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Muckle Flugga
NARRATED BY JACK LOWDEN
'A quirky and original debut that sizzles with scintillating prose.' BERNARDINE EVARISTO
'Michael Pedersen is a rare writer of real passion and power and this debut is phenomenal.' MATT HAIG
Life on a remote island is turned upside down by a stranger's arrival, testing bonds of family and tradition and leaving a young dreamer's future hanging in the balance.
It's no ordinary existence on the rugged isle of Muckle Flugga. The elements run riot and the very rocks that shape the place begin to shift under their influence. The only human inhabitants are the lighthouse keeper, known as The Father, and his otherworldly son, Ouse. Them, and the occasional lodger to keep the wolf from the door.
When one of those lodgers - Firth, a chaotic writer - arrives from Edinburgh, the limits of the world the keeper and his son cling to begin to crumble. A tug of war ensues between Firth and the lighthouse keeper for Ouse's affections - and his future. As old and new ways collide, and life-changing decisions loom, what will the tides leave standing in their wake?
'A quirky and original debut that sizzles with scintillating prose.' BERNARDINE EVARISTO
'Michael Pedersen is a rare writer of real passion and power and this debut is phenomenal.' MATT HAIG
Life on a remote island is turned upside down by a stranger's arrival, testing bonds of family and tradition and leaving a young dreamer's future hanging in the balance.
It's no ordinary existence on the rugged isle of Muckle Flugga. The elements run riot and the very rocks that shape the place begin to shift under their influence. The only human inhabitants are the lighthouse keeper, known as The Father, and his otherworldly son, Ouse. Them, and the occasional lodger to keep the wolf from the door.
When one of those lodgers - Firth, a chaotic writer - arrives from Edinburgh, the limits of the world the keeper and his son cling to begin to crumble. A tug of war ensues between Firth and the lighthouse keeper for Ouse's affections - and his future. As old and new ways collide, and life-changing decisions loom, what will the tides leave standing in their wake?
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First published May 20, 2025
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 96 reviews
December 27, 2025
" Ouse, your rudder is showing, You can't hide that twitching compass needle from me; my explorers heart thumps to the same rhythm. I think you are getting ready to leave."
Muckle Flugga is a gem of a read!! Be prepared to fall in love with an island.
From start to finish, you are transported to the remote lighthouse island and then become bewitched by the lives of Ouse and The Father and the impact that Firth (a visitor how has travelled to this furthest outpost with dark thoughts about life within ) has on the equilibrium.
Michael Pederen's poetic talents are what lift this beautiful story into something much more magical, haunting and life-affirming. The prose is hypnotising and certainly could broaden your lexical diet.
This is a book about finding your true self - following your own path . Others can halter progress of even support and nurture but ultimately it's the person within that decides.
Nineteen year old Ouse has lived on the island all his life and finished school earlier to assist his dad on Muckle Flugga ( The Mother has died) He has an other worldly awareness and spirituality - a love of the natural world and the seasonal changes ; an ethereal feeling towards emotions- so much so that he talks to continually the RLS ( Rober Louis Stevenson) as a guide and confident.
Ouse has a talent for design /art and creates beautiful knitwear. Firth sees this talent and becomes enchanted by Ouse and the desire to help him" escape" and go to Edinburgh whilst The Father can't let go of his son- the need for the maintaining the lighthouse and passing on this legacy. despite Keepers & Lighthouse Association of Majestic Scotland (KLAMS) wanting mechanise the lighthouse.
The opposing /conflicting sides of Firth and The Father are palpable each wanting what they believe is best for themselves and Ouse ( or is this concern altruistic?). But ultimately it is Ouse that you feel for- what will he decide- detached from the 'wider' world and insanity of city life..
This is a book to be savoured and recommended to others; a book to take you away to a remote location and feel the wildness and wonder; a book about love and most of all a book that makes you reflect about choices and paths taken and still possibly to take.
Highly recommended and magical read. Ouse is a brilliant creation.
A top read for 2025!!!!
Vocabulary that bewildered and bewitched : tatterdemalion; oneiric; aberrant; coevally; stramash; bones; sigil; tombolo; haecceity; fealty; addlepated; birl; coruscate
Quotes:
:" There is no duty we so much underrate as the duty of being happy"
" Year s from now we are nothing more than the echoes of the kindness we cast"
" Time's not one for treading water"
Muckle Flugga is a gem of a read!! Be prepared to fall in love with an island.
From start to finish, you are transported to the remote lighthouse island and then become bewitched by the lives of Ouse and The Father and the impact that Firth (a visitor how has travelled to this furthest outpost with dark thoughts about life within ) has on the equilibrium.
Michael Pederen's poetic talents are what lift this beautiful story into something much more magical, haunting and life-affirming. The prose is hypnotising and certainly could broaden your lexical diet.
This is a book about finding your true self - following your own path . Others can halter progress of even support and nurture but ultimately it's the person within that decides.
Nineteen year old Ouse has lived on the island all his life and finished school earlier to assist his dad on Muckle Flugga ( The Mother has died) He has an other worldly awareness and spirituality - a love of the natural world and the seasonal changes ; an ethereal feeling towards emotions- so much so that he talks to continually the RLS ( Rober Louis Stevenson) as a guide and confident.
Ouse has a talent for design /art and creates beautiful knitwear. Firth sees this talent and becomes enchanted by Ouse and the desire to help him" escape" and go to Edinburgh whilst The Father can't let go of his son- the need for the maintaining the lighthouse and passing on this legacy. despite Keepers & Lighthouse Association of Majestic Scotland (KLAMS) wanting mechanise the lighthouse.
The opposing /conflicting sides of Firth and The Father are palpable each wanting what they believe is best for themselves and Ouse ( or is this concern altruistic?). But ultimately it is Ouse that you feel for- what will he decide- detached from the 'wider' world and insanity of city life..
This is a book to be savoured and recommended to others; a book to take you away to a remote location and feel the wildness and wonder; a book about love and most of all a book that makes you reflect about choices and paths taken and still possibly to take.
Highly recommended and magical read. Ouse is a brilliant creation.
A top read for 2025!!!!
Vocabulary that bewildered and bewitched : tatterdemalion; oneiric; aberrant; coevally; stramash; bones; sigil; tombolo; haecceity; fealty; addlepated; birl; coruscate
Quotes:
:" There is no duty we so much underrate as the duty of being happy"
" Year s from now we are nothing more than the echoes of the kindness we cast"
" Time's not one for treading water"
August 25, 2025
Pedersen is undoubtedly a wordsmith, but I'd have loved for the ghostly elements of this book to amount to something greater and for the intriguing opening elements to play a more significant role by the end. The prose is lovely! (examples below 👇)
PROLOGUE + CHP 01
Here's the setup: On a tiny remote island of precipitous cliffs and crashing waves is a lighthouse tended by The Father and his young son, Ouse. Few people come to the island, so Ouse keeps company with the ghost of Robert Louis Stevenson (not sure yet if this is literal or figurative, as in, Ouse regularly reads Stevenson's books).
The occasional visitor to the lighthouse is permitted, typically an ornithologist who wishes to study migrating birds, and since money is once again tight, the lighthouse will soon have a new visitor: Firth, a man whose grandfather told him stories about Muckle Flugga and who feels kinship with its "salt-ravaged lands".
I love a good tale of sea spray and walruses and rumors of deep water beasts, so already this book speaks to me. Let's hope it's enchanting qualities remain consistent throughout.
CHP 02
Not your usual winged herald...
CHP 03
Confirmed: A ghost! 👻
CHP 05
I can't even begin to articulate how enchanted I am with Pedersen's prose. I mean, just LOOK at this glorious description of The Father:
Oh my goodness, I flew through this book amid my crazy schedule and forgot to update my reading thoughts. Oops! 😅
The short of it is that the pacing and stakes never built in the way that I hoped they would, and the conclusion was fine, but I absolutely loved Pedersen's lyrical prose, especially his use of alliteration. A few examples:
PROLOGUE + CHP 01
On account of being charged by starlight, the beam of Muckle Flugga Lighthouse is rumoured to be infinite in its luminosity.
Here's the setup: On a tiny remote island of precipitous cliffs and crashing waves is a lighthouse tended by The Father and his young son, Ouse. Few people come to the island, so Ouse keeps company with the ghost of Robert Louis Stevenson (not sure yet if this is literal or figurative, as in, Ouse regularly reads Stevenson's books).
The occasional visitor to the lighthouse is permitted, typically an ornithologist who wishes to study migrating birds, and since money is once again tight, the lighthouse will soon have a new visitor: Firth, a man whose grandfather told him stories about Muckle Flugga and who feels kinship with its "salt-ravaged lands".
I love a good tale of sea spray and walruses and rumors of deep water beasts, so already this book speaks to me. Let's hope it's enchanting qualities remain consistent throughout.
CHP 02
Not your usual winged herald...
It's not a shooting star, a good Samaritan or a sexual uprising that calls out to him, but a gobshite of a gannet. A blasted seabird, in full flight, cruising past, all chutzpah and vibrato, as if it was their big finish and not his. A presence so close Firth hears a swoosh in the air. So close he could have touched its svelte feathered carriage.
CHP 03
Confirmed: A ghost! 👻
To his right, a slender figure in a velveteen jacket, riding boots and a lilac, felt fedora: his companion, the ethereal, and invisible to all but Ouse, Robert Louise Stevenson; RLS to friends.
CHP 05
I can't even begin to articulate how enchanted I am with Pedersen's prose. I mean, just LOOK at this glorious description of The Father:
She then goes on to describe an irascible keeper, ruined by grief, with a viper in his throat and a broken soldier's thirst for whisky. She talks of a darkness in him death delivered, yet lauds the way he channels it - his hauntedness - into manning the light[house]. How unyielding he remains in his battles with the abyss.
Oh my goodness, I flew through this book amid my crazy schedule and forgot to update my reading thoughts. Oops! 😅
The short of it is that the pacing and stakes never built in the way that I hoped they would, and the conclusion was fine, but I absolutely loved Pedersen's lyrical prose, especially his use of alliteration. A few examples:
As the mizzle makes a mockery of his misery, so too does the sun offer succour to those parts of him starved of joy.
Although the soup is delicious, a flume of flavour, Firth doesn't dare praise it.
Daily dawns deliver their squashed-strawberry morning sun and purple gloamings end each day.
Ouse, finding humour in the crapulent canines, restrains his rising laughter...
How Edina is built on the backs of brave mongrels so that light-footed fawns might glide through life brightly suited...
July 13, 2025
“…there is no duty we so much underrate as the duty of being happy. To be what we are, and to become what we are capable of becoming, is the only end of life.” Robert Louis Stevenson 1881
It's become something of a cliché to say a novel is like nothing else you've ever read - but in this case, it is undeniably true. And usually when a writer indulges in lushly poetic and overly show offish prose, I cringe - but Pedersen's (who is Edinburgh's current Makar, or Poet Laureate) florid writing suits the story being told.
Basically, that story takes place on the titular Shetland island, the northernmost point of the UK, and revolves around three main characters: The Father, lighthouse keeper on the island; his odd and mercurial artistic (and possibly autistic) 19-year-old son, Ouse; and 25-year-old wastrel and failed writer Firth, who comes to the isolated island from Edinburgh with the express intention to commit suicide.
Firth immediately becomes enamored with Ouse, who has never left the islands and spends his time crafting exquisite knitwear and needlepoint in the company of his only companion, the ghost of Scottish writer, Robert Louis Stevenson. If that sounds unbearably twee - well, Pedersen somehow makes it all work beautifully.
The book eventually becomes a battle between The Father's demand that Ouse remain on the island and become his successor in manning the lighthouse, and Firth's equal desire to ferret Ouse to Edinburgh where he can satisfy his artistic leanings - and possibly become Firth's companion. I don't want to give away too much, but if further explication is desired, read The Guardian review linked below.
My one (albeit niggling) complaint is that on p. 84, when Firth has his first supper on the island, it categorically states: "In front of Firth sits a whole boule ... but nothing else - no butter, no cutlery no fishy soup anywhere on the table." Two paragraphs later - TWO - when Firth bites into the boule, he discovers that the soup is INSIDE the boule and it goes all over and "Panicked, he grabs the butter bowl and lets the remainder of the creamy soup stream into it, the liquid quickly encircling the golden knob then taking it captive." Where the f*** was the editor?
There is a lot of ambiguity and different ways one can interpret what happens, but the book is so tender-hearted and full of the possibility of human compassion and goodness, that it is exactly the tonic most readers NEED at this distressing time.
Currently 55% of GR readers have likewise given it a 5-star rating, and 90% have given it a 4 or 5 - and I am hoping this makes the Booker longlist, so it will garner the attention it so richly deserves. Special kudos to Jon Gary, book designer of the gorgeous cover - the photo here doesn't do it nearly enough justice.
PS - oddly enuf, I DNF'd the author's last (nonfiction) work, Boy Friends at 65%, because it was just too maudlin and depressing for me at the time - this had exactly the opposite effect - and I MIGHT go back and see if I react differently to that book on a second try.
https://www.theguardian.com/books/202...
It's become something of a cliché to say a novel is like nothing else you've ever read - but in this case, it is undeniably true. And usually when a writer indulges in lushly poetic and overly show offish prose, I cringe - but Pedersen's (who is Edinburgh's current Makar, or Poet Laureate) florid writing suits the story being told.
Basically, that story takes place on the titular Shetland island, the northernmost point of the UK, and revolves around three main characters: The Father, lighthouse keeper on the island; his odd and mercurial artistic (and possibly autistic) 19-year-old son, Ouse; and 25-year-old wastrel and failed writer Firth, who comes to the isolated island from Edinburgh with the express intention to commit suicide.
Firth immediately becomes enamored with Ouse, who has never left the islands and spends his time crafting exquisite knitwear and needlepoint in the company of his only companion, the ghost of Scottish writer, Robert Louis Stevenson. If that sounds unbearably twee - well, Pedersen somehow makes it all work beautifully.
The book eventually becomes a battle between The Father's demand that Ouse remain on the island and become his successor in manning the lighthouse, and Firth's equal desire to ferret Ouse to Edinburgh where he can satisfy his artistic leanings - and possibly become Firth's companion. I don't want to give away too much, but if further explication is desired, read The Guardian review linked below.
My one (albeit niggling) complaint is that on p. 84, when Firth has his first supper on the island, it categorically states: "In front of Firth sits a whole boule ... but nothing else - no butter, no cutlery no fishy soup anywhere on the table." Two paragraphs later - TWO - when Firth bites into the boule, he discovers that the soup is INSIDE the boule and it goes all over and "Panicked, he grabs the butter bowl and lets the remainder of the creamy soup stream into it, the liquid quickly encircling the golden knob then taking it captive." Where the f*** was the editor?
There is a lot of ambiguity and different ways one can interpret what happens, but the book is so tender-hearted and full of the possibility of human compassion and goodness, that it is exactly the tonic most readers NEED at this distressing time.
Currently 55% of GR readers have likewise given it a 5-star rating, and 90% have given it a 4 or 5 - and I am hoping this makes the Booker longlist, so it will garner the attention it so richly deserves. Special kudos to Jon Gary, book designer of the gorgeous cover - the photo here doesn't do it nearly enough justice.
PS - oddly enuf, I DNF'd the author's last (nonfiction) work, Boy Friends at 65%, because it was just too maudlin and depressing for me at the time - this had exactly the opposite effect - and I MIGHT go back and see if I react differently to that book on a second try.
https://www.theguardian.com/books/202...
September 21, 2025
Three main characters, a remote island, a dark history, and a world of expectations and possibilities converge in this novel, creating a story written with prose you will either love or hate. I was challenged by it at times, but overall found it the perfect way to percolate these individuals and their idiosyncrasies, to add to and celebrate the wonders of this natural world and human foibles, to provide an ethereal "set" in one's mind for the drama being lived.
As the blub indicates, a stranger comes to the island which creates seismic changes for the father and son living there, tending the lighthouse. This novel is very character based, and the "plot" is subtly woven within the everyday tasks and events. As such, there are themes of loss, pain, hope, love, expectation, the clash of old and new, possibility, dreams, self-determination, and loyalty...to name a few.
The descriptions give a luscious sense of time and place, as well as deep dives into the characters' motivations and states. After finishing, I contemplated how mundane this story could have been in other hands, but in Pedersen's the story-telling mesmerized me. There was something "old world" and "other worldly" about it that's hard to put into words.
Keep a dictionary nearby! 4.75 rounded up
As the blub indicates, a stranger comes to the island which creates seismic changes for the father and son living there, tending the lighthouse. This novel is very character based, and the "plot" is subtly woven within the everyday tasks and events. As such, there are themes of loss, pain, hope, love, expectation, the clash of old and new, possibility, dreams, self-determination, and loyalty...to name a few.
The descriptions give a luscious sense of time and place, as well as deep dives into the characters' motivations and states. After finishing, I contemplated how mundane this story could have been in other hands, but in Pedersen's the story-telling mesmerized me. There was something "old world" and "other worldly" about it that's hard to put into words.
Keep a dictionary nearby! 4.75 rounded up
May 28, 2025
No spoilers. I adored this book. The poetic prose is glorious. The characters are beautifully flawed but true. I will definitely re-read for pleasure at some point in the future.
May 25, 2025
What. A. Book.
I absolutely loved this story, I revelled in its imagery and admired the author’s prose and choice of vocabulary throughout. It was such a pleasure to read! It’s a quirky, at times eccentric, character-driven novel which is set on Muckle Flugga, a small, rocky island, north of Unst in the Shetland Islands, Scotland.
In it, we meet The Father, a somewhat cantankerous man but totally loyal to his job as lighthouse keeper. It’s what he lives for after the death of his wife. The Father lives on Muckle Flugga with his son, Ouse, who he hopes will take his place as lighthouse keeper one day. Ouse is a very talented artist, a peculiar young man, a lover of nature and a dreamer.
And finally, there is Firth who has decided to fulfil a promise to his grandfather, and visit Muckle Flugga, before he leaves this world of his own accord. Firth feels inferior, he doesn’t like himself or the way he has portrayed himself to friends and colleagues.
I love how we see Muckle Flugga through the eyes of both Firth and Ouse - someone visiting for the first time and one who’s spent his whole life there. It’s so easy to become immersed in the pure depth of description and imagine you are really there yourself. I also had a little spark of pure joy when coming across my favourite word which I’ve only ever seen in two other books - ‘tatterdemalion’. It’s used to describe Firth and his luggage on his journey over to Muckle Flugga.
It’s not often that a stranger sets foot on this remote island and what follows is the narrative about the awkwardness this initially causes before a semblance of friendship begins to develop. The sheer beauty of this author’s voice took my breath away but I also enjoyed the hints at humour and way the characters’ consciences wrangled as they fought over choices they had to make.
This book is incredible and, in the author’s word, splendiferous - it’s a story I’ll remember for a very long time. It is, however, one of those books that leaves you with questions but they are questions I shall enjoy pondering over, in the days to come…
(I received a proof copy of this book from Faber Books in exchange for an honest review. All opinions are my own.)
I absolutely loved this story, I revelled in its imagery and admired the author’s prose and choice of vocabulary throughout. It was such a pleasure to read! It’s a quirky, at times eccentric, character-driven novel which is set on Muckle Flugga, a small, rocky island, north of Unst in the Shetland Islands, Scotland.
In it, we meet The Father, a somewhat cantankerous man but totally loyal to his job as lighthouse keeper. It’s what he lives for after the death of his wife. The Father lives on Muckle Flugga with his son, Ouse, who he hopes will take his place as lighthouse keeper one day. Ouse is a very talented artist, a peculiar young man, a lover of nature and a dreamer.
And finally, there is Firth who has decided to fulfil a promise to his grandfather, and visit Muckle Flugga, before he leaves this world of his own accord. Firth feels inferior, he doesn’t like himself or the way he has portrayed himself to friends and colleagues.
I love how we see Muckle Flugga through the eyes of both Firth and Ouse - someone visiting for the first time and one who’s spent his whole life there. It’s so easy to become immersed in the pure depth of description and imagine you are really there yourself. I also had a little spark of pure joy when coming across my favourite word which I’ve only ever seen in two other books - ‘tatterdemalion’. It’s used to describe Firth and his luggage on his journey over to Muckle Flugga.
It’s not often that a stranger sets foot on this remote island and what follows is the narrative about the awkwardness this initially causes before a semblance of friendship begins to develop. The sheer beauty of this author’s voice took my breath away but I also enjoyed the hints at humour and way the characters’ consciences wrangled as they fought over choices they had to make.
This book is incredible and, in the author’s word, splendiferous - it’s a story I’ll remember for a very long time. It is, however, one of those books that leaves you with questions but they are questions I shall enjoy pondering over, in the days to come…
(I received a proof copy of this book from Faber Books in exchange for an honest review. All opinions are my own.)
September 5, 2025
I really struggled to get through this one. The overly florid and overwrought prose really distanced me from characters I didn't find all that interesting.
One for the charity shop.
One for the charity shop.
July 20, 2025
My favourite book of the year so far. Every so often these little gems come along and you realise it doesn’t matter what genres you enjoy, how gripping the plot is or how developed the characters are - what matters most is how the book makes you feel. The writing is just magical and I almost finished in one sitting. There was simply a constant tone which felt so warm and familiar, highly recommend.
December 10, 2025
4,25 ⭐
"It's not the actual dying Firth wills in-not pain, penance or comeuppance, not the process of extinguishing life, certainly not the damage it'll cause those caught in the crossfire. It's the stopping, everything stopping, and the silence that follows. No battles to fight, anxieties to ebb, or pretences to maintain: it all just stops."
"There's nothing more lethal than hope to someone lost and losing."
"Because sometimes it's okay to look the other way when the ugly parts of someone you love are showing."
"It's not the actual dying Firth wills in-not pain, penance or comeuppance, not the process of extinguishing life, certainly not the damage it'll cause those caught in the crossfire. It's the stopping, everything stopping, and the silence that follows. No battles to fight, anxieties to ebb, or pretences to maintain: it all just stops."
"There's nothing more lethal than hope to someone lost and losing."
"Because sometimes it's okay to look the other way when the ugly parts of someone you love are showing."
August 9, 2025
A delight of a book, wonderfully narrated by my fave Jack Lowden. The prose is gorgeous with beautiful observations; you feel like you are on the isle of Muckle Flugga. I did find the whimsy and magical elements to be misplaced at times, and the ending felt abrupt, hence 4 stars. Would nevertheless recommend and can see this being a Booker Prize nominee or similar
August 4, 2025
Adored! It was impossible not to read this in a Scottish accent and was written so beautifully it read more like a poem than a novel. The tempo of the writing literally felt like you were being swept away. My mum kindly got me this after we saw Michael Pederson in Edinburgh and I loved every page.
June 3, 2025
It has taken me a while to sit down and write this review as I wanted to give it the attention it deserves (and I've also been procrastinating).
Muckle Flugga is like no other novel I've ever read - in large part due to Michael Pedersen's scintillating prose. Yet it is also a very unique depiction of a person's struggle with suicide. At the very start of Muckle Flugga, the reader sees Firth, one of the protagonists, contemplate taking his own life. The novel follows his journey from there to Muckle Flugga, which Firth believes will be his final resting place. Instead he meets Ouse, who has lived on the island his whole life, and who Firth latches onto as his redemption - whether Ouse likes it or not.
For such a bleak start, Muckle Flugga is filled with joy and wonder and whimsy. The characters are complex and interesting (although I would say that the reader is led to romanticise Ouse just as much as Firth does) and Muckle Flugga's fearsome beauty is portrayed movingly.
This book is for anyone looking for something adventurous and fun, but grounded in questions of what it means to be happy, to love and to forgive, and what we are willing to do in pursuit of these things.
Muckle Flugga is like no other novel I've ever read - in large part due to Michael Pedersen's scintillating prose. Yet it is also a very unique depiction of a person's struggle with suicide. At the very start of Muckle Flugga, the reader sees Firth, one of the protagonists, contemplate taking his own life. The novel follows his journey from there to Muckle Flugga, which Firth believes will be his final resting place. Instead he meets Ouse, who has lived on the island his whole life, and who Firth latches onto as his redemption - whether Ouse likes it or not.
For such a bleak start, Muckle Flugga is filled with joy and wonder and whimsy. The characters are complex and interesting (although I would say that the reader is led to romanticise Ouse just as much as Firth does) and Muckle Flugga's fearsome beauty is portrayed movingly.
This book is for anyone looking for something adventurous and fun, but grounded in questions of what it means to be happy, to love and to forgive, and what we are willing to do in pursuit of these things.
August 7, 2025
Magnificently fantastic! Majestically fabulous! Miraculously fandabby dozy!
Muckle Flugga is a masterclass in language. Unsurprisingly poetic, words old and new meld with the richness of Scots to form the most stunning sentences and expression of ideas.
This story of friendship and isolation and love and community is an absolute joy of a read. Brilliant storytelling with characters that will live rent free in my head for years to come. It’s funny, insightful and fanciful. A book that every minute I wasnt reading or listening was a minute wasted
From the beautiful cover to the map inside to every single last word, Muckle Flugga is bookish perfection
A book so good that the minute I finished reading, I downloaded the audiobook not wanting to leave the world of Muckle Flugga and its residents. The audiobook, read by the brilliant Jack Lowden just adds an extra layer of fabulousness to it all.
The biggest thank you to Michael for this beautiful tale and incredible words. I was spellbound
Muckle Flugga is a masterclass in language. Unsurprisingly poetic, words old and new meld with the richness of Scots to form the most stunning sentences and expression of ideas.
This story of friendship and isolation and love and community is an absolute joy of a read. Brilliant storytelling with characters that will live rent free in my head for years to come. It’s funny, insightful and fanciful. A book that every minute I wasnt reading or listening was a minute wasted
From the beautiful cover to the map inside to every single last word, Muckle Flugga is bookish perfection
A book so good that the minute I finished reading, I downloaded the audiobook not wanting to leave the world of Muckle Flugga and its residents. The audiobook, read by the brilliant Jack Lowden just adds an extra layer of fabulousness to it all.
The biggest thank you to Michael for this beautiful tale and incredible words. I was spellbound
November 19, 2025
It always shows when a novelist is first a poet;the prose sings and is so,so beautiful. A lovely,but not gentle, story.Great characters. Similarities with Seascrapper, but much, much better;a true gem. Hope Pedersen keeps on writing novels.
December 11, 2025
I didn't want this book to end. I loved every beautifully written sentence.
June 9, 2025
Pedersen is the currently the Makar of Edinburgh, the city's literary ambassador, with a specific role to write poetry about the city. This is his debut novel, a boldly experimental piece set on a remote island and involving just three characters.
Muckle Flugga is a few kilometres north west of Unst in Shetland. I stood at Hermaness Nature Reserve, the nearby cliffs, with the wind howling and the rain hammering and the skuas diving, a couple of summers ago, and admired its lighthouse and rugged coastline. As a setting for a novel it is as spectacular as it can get. Its shore station, where the off-duty keepers used to stay, served as an excellent base for my campervan for a couple of nights. The light was automated in 1995, which means this is an historical novel, though no dates are given, and it is, of course, fictional.
Here, the Father is the lighthouse keeper, grief stricken since the recent death of The Mother, his work and the isolation keeps him going, but barely. His 19 year old son Ouse is something of a comfort as he is determined that he will be his successor. Despite being taken out of school early, Ouse takes pleasure in writing, sketching, even knitting, and from the wild nature of his island home.
Edinburghian Firth arrives by the supply boat, as a guest to stay in the bothy, to bird-watch. But Firth, 25 years old and an artist, has arrived in a state of torment and depression, with one last thing to do before he kills himself. The large part of the novel is taken up with their burgeoning relationships, particulalry between Ouse and Firth, and also with the natural and a hint of the supernatural, as mortality and morality are explored.
Pedersen's writing is upbeat, and at its best when describing the landscape of the island, its flora and fauna. Though the theme is one of grief, the novel is also a celebration of life. Its weakness is that it is too long. Some more severe editing would cut it by perhaps as much as a third, certainly a quarter, and it has the potential to be really good. Certainly, for a debut novel, it is impressive.
Muckle Flugga is a few kilometres north west of Unst in Shetland. I stood at Hermaness Nature Reserve, the nearby cliffs, with the wind howling and the rain hammering and the skuas diving, a couple of summers ago, and admired its lighthouse and rugged coastline. As a setting for a novel it is as spectacular as it can get. Its shore station, where the off-duty keepers used to stay, served as an excellent base for my campervan for a couple of nights. The light was automated in 1995, which means this is an historical novel, though no dates are given, and it is, of course, fictional.
Here, the Father is the lighthouse keeper, grief stricken since the recent death of The Mother, his work and the isolation keeps him going, but barely. His 19 year old son Ouse is something of a comfort as he is determined that he will be his successor. Despite being taken out of school early, Ouse takes pleasure in writing, sketching, even knitting, and from the wild nature of his island home.
Edinburghian Firth arrives by the supply boat, as a guest to stay in the bothy, to bird-watch. But Firth, 25 years old and an artist, has arrived in a state of torment and depression, with one last thing to do before he kills himself. The large part of the novel is taken up with their burgeoning relationships, particulalry between Ouse and Firth, and also with the natural and a hint of the supernatural, as mortality and morality are explored.
Pedersen's writing is upbeat, and at its best when describing the landscape of the island, its flora and fauna. Though the theme is one of grief, the novel is also a celebration of life. Its weakness is that it is too long. Some more severe editing would cut it by perhaps as much as a third, certainly a quarter, and it has the potential to be really good. Certainly, for a debut novel, it is impressive.
May 16, 2025
Muckle Flugga is the most artistic piece of literature I have read in a long time. The prose and vocabulary is so poetic, lyrical and descriptive that I was swept away on the waves and immersed in the wilderness of this remote, rocky island.
Muckle Flugga is a story of grief, guilt, duty and conscience; but it also offers a wealth of beauty, humour, longing and wonder.
My favourite quote from the book declares: “…there is no duty we so much underrate as the duty of being happy. To be what we are, and to become what we are capable of becoming, is the only end of life.”
I am always drawn to stories that feature a lighthouse - and the cover of this book grabbed my attention immediately - the artwork is a superb representation of Muckle Flugga. Lighthouses have played such a significant role in history and they are seen as a beacon of hope, guidance and safety - and all of these things resonate from the pages of Muckle Flugga. Each character - The Father, Ouse and Firth - are all in need of the comfort and reassurance found in having a sense of hope, guidance and safety. My hope, after finishing this book, is that there will be a sequel - I want to know more of Ouse’s experiences beyond this novel!
All I can say is, go and read Muckle Flugga - and then you’ll understand what I’m talking about!
Thank you to the publisher, Faber and Faber Ltd, for an advance digital copy of this book via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.
Muckle Flugga is a story of grief, guilt, duty and conscience; but it also offers a wealth of beauty, humour, longing and wonder.
My favourite quote from the book declares: “…there is no duty we so much underrate as the duty of being happy. To be what we are, and to become what we are capable of becoming, is the only end of life.”
I am always drawn to stories that feature a lighthouse - and the cover of this book grabbed my attention immediately - the artwork is a superb representation of Muckle Flugga. Lighthouses have played such a significant role in history and they are seen as a beacon of hope, guidance and safety - and all of these things resonate from the pages of Muckle Flugga. Each character - The Father, Ouse and Firth - are all in need of the comfort and reassurance found in having a sense of hope, guidance and safety. My hope, after finishing this book, is that there will be a sequel - I want to know more of Ouse’s experiences beyond this novel!
All I can say is, go and read Muckle Flugga - and then you’ll understand what I’m talking about!
Thank you to the publisher, Faber and Faber Ltd, for an advance digital copy of this book via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.
August 15, 2025
I think this might be the most beautifully written novel I've ever read. It was such a treat.
July 20, 2025
Really, really loved reading this - was a proper fun-filled, joyous read. I really enjoyed the magical realism aspect but liked that it didn’t feel like a full blown fantasy reader - it’s very much a book still grounded in Scotland, its people, landscapes, and culture.
Muckle Flugga, the second most northerly island of Scotland (southern only to Out Stack), is home to a dramatic lighthouse, its god-like keeper The Father, and his whimsical son Ouse. They take on Firth as a lodger, and it alters the course of their lives.
The absence of The Mother is a really prominent aspect of the novel (along with Ouse’s bestie, the ghost of Robert Louis Stevenson), which adds dimension to the rage of The Father and complex interpersonal relationships on the remote island. RLS is a funny yet profound character who makes otherwise difficult themes of grief into lessons and poetry.
Pedersen’s writing style is impressively poetic and many passages are absolutely gorgeous, if a touch verbose at times. His vocabulary probably out shines anyone I know, and hearing him speak at a book event really showed that he is exactly like that in real life too. it was a pleasure to read an author who so clearly LOVES language for the sake of the words, who loves the shape and sounds of each letter and each obscure word like ‘clamjamfry’ (a personal fave). The writing adds to, if not entirely creates, the magical quality of the novel, and made it difficult to put down.
There’s real echoes of Pedersen’s previous non-fiction, Boy Friends, which i absolutely adored and rated 5 stars at the start of the year. The intimate, glowing friendship between Firth and Ouse; the suicidal ideation of Firth; the complexities of communication from The Father to his son. Although Pedersen is known as a poet, I’m actually yet to read more than a couple of his poems, but I can attest that his prose is absolutely beautiful and have already recommended Boy Friends and Muckle Flugga widely.
If you love nature, you’ll love this too. It is a reminder to notice the tiny miracles of every day life - a raindrop on a gorse bush, sneaky puffins and shrieking gannets, the haar coming in ‘like wet ghosts’. It is a love story to Scottish folklore and literature past, as well as the landscape which informs and shapes these stories.
I first rated this a 4.5 but having written this review and reflected more on the book, i’ve bumped it up to a 5 star read. passages have really stuck with me and i keep thinking about the characters and the island. i think a big sign of a 5 star read for me is whether I can see myself re-reading, and i already look forward to reading it again.
Muckle Flugga, the second most northerly island of Scotland (southern only to Out Stack), is home to a dramatic lighthouse, its god-like keeper The Father, and his whimsical son Ouse. They take on Firth as a lodger, and it alters the course of their lives.
The absence of The Mother is a really prominent aspect of the novel (along with Ouse’s bestie, the ghost of Robert Louis Stevenson), which adds dimension to the rage of The Father and complex interpersonal relationships on the remote island. RLS is a funny yet profound character who makes otherwise difficult themes of grief into lessons and poetry.
Pedersen’s writing style is impressively poetic and many passages are absolutely gorgeous, if a touch verbose at times. His vocabulary probably out shines anyone I know, and hearing him speak at a book event really showed that he is exactly like that in real life too. it was a pleasure to read an author who so clearly LOVES language for the sake of the words, who loves the shape and sounds of each letter and each obscure word like ‘clamjamfry’ (a personal fave). The writing adds to, if not entirely creates, the magical quality of the novel, and made it difficult to put down.
There’s real echoes of Pedersen’s previous non-fiction, Boy Friends, which i absolutely adored and rated 5 stars at the start of the year. The intimate, glowing friendship between Firth and Ouse; the suicidal ideation of Firth; the complexities of communication from The Father to his son. Although Pedersen is known as a poet, I’m actually yet to read more than a couple of his poems, but I can attest that his prose is absolutely beautiful and have already recommended Boy Friends and Muckle Flugga widely.
If you love nature, you’ll love this too. It is a reminder to notice the tiny miracles of every day life - a raindrop on a gorse bush, sneaky puffins and shrieking gannets, the haar coming in ‘like wet ghosts’. It is a love story to Scottish folklore and literature past, as well as the landscape which informs and shapes these stories.
I first rated this a 4.5 but having written this review and reflected more on the book, i’ve bumped it up to a 5 star read. passages have really stuck with me and i keep thinking about the characters and the island. i think a big sign of a 5 star read for me is whether I can see myself re-reading, and i already look forward to reading it again.
September 11, 2025
I really enjoyed this book! It is the tale of a self-destructive, self- loathing and unsuccessful writer from Edinburgh, Firth, who, as a last defiant (?) act, plans to spend some time on the isolated island of Muckle Flugga before bidding farewell to the world. There, he encounters lighthouse keeper, 'The Father' and his browbeaten, mysterious and artistically talented son, Ouse. The relationships that develop between all three, ranging from warily fascinated to aggressively antagonistic, are superbly related by the author, as is the character of the ever loyal Figgie.
The writing is never less than outstanding, phrasing, alliteration and assonance demonstrating all the obvious traits of the author's background as a published poet.
The denouement of the novel, whilst being surprisingly straightforward, is a heartwarming one.
A really interesting novel and well recommended.
The writing is never less than outstanding, phrasing, alliteration and assonance demonstrating all the obvious traits of the author's background as a published poet.
The denouement of the novel, whilst being surprisingly straightforward, is a heartwarming one.
A really interesting novel and well recommended.
October 19, 2025
dnf @ 14%
nothing personal to this one i just did not vibe with the writing at this point in time. might come back to it one day, might not.
nothing personal to this one i just did not vibe with the writing at this point in time. might come back to it one day, might not.
August 3, 2025
What a delicious feast from the current Edinburgh Makar. I savored it one chapter at a time, to fully appreciate the fluid and evocative prose. Simply wonderful.
August 12, 2025
This was bleak, dark, sad, joyous and beautiful. I really enjoyed it.
December 26, 2025
5 stars, near perfect and I'll call it my book of the year
December 13, 2025
wow Pendersen is an incredible writer. This may be my favorite book in terms of writing style
Great story, super complex and thought-provoking themes around purpose, identity, and place. All enhanced by the poetic style.
Usually I hate more ambiguous endings around what will happen next, but it worked well
Great story, super complex and thought-provoking themes around purpose, identity, and place. All enhanced by the poetic style.
Usually I hate more ambiguous endings around what will happen next, but it worked well
July 7, 2025
I would rate this 6 stars if I could.
June 27, 2025
Muckle Flugga is an island set in the north of the North Sea, almost inhabitable, with a proud lighthouse guiding ships around its rocky shore. The Father is the keeper of the lighthouse, a feat that’s not easy. He is as hardened as the environment that surrounds him. The Father lives on Muckle Flugga with his son, kind-hearted and soft Ouse, lover of the arts and a maestro of his crafts.
Life on Muckle Flugga is uncompromising, with a light keeper’s wage barely enough to scrape by, a lodger must infiltrate the harsh peace. Firth is the latest man for the job, usually reserved for avid ornithologists.
Firth is the polar opposite of the lifestyle that accompanies Muckle Flugga and its hardships. Resolved to end his half-life, he elects to embark on one last trip to the most northernly habitable island to paint birds and make peace with his decision.
This read was such a labour of love. It took me a month to complete. I wanted to savour every ounce of Ouse and Firth and Muckle Flugga as I could before the end. Michael Pedersen’s writing was pure poetry is full colour. Muckle Flugga was a landscape so real I could step in and explore just with his words.
Life on Muckle Flugga is uncompromising, with a light keeper’s wage barely enough to scrape by, a lodger must infiltrate the harsh peace. Firth is the latest man for the job, usually reserved for avid ornithologists.
Firth is the polar opposite of the lifestyle that accompanies Muckle Flugga and its hardships. Resolved to end his half-life, he elects to embark on one last trip to the most northernly habitable island to paint birds and make peace with his decision.
This read was such a labour of love. It took me a month to complete. I wanted to savour every ounce of Ouse and Firth and Muckle Flugga as I could before the end. Michael Pedersen’s writing was pure poetry is full colour. Muckle Flugga was a landscape so real I could step in and explore just with his words.
November 15, 2025
I am being drawn to remote and rocky Scottish islands this year. In March, I read Geraldine McCaughrean’s extraordinary YA historical thriller, ‘Where the World Ends’ (& a ‘stack’ of kids’ picture books set on St Kilda). Then, last night, I finished Michael Pederson’s wonderful, weird novel ‘Muckle Flugga’ set on an island of the same name, off Unst, Shetland.
There’s something so unique about these incredibly remote, craggy settings that lend themselves to be drawn as mystical and simultaneously hostile to human life. Muckle Flugga is barely habitable: it takes a special type of mindset to live there. Enter ‘the father’, as rugged as the island, his manners as rough and spiky; his temperament as mercurial as the weather he must contend with. The father has what it takes to survive the Muckle Flugga life -he’s survived worse-and doesn’t suffer the kind of fools that cannae hack it. The father lives with his son, Ouse, and must also, begrudgingly, open his home to visiting lodgers upon occasion to help pay the bills.
The conflicting natures of father and son are one source of interest. Unspoken tensions & the father’s festering unresolved trauma threaten to bubble over at any point. There is a power imbalance caused by the father’s unpredictability and tendancy towards violent outbursts. But mainly, the two plod on in a domestic routine that seems to serve them both sufficiently. You can see, however, why an outsider might want to wrest Ouse away from this man and this way of living.
When Firth, a highly educated young man from the academic world of Edinburgh, descends on Muckle Flugga, his fatalistic intentions are interrupted. He finds in Ouse everything he craves to have himself: raw, incredible talent, humility, and a thirst for life even in adverse conditions. Firth’s intentions can be interpreted variously at different points: he seems to want to love & worship Ouse, sometimes to the point of possession; he casts himself as a saviour despite his many flaws; and, in midful moments, he also wants to be more like Ouse. So, Ouse is quickly hoisted onto a pedestal and Firth begins an obsessive project to ‘help’ Ouse access the recognition he deserves, and what Firth sees as a more worthy, fulfilling life in the capital. This all despite Firth himself being reinvigorated and inspired on the rocky island. As reader, Firth’s cloudy intentions, and the way he oscillates between authentic and manipulative made me feel as conflicted as I was compelled- sharing in Ouse’s own emotional journey, I guess. At the end of the novel, my feelings towards Firth are as complex as the man himself. He is troubled and does some troubling acts, but I have some real sympathy for him too as he often shows such self-awareness as he battles his own demons. Will Firth-the would-be saviour- find his own reasons to keep on living if he can’t keep up his connection to Ouse?
Wonderful Ouse is mild-mannered but not to be underestimated. Did Firth’s fateful arrival change Ouse’s trajectory? Would he have made the leap without Firth planting the seed? Talking up the possibilities, using his loval knowledge if Edinburgh to assure him he could succeed? It’s hard to say. But you are left in no doubt that Ouse has the capacity for self-determination, & the talent & character to prosper without anyone else.
It’s time for Ouse to step out from others’ shadows and make his own path.
This is a layered, character-driven novel that had me enthralled. It is often taut and psychological, the claustrophobia in the relationships emphasised by the small, difficult-to-escape setting. There’s also awe and humour; mythology and tradition; and ghosts (of all sorts but including one of the best ghosts). The use of language is fantastic: Scottish dialects, lyrical description and some delightful vocabulary bring an original voice that I loved lodging in, despite being an outsider.
There’s something so unique about these incredibly remote, craggy settings that lend themselves to be drawn as mystical and simultaneously hostile to human life. Muckle Flugga is barely habitable: it takes a special type of mindset to live there. Enter ‘the father’, as rugged as the island, his manners as rough and spiky; his temperament as mercurial as the weather he must contend with. The father has what it takes to survive the Muckle Flugga life -he’s survived worse-and doesn’t suffer the kind of fools that cannae hack it. The father lives with his son, Ouse, and must also, begrudgingly, open his home to visiting lodgers upon occasion to help pay the bills.
The conflicting natures of father and son are one source of interest. Unspoken tensions & the father’s festering unresolved trauma threaten to bubble over at any point. There is a power imbalance caused by the father’s unpredictability and tendancy towards violent outbursts. But mainly, the two plod on in a domestic routine that seems to serve them both sufficiently. You can see, however, why an outsider might want to wrest Ouse away from this man and this way of living.
When Firth, a highly educated young man from the academic world of Edinburgh, descends on Muckle Flugga, his fatalistic intentions are interrupted. He finds in Ouse everything he craves to have himself: raw, incredible talent, humility, and a thirst for life even in adverse conditions. Firth’s intentions can be interpreted variously at different points: he seems to want to love & worship Ouse, sometimes to the point of possession; he casts himself as a saviour despite his many flaws; and, in midful moments, he also wants to be more like Ouse. So, Ouse is quickly hoisted onto a pedestal and Firth begins an obsessive project to ‘help’ Ouse access the recognition he deserves, and what Firth sees as a more worthy, fulfilling life in the capital. This all despite Firth himself being reinvigorated and inspired on the rocky island. As reader, Firth’s cloudy intentions, and the way he oscillates between authentic and manipulative made me feel as conflicted as I was compelled- sharing in Ouse’s own emotional journey, I guess. At the end of the novel, my feelings towards Firth are as complex as the man himself. He is troubled and does some troubling acts, but I have some real sympathy for him too as he often shows such self-awareness as he battles his own demons. Will Firth-the would-be saviour- find his own reasons to keep on living if he can’t keep up his connection to Ouse?
Wonderful Ouse is mild-mannered but not to be underestimated. Did Firth’s fateful arrival change Ouse’s trajectory? Would he have made the leap without Firth planting the seed? Talking up the possibilities, using his loval knowledge if Edinburgh to assure him he could succeed? It’s hard to say. But you are left in no doubt that Ouse has the capacity for self-determination, & the talent & character to prosper without anyone else.
It’s time for Ouse to step out from others’ shadows and make his own path.
This is a layered, character-driven novel that had me enthralled. It is often taut and psychological, the claustrophobia in the relationships emphasised by the small, difficult-to-escape setting. There’s also awe and humour; mythology and tradition; and ghosts (of all sorts but including one of the best ghosts). The use of language is fantastic: Scottish dialects, lyrical description and some delightful vocabulary bring an original voice that I loved lodging in, despite being an outsider.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
December 17, 2025
I don’t like the word “pretentious”; I think it’s mainly used as an insult to demean works that failed to meet their aspirations and I don’t want to insult someone for trying to reach higher heights. However, I really can’t think of a better word to describe this book but “slog” is a close second. Our protagonist arrives on an island ready to kill himself but an unreciprocated romance keeps him tethered to this mortal plane. From here, we are subjected to a thousand and one cuts of repeated characterisation, meaningless happenings, and pedantic vernacular.
Three hundred pages were littered with redundancies and pointlessness. I may be telling on myself a bit but the most notable thing is the vocabulary that is abused to an unhealthy extent. Any merit that the prose had was drowned in the dullness where the events of each chapter amounted to absolutely nothing. I’d like to think I’m not an anti-intellectual but I truly cannot imagine anyone reading this book and not having their phone in hand to learn at least one new word every page. All of this is used to keep insisting some imagined depth to this island or these characters but it falls entirely flat on its face and the end result is that it commits art’s cardinal sin of being boring.
I was thrown off by an odd amount of shock value this book had to offer. It was sparse throughout the story which, when I read it, didn’t actually shock me but rather made me wonder if it was supposed to have been removed at some point in the editing process. The book never fails to remind the reader that Firth is drinking The Father’s urine but nothing comes of this – you are just supposed to have your regular dosage of pee-drinking imagery. In one particular chapter there is mention of smelling farts and cum but just in this chapter (17, if you were wondering). Don’t get me wrong, in addition to not thinking myself an anti-intellectual, I also don’t think myself a prude. I enjoy a fart and ejaculation as much as the next guy but I was honestly just confused why this was left in.
I suspect my most controversial opinions of this book are that I was not grabbed by the setting and I found the characters unlikeable and actually quite shallow. Any possibility of fondness I felt for this island was smothered and buried somewhere about one-third into the book. The characters themselves are just a rehash of classic cliches: a self-absorbed woe-is-me writer, a hardass whisky-drinking father, and a manic pixie dream girl (but this time disguised as a nineteen-year-old boy). At every turn possible, The Father is characterised as a strict and sometimes sadistic middle-aged man that the world forgot. We’re told he was once nicer and that deep down he cares but it’s actually quite sad that there’s three characters in the book (four if you count a minor named character) and this is the best it has to offer. Every time Ouse spoke, my eyes would hurt as I was repeatedly rolling them so hard I think they briefly turned into centrifuges. Nothing new is given to the reader and it doesn’t do anything else particularly well. It abandons every possibility of literary merit simply to be a vocabulary showcase featuring three of the most insufferable men each with their own personal brand of annoying.
Muckle Flugga, rich in its prose and starved for everything else, is a love letter to the English language but certainly not to literature. All in all, I’m not too sure why Michael Pedersen stopped writing poetry to write this instead. I can’t say that I liked this book or that it was for me but what I can definitively say, is that the author owns a thesaurus.
Three hundred pages were littered with redundancies and pointlessness. I may be telling on myself a bit but the most notable thing is the vocabulary that is abused to an unhealthy extent. Any merit that the prose had was drowned in the dullness where the events of each chapter amounted to absolutely nothing. I’d like to think I’m not an anti-intellectual but I truly cannot imagine anyone reading this book and not having their phone in hand to learn at least one new word every page. All of this is used to keep insisting some imagined depth to this island or these characters but it falls entirely flat on its face and the end result is that it commits art’s cardinal sin of being boring.
I was thrown off by an odd amount of shock value this book had to offer. It was sparse throughout the story which, when I read it, didn’t actually shock me but rather made me wonder if it was supposed to have been removed at some point in the editing process. The book never fails to remind the reader that Firth is drinking The Father’s urine but nothing comes of this – you are just supposed to have your regular dosage of pee-drinking imagery. In one particular chapter there is mention of smelling farts and cum but just in this chapter (17, if you were wondering). Don’t get me wrong, in addition to not thinking myself an anti-intellectual, I also don’t think myself a prude. I enjoy a fart and ejaculation as much as the next guy but I was honestly just confused why this was left in.
I suspect my most controversial opinions of this book are that I was not grabbed by the setting and I found the characters unlikeable and actually quite shallow. Any possibility of fondness I felt for this island was smothered and buried somewhere about one-third into the book. The characters themselves are just a rehash of classic cliches: a self-absorbed woe-is-me writer, a hardass whisky-drinking father, and a manic pixie dream girl (but this time disguised as a nineteen-year-old boy). At every turn possible, The Father is characterised as a strict and sometimes sadistic middle-aged man that the world forgot. We’re told he was once nicer and that deep down he cares but it’s actually quite sad that there’s three characters in the book (four if you count a minor named character) and this is the best it has to offer. Every time Ouse spoke, my eyes would hurt as I was repeatedly rolling them so hard I think they briefly turned into centrifuges. Nothing new is given to the reader and it doesn’t do anything else particularly well. It abandons every possibility of literary merit simply to be a vocabulary showcase featuring three of the most insufferable men each with their own personal brand of annoying.
Muckle Flugga, rich in its prose and starved for everything else, is a love letter to the English language but certainly not to literature. All in all, I’m not too sure why Michael Pedersen stopped writing poetry to write this instead. I can’t say that I liked this book or that it was for me but what I can definitively say, is that the author owns a thesaurus.
July 24, 2025
This is the debut fiction novel from Scottish poet and writer @michaelpedersenoyster and those poetic roots together with Scottish turns of phrase give a rich reading experience full of lyrical imagery, lush nature writing and an expansive vocabulary which had me reaching for the dictionary a few times even though I caught the gist, and words I didn't know were perfectly placed. It never felt like showing off, rather a love of language & wanting to share that with the readers.
The book is set at some point in the recent past. The island was the most northerly inhabited land in the UK until the lighthouse was automated.
This novel centres around nineteen year old Ouse & his father, the Lighthouse Keeper. They are the only inhabitants left.
The Father (we never learn his name) & Ouse supplement their income by begrudgingly taking in a lodger for a few weeks each summer. Enter, Firth, a twenty-something writer with a chaotic life that he plans on ending.
How the island & his growing love for Ouse changes him and the impact he has on Father & son is the heart of this story.
Ouse is a new favourite character for me whereas The Father is tyrannical and a hard man to like and yet there are depths within him which we glimpse from time to time. The death of The Mother some years previously has somewhat broken him.
Being referred to as The Father makes him sound god-like & in some ways he is as he holds the lives of storm tossed sea farers in his hands as his devotion to the job is a supreme effort of superhuman stamina.
I loved this book and I would equally love for a sequel to be written as I'm not ready to say goodbye to these characters. Utterly beautiful. Storms, nature, life, family, love & whisky.
The book is set at some point in the recent past. The island was the most northerly inhabited land in the UK until the lighthouse was automated.
This novel centres around nineteen year old Ouse & his father, the Lighthouse Keeper. They are the only inhabitants left.
The Father (we never learn his name) & Ouse supplement their income by begrudgingly taking in a lodger for a few weeks each summer. Enter, Firth, a twenty-something writer with a chaotic life that he plans on ending.
How the island & his growing love for Ouse changes him and the impact he has on Father & son is the heart of this story.
Ouse is a new favourite character for me whereas The Father is tyrannical and a hard man to like and yet there are depths within him which we glimpse from time to time. The death of The Mother some years previously has somewhat broken him.
Being referred to as The Father makes him sound god-like & in some ways he is as he holds the lives of storm tossed sea farers in his hands as his devotion to the job is a supreme effort of superhuman stamina.
I loved this book and I would equally love for a sequel to be written as I'm not ready to say goodbye to these characters. Utterly beautiful. Storms, nature, life, family, love & whisky.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 96 reviews