Půjčené kopce

by Scott Preston, Viktorie Hanišová (Translator)

Drsný příběh dvou rivalů z míst, kde se krutosti přírody vyrovná snad jen její krása

Píše se rok 2001 a Cumbrii, severozápadní oblast Anglie, právě postihla epidemie slintavky a kulhavky. Místní zelené kopce, po nichž se doposud proháněla volně žijící stáda ovcí, se zahalily do černého mazlavého kouře ze spálených mršin. Steve a William, dva svérázní sousedé, které nemilosrdná nemoc připravila o všechno, spojí síly a rozhodnou se čelit krutému osudu společně.

Steve pomáhá Williamovi postavit jeho farmu zpátky na nohy, ale přitom ho stále více přitahuje Williamova nezávislá manželka Helen. Jakmile na scénu vstoupí skupina kriminálníků, která začne Williama stahovat stále hlouběji do podsvětí, nezbývá Stevovi nic jiného než zachránit sebe i Helen.

Cenami ověnčený román Scotta Prestona předkládá čtenářům jinou Anglii, než jak ji známe z malebných pohlednic. Cumbrie je nelítostná a nehostinná, stejně jako její obyvatelé.

Genres: Fiction, Historical Fiction, Thriller, Literary Fiction, Westerns, Crime, Contemporary

295 pages, Hardcover

First published April 11, 2024

About the author

Scott Preston is from Windermere in the Lake District. He is a graduate of the University of Manchester’s writing program and received a PhD in creative writing from King’s College London. The Borrowed Hills is his first novel.

Reviews

[Sujoya - theoverbookedbibliophile · Rating 4 out of 5]

4.5⭐️

Dark, gritty and certainly not for the faint of heart, The Borrowed Hills by Scott Preston is a stunning debut.

The novel opens in the Cumbrian fells in 2001 and revolves around the lives of the sheep farmers whose fortunes take a turn for the worse when their flocks are afflicted by foot and mouth disease. Among the farms affected is a smallholding belonging to Steve Elliman’s father. Steve, our narrator, had left his family home in search of other opportunities but returned to help his elderly father. But when his flock is afflicted by the deadly disease, he is forced to conform to government regulations. He meets William Herne, the owner of a larger farm. William managed to separate his sick sheep from his healthy flock by hiding them away. Steve tries to help him, but they are unable to save the flock. Steve leaves but returns after he receives news of the death of his father. William is now embroiled with a shady character by the name of Colin Tinley, with whom he is planning a heist to steal the flock from a thriving farm. Steve accepts William’s offer to join him in the heist and stay on with him and his wife Helen, whom he has known since his school days, to help with the farm. The narrative follows Steve as his association with William and Colin leads him down a dark and twisted path.

Sparse yet lyrical prose and the vividly described setting transport you to the Cumbrian fells amid the beauty of hills and the struggling farming community. The author is brutal in his depiction of the fate of the diseased flock and does not hold back while describing the anguish, bleakness and violence from which Steve is unable (and somewhat unwilling) to walk away. What is found particularly compelling about Steve is that he is not portrayed as clueless is he unsuspecting of what might befall him as a consequence of his choices – be it his association with Colin, the growing tensions between him and William or his complicated feelings for Helen – but he chooses to stay, seemingly content in his solitude. The author explores the relationship between these characters and their relationship with the land they call home, the risks they would take and the limits they would cross to protect and preserve their way of life. Superb characterizations and a gripping narrative render this an immersive and powerful read.

I read a DRC of the novel and do not know whether the finished copy includes a glossary for the Cumbrian dialect interspersed throughout the novel (including the names of the chapters). Having a glossary ready to hand would have been useful.

Many thanks to Scribner for the digital review copy via NetGalley. All opinions expressed in this review are my own. This novel was published on June 4, 2024.

⚠ Please note that there are detailed scenes of animal slaughter that might be triggering for some readers.

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[Blair · Rating 5 out of 5]

I’ve been putting off writing about The Borrowed Hills; I’m worried I don’t have the ability to do it justice. My notes are crowded with ecstatic but useless phrases like ‘the real deal’ and ‘holy shit, this is a BOOK’. And in some ways I’d like to leave it at that. For better or worse, however, I like to pick apart why I loved things. So, first: this is a novel about a man, Steve Elliman, and his inheritance – not so much a literal inheritance as a way of life (shaped by centuries of farming knowledge) and character (the particular stoicism of the rural working class). It’s about how he is inexorably drawn back to the Lakes, to a volatile friend/neighbour/rival, William Herne, and to William’s wife Helen.

So many of us have a complicated love-hate attachment to the places we grew up in. What Preston does beautifully here is to capture that in a way that feels universal, but also makes it specific to the Lake District Steve knows. This is a place where farms stay in families for generations, tradition is still meaningful, and locals deride the ‘offcomers’. It’s wildly beautiful, yet bleak and hostile – a world away from the curated tourist image of the region. Every moment of The Borrowed Hills is steeped in the gristle and mulch of farming life. Some early scenes take place as the Elliman and Herne farms are afflicted by foot and mouth disease, and after reading them, that cover illustration of a sheep amid flames takes on a much more sinister significance.

Some of the language is a tough nut to crack; Steve peppers his narrative with dialect words that don’t come clear except with time and context. This creates the sense that the story, like its characters, is guarded and defensive, unwilling to letting an outsider in. (For example, the chapter titles use yan-tan-tethera, a method of counting sheep which mixes dead language with Cumbrian dialect. This is never actually explained anywhere, so it didn’t even occur to me that these titles were numbers until I was some way into the book and I realised none of the words had appeared elsewhere, so couldn’t be, as I’d vaguely supposed, place names.)

The Borrowed Hills is also a story about the violence of men alone. We’re always seeing ‘individualism’ spoken about as a modern ill; what Preston shows us, through Steve, is not so much robust independence but something more ancient; solitude as an ancient survival instinct. What can a sense of community even be, when you make your home in so remote a place? And what happens if something goes wrong within that tiny group? In a different story, Steve’s dangerous pull towards Helen might only destroy his fragile truce with William, but here it (along with the arrival of a violent new influence) becomes a threat to a whole way of life.

I read parts of this book at the same time as I was reading another, less-good book. The contrast was illuminating: while the other book disappeared from my mind as soon as I closed it, I couldn’t stop thinking about The Borrowed Hills and felt fully immersed in its world. All this bleak horror contrasting with the beauty of the landscape. There’s a central sequence that is just so exciting and tense – you feel the exhaustion, the way it never seems to end, yet how critical it is to keep going, and I read it in the same way, reluctant to put the book down until it was over.

The themes of The Borrowed Hills reminded me of knotty modern fiction about masculinity such as Ross Raisin’s Waterline and Rob Doyle’s Here Are the Young Men. But I also really think fans of Tana French need to get on this. While it’s not a crime novel (although in some ways it is?), I haven’t read anything else that approximates the same combination of a real sense of a place and a people with writing that is simultaneously lyrical, expressive and down to earth.

I received an advance review copy of The Borrowed Hills from the publisher through NetGalley.

[Nat K · Rating 4 out of 5]

”Sheep get stolen. That’s the truth.”

***Longlisted for the 2025 RSL Ondaatje Prize***

It would be ironic to play the theme music of the TV show Escape To The Country in the background while reading this book, as it doesn’t have jolly ruddy faced farmers in it, with lambs happily gamboling in the background. This is grit. Pure and simple rural grit, and the sort of book that sucks you in despite the sheer desperation of the characters in it.

Among the seemingly peaceful stone walls surrounding farms in Cumbria, death is lurking. For foot and mouth disease has come to visit. Decimating entire farms of their livestock, which have taken generations to build. The writing is utterly modern day dystopian, with the horror the farmers lived through either watching or having to take part in the slaughter of their herds. The bodies being burnt. For not a single animal could remain.

”Sundown turned the far horizon red and with the smoke spilling up it looked as if we’d set all Cumbria afire.”

Steve Elliman and his neighbour William Herne are men of few words. Both living in adjoining farms which are more than far enough in distance to not have to have too much to do with each other. Yet their paths and lives become entangled after William involves Steve (who is a lorry driver by profession) in a sheep heist. Yes, a modern day sheep wrangle. With the bright idea of stealing sheep from a hobby farm down south which has escaped the cruel arm of disease. For what is a shepherd without a herd to care for?

It’s a very masculine book. Little dialogue takes place, it’s all about the actions of others. The men do rather than feel. And with characters with names such as Bog and Mincemeat, you can guarantee that things won’t go according to plan.

It’s not my usual type of book, but the cover captured my attention. Yes, I do actually judge a book by its cover. A closeup of a sheep with the background all aflame. The writing more than lives up to the cover. Scott Preston has painted an aching picture of how tough times can really get, and how they can completely shatter you.

And oh the ending! I don’t know exactly what it was symbolic of, as by now my nerves were shredded. But it was brilliant. Rusty the sheep, the last of the original flock that had escaped slaughter, living as a hermit in an abandoned cave. Overweight, blind, elderly, unable to move from the weight of his wool. The ending could not have been more of a punch to the guts.

A gritty, dark atmospheric read, that will leave you feeling more than a bit uncomfortable. A really impressive debut novel that has tackled a pandemic that most have probably forgotten about.

This is such a flying-under-the-radar book. I really wish it had a wider audience as it is so different and will capture your thoughts and mind in all sorts of ways. So often the best book gems are those which have a quieter glow.

Postscript,04.April.2025
I've just read that this fabulous book has been nominated for the 2025 RSL Ondaatje Prize. This is an annual award of £10,000 for a distinguished work of fiction, non-fiction or poetry, evoking the spirit of a place. This story certainly does that. Fingers crossed & good luck!

[Emily May · Rating 3 out of 5]

I've been trying to convince myself I liked this one more than I did, what with it being set in the North of England and it bringing all my favourite slang to the page. It's especially great to see the underappreciated "maungy" in a book.

The Borrowed Hills has a very strong sense of place and a unique premise. It is set in Cumbria during the outbreak of foot and mouth disease in the early 2000s. There is something horror-like about this subject and setting-- farmers left destitute and desperate after being forced to watch their animals slaughtered and their bodies burned-- yet this horror was the reality for many.

Preston perfectly captures the rural setting, making it seem equally lovely and disgusting. I could picture vividly the hills and gorges. I was right there wading through the blood and muck with Steve.

I am not surprised that early US readers are likening this to the Wild West, because it certainly feels wild and lawless. Preston has painted a picture of a world set apart from the rest of society, governed by its own rules and norms, not unlike what Emily Brontë did for the Yorkshire moors in Wuthering Heights.

All this is great, but I hit a barrier as we got into the meat of the story. I loved the writing, the setting, the touches of horror, but once past the set-up of the novel I started to lose interest. The story that evolved out of this catastrophe was not one I could find engaging no matter how hard I tried. Around the middle, I lost track of what I was reading for, what I should care about.

Despite this, I finished it because of the powerful writing and sharp dialogue. It never wavers, finishing just as dark, grim and evocative as it starts. I'm interested in seeing what Preston writes next. It doesn't seem to be the avenue he's going down but I think he'd do a fantastic horror.

[Stitching Ghost · Rating 5 out of 5]

I went into this one completely blind, just based on vibes. I really enjoyed the small touch of the bizarre in this one which was really nicely juxtaposed with the cold realism of everything else in the book. It was a bleak and violent read with a character that was kind of hard to like, I could hardly put it down.

4.5 rounded up.

[Kate O'Shea · Rating 5 out of 5]

A stunning, visceral debut from Scott Preston who has written a book drenched in the oppressive atmosphere of the Cumbrian hills during one of the worst periods in the lives of hill farmers.

Steve Elliman is our narrator. He comes back to his family home to help his father during the cull of sheep due to a foot and mouth outbreak. I remember seeing the scenes of farms, farmers and families devastated by the wholesale destruction of their cattle and sheep. It was a horrific time.

After the sheep are gone Steve goes to the neighbouring farm to help out William Herne. Once William's flock is gone he leaves, going on the road far from the death and destruction. It is on his return that the trouble begins to spiral out of control and Steve is swept along with Williams increasingly dangerous schemes to save his farm.

This book is a real gut punch of a novel. The descriptions of the farmers' ravaged flocks, the struggle that they go through to save their livelihoods, are starkly drawn. The characterisations of William and Steve are of men who have led hard lives since birth and their determination to carry on is often heartbreaking.

Scott Preston has delivered an uncomfortable but excellent novel that brings to life the horror of the foot and mouth outbreak, the poverty that hill farmers endure but also the strength and determination that they have to show every day.

Highly recommended. I look forward to Scott Preston's next work.

Thankyou to Netgalley and John Murray Press for the advance review copy. Most appreciated.

[Yahaira · Rating 4 out of 5]

I’m not even sure how to talk about this book. The first 60 pages were so gripping, visceral, and perfect, that I would have accepted it ending there. I’m still choking on the smoke, burning up from the heat of the fires, covering up my ears to block out the endless bleating.

Borrowed Hills is a beautiful yet bleak novel. We’re being told the story years later by Steve - I’ve never read a truer narrator looking back, his story sounding real in the things he can’t quite remember, in the fuzzy details he gives us. The Cumbrian dialect creates an immersive narrative and yet it reflects the landscape and its farmers - guarded and not the easiest to get through (but so worth it!).

In 2001 Cumbria was the epicenter for one of the worst foot and mouth disease outbreaks in history. Steve comes back to his father’s farm just as the disease is taking hold. They try to isolate their flock as advised, but how do you manage this during lambing season? Neither imagines what is to come and what does is some of the most harrowing, chaotic brutality I’ve read. The government did not only cull the livestock, but nearly killed the farmers with their losses.

Steve leaves what was the farm and goes back to his job as a lorry driver. We get years of this lonely road life until his father’s death calls him back to Cumbria and the story takes another dark turn. His old neighbor William ropes him into stealing a flock from a large, touristy farm so they can get back to sheep herding. I’ll let you find out how this goes on your own, but I’ve never felt like I walked against the wind for hours through muck and hills like I did in this book.

I can see the McCarthy comparisons coming. While the rhythmic and stark prose, and black humor, is Preston’s own, the rugged masculinity, the isolation, the violence, the almost claustrophobic, insular atmosphere while taking place in what feels like a large expanse, all come together to feel like a Western. Instead of expanding frontiers or taming the land, Preston flips it into holding on to something you can barely control, desperately trying to get back to an old way of life.

[Katrina Clarke · Rating 5 out of 5]

I relished this bloody, twisting story of men chained by both guts and heart to the sheep-shat hills.

(this is my unprofessional review)

[Ben Dutton · Rating 5 out of 5]

Scott Preston's debut novel, The Borrowed Hills, arrives razor-sharp, a brutal tale of foot and mouth disease in Cumbria and the lengths some farmers go to make a living in those beautiful hills. It's language is rich, evocative of Cormac McCarthy and Faulkner at times, but cut through with Cumbrian grit.

William Herne and Steve Elliman, two local farmers, seek to reverse their fortunes by rustling livestock from the south. It is an unusual tale, its plot description sounding like something from 19th Century frontier America, but this is the story of desolate, burnt farms, dimly lit service stations and rural life in the modern age.

This is a startlingly brilliant debut, one which gripped me on every page. For me it's sure to be one of the highlights of 2024.

Thanks to the publishers and Netgalley for the ARC.

[emily]

A ‘DNF’ for me, stopping at about a bit over halfway through. Conceptually, this is everything I want to read, but stylistically, it just wasn’t for me. Too much dialogue for me to stomach (and in terms of that, perhaps because I like and read ‘plays’/scripts, I like very powerful and succinct lines; the ones in this novel fell/felt rather weak/short for me, personally), but I’m sure a different reader will better appreciate it. Grateful for the advance copy of the book regardless. I look forward to reading the next book Preston writes.

Not quite sure what this book reminds me of, but I expected it to be something falling somewhere in between the film ‘God’s Own Country’ (Francis Lee, 2017) and The Dig by Cynan Jones. The film I like. The Jones novel, I feel considerably conflicted about (because plot-wise, it’s again what I think I would like very much, and am interested in, but structurally/stylistically, it didn’t quite hit as hard as I wanted it to). In any case, I would still love to see more of these sorts of books published. Not many of these out there, really. Someone should write one to beat Hardy’s Far From the Madding Crowd (and perhaps not even use any ‘romantic’ plot-lines as vehicle(s) to carry/support the main narrative). Would be thrilled to see that.

[Bbecca_marie · Rating 3 out of 5]

The Borrowed shills by Scott Preston

Thank you so much partner Scribner for my gifted copy.

Blurb:
A Wild West–type tale of rustling and villainy, blood and belonging, transposed to the bleakly beautiful fells and sheep flocks of northern England. . . . This is an elemental tale shaded in tones of heroism, machismo, moral intensity, and mythmaking.

✨ My thoughts:
It’s the cover that drew me in and the story that made me stay. This book is vivid and atmospheric, and will have you feeling like you are right in the story. I will say, Scott Preston has a unique writing style and it took me a second to get the hang it of but man is the story wild in all of the ways. I can honestly say I’ve never read anything quite like this and I would love to see what the author writes next. Over all I have mixed feelings and still not quite sure where I land for a star rating BUT what I do know, is that The Borrowed Hills is one hell of a story. I look forward to seeing everyone’s thoughts on it! This book is out in the US 6/4/24!

Happy reading 📖

[Emily · Rating 5 out of 5]

Growing up in Cumbria in the early 2000s, Foot and Mouth Disease was the bogeyman that haunted the lives of everyone in the community. If you weren’t from a farming family yourself, you knew someone who lost their stock to it. I think I learned more about Foot and Mouth as a child than I did about any other kind of disease. Being so young, I always felt so terrible thinking about the animals. Thinking about how one mistake led to the slaughter of thousands.

But it was the farmers — the hardened, Northern, working class farmers — whose livelihoods were hurt most by it.

I love the representation Preston gives to the people of our home county. This book fed me — I devoured it in one sitting — it sated something in me I’d yearned to read for longer than I realised. A truer portrait of how it feels to grow up in this part of the world, always longing to leave but always finding yourself dragged back toward it. Something, somehow, always brings you back to the Lakes. It was never the lakes themselves for me, but those same endless fells that Preston gives so much page-time. As a Northerner, as a native Cumbrian, this book was so true to the experience of so many. It was the lives of the friends who grew up saying they wanted more but inherited the family farm. It was the sheep I walked past on my way to school. It was the very blood and bone and marrow of the people whose work and lives are forgotten by the tourists, the Romantics and the ramblers seeking the picturesque.

The Western element was refreshing. I don’t think I’ve ever read anything like it — at least, not anything set in the UK. It didn’t have the grime of a classic crime novel, no. But it had a masterful, subtly hard edge through to the slammer of the crescendo at the mid-point of the story. It was a magically inventive take on the Western genre.

The prose in this novel is something else. It’s like McCarthy if he was raised in the Lakes. It has this flowing lifeblood to it that, when I read a few passages aloud, I found myself reverting back to that long-hidden Cumbrian dialect I thought I’d lost when I emigrated.
It’s gut-punchingly sharp and well-written. It’s beautiful, jarring, magical. It transports you to the old West while simultaneously never letting you forget where you are. You feel the author’s love for his home county, you feel the sense of mournful sadness that spills throughout the whole thing. Never quite getting any fulfilment from the routine, but never expecting anything more.

I loved this book. If this is the standard for Preston’s debut, I expect we’ll be seeing some heavyweights from him in the future. I think everyone should read it.

Also special mention of the Burger King on the M6. Thats a true landmark, that.

[Andy Weston · Rating 3 out of 5]

I’m always interested in novels about the Lake District, especially when they are written by a Cumbrian author, and here is a debut novel from a writer who lives in Windermere.
Preston’s Lake District is the Wild West though, in this improbable story of sheep rustling and malfeasance amongst our rainswept fells and tarns.

It begins with the harrowing consequences of foot and mouth disease spreading through the region’s farms, with sheep and cattle slaughtered in their thousands and farmers ruined. The protagonist, Steve Ellman, is something of a loner, lends a hand to a neighbouring farmer, William Herne, with a savoury reputation, as he bends to rules.

The story then skips a decade, Steve leaves farming to drive trucks, returning only to Cumbria on the death of his father.
At the wake, Herne musters Steve into another risky enterprise, this time as getaway driver for a sheep heist.. yes, indeed.

There’s plenty of good things about this novel, its pacy, and there is plenty of action, but Preston does ask the reader for a sizeable suspension of belief. I can’t help thinking that it would have worked better as a comedy.

I live in the Lake District, and am aware that I tend to judge novels written here a bit harshly. I am sure it will received well by visitors.
It is a competent launch from Preston.

[Vicko Sicko · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a review of an Uncorrected Proof

Thought this was going to be 4 but the more I stew and think about it I think it deserves the 5.

Beautiful prose up against such a bleak and harrowing story really does just get me.

Also, throughout the book I thought the chapter titles were just numbers but I've since learned they're Yan Than Tethera, a sheep counting system from Northern England.
I found myself googling terms, phrases and places throughout this book which I initially thought was pulling me out of the story but by the end you really do get the sense more and more that this truly is a sneak peak into this world that is seen from a distance by most. That we really don't understand, or even make an effort to.
Steve leads you through just how beautiful this world can be if you really look, but also how dark and twisted things can get if you let it.

A very powerful book with a lot to say about the rage of man, isolation and the communities of the world that don't get much attention.

[leah]

rtc!

[Kate Vane · Rating 5 out of 5]

The Borrowed Hills is narrated by Steve Elliman, looking back on his life and his complicated relationship with his home in the sheep farms of Cumbria. In his youth he is desperate to escape his father’s farm, but he keeps returning, the first time during the foot-and-mouth crisis, which has a vivid impact on the landscape and the people in it.

Later he becomes embroiled in the increasingly baroque law-breaking schemes of William Herne, a neighbouring farmer turned sheep rustler, drawn not least by his complicated feelings for William’s wife, Helen, the only significant female character, who nonetheless holds her own in a world of men.

Preston’s writing is fresh and vivid in its description of the landscape and its inhabitants – not least the sheep. Steve and his neighbours have a deep, visceral connection to the land – deepened by the paradox that many of the farmers are tenants, who will never own the places they know and care for.

There is a vein of bleak humour running through the novel and the dialogue is brilliant, blunt and terse, each monosyllabic phrase freighted with a meaning the characters will never deign to explain.

I probably wouldn’t have got the neo-Western references in The Borrowed Hills without a nudge from the publisher, but once seen it’s unmissable. The world Preston describes is lawless, far from anywhere, bound by its own impenetrable codes. While tourists and second-home dwellers and the state (police, army, taxes) are there in the background, they rarely intrude into the mental landscape of the protagonists, except as obstacles to go around.

The character of Steve remains an enigma. He is strong and resourceful, yet he appears to be unable to extricate himself, first from his father’s farm, and then from the Hernes and their herd. As the story unfolds you think you understand the pull of the place, but no one, least of all Steve, is going to spell it out for you.
*
I received a copy of The Borrowed Hills from the publisher via NetGalley.

[Jana C · Rating 4 out of 5]

3.75/5
"The Borrowed Hills" consists of all of the components that I like in a novel and I did like so many aspects of it, I love how tangible the descriptions of the landscape feel and how you can taste the loneliness and the vastness of the land, but the way the plots unfolds throughout the middle section kind of lost me. I think I would have liked to stay more in the everyday, psychological dimension of the isolation and horror than in the very material, more actiony kind.

[Teagan King · Rating 3 out of 5]

As a girl raised on a sheep farm, I was really looking forward to the idea of sheep-farm horror. But unfortunately, the execution of the plot fell a little flat for me. However, the voice was intriguing and I found the novel as a whole to be enjoyable. The opening, with all the scenes of burning sheep due to disease was exactly the kind of body horror I was looking for, I just had hoped it would carry more throughout the story. I received an ARC via the publisher in exchange for an honest review.

[BONNIE SMITH · Rating 4 out of 5]

I received this as a Goodreads win, thank you to the author and Schribner books for the opportunity to read and review.

What I love about Goodreads giveaways- I read a ton of books I would never pick up normally.
The Borrowed Hills is one of those books.

The best way to describe this book is UNSETTLING.
In the same way "Of Mice and Men" and "East of Eden" were just unsettling, the reader is always aware that something is not right, and that all things are not going to end well.
Comparing Mr. Preston here to Steinbeck, well, is quite the compliment, but he has that uncanny way of making each situation feel foreboding. Only certain authors can create that tension when writing outside of the actual thriller or horror genre, and in my opinion this author has it.

So while this book is not my usual chosen genre, and not one I will be anxious to re-read, this deserves a full four stars. Very well written and thought out- even the chapter names have meaning. By the 5th chapter I knew these chapter names had to mean something, so looking several up, they appear to be the way these sheep farmers would count off their sheep.
THAT is extremely thoughtful in this book.

If you love atmospheric tension, pick it up.

[Louis · Rating 4 out of 5]

Unique from anything else I’ve ever read.

A neo-western cowboy plot but set in the drastic landscape of the English north.
The prose is interesting and took me a few chapters to settle to. Short and matter-of-fact sentences make the plot reel to you like a story in a pub, but this fits the language used and the story told very well.

Enjoyed a lot, and went in with no expectations.

““I don’t know what it is, but if you know a fella who breeds ferrets, there’s nowt he can’t get his hands on.”

[Jeanny · Rating 4 out of 5]

Eine kleine raue Perle

Ich wusste nicht was mich erwarten würde. Selbst lange in der Geschichte selbst, wusste ich nie, wo es als nächstes hingehen würde. Diese Collagenhaftigkeit machte das Ganze sehr spannend.

Anfangs war die Dialogsprache gewöhnungsbedürftig: kurz angebundene Charaktere, karg und ruppig wie die Landschaft des Tals. Es ist eine Geschichte vom Leben und Überleben unter gegebenen Umständen, von Hoffnung und Träumen, denen man folgt oder eben nicht. Manchmal unerwartet brutal, aber immer einnehmen genug, das man das weitere Schicksal der Figuren kennen will.

[Ross · Rating 2 out of 5]

did not enjoy

[Ray Labbe · Rating 5 out of 5]

“For fans of Annie Proulx and Cormac McCarthy” and well, that’s me! A debut novel that I loved - my first 5 star fiction read this year. It opens with the outbreak of foot and mouth disease amongst the sheep farms of northern England circa 2001. It’s a tipping point for a hard scrabble community that had invested generations of sacrifice. As the story unfolds the main characters have to examine their loyalty to the land and the lengths they’re willing to go to survive. It’s a violent and poignant tale that has heists, funerals, brawls, and forbidden love. From the very first page I was hooked - highly recommended!

[Imi · Rating 4 out of 5]

★★★★½

I’m no rambler. Your legs and knees and hips aren’t made to go forever, and you’re born with only so many mountains in you.

I picked this up because a thriller set near where I grew up (Cumbria, England) in a struggling farming community, around the time of the foot and mouth outbreak, sounded very grim and dark. And it was. The early scenes of burning, diseased sheep set a very sinister tone (massive trigger warning for graphic depictions of animal slaughter), and what follows is a chaotic spiral of bad decisions. I'm not going to say too much, because although not super plot heavy, I always think these kind of brooding novels need to experienced without too much foreknowledge.

Multiple times I searched for a glossary of Cumbrian terminology somewhere in my ebook copy. I've only just now found out, upon finishing the book, that the chapter names are actually the Cumbrian dialect numbers for counting sheep. (I consider myself as being from Cumbria, but I was not born and bred there, and my family is not in farming, so some, certainly not all, words may be vaguely familiar to me but not really understandable.)

Even without that glossary (and perhaps keeping things a little unclear was intentional?), I love the use of dialect throughout. It really adds to the sense of place in these hostile hills. The prose overall is gorgeous despite some very grim happenings. The characterisation is also very solid.

While I fear being repetitive (because I have definitely said this in reviews of books I have enjoyed before!), I have to say that Tana French fans need to pick this up. The sense of place in a troubled rural community, with realistic and strong characterisation, despite a few bizarre thriller-esque turns, makes it easy to recommend.

I absolutely will be reading whatever Preston writes next!

[Jeffrey · Rating 4 out of 5]

‘The Borrowed Hills’ left dirt under my nails, a stench on my skin and a chill that soaked to my bones. Scott Preston’s lyrical prose is blunt yet vivid. This Detroit-born reader had to adjust his ear to the dialogue but soon was following the character’s voices through a mesmerizing tale.
A story that is intriguing, disheartening, maybe even a bit overwhelming - I was willingly trudging through the fields with our characters and their sheep to find what may lay ahead. Uncharted territory for me but I was being led by characters that were fully fleshed by the mind of this fascinating author. Highly recommend.

[Annie · Rating 4 out of 5]

Steve, the narrator, is a sheepfarmer's son in Cumbria. The landscape and life as a farmer is well described, the despair after culling the livestock during foot and mouth disease, the loneliness of the life and the ways to make a living, sometimes legal, sometimes not. I had to get used to the writing style, but after the first few chapters (numbered with the sheep counting system) it did hook me in. It was worth perservering with.
An unusual book, thanks to Net Galley for the ARC, I look forward to reading more from Scott Preston

[Mary · Rating 5 out of 5]

Preston’s debut is a riveting tale of struggling sheep farming in England’s North Cumbrian fella. Its starts with the horrific slaughter of flocks infected with Foot and Mouth, and is not for the faint of heart. This is a brutal novel filled with stunning prose and a harsh setting that is as memorable as it is beautiful.
I eagerly look forward to Scott Preston’s sophomore effort.
The audiobook is narrated by David Crellin whose fabulous voice is reminiscent of Ray Miland. It’s a perfect listen, if the story appeals to you, but it certainly won’t be everyone’s cup of tea. Highly recommend.

[Mike · Rating 3 out of 5]

The first half of the book was excellent but thereafter……the plot degenerated until it seems the author had problems figuring out an ending. Overall better than a two star.

[Kirsten · Rating 3 out of 5]

2001 war das Jahr, in dem sich für viele Farmer im englischen Lake District das Leben dramatisch änderte. Eine tödliche Seuche vertrieb die Schafe von den Hügeln und ließ nur den beißenden Rauch ihrer brennenden Kadaver zurück. Auch Steve Elliman und William Herne sind unter denjenigen, die alles zu verlieren drohen. Die Tiere auf der Farm von Steves Vater sind erkrankt und sollen getötet werden, William unternimmt alles, um seiner Herde dieses Schicksal zu ersparen. Um ihre Lebensgrundlage zu erhalten, sehen die beiden Männer nur eine Möglichkeit: den Diebstahl einer Herde.

Erzählt wird die Geschichte von Steve. Eigentlich hat er den Hof und die Gegend schon lange verlassen und arbeitet als Kraftfahrer. Jetzt ist er zurückgekommen, um seinen Vater zu unterstützen, Nicht aus Zuneigung, sondern einem Gefühl der Verpflichtung heraus, dem er sich nicht entziehen kann. Das ist auch sein Grund, William Herne zu unterstützen. Die beiden Männer kennen sich nicht gut und mögen sich noch weniger, aber abzulehnen, als Herne ihn um Hilfe bittet, kommt für Steve nicht in Frage.

Ich habe Steve im Verlauf der Geschichte nie anders als passiv erlebt. Er lässt sein Leben von Anderen bestimmen und weicht nicht von deren vorgegebenen Kurs ab. Auch als sich die Zusammenarbeit mit William in eine Richtung entwickelt, die er eigentlich nicht mehr mitgehen will, bleibt er bei ihm. Eigeninitiative scheint ihm fremd zu sein, obwohl er seine Situation sehr wohl reflektiert., Aber weiter geht er nicht. Auch wenn er seine Geschichte erzählt, habe ich ihn nie wirklich kennengelernt. So geht es mir auch mit den anderen Charakteren, die mir im Lauf der Handlung nicht näherkommen.

[Donald Bellefeuille · Rating 5 out of 5]

Scott Preston took me into a world I knew nothing about in his debut novel The Borrowed Hills: sheep farming in the Cumbrian hills of northwestern England. Even if it was simply and only about that I would have been satisfied but the author takes us deep into another world: our relationship with the land and what it means to us.
The book starts out with one of the best opening sequences I’ve read in a long time: the slaughtering of sheep flocks infected with foot and mouth disease. This sets off the theft of an unaffected flock. What the main characters do after this is the story, each one ‘borrowing’ the hills for their own purpose.

Want to be a sheep farmer?
Here’s what it takes and this long quote gives you a taste of Preston’s pungent writing style:

“I’d a list of chores that ran longer than a year and they were written on my hands as blisters. Sowing wheat and sowing rye, sowing early barley for slaughter lambs, sowing turnips, kale, rapeseed to break the soil, sowing clover and cat’s tail, tilling, mowing, threshing, machines to do it for me, drying beds of wet crop and bailing all that’s left, black-wrapped bundles in walls a pin could burst, feeding sheep on cold plates of silage, feeding them on nettles, guzzling troughs filled up with rainwater, fixing bollocks, fixing foot rot, fixing motors, driving a thousand sheep with one dog, shouting, screaming, bawling, penning them in with my legs, with fences, worming, dipping, tupping, shearing, lambing, swinging babies back to life and feeding mams the newborn fat from each yellow finger, mucking, bloody mucking, grassy, sweet and sticky, tagging, docking, fresh-cut tails wagging on the floor, swearing, bleeding, shitting, smelling strong as petrol, drenching every mouth to dribble, and burying all the fallen stock the knacker man wouldn’t take.”

Read the second sentence out loud, slow. It’s almost a form of chanting. There are many other examples in the book.

Those sheep roam the land.
That’s the nub of it for me, the land. Just like the quote above, Preston goes into great detail about the hill country describing every crag, tarn, boulder, vale, and beck, bringing the land to life for you the same as it is for the characters. Preston is not overstating when he goes in such great detail. It’s necessary to understand the underlying motivations of the characters and necessary for the reader to feel it.

And get stuck in it.
It took me awhile to parse the final scene. It involves a sheep we’ve met before, a sheep who is not just on the land but within it and physically attached to it. To me it was a perfect summary of the book’s theme. I don’t want to say anymore because other readers may have different interpretations.

The Borrowed Hills is dark, a darkness embedded in the truth of our relationship to the earth we walk on, what we’ll do to keep it for ourselves, what we’ll do to stop others from having it. For me, it wasn’t just about the hills we borrow. It’s also our lives and the lives of others we borrow for good and ill during our brief time trodding the land under our feet.