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The Stolen Child
May 1959. From one side of St. Brigid’s Island, the mountains of Connemara can be glimpsed on the distant mainland; from the other, the Atlantic stretches as far as the eye can see. This remote settlement, without electricity or even a harbor, has scarcely altered since its namesake saint set up a convent of stone huts centuries ago. Those who live there, including sisters Rose and Emer, are hardy and resourceful, dependent on the sea and each other for survival. Despite the island’s natural beauty, it is a place that people move away from, not to—until an outspoken American, also named Brigid, arrives to claim her late uncle’s cottage.
Brigid has come for more than an inheritance. She’s seeking a secret holy well that’s rumored to grant miracles. Emer, as scarred and wary as Rose is friendly and beautiful, has good reason to believe in inexplicable powers. Despite her own strange abilities—or perhaps because of them—Emer fears that she won’t be able to save her young son, Niall, from a growing threat. Yet Brigid has a gift too, even more remarkable than Emer’s. As months pass and Brigid carves out a place on the island and in the sisters’ lives, a complicated web of betrayal, fear, and desire culminates in one shocking night that will change the island, and its inhabitants, forever.
Steeped in Irish history and lore, The Stolen Child is a mesmerizing descent into old world beliefs, and a captivating exploration of desire, myth, motherhood, and love in all its forms.
Brigid has come for more than an inheritance. She’s seeking a secret holy well that’s rumored to grant miracles. Emer, as scarred and wary as Rose is friendly and beautiful, has good reason to believe in inexplicable powers. Despite her own strange abilities—or perhaps because of them—Emer fears that she won’t be able to save her young son, Niall, from a growing threat. Yet Brigid has a gift too, even more remarkable than Emer’s. As months pass and Brigid carves out a place on the island and in the sisters’ lives, a complicated web of betrayal, fear, and desire culminates in one shocking night that will change the island, and its inhabitants, forever.
Steeped in Irish history and lore, The Stolen Child is a mesmerizing descent into old world beliefs, and a captivating exploration of desire, myth, motherhood, and love in all its forms.
384 pages, Kindle Edition
First published January 10, 2017
265 people are currently reading
3105 people want to read
About the author
Lisa Carey
8 books221 followersLisa Carey was born in 1970 in Boston, Massachusetts to Irish-American parents. She grew up in Brookline and later moved with her family to Hingham, Massachusetts.
She attended Boston College and received a B.A. in English and Philosophy in 1992.
Pursuing her MFA in Writing, she took a semester off and lived in Inishbofin, Ireland for six months. There, Carey began her first novel, The Mermaids Singing. This novel was her creative thesis for her MFA and she graduated from Vermont College in 1996.
For five years, Carey divided her time between Ireland and New England, where she wrote her next two novels, In the Country of the Young and Love in the Asylum.
In 2003, she married Timothy Spalding. They moved to Portland, Maine, where she finished her fourth novel, Every Visible Thing. They live there still with their son, Liam Patrick. She returns to Ireland whenever she can.
She recently finished her fifth novel, The Stolen Child, which will be published by HarperCollins in January, 2017.
She attended Boston College and received a B.A. in English and Philosophy in 1992.
Pursuing her MFA in Writing, she took a semester off and lived in Inishbofin, Ireland for six months. There, Carey began her first novel, The Mermaids Singing. This novel was her creative thesis for her MFA and she graduated from Vermont College in 1996.
For five years, Carey divided her time between Ireland and New England, where she wrote her next two novels, In the Country of the Young and Love in the Asylum.
In 2003, she married Timothy Spalding. They moved to Portland, Maine, where she finished her fourth novel, Every Visible Thing. They live there still with their son, Liam Patrick. She returns to Ireland whenever she can.
She recently finished her fifth novel, The Stolen Child, which will be published by HarperCollins in January, 2017.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 277 reviews
December 31, 2016
St. Brigid's Island, off the west coast of Ireland, the home of generations of families, families that have been touched by the myths and folklore of Ireland. The home of fairies and changelings, superstition and belief in the old ways. Emer and Rose twins, now in their twenties, Rose happy and fair, has given birth to many sets of twins, Emer, dark, brooding, a touch of her hand causes hopelessness in all but her twin. Married to brothers, Emer only one son, a son she watches over stringently, afraid the fairies will take him when he turns seven.
Another Brigid arrives on the island, the daughter of a woman who left the island when the islanders turned on her, said to be touched by the fairy darkness herself. Brigid has a tragic back story all her own, but she has now come to the island to find St. Brigid's well, a well whose water is said to perform miracles and Brgid wants something very badly.
The island is fictitious although the Saint herself is not, the miracles associated with her well documented. This is not a light read, it is a novel of a family, an island but of darkness as well. The magical realism within is not used in a light manner, but to reinforce the folklore, the myths that inhabit these people's lives, the fear of believing in something of which one has little control. Fairies, changeling and mystical happenings have long been a part of these people beings, they believe wholeheartedly in these things, passed down within families.
Dark and delicious is how I would describe this book. Well written, well paced, the characters each different and connected by the island's past. If you enjoyed The Bear and the Nightingale, I think you would like this one too. Myths in a culture brought to life, both dark and intense, but with small glimpses of light.
ARC from publisher and librarything.
Publishes the beginning of February..
Another Brigid arrives on the island, the daughter of a woman who left the island when the islanders turned on her, said to be touched by the fairy darkness herself. Brigid has a tragic back story all her own, but she has now come to the island to find St. Brigid's well, a well whose water is said to perform miracles and Brgid wants something very badly.
The island is fictitious although the Saint herself is not, the miracles associated with her well documented. This is not a light read, it is a novel of a family, an island but of darkness as well. The magical realism within is not used in a light manner, but to reinforce the folklore, the myths that inhabit these people's lives, the fear of believing in something of which one has little control. Fairies, changeling and mystical happenings have long been a part of these people beings, they believe wholeheartedly in these things, passed down within families.
Dark and delicious is how I would describe this book. Well written, well paced, the characters each different and connected by the island's past. If you enjoyed The Bear and the Nightingale, I think you would like this one too. Myths in a culture brought to life, both dark and intense, but with small glimpses of light.
ARC from publisher and librarything.
Publishes the beginning of February..
November 12, 2020
“Steeped in Irish history and lore, The Stolen Child is a mesmerizing descent into old world beliefs, and a captivating exploration of desire, myth, motherhood, and love in all its forms.”
We’ve been told that the Irish are a superstitious lot. This is even more true of rural Ireland of sixty years ago, when this novel is set. A fictional island of fishers and farmers, with no running water or electricity, St. Brigid’s Island is almost as antiquated as the Celtic saint whose name it bears. A three-mile long island that houses just eight families, myriad sheep, and no trees. The islanders have suffered many loses and the graveyard is on a point of land near where the boats dock.
“The first thing you see when you row a boat to this island is all the children who have already gone.”
“Living here is like being slowly drowned, held down on a rock and left for the tide to come in”
The island has a well, a holy well, said to have magical powers attributed to Brigid. The islanders hold an odd juxtaposition of beliefs. They are Roman Catholics, but they also believe in the ‘fairies’ or little people. They all have a St. Brigid’s cross adorning their cottage walls. When they are in need of succor they pray to the Catholic saints, then, to cover their bases, they pray to the fairies…
There are two female protagonists in “The stolen child“, a story that tells of women who are stretched to their limit both physically and emotionally – and then called upon to endure even more.
Emer uses her hands to do damage. Leaching away other people’s happiness is the only thing she has ever been able to do.
Emer, a caustic, dour and joyless woman of twenty-three years. Twin sister to the joyful and sunny Rose, mother to Niall whom she adores. She has never had a friend and has always felt ‘alone’. Emer lost one of her eyes years ago to an infection brought about by myriad bee stings. Though the islanders believe in the holy healing powers of the sacred well, the waters failed to save Emer’s eye. Emer and her twin sister have known unimaginable hardship in their short lives. When they were just twelve years old, their mother had a stroke and they’ve been doing all the work ever since. Girls on this island were born to work and help their mothers. Boys were born to please their mothers. Emer lives in fear that Niall, her son and the light of her life, will be ‘stolen‘. She fears that the fairies will seek retribution.
Emer had such low expectations and then watched,
time and again, as they were realized
Rose is the ‘good’ sister married to the hard-working Austin, the good brother. Emer is the ‘bad’ sister married to the lesser brother, Patch, a drunkard. Emer has never known happiness and she spreads her bitterness to whomever she meets – until she meets Brigid.
“They would never be pure,
but they were expected to attack the tarnish daily.”
Brigid uses her hands to heal.
Brigid, nearing her fortieth birthday, has come to the island from the American state of Maine. The daughter of a lighthouse keeper, Brigid is no stranger to hard work and hardship herself. Her mother’s family were from this island, and now she has returned… A widow who has suffered many miscarriages, she longs for a child of her own. She hopes that the island’s holy well will bring about a miracle and bring her a child and the peace she has craved all her life.
Brigid befriends a stray and half starved dog whom she names Rua. She is her constant companion. “She loved that stupid creature as if it were her own child and not a dog at all”.
But Brigid has come to an island with a dying way of life, one that is soon to end, for the islanders are to be relocated to the mainland.
“the sea looks like a calm blue walkway pretending as though it never tries to trap them in rage.”
This is a story rich with Irish folklore about strong and resilient Irish women. A novel which poses the question: If you want and crave something strong enough… can YOU MAKE it happen? Historical fiction liberally doused throughout with magical realism – with themes of motherhood, superstition, betrayal, suspicion, endurance, loneliness, and grief.
“When something is stolen from you, it is sometimes easier to act like you never wanted it in the first place.”
As a background tale, the novel also tells of the history of the Celtic saint Brigid, and her colony of medieval pagan nuns that once inhabited the island. The nuns lived a harsh and brutal existence, residing in pairs in beehive-shaped stone huts called clochans. Like the protagonists of the novel, they too were women fending for themselves in dire circumstances.
“There is a striking similarity between anticipation and dread”.
Written with beautiful language and turns of phrase, the story causes the reader to become enraptured by the women, the island, and even St. Brigid herself. The author took five years to write “The stolen child” which was inspired by Kieran Concannon’s documentary film, “Death of an island“. Highly recommended!
I wish to thank HarperCollins publishers who provided me with a digital copy of this novel via Edelweiss. A perfect addition to my “Reading Ireland” month entries.
We’ve been told that the Irish are a superstitious lot. This is even more true of rural Ireland of sixty years ago, when this novel is set. A fictional island of fishers and farmers, with no running water or electricity, St. Brigid’s Island is almost as antiquated as the Celtic saint whose name it bears. A three-mile long island that houses just eight families, myriad sheep, and no trees. The islanders have suffered many loses and the graveyard is on a point of land near where the boats dock.
“The first thing you see when you row a boat to this island is all the children who have already gone.”
“Living here is like being slowly drowned, held down on a rock and left for the tide to come in”
The island has a well, a holy well, said to have magical powers attributed to Brigid. The islanders hold an odd juxtaposition of beliefs. They are Roman Catholics, but they also believe in the ‘fairies’ or little people. They all have a St. Brigid’s cross adorning their cottage walls. When they are in need of succor they pray to the Catholic saints, then, to cover their bases, they pray to the fairies…
There are two female protagonists in “The stolen child“, a story that tells of women who are stretched to their limit both physically and emotionally – and then called upon to endure even more.
Emer uses her hands to do damage. Leaching away other people’s happiness is the only thing she has ever been able to do.
Emer, a caustic, dour and joyless woman of twenty-three years. Twin sister to the joyful and sunny Rose, mother to Niall whom she adores. She has never had a friend and has always felt ‘alone’. Emer lost one of her eyes years ago to an infection brought about by myriad bee stings. Though the islanders believe in the holy healing powers of the sacred well, the waters failed to save Emer’s eye. Emer and her twin sister have known unimaginable hardship in their short lives. When they were just twelve years old, their mother had a stroke and they’ve been doing all the work ever since. Girls on this island were born to work and help their mothers. Boys were born to please their mothers. Emer lives in fear that Niall, her son and the light of her life, will be ‘stolen‘. She fears that the fairies will seek retribution.
Emer had such low expectations and then watched,
time and again, as they were realized
Rose is the ‘good’ sister married to the hard-working Austin, the good brother. Emer is the ‘bad’ sister married to the lesser brother, Patch, a drunkard. Emer has never known happiness and she spreads her bitterness to whomever she meets – until she meets Brigid.
“They would never be pure,
but they were expected to attack the tarnish daily.”
Brigid uses her hands to heal.
Brigid, nearing her fortieth birthday, has come to the island from the American state of Maine. The daughter of a lighthouse keeper, Brigid is no stranger to hard work and hardship herself. Her mother’s family were from this island, and now she has returned… A widow who has suffered many miscarriages, she longs for a child of her own. She hopes that the island’s holy well will bring about a miracle and bring her a child and the peace she has craved all her life.
Brigid befriends a stray and half starved dog whom she names Rua. She is her constant companion. “She loved that stupid creature as if it were her own child and not a dog at all”.
But Brigid has come to an island with a dying way of life, one that is soon to end, for the islanders are to be relocated to the mainland.
“the sea looks like a calm blue walkway pretending as though it never tries to trap them in rage.”
This is a story rich with Irish folklore about strong and resilient Irish women. A novel which poses the question: If you want and crave something strong enough… can YOU MAKE it happen? Historical fiction liberally doused throughout with magical realism – with themes of motherhood, superstition, betrayal, suspicion, endurance, loneliness, and grief.
“When something is stolen from you, it is sometimes easier to act like you never wanted it in the first place.”
As a background tale, the novel also tells of the history of the Celtic saint Brigid, and her colony of medieval pagan nuns that once inhabited the island. The nuns lived a harsh and brutal existence, residing in pairs in beehive-shaped stone huts called clochans. Like the protagonists of the novel, they too were women fending for themselves in dire circumstances.
“There is a striking similarity between anticipation and dread”.
Written with beautiful language and turns of phrase, the story causes the reader to become enraptured by the women, the island, and even St. Brigid herself. The author took five years to write “The stolen child” which was inspired by Kieran Concannon’s documentary film, “Death of an island“. Highly recommended!
I wish to thank HarperCollins publishers who provided me with a digital copy of this novel via Edelweiss. A perfect addition to my “Reading Ireland” month entries.
July 9, 2017
Beautifully written, with a lyrical feel to it, well paced 'The Stolen Child' is steeped in Irish folklore, tales of fairies and changelings, superstitions and pure human emotions, love and hate and blame.
I loved the strong women in that story, Emer and Brigid especially. Both so different yet so alike. Both willing to do whatever it takes to protect what matters to them the most.
It's a dark but beautiful story, full of emotion and well crafted characters. It won't appeal to everyone but if you enjoy Irish set stories with lines between reality and magic blurred, give a try. It's worth it.
I loved the strong women in that story, Emer and Brigid especially. Both so different yet so alike. Both willing to do whatever it takes to protect what matters to them the most.
It's a dark but beautiful story, full of emotion and well crafted characters. It won't appeal to everyone but if you enjoy Irish set stories with lines between reality and magic blurred, give a try. It's worth it.
February 27, 2017
On an island off the coast of Ireland, an American woman comes to live and claim the house of her deceased uncle-and she comes to find St. Brigids holy well. This is about survival in a harsh environment, friendship, love, superstition and myth. In the acknowledgements the author mentions a film"Death of an Island" being the inspiration for the plot. I watched it right after I finished the book and it was exactly how I pictured the island.
February 20, 2017
This was one of those books where I just wanted to rush home to read, loudly grumbling at any responsibilities that stole time away from reading.
Brigid has not had an easy life. She has been an orphan, a midwife and a child bride and now at nearly 40 she is infertile and desperate to be a mother.
She arrives on St Bridget’s Island off the coast of Ireland in the late 1950’s, an island that has always been part of Bridget’s life in the form of bed time stories told by her mother. Fantastical stories about fairies and a magic water well purported to heal the sick and help barren mothers.
Bridget quickly finds out that the the islanders are not very friendly towards outsiders. And in the centre of island life are two sisters.
Rose is beautiful, blessed with love and many children. Emer is her complete opposite and, worse still, she is cursed by the strange currents that run through her fingers. She is fiercely protective of her only son convinced that he will be stolen from her by the fairies.
Emer and Bridget’s sexuality, identity and limits are tested and the story does not allow you to give your sympathy to only one person. No one is just good or bad.
The magical realism was handled expertly and the island itself is beautiful yet dangerous. Both a refuge and a prison with plenty of room for darkness to take hold.
I almost never read the author note at the end of books but this time it was worth it. She expands on the real island that this book is based upon and as an added bonus I learned about the real St Bridget along the way.
Highly recommended for lovers of Irish folklore and magical realism.
Brigid has not had an easy life. She has been an orphan, a midwife and a child bride and now at nearly 40 she is infertile and desperate to be a mother.
She arrives on St Bridget’s Island off the coast of Ireland in the late 1950’s, an island that has always been part of Bridget’s life in the form of bed time stories told by her mother. Fantastical stories about fairies and a magic water well purported to heal the sick and help barren mothers.
Bridget quickly finds out that the the islanders are not very friendly towards outsiders. And in the centre of island life are two sisters.
Rose is beautiful, blessed with love and many children. Emer is her complete opposite and, worse still, she is cursed by the strange currents that run through her fingers. She is fiercely protective of her only son convinced that he will be stolen from her by the fairies.
Emer and Bridget’s sexuality, identity and limits are tested and the story does not allow you to give your sympathy to only one person. No one is just good or bad.
The magical realism was handled expertly and the island itself is beautiful yet dangerous. Both a refuge and a prison with plenty of room for darkness to take hold.
I almost never read the author note at the end of books but this time it was worth it. She expands on the real island that this book is based upon and as an added bonus I learned about the real St Bridget along the way.
Highly recommended for lovers of Irish folklore and magical realism.
March 18, 2018
A novel written of Irish folklore, The Stolen Child is a novel where desire meets fate and love meets betrayal. The synopsis is what intrigued me as I’ve never read a book on Irish myths so I figured this would be a wonderful read to not only enjoy but also learn something from. There is a lot of magical realism here, much of it quite dark and a bit creepy at times. I won’t say that I didn’t enjoy, but it’s not something I would pick up again or really recommend. The story itself was unique and well written so there’s nothing that should keep me from giving it a full five stars and pushing it in all my buddies’ faces. It just wasn’t my thing; there were quite a few quirks of the story that made me cringe and put the book down more than once.
The Stolen Child takes you off the Irish mainland to a small Irish island where the only ones living there are the one’s whose ancestors were there centuries ago. Life is a routine and superstition trails through the town. The women of the island are strong and capable while the men are scarce and often drunk. The island is run over by stories of faeries who steal children and changelings that possess lives. The inhabitants are entangled in each other’s lives and must rely on each other for survival, even if it means turning against their faith.
Emer is a troubled woman of 23 years. She lost one of her eyes to myriad bee stings when she was young and since then she has always carried a gloomy ambiance that has led to her heart to grow hard and still. Her hands are feared and avoided by the town. Her hands, which look just as cracked and aged from work as every other woman on St. Brigid island can bring despair, hopelessness and regret to those she touches. Her hands can penetrate deep and blacken a person’s soul, leaving them numb with pain and sorrow. Not even her own husband can look her in the eye and instead spends most nights hiding out in bars on the mainland. Emer’s only consolation is her seven year old son, Niall. A strange memory of Niall’s childbirth leaves Emer frightened that faeries will one day invade her life and take her son away from her. As a result, Emer is constantly on the lookout for her son, never leaving him out of her sight.
Emer’s twin sister, Rose is hopeful, lovely constantly plump with children, giving birth to twins every few years. She is married to the most handsome, capable man on the island while Emer is married to his much less competent brother. While all of the islands inhabitants duck from Emer’s way and avoid eye contact with her, Rose keeps Emer close, ignoring all the wicked that she seems to bring on everyone she crosses.
When a pretty yank from Maryland walks onto the island one day, the inhabitants are immediately suspicious, the woman all but friends, the men none but friendly. Brigid is the daughter of a woman who disappeared from the island years ago due to magic the town’s people feared were dangerous. Brigid comes to live in her uncle’s old mansion, setting upon a new life where no one knows her past and she finally discover what she has been looking for: a miracle. According to Irish legend, the island has a magical well. The inhabitants, after many years watching people come and go, taking miracles away with them, decide to keep the well a secret. So when Brigid mentions the well, the inhabitants are quick to change the subject or avoid Brigid altogether. Brigid believes if she can find the well that her mom warned her about back when she was a child, she can find a way to make the impossible possible, and bring new life into the world.
There are several flashbacks to Brigid’s life as a child. She grew up in Maryland on an island to a mother who would stay up nights telling her Irish folk stories. She enjoyed sitting by her father’s side close to the lighthouse and watching him paint. A tragedy leaves her without both parents and to a school that will forever change her life. In this school she meets and befriends different girls. She explores her identity and sexuality, and discovers the healing powers of her hands. She soon becomes a midwife working alongside a doctor. They run away every few years to keep themselves from being identified. But when this doctor dies, Brigid is forced to reface her past, acknowledge her desires and allow herself to be led to the island that same island her mother suffered to escape from so long ago.
Brigid arrives on the St Brigid’s island with a mission. However, as her acquaintance with Emer turns into a friendship and soon a sexual relationship, her grasp and self control becomes fragile. Both Brigid and Emer are stubborn characters, both looking for something very different. They find comfort in each other’s weaknesses but ultimately destroy each other in their own self interests. The tension between Emer and Brigid is vivid and strikingly pronounced through the entire narrative. I found their relationship rather confusing and disturbing as both women are playing with the idea of magic to get what they want, Emer as a means of destruction, Brigid as a means of creating life. However, neither one can get what she wants without hurting the other.
The writing style was interesting, alternating a twist of reality and fantasy, mixed with Irish folklore. The storytelling was quite slow and seemed a bit monotone and dreary to me at times. No actual magic really occurs until about three quarters of the way through. As a result, there’s a lot of dialogue and back and forth between Emer and Brigid’s life. The reader only knows about the faeries from the countless allusions to their threat throughout the text. There is really no physical faerie character present in the book at all. The closest we actually get to this sort of magic is Niall, towards the end of the book. I mean if this book is going to call itself fantasy, I think there should be more actual fantasy – faeries, changelings and magic, than just old myths about them told by the characters who claim to have seen them. I did however appreciate the diversity of the book making explorations of sexuality as well speaking to the theme of abuse and gender equality. I think the author could have been more sensitive to these issues, as many scenes can be seen as quite offensive, making some rather explicit statements instead of remaining neutral. I mean, I’m just confused on this because on the one hand the writing was raw and made me feel so much at once, but on the other hand can I also say it was too raw ? The storytelling really had no filter at tall. The unconscious and most gruesome of the characters thoughts, especially Emer came out strong in the story which I found at once thrilling and frightening at the same time. It’s really this strange push and pull between Brigid and Emer that drives the plot. The reader learns about both protagonists’ troubled past and how each become, at least for a short time, a better version of themselves through each other. I liked this bit of the story, answering grief and sadness with love. However towards the end, the story takes a rather evil twist that led to a rather questionable ending, blessing evil and welcoming death. I feel as though, being the dark story that it is, the narration could have been a bit less mundane and repetitive. There were many flashbacks, descriptions and pauses in the narration with not enough suspense or storytelling in the present.
Overall, The Stolen Child takes readers on a dark, mythical journey far away to a remote island where love is not always the answer and good does not always prevail. Wickedly strange and abnormally intriguing I can see what readers mean when they call it a “page turner” as it was for me. But this was not a simple page turner. It was raw to the core and left me feeling exposed and troubled, not really knowing how to react or if I should even be recommending readers to this book. The Stolen Child brings together universes – magical and real – blurring the pages with emotion and mystical language. A truly conversational and debatable read, definitely not reread material for me.
The Stolen Child takes you off the Irish mainland to a small Irish island where the only ones living there are the one’s whose ancestors were there centuries ago. Life is a routine and superstition trails through the town. The women of the island are strong and capable while the men are scarce and often drunk. The island is run over by stories of faeries who steal children and changelings that possess lives. The inhabitants are entangled in each other’s lives and must rely on each other for survival, even if it means turning against their faith.
Emer is a troubled woman of 23 years. She lost one of her eyes to myriad bee stings when she was young and since then she has always carried a gloomy ambiance that has led to her heart to grow hard and still. Her hands are feared and avoided by the town. Her hands, which look just as cracked and aged from work as every other woman on St. Brigid island can bring despair, hopelessness and regret to those she touches. Her hands can penetrate deep and blacken a person’s soul, leaving them numb with pain and sorrow. Not even her own husband can look her in the eye and instead spends most nights hiding out in bars on the mainland. Emer’s only consolation is her seven year old son, Niall. A strange memory of Niall’s childbirth leaves Emer frightened that faeries will one day invade her life and take her son away from her. As a result, Emer is constantly on the lookout for her son, never leaving him out of her sight.
Emer’s twin sister, Rose is hopeful, lovely constantly plump with children, giving birth to twins every few years. She is married to the most handsome, capable man on the island while Emer is married to his much less competent brother. While all of the islands inhabitants duck from Emer’s way and avoid eye contact with her, Rose keeps Emer close, ignoring all the wicked that she seems to bring on everyone she crosses.
When a pretty yank from Maryland walks onto the island one day, the inhabitants are immediately suspicious, the woman all but friends, the men none but friendly. Brigid is the daughter of a woman who disappeared from the island years ago due to magic the town’s people feared were dangerous. Brigid comes to live in her uncle’s old mansion, setting upon a new life where no one knows her past and she finally discover what she has been looking for: a miracle. According to Irish legend, the island has a magical well. The inhabitants, after many years watching people come and go, taking miracles away with them, decide to keep the well a secret. So when Brigid mentions the well, the inhabitants are quick to change the subject or avoid Brigid altogether. Brigid believes if she can find the well that her mom warned her about back when she was a child, she can find a way to make the impossible possible, and bring new life into the world.
There are several flashbacks to Brigid’s life as a child. She grew up in Maryland on an island to a mother who would stay up nights telling her Irish folk stories. She enjoyed sitting by her father’s side close to the lighthouse and watching him paint. A tragedy leaves her without both parents and to a school that will forever change her life. In this school she meets and befriends different girls. She explores her identity and sexuality, and discovers the healing powers of her hands. She soon becomes a midwife working alongside a doctor. They run away every few years to keep themselves from being identified. But when this doctor dies, Brigid is forced to reface her past, acknowledge her desires and allow herself to be led to the island that same island her mother suffered to escape from so long ago.
Brigid arrives on the St Brigid’s island with a mission. However, as her acquaintance with Emer turns into a friendship and soon a sexual relationship, her grasp and self control becomes fragile. Both Brigid and Emer are stubborn characters, both looking for something very different. They find comfort in each other’s weaknesses but ultimately destroy each other in their own self interests. The tension between Emer and Brigid is vivid and strikingly pronounced through the entire narrative. I found their relationship rather confusing and disturbing as both women are playing with the idea of magic to get what they want, Emer as a means of destruction, Brigid as a means of creating life. However, neither one can get what she wants without hurting the other.
The writing style was interesting, alternating a twist of reality and fantasy, mixed with Irish folklore. The storytelling was quite slow and seemed a bit monotone and dreary to me at times. No actual magic really occurs until about three quarters of the way through. As a result, there’s a lot of dialogue and back and forth between Emer and Brigid’s life. The reader only knows about the faeries from the countless allusions to their threat throughout the text. There is really no physical faerie character present in the book at all. The closest we actually get to this sort of magic is Niall, towards the end of the book. I mean if this book is going to call itself fantasy, I think there should be more actual fantasy – faeries, changelings and magic, than just old myths about them told by the characters who claim to have seen them. I did however appreciate the diversity of the book making explorations of sexuality as well speaking to the theme of abuse and gender equality. I think the author could have been more sensitive to these issues, as many scenes can be seen as quite offensive, making some rather explicit statements instead of remaining neutral. I mean, I’m just confused on this because on the one hand the writing was raw and made me feel so much at once, but on the other hand can I also say it was too raw ? The storytelling really had no filter at tall. The unconscious and most gruesome of the characters thoughts, especially Emer came out strong in the story which I found at once thrilling and frightening at the same time. It’s really this strange push and pull between Brigid and Emer that drives the plot. The reader learns about both protagonists’ troubled past and how each become, at least for a short time, a better version of themselves through each other. I liked this bit of the story, answering grief and sadness with love. However towards the end, the story takes a rather evil twist that led to a rather questionable ending, blessing evil and welcoming death. I feel as though, being the dark story that it is, the narration could have been a bit less mundane and repetitive. There were many flashbacks, descriptions and pauses in the narration with not enough suspense or storytelling in the present.
Overall, The Stolen Child takes readers on a dark, mythical journey far away to a remote island where love is not always the answer and good does not always prevail. Wickedly strange and abnormally intriguing I can see what readers mean when they call it a “page turner” as it was for me. But this was not a simple page turner. It was raw to the core and left me feeling exposed and troubled, not really knowing how to react or if I should even be recommending readers to this book. The Stolen Child brings together universes – magical and real – blurring the pages with emotion and mystical language. A truly conversational and debatable read, definitely not reread material for me.
February 5, 2017
There is a striking similarity between anticipation and dread.
I adored this book, and just want to say thanks to Diane for her wonderful review that made me purchase The Stolen Child.
As the author points out in her afterword this is a book about evacuated islands, sisters, witch burning, healers, lighthouses, fairies, saints and lesbianism. The whole is more than it's parts, these elements combined to create something truly magical and unique. The two main characters, Emer and Brigid, are so genuine that I sometimes hated Emer so much I wanted to slap her,and in the next paragraph my heart would be breaking for her again. The setting, a small little island just of the coast of Ireland, was painted so vividly that you could see it clearly. I loved learning about the evacuation of some of these islands, as well as the legend of st Brigid of Ireland . I enjoyed the fairy-tales throughout, but be warned this is a dark book - do not expect your normal brand of light and fluffy magical realism. Both the fairy-tales and the real life happenings are quite often bleak. This is an otherworldly tale about desperate, needy love and how we can choose if we will allow it to embitter us or not. My only criticism is that I wished it ended differently, I would have preferred a more open-ended conclusion, but I loved the rest too much to deduct any stars for that. I will definitely be reading more by this author.
abandoned-not-for-me
July 18, 2017Too dark for me , but the writing is very good .
February 27, 2017
Because I once lived on the western coast of Ireland, and because author Lisa Cary moved to the island of Inishbofin, off Ireland's west coast to research her first book, I've been following her career for many years. I've loved each of her four Irish themed novels, and eagerly awaited the February 7th release of her latest, The Stolen Child. It is a story much like Ireland herself: deceptive in its riddled nuances, more than the sum of its parts. The soul of the story creeps up on you. It takes patience and willingness to allow the magic to take hold, and when it does, it is not by possession. The Stolen Child spins the kind of magic that lulls at the core of your being; affects your consciousness, waits for you to piece it together until you understand. There is little overt in this languid novel, which, again, is much like Ireland. It is a desperate story through and through, yet in the hands of author Lisa Carey, it resonates with mythical beauty, gives you a sense of timelessness, and holds you fast by its earthy, brass tacks.
In pitch-perfect language, Carey wields dialogue specific to the west coast of Ireland’s desolate environs. It is an understated language, upside down to outsiders, but once your ear attunes, you are affronted by the superfluousness of other tongues. All primary characters in The Stolen Child are women. They live cut-off from the mainland of Ireland’s west coast, twelve miles out, upon rocky, wind-swept, St. Brigid’s Island, during the one year time frame of May, 1959 to May, 1960. It is a timeframe fraught with the looming inevitability of the islanders’ evacuation from their homeland, with its generational customs and ties, to the stark reality of life on the mainland, with its glaring and soulless “mod-cons.” Most of the characters are conflicted about leaving the island, save for the sinister Emer, who has her own selfish agenda, centered upon her only child Niall. Her sister, Rose, is the sunny, earth-mother, unflappable sort, who only sees the buried good in Emer, whereas everyone one else on the island shuns her, for her malefic, dark ways, which they intuit as dark art. Emer has one foot on the island and the other in the recesses of the fairies’ manipulative underworld. It is the American “blow-in,” Brigid, the woman with a complicated past, who has her own ties to the island from her banished mother, that cracks the carapace of Emer’s guarded and angry countenance. Together, the pair explore an illicit relationship, but when it snaps back, Emer retaliates with a force that effects the entire island and twists her worst fears into fate.
The Stolen Child is magnificently crafted, for it is a sweeping story set on a cloistered island, which has nothing to recommend it save for its quays, its view, and its eponymous holy-well. This is a novel rife with character study that is quintessentially Irish, yet applicable far afield. In themes of motherhood, hope, desperation, and hopelessness, the characters take what little they have and wrestle it into making do. It is the power of steel intention that drives this story, and the reader receives it from all conceivable angles. I recommend The Stolen Child to all who love Ireland, to all who love an exceptional, creative story, and to all who love language used at its finest. All praise to the author Lisa Carey. I eagerly await the next book.
In pitch-perfect language, Carey wields dialogue specific to the west coast of Ireland’s desolate environs. It is an understated language, upside down to outsiders, but once your ear attunes, you are affronted by the superfluousness of other tongues. All primary characters in The Stolen Child are women. They live cut-off from the mainland of Ireland’s west coast, twelve miles out, upon rocky, wind-swept, St. Brigid’s Island, during the one year time frame of May, 1959 to May, 1960. It is a timeframe fraught with the looming inevitability of the islanders’ evacuation from their homeland, with its generational customs and ties, to the stark reality of life on the mainland, with its glaring and soulless “mod-cons.” Most of the characters are conflicted about leaving the island, save for the sinister Emer, who has her own selfish agenda, centered upon her only child Niall. Her sister, Rose, is the sunny, earth-mother, unflappable sort, who only sees the buried good in Emer, whereas everyone one else on the island shuns her, for her malefic, dark ways, which they intuit as dark art. Emer has one foot on the island and the other in the recesses of the fairies’ manipulative underworld. It is the American “blow-in,” Brigid, the woman with a complicated past, who has her own ties to the island from her banished mother, that cracks the carapace of Emer’s guarded and angry countenance. Together, the pair explore an illicit relationship, but when it snaps back, Emer retaliates with a force that effects the entire island and twists her worst fears into fate.
The Stolen Child is magnificently crafted, for it is a sweeping story set on a cloistered island, which has nothing to recommend it save for its quays, its view, and its eponymous holy-well. This is a novel rife with character study that is quintessentially Irish, yet applicable far afield. In themes of motherhood, hope, desperation, and hopelessness, the characters take what little they have and wrestle it into making do. It is the power of steel intention that drives this story, and the reader receives it from all conceivable angles. I recommend The Stolen Child to all who love Ireland, to all who love an exceptional, creative story, and to all who love language used at its finest. All praise to the author Lisa Carey. I eagerly await the next book.
February 7, 2017
3.5 stars Another very good read. Irish folklore, changelings, fairies, St. Brigid. The women left on the island of St. Brigid are being evacuated - all their men have perished to the sea - and they are being moved to government housing on the mainland. We then go back in time to hear the legends of the island, children that are taken by the fairies or other ones. Brigid, the American, returns to the island in hope for healing from the special well - her history is one steeped in mystery about the other ones taking her mother, being replaced by a changeling, she has special healing powers in her hands. Emer is also one that was partially taken and is an unhappy, bitter woman anxious to get off the island so they don't take her beloved son.
Brigid's history and her reason for returning to the island was a very interesting part. Emer's history as well was good to read. It starts to drag, or become too long/slightly repetitive towards the middle to the end. But overall, a very good read. Carey's writing is like butter.
I can actually fit this into the Litsy Reading Challenge for the square "With an LGBTQ relationship", so that's a bonus!
Brigid's history and her reason for returning to the island was a very interesting part. Emer's history as well was good to read. It starts to drag, or become too long/slightly repetitive towards the middle to the end. But overall, a very good read. Carey's writing is like butter.
I can actually fit this into the Litsy Reading Challenge for the square "With an LGBTQ relationship", so that's a bonus!
March 9, 2017
I started off being unable to put this book down. Then somewhere along the line I was almost unable to pick it back up. I love Lisa Carey and have read The Mermaids Singing more than I can count, but this book will not be a reread for me. Dragged on too long.
December 29, 2016
I didn't think magical realism was my thing. Maybe it's still not my thing. But Lisa Carey can fuckin' write. And if I'd turned a page to find dragons, I'd have devoured it all the same.
She's woven this story of a magical, miserable Irish isle inhabited by a a hardy few who refuse to leave, even with the promise of free houses with running water and electricity. Their tight-knit community of hysteria, superstition, and grief is full of characters she's treated with such empathy, such understanding, they were real. And they're blessed and plagued by fairies I began to believe might just be as real. Their quiet, desperate world is invaded by an American woman with her own secrets.
I didn't read this book as much as I felt it. Same feeling I got when I read Emma Donoghue's The Wonder. I didn't know what was real. And I didn't care. I felt it.
She's woven this story of a magical, miserable Irish isle inhabited by a a hardy few who refuse to leave, even with the promise of free houses with running water and electricity. Their tight-knit community of hysteria, superstition, and grief is full of characters she's treated with such empathy, such understanding, they were real. And they're blessed and plagued by fairies I began to believe might just be as real. Their quiet, desperate world is invaded by an American woman with her own secrets.
I didn't read this book as much as I felt it. Same feeling I got when I read Emma Donoghue's The Wonder. I didn't know what was real. And I didn't care. I felt it.
August 29, 2021
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For the most part, I really loved reading The Stolen Child. Carey's writing is a real treat to read, and I was intrigued by the story from the very beginning. However, as much as I enjoyed it, I was equally very irritated by certain parts of it. No matter my reaction, negative or not, I did feel passionate about this book, so for that reason alone, I would recommend it.
The Stolen Child is set in a remote fictional island, just off the Irish coast, during the late 1950s. Drawing on Irish folklore and mythology, the author deftly places a narrative of magical realism against a domestic backdrop. Carey has crafted an eerie tale in which the setting and supernatural elements allow her to explore the extremity of human behaviour away from the 'modern' and 'civilized' world. The book delves into the dangers and powers of superstition while also addressing themes such as motherhood, friendship and rivalry. Carey easily shifts between domestic mundanity and a more magical reality while also depicting the ambiguity of a community torn between two worlds.
Like their island, the residents of St. Brigid, a saint that is both pagan and christian, have clashing beliefs: they believe both in the existence of fairies and a christian God. They are a traditional people who do not mind being cut-off from the rest of civilization. However, when storms and accidents the populations dwindles. So much so that the last few inhabitants of St. Brigid have been promised new council houses on the mainland. Not all are eager to leave the island behind. Twins Emer and Rose – married to two brothers – have opposing views. Emer, feared by others for the strange gift she possesses, desperately wants to leave because she fears that her young son, Niall, will be taken by the faeries. Rose, on the other hand, would happily raise her children on the island. Tensions arise further with the arrival of an American, a woman named Brigid, who has inherited a house on St. Brigid, and is seeking a well rumored to cure any illness. The islanders, who are a secluded people, do not welcome her foreign ways. That is with the exception of Emer. Emer, an outcast herself, is intrigued by Brigid, especially since she suspects that the newcomer may possess powers of her own.
The Stolen Child is an emotionally torrid book in which lies a seam of violence which was often unnecessary. In fact, one couldn’t help but to feel a sense of foreboding while reading this novel. There is a constant sense of dread that is emphasized by the unease between the two protagonist. Carey centers her story centres on two equally unlikable characters and putting Emer's gratuitous cruelty against Brigid's conceitedness. Much of the story revolves around the relationship between these two women. While they both possess ties to the faery people of St. Brigid, they do not share the same ideals, and that is what makes their relationship so tense. This may could deter some readers, given that many will undoubtedly find Brigid to be cruel and vainglorious despite the author's attempt to make her seem like a kind of ideal feminist 'hero'.
Carey plays around with different concepts by linking fairies and magic with lust, rape, pleasure and power. The author’s lyrical style matches the story’s atmospheric setting and alluring storyline. Using a poetical and sensual voice Carey has created a tale imbued with myths and old lore. The constant sense of anguish however detracts from the overall enjoyment of the novel. Also, it was impossible to gloss over the fact that all of the characters, especially Brigid and Emer, are –for the most part– incredibly infuriating. The Stolen Child uses a melodic prose to tell an enticing mystery that explores the nature of fear, love and authority but also suffers from a story populated by unsavoury characters. Towards the end, the plot loses its initial spark, and by then I had grown tired of the two detestable main characters, so, despite loving Carey's writing, I think that The Stolen Child would have benefited from a more conclusive plot. Last but not least, I didn't always like the way in which the author handled certain things; that is to say that I couldn't tell wherever she actually approved of how some of her characters behaved or not.
Anyway, I'm looking forward to read Carey again.
For the most part, I really loved reading The Stolen Child. Carey's writing is a real treat to read, and I was intrigued by the story from the very beginning. However, as much as I enjoyed it, I was equally very irritated by certain parts of it. No matter my reaction, negative or not, I did feel passionate about this book, so for that reason alone, I would recommend it.
The Stolen Child is set in a remote fictional island, just off the Irish coast, during the late 1950s. Drawing on Irish folklore and mythology, the author deftly places a narrative of magical realism against a domestic backdrop. Carey has crafted an eerie tale in which the setting and supernatural elements allow her to explore the extremity of human behaviour away from the 'modern' and 'civilized' world. The book delves into the dangers and powers of superstition while also addressing themes such as motherhood, friendship and rivalry. Carey easily shifts between domestic mundanity and a more magical reality while also depicting the ambiguity of a community torn between two worlds.
Like their island, the residents of St. Brigid, a saint that is both pagan and christian, have clashing beliefs: they believe both in the existence of fairies and a christian God. They are a traditional people who do not mind being cut-off from the rest of civilization. However, when storms and accidents the populations dwindles. So much so that the last few inhabitants of St. Brigid have been promised new council houses on the mainland. Not all are eager to leave the island behind. Twins Emer and Rose – married to two brothers – have opposing views. Emer, feared by others for the strange gift she possesses, desperately wants to leave because she fears that her young son, Niall, will be taken by the faeries. Rose, on the other hand, would happily raise her children on the island. Tensions arise further with the arrival of an American, a woman named Brigid, who has inherited a house on St. Brigid, and is seeking a well rumored to cure any illness. The islanders, who are a secluded people, do not welcome her foreign ways. That is with the exception of Emer. Emer, an outcast herself, is intrigued by Brigid, especially since she suspects that the newcomer may possess powers of her own.
The Stolen Child is an emotionally torrid book in which lies a seam of violence which was often unnecessary. In fact, one couldn’t help but to feel a sense of foreboding while reading this novel. There is a constant sense of dread that is emphasized by the unease between the two protagonist. Carey centers her story centres on two equally unlikable characters and putting Emer's gratuitous cruelty against Brigid's conceitedness. Much of the story revolves around the relationship between these two women. While they both possess ties to the faery people of St. Brigid, they do not share the same ideals, and that is what makes their relationship so tense. This may could deter some readers, given that many will undoubtedly find Brigid to be cruel and vainglorious despite the author's attempt to make her seem like a kind of ideal feminist 'hero'.
Carey plays around with different concepts by linking fairies and magic with lust, rape, pleasure and power. The author’s lyrical style matches the story’s atmospheric setting and alluring storyline. Using a poetical and sensual voice Carey has created a tale imbued with myths and old lore. The constant sense of anguish however detracts from the overall enjoyment of the novel. Also, it was impossible to gloss over the fact that all of the characters, especially Brigid and Emer, are –for the most part– incredibly infuriating. The Stolen Child uses a melodic prose to tell an enticing mystery that explores the nature of fear, love and authority but also suffers from a story populated by unsavoury characters. Towards the end, the plot loses its initial spark, and by then I had grown tired of the two detestable main characters, so, despite loving Carey's writing, I think that The Stolen Child would have benefited from a more conclusive plot. Last but not least, I didn't always like the way in which the author handled certain things; that is to say that I couldn't tell wherever she actually approved of how some of her characters behaved or not.
Anyway, I'm looking forward to read Carey again.
September 14, 2021
2.5 stars. This one caught my eye because the cover reminded me so much of Ireland (because it is. Neato.) While I enjoyed the premise of the book and the author’s obvious talent for writing, a few things kept this from being an entirely awesome reading experience:
1. Everything was sexual. Everythingggg. Sometimes it feels like authors think they must reference sex as much as possible in order to be truly literary. Call me a prude, but I’d have liked this book a lot better without the weird sexual healings, rape, pedophilia, abusive sexual relationships, etc. The thing that really got me was Brigid’s marrying a 30 year old when she was like 14, and the author presenting it like a consensual and innocent relationship. I say, put that guy in prison! Lock him up! Lock him up! (All together now!) Lock him up...
2. The use of the present tense was clunky and just didn’t seem natural. Present tense works in first-person, action-packed books, like the Hunger Games, but much less so in third-person, meandering, slow-moving books like this one right here.
3. The ending. So weird. I mean, the whole book is weird, but that was another level. Here’s hoping they gave that kid a bath!
4. While I really liked reading about Emer, Brigid was somewhat insufferable, thinking all about herself and assuming everyone on planet earth wants to have sex with her, and basking in her own power and letting other people suffer the consequences. A real piece of work, if you ask me. Also, her relationship with Emer almost felt predatory, but maybe that’s just me??
I did enjoy the suspense near the end of the book, and the premise is really creative. But overall, it was a mixed bag of Bertie Bott’s Beans for me, with just enough peach flavors to help me swallow the barf ones.
1. Everything was sexual. Everythingggg. Sometimes it feels like authors think they must reference sex as much as possible in order to be truly literary. Call me a prude, but I’d have liked this book a lot better without the weird sexual healings, rape, pedophilia, abusive sexual relationships, etc. The thing that really got me was Brigid’s marrying a 30 year old when she was like 14, and the author presenting it like a consensual and innocent relationship. I say, put that guy in prison! Lock him up! Lock him up! (All together now!) Lock him up...
2. The use of the present tense was clunky and just didn’t seem natural. Present tense works in first-person, action-packed books, like the Hunger Games, but much less so in third-person, meandering, slow-moving books like this one right here.
3. The ending. So weird. I mean, the whole book is weird, but that was another level. Here’s hoping they gave that kid a bath!
4. While I really liked reading about Emer, Brigid was somewhat insufferable, thinking all about herself and assuming everyone on planet earth wants to have sex with her, and basking in her own power and letting other people suffer the consequences. A real piece of work, if you ask me. Also, her relationship with Emer almost felt predatory, but maybe that’s just me??
I did enjoy the suspense near the end of the book, and the premise is really creative. But overall, it was a mixed bag of Bertie Bott’s Beans for me, with just enough peach flavors to help me swallow the barf ones.
February 19, 2021
If Ireland ever vanishes, open this book to summon it all back. A rocky island community weathers the worst times of two twenty-something sisters, one sunny, the other damaged, tetched and morose. So morose that her mere touch sucks all joy and hope from any neighbor hapless enough to let her come close enough for touching in the first place.
This is Emer, curst and cursing in 1959, redeemed only by her young, optimistic (but also lightly fairy-tetched) son Niall, and her boundlessly loyal and protective sister, Rose. Everyone on the island loves Rose. No one aside from Rose and Niall loves Emer.
Add to the mix casually unfaithful husbands, bonfires, hard work at sea, waters blessed by saints both pagan and holy, an inadvisable
pet pig, Gaelic tunes, angry bees, gossiping neighbors, AND the arrival of Brigid, the single surviving descendant of the witchiest family of the island. And wouldn't you know she'd turns out to be capable, American, and indispensibly blessed with healing hands. She's more than a match for Emer.
It's a credit to Carey's sheer talent that none of this emerges as twee. Instead, we come to understand the characters and we fear for them: their environment is menacing on every level.
I'm oversimplifying this gorgeously written tale that is at once modern(ish); steeped in folklore; and gently, ironically comic in the grand tradition of Irish storytelling. Read it; you won't be disappointed.
12.57 hrs 157 w/m
This is Emer, curst and cursing in 1959, redeemed only by her young, optimistic (but also lightly fairy-tetched) son Niall, and her boundlessly loyal and protective sister, Rose. Everyone on the island loves Rose. No one aside from Rose and Niall loves Emer.
Add to the mix casually unfaithful husbands, bonfires, hard work at sea, waters blessed by saints both pagan and holy, an inadvisable
pet pig, Gaelic tunes, angry bees, gossiping neighbors, AND the arrival of Brigid, the single surviving descendant of the witchiest family of the island. And wouldn't you know she'd turns out to be capable, American, and indispensibly blessed with healing hands. She's more than a match for Emer.
It's a credit to Carey's sheer talent that none of this emerges as twee. Instead, we come to understand the characters and we fear for them: their environment is menacing on every level.
I'm oversimplifying this gorgeously written tale that is at once modern(ish); steeped in folklore; and gently, ironically comic in the grand tradition of Irish storytelling. Read it; you won't be disappointed.
12.57 hrs 157 w/m
December 1, 2016
I remember when I found Lisa Carey's "The Mermaids Singing" at a small used bookstore in my hometown...I devoured that book so quickly and loved it so much. This book was like that.
I loved the magical realism that surrounds this island, a hard place to live in any time. I also loved the strong female characters, and they way they bond in anyway they can. Emer is especially an intriguing character, and don't get me started on Brigid. Overall, I loved this book, couldn't put it down.
Thanks to Harper Collins and Edelweiss for the ARC!
I loved the magical realism that surrounds this island, a hard place to live in any time. I also loved the strong female characters, and they way they bond in anyway they can. Emer is especially an intriguing character, and don't get me started on Brigid. Overall, I loved this book, couldn't put it down.
Thanks to Harper Collins and Edelweiss for the ARC!
December 13, 2016
I would like to thank Edelweiss, Harper Collins, and Lisa Carey for the advanced digital copy in exchange for an honest review. This Irish tale is a true mind-bending genre. It is part magical realism, fantasy, folk lore, bi-sexuality, and literary fiction. It's late 1950's on St. Brigid Isle, Ireland where the utmost remote villagers reside discussing stories of a magic well and fairies while sitting around their hearths. This story has the likeness to Emma Donahue's recent release, The Wonder. A true conversational read.
April 2, 2017
REVIEW ON THE BLOG: http://adayinbookland.blogspot.com.es...
The Stolen Child transports us to St. Brigid’s, a remote island off the west coast of Ireland. Its inhabitants, mostly women, live as if they are in the past although the book is set between 1930 and 1960 – the story goes back and forth all the time. For me, it felt as if the story was set in the 18th century rather than the 20th and it creates and interesting atmosphere within the novel.
We follow the stories of Brigid, an American who arrives at the island with a very clear purpose; Rose, a lovely woman everybody loves; Emer, Rose’s twin sister, who is nothing like her sister and Niall, Emer’s son, who she believes will be claimed by the good people, the fairies. Most people on the island mistrust Brigid when she arrives but soon enough, Emer becomes a friend. Both find comfort in one another but Brigid’s “mission” might destroy everything. I found Brigid’s and Emer’s friendship to be both fascinating and frustrating at the same time because although they understand what each other needs, they are also selfish and it builds up a tension that goes throughout the entire narrative.
However, my favourite character was Niall. He’s a very sweet child and loves her mother very much but he also is suffocated by her. Emer is obsessed about the fairies stealing his child and overprotects him. Her fear is understandable but perverse at the same time and I couldn’t but feel sorry for both of them.
All in all, this was a very interesting read. It fluctuates between reality, folklore and superstition and shows how our actions can be influenced by them. The Stolen Child is a magical and engaging book and I recommend it especially if you like books set in remote places and how that remoteness affects people.
The Stolen Child transports us to St. Brigid’s, a remote island off the west coast of Ireland. Its inhabitants, mostly women, live as if they are in the past although the book is set between 1930 and 1960 – the story goes back and forth all the time. For me, it felt as if the story was set in the 18th century rather than the 20th and it creates and interesting atmosphere within the novel.
We follow the stories of Brigid, an American who arrives at the island with a very clear purpose; Rose, a lovely woman everybody loves; Emer, Rose’s twin sister, who is nothing like her sister and Niall, Emer’s son, who she believes will be claimed by the good people, the fairies. Most people on the island mistrust Brigid when she arrives but soon enough, Emer becomes a friend. Both find comfort in one another but Brigid’s “mission” might destroy everything. I found Brigid’s and Emer’s friendship to be both fascinating and frustrating at the same time because although they understand what each other needs, they are also selfish and it builds up a tension that goes throughout the entire narrative.
However, my favourite character was Niall. He’s a very sweet child and loves her mother very much but he also is suffocated by her. Emer is obsessed about the fairies stealing his child and overprotects him. Her fear is understandable but perverse at the same time and I couldn’t but feel sorry for both of them.
All in all, this was a very interesting read. It fluctuates between reality, folklore and superstition and shows how our actions can be influenced by them. The Stolen Child is a magical and engaging book and I recommend it especially if you like books set in remote places and how that remoteness affects people.
September 13, 2020
I really enjoyed this story, and it was a lot steamier than I expected it to be! The way I could tell that Lisa Carey is American (who spent 5 years on Inishbofin) rather than Irish is that she laid on the folklore slightly thick - every single scene had a tie to a folk belief. I enjoyed the inner thoughts of Emer and Bridget, but I'd like to know Rose's perspective a little better since she was too good to be true. I will return to this book for its bee myths and its changeling stories.
December 7, 2024
Lai arī The Stolen Child prologs jau priekšā pasaka ar kādu notikumu tiks noslēgta grāmata, tad tās pamatstāstā tiek apspēlēta mātes tematika no dažādiem rakursiem gan, kad 39 gadu vecumā bezbērnu varonei Brigid vēl tāda nav, gan Roze, kurai, katru reizi paliekot stāvoklī, dzimst dvīņu meitenes, gan Rozes dvīne Emer, kurai tās vienīgais 6 gadus vecais dēls ir kā acuraugs, kuru neizlaist no acīm.
https://poseidons99.com/2024/12/07/li...
https://poseidons99.com/2024/12/07/li...
December 31, 2016
I received this book from the LibraryThings early reviewers and Harper Collins. I did not have any idea what I was getting into when I requested this book it just sounded intriguing. I read this book every chance I got in the 3 day holiday. When I finished it last night I just had no words. It consumed me, I felt this book. It left me questioning and stretched me to places I have never gone. Before trying to write my review of the book I had to read what others wrote because it was just so different from anything I have read before. I did not know how to categorize it but KC on Goodreads summed it up best "This Irish tale is a true mind-bending genre. It is part magical realism, fantasy, folk lore, bi-sexuality, and literary fiction." Kirsten Griffith, also on Goodreads summed up the writing better than I could "This book is exquisite. Beautifully written, excellent character development, and you really feel like part of the island as you read". This book is not for everyone and I suspect there are many who would be offended by some of the subject matter but Lisa Carey undoubtedly can weave a tale and pull you deep into it, or maybe it was the fairies...
May 28, 2017
Lyrical, filled with magical realism, engaging, strong, angry women and a lovingly detailed setting, based on the island of Inishbofin (which I visited 25 years ago myself and which I used briefly in my novel ISLAND JUSTICE) all make this a story that kept me interested. I'm only disappointed by the ending which made me feel as if the author wasn't sure how to get out of her story, a common dilemma for us fiction writers.
December 13, 2016
Okay, but just not my cup of tea. Irish women with magical healing hands and a history of abuse.
April 29, 2021
This was a JOURNEY. I enjoyed the mystical, magical, otherworld elements, and the blurred line between myth and reality. The story and characters definitely kept my interest and I was constantly wondering where the story was going (not in a bewildered WTF way but in a genuinely curious way). I think I’d definitely read more by Carey.
July 9, 2017
The Stolen Child by lisa Carey.
St brigids is a remote island of the West coast of Ireland. It is a barren place and it's small community is dwindling. But according to rumour it is a magical place, home to a healing well.
This was a lovely feel good read with good characters. Wow. The ending. 5*. Tbc on fb.
St brigids is a remote island of the West coast of Ireland. It is a barren place and it's small community is dwindling. But according to rumour it is a magical place, home to a healing well.
This was a lovely feel good read with good characters. Wow. The ending. 5*. Tbc on fb.
March 9, 2017
What a beautiful read. Set on an island off the Irish coast in 1959 it tells the story of twins Rose and Emer. Rose is happy and sunny while Emer is miserable and never sees good in anybody. Into their world comes Bridgid looking for a miracle cure for her barren state. She's been told that a holy well exists on the island that can help her.Even though the islanders are staunchly catholic the old pagan rites and customs still exist here. Beautifully and lyrically written.
July 3, 2017
I loved, hated and feared this story as I rode its murky waves. Loved it's bright days and touches of magic, feared them too, knowing they would be taken away and twisted, for they were-often-and I hated how raw and vulnerable it made me feel, how uncomfortable in my own skin. Like Emer. Perhaps the most simultaneously sympathetic and disagreeable character I've ever read.
Some moments I was her, her longing for fairy lands an echo of my own childish longings, and likewise her strangling fear as a mother who fought desperately for a child I am lucky to have. So terrified of losing him it suffocates.
For this reason, and because I'm a brash American living in a foreign land with smoother edges, I could also relate to Brigid, the other key character, not that each character isn't vital to the pulsing life of the story. Brigid shares her name with a saint, a witch and a goddess and she plays all these roles, as well as that of common woman with a common name. Her life is bleak as Emer's in its way, but full of so much hope rather than despair and fear.
It is their hopes and fears, Brigid's and Emer's, that drive the story. Like all Lisa Carey's stories this one was hauntingly melancholy. There is a song beneath its surface, like distant fairy music or the buzzing of bees, mingled with the sweetest, most poignant notes. I can't help describing beautiful prose like music and The Stolen Child is a symphony. Expertly crafted and written, its beautiful phrases and vivid descriptions making the world achingly real but never tearing you away from the story carrying you like the current--the sea aiming you for jagged rocks you want to avoid, for the pain is as real to you as those vivid images.
The magic saves it, for just as you fear there is no magic, only madness, hints of it arise as irrefutable as those looming rocks of despair. If I'm to slip back into mundane reviewer language: this book is magical realism at its best. For any who love true fairy stories, the torture of promise and terror, light and dark, curse or boon...that the fair folk offer, you will love this!
I have never regretted reading a Lisa Carey novel for the haunting music never fades from your soul, even if the details do. One warning: do not turn back! Read to the end, no matter how painful, and you will not be disappointed in the journey. Like all great endings it is inevitable and surprising.
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Some moments I was her, her longing for fairy lands an echo of my own childish longings, and likewise her strangling fear as a mother who fought desperately for a child I am lucky to have. So terrified of losing him it suffocates.
For this reason, and because I'm a brash American living in a foreign land with smoother edges, I could also relate to Brigid, the other key character, not that each character isn't vital to the pulsing life of the story. Brigid shares her name with a saint, a witch and a goddess and she plays all these roles, as well as that of common woman with a common name. Her life is bleak as Emer's in its way, but full of so much hope rather than despair and fear.
It is their hopes and fears, Brigid's and Emer's, that drive the story. Like all Lisa Carey's stories this one was hauntingly melancholy. There is a song beneath its surface, like distant fairy music or the buzzing of bees, mingled with the sweetest, most poignant notes. I can't help describing beautiful prose like music and The Stolen Child is a symphony. Expertly crafted and written, its beautiful phrases and vivid descriptions making the world achingly real but never tearing you away from the story carrying you like the current--the sea aiming you for jagged rocks you want to avoid, for the pain is as real to you as those vivid images.
The magic saves it, for just as you fear there is no magic, only madness, hints of it arise as irrefutable as those looming rocks of despair. If I'm to slip back into mundane reviewer language: this book is magical realism at its best. For any who love true fairy stories, the torture of promise and terror, light and dark, curse or boon...that the fair folk offer, you will love this!
I have never regretted reading a Lisa Carey novel for the haunting music never fades from your soul, even if the details do. One warning: do not turn back! Read to the end, no matter how painful, and you will not be disappointed in the journey. Like all great endings it is inevitable and surprising.
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March 21, 2017
The Stolen Child is a heartbreaking and mysterious novel set on a remote island off the west coat of Ireland. It is about two very different sisters, Emer and Rose, who are part of the dwindling community on the island, and how their lives are affected when an American stranger, Brigid, comes to live amongst them. The narrative is difficult to adequately summarise, a epic set over just a year between 1959 and 1960, but it broadly follows what happens to make the community finally make the move to the mainland. The novel is focused primarily upon the characters, particularly Emer and her relationship with Brigid, and the world, religious, magical, and remote, in which they live.
There is a captivating element of the novel, with Carey positioning it and its events in a world where sidhe magic and religious miracles seem equally plausible, where blame, regret, and love are all complicated by the island setting, by magic, and by the belief in powers greater than humans. At the same time, The Stolen Child focuses a lot on the human and physical, on childbirth and desire, on physical isolation and the power of nature, but also on physical powers enhanced by unknown forces. This gives it a unique quality, a novel which both addresses very real emotions and difficulties whilst creating a world with rules perhaps beyond our own. The prose bolsters this world through detailed description and a straightforward yet somehow mystical tone and the use of Yeats quotes (and title) adds to the poetic feel of the novel.
The Stolen Child is the kind of novel that brings a whole minuscule universe into existence and then sets the reader within it. One for anyone who likes novels full of emotion, an undercurrent of belief, and characters caught in a savage and remote world.
There is a captivating element of the novel, with Carey positioning it and its events in a world where sidhe magic and religious miracles seem equally plausible, where blame, regret, and love are all complicated by the island setting, by magic, and by the belief in powers greater than humans. At the same time, The Stolen Child focuses a lot on the human and physical, on childbirth and desire, on physical isolation and the power of nature, but also on physical powers enhanced by unknown forces. This gives it a unique quality, a novel which both addresses very real emotions and difficulties whilst creating a world with rules perhaps beyond our own. The prose bolsters this world through detailed description and a straightforward yet somehow mystical tone and the use of Yeats quotes (and title) adds to the poetic feel of the novel.
The Stolen Child is the kind of novel that brings a whole minuscule universe into existence and then sets the reader within it. One for anyone who likes novels full of emotion, an undercurrent of belief, and characters caught in a savage and remote world.
March 26, 2017
Wonderful
Magical, heartrending, mystical. I could not put this book down. And while I am still not at all sure of the ending, it is part of the Irish folklore that drives the story
Magical, heartrending, mystical. I could not put this book down. And while I am still not at all sure of the ending, it is part of the Irish folklore that drives the story
August 25, 2018
Love, lust, legends, folklore, saints and powerful women on a tiny Irish island in the late 1950s, I’ve been away with the fairies this week and loving it week courtesy of Lisa Carey’s 2016 novel, The Stolen Child. At centre of the story is Emer, a fascinatingly awkward and flawed woman who dreams of being abducted by ‘the little people’ until her son, Niall is born – then she dreams of escaping the island to prevent him being taken instead. When ‘the Yank’ Brigid arrives and moves into the home her family occupied years previously, Emer and Niall are tremendously drawn to her, which essentially seals their fate. The Stolen Child sizzles emotionally and, if it’s a fairy-tale, it’s an adult only one with some violent scenes. The story though, captivated me. Emer, her sister, good-natured Rose, their mother, and Niall were convincing characters. Brigid however, seemed to some how fall off the pages in the final quarter of the story and was less real to me that the others, which is a pity. But Carey’s ear for the Irish dialogue and her descriptions of the place are masterful. If you like the idea of being teleported to another time and place, and enjoy a good yarn, The Stolen Child is a supernatural treat.
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