What do you think?
Rate this book
Neve nera
Irlanda, 1945. Dopo aver lavorato per anni a New York come operaio, Barnabas Kane torna in Donegal con la famiglia per iniziare una nuova vita nella sua terra d'origine. Ma quando alla fattoria scoppia un incendio e Matthew Peoples, il suo bracciante, si getta tra le fiamme per provare a salvare il bestiame, Barnabas perde ogni cosa: un amico, la stalla e gli animali su cui aveva investito tutti i risparmi. Deciso a resistere, non gli rimane che chiedere aiuto alla comunità di Carnarvan; ma la gente del posto – rancorosa e "infarcita di superstizioni" – si rivela diffidente nei confronti dell'ultimo arrivato, che ha vissuto così a lungo lontano da casa da essere considerato uno straniero. E mentre Barnabas, facendo leva sul suo "ingegno perverso", tenta disperatamente di sopravvivere, il figlio si ritrova a fare i conti con un terribile segreto e la moglie è annientata dalle incertezze sul futuro. "Neve nera" è un romanzo crudo e implacabile, in puro stile Lynch, in cui il paesaggio, spesso lirico, sempre affascinante, funge da sfondo ideale per una storia che indaga la natura più oscura dell'uomo.
272 pages, Paperback
First published March 6, 2014
151 people are currently reading
2878 people want to read
About the author
Paul Lynch
5 books1,357 followersPaul Lynch is the internationally-acclaimed, prize-winning author of five novels: PROPHET SONG, BEYOND THE SEA, GRACE, THE BLACK SNOW and RED SKY IN MORNING, and the winner of the Kerry Group Irish Novel of the Year 2018, among other prizes.
His debut novel RED SKY IN MORNING was published to critical acclaim on both sides of the Atlantic in 2013. It was a finalist for France’s Prix du Meilleur Livre Étranger (Best Foreign Book Prize) and was nominated for the Prix du Premier Roman (First Novel Prize). In the US, it was an Amazon.com Book of the Month and was featured on NPR’s All Things Considered, where Lynch was hailed as “a lapidary young master”. It was a book of the year in The Irish Times, The Toronto Star, the Irish Independent and the Sunday Business Post.
THE BLACK SNOW (2014) was an Amazon.com Book of the Month. In France it won the French booksellers’ prize Prix Libr’à Nous for Best Foreign Novel and the inaugural Prix des Lecteurs Privat. It was nominated for the Prix Femina and the Prix du Roman Fnac (Fnac Novel Prize). It was hailed as “masterful” by The Sunday Times, “fierce and stunning” by The Toronto Star and featured on NPR’s All Things Considered where Alan Cheuse said that Lynch’s writing was found “somewhere between that of Nobel poet Seamus Heaney and Cormac McCarthy”.
GRACE was published in 2017 to massive international acclaim. The Washington Post called the book, “a moving work of lyrical and at times hallucinatory beauty… that reads like a hybrid of John Steinbeck’s ‘The Grapes of Wrath’ and Cormac McCarthy’s ‘The Road'”. It won the Kerry Group Irish Novel of the Year and was shortlisted for the Walter Scott Prize and the William Saroyan International Prize. In France it was shortlisted for the Prix Jean Monnet for European Literature, among other prizes. It was a book of the year in the Guardian, the Irish Independent, Kirkus and Esquire, a Staff Pick at The Paris Review and an Editors’ Choice in the New York Times Book Review.
BEYOND THE SEA was published in September 2019 to wide critical acclaim in the UK, Ireland, Australia and the US. The Wall Street Journal called the book "mesmerising"; The Guardian called the book “frightening but beautiful”, while The Sunday Times said it had “echoes of Melville, Dostoyevsky and William Golding”. It was chosen as a book of the year in the Irish Independent by Sebastian Barry who called the book "masterly". In 2021, it was published to wide acclaim in France where it won the 2022 Prix Gens de Mers.
PROHET SONG was published to ravishing praise in August 2023 and was shortlisted for the Booker Prize. John Boyne in The Sunday Independent called Prophet Song "entirely original". The Observer called the book "a crucial book for our current times... brilliant, haunting". The TLS called it "thunderously powerful". The Guardian called it "an urgent, important read". The Literary Review called the book "a masterly novel".
Paul Lynch was born in Limerick in 1977, grew up in Co Donegal, and lives in Dublin. He was previously the chief film critic of Ireland’s Sunday Tribune newspaper from 2007 to 2011, and wrote regularly for The Sunday Times on cinema. He is a full-time novelist.
His debut novel RED SKY IN MORNING was published to critical acclaim on both sides of the Atlantic in 2013. It was a finalist for France’s Prix du Meilleur Livre Étranger (Best Foreign Book Prize) and was nominated for the Prix du Premier Roman (First Novel Prize). In the US, it was an Amazon.com Book of the Month and was featured on NPR’s All Things Considered, where Lynch was hailed as “a lapidary young master”. It was a book of the year in The Irish Times, The Toronto Star, the Irish Independent and the Sunday Business Post.
THE BLACK SNOW (2014) was an Amazon.com Book of the Month. In France it won the French booksellers’ prize Prix Libr’à Nous for Best Foreign Novel and the inaugural Prix des Lecteurs Privat. It was nominated for the Prix Femina and the Prix du Roman Fnac (Fnac Novel Prize). It was hailed as “masterful” by The Sunday Times, “fierce and stunning” by The Toronto Star and featured on NPR’s All Things Considered where Alan Cheuse said that Lynch’s writing was found “somewhere between that of Nobel poet Seamus Heaney and Cormac McCarthy”.
GRACE was published in 2017 to massive international acclaim. The Washington Post called the book, “a moving work of lyrical and at times hallucinatory beauty… that reads like a hybrid of John Steinbeck’s ‘The Grapes of Wrath’ and Cormac McCarthy’s ‘The Road'”. It won the Kerry Group Irish Novel of the Year and was shortlisted for the Walter Scott Prize and the William Saroyan International Prize. In France it was shortlisted for the Prix Jean Monnet for European Literature, among other prizes. It was a book of the year in the Guardian, the Irish Independent, Kirkus and Esquire, a Staff Pick at The Paris Review and an Editors’ Choice in the New York Times Book Review.
BEYOND THE SEA was published in September 2019 to wide critical acclaim in the UK, Ireland, Australia and the US. The Wall Street Journal called the book "mesmerising"; The Guardian called the book “frightening but beautiful”, while The Sunday Times said it had “echoes of Melville, Dostoyevsky and William Golding”. It was chosen as a book of the year in the Irish Independent by Sebastian Barry who called the book "masterly". In 2021, it was published to wide acclaim in France where it won the 2022 Prix Gens de Mers.
PROHET SONG was published to ravishing praise in August 2023 and was shortlisted for the Booker Prize. John Boyne in The Sunday Independent called Prophet Song "entirely original". The Observer called the book "a crucial book for our current times... brilliant, haunting". The TLS called it "thunderously powerful". The Guardian called it "an urgent, important read". The Literary Review called the book "a masterly novel".
Paul Lynch was born in Limerick in 1977, grew up in Co Donegal, and lives in Dublin. He was previously the chief film critic of Ireland’s Sunday Tribune newspaper from 2007 to 2011, and wrote regularly for The Sunday Times on cinema. He is a full-time novelist.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 146 reviews
June 21, 2018
a book that would be best friends with Jude the Obscure.
from the synopsis:
In The Black Snow, Paul Lynch takes the pastoral novel and--with the calmest of hands---tears it apart.
i can't really think of any way to better describe what i just read. whoever wrote that is a genius at distilling this book to its purest essence. it's a pastoral novel the way thomas hardy wrote 'em - impassive nature serving as a backdrop to a human self-destructing. nature is permanent, people just passing through. and calmly, yes. a methodical dismemberment of comfort, stability and safety.
like a traditional pastoral, the beginning is very slow-moving. not that nothing happens - it opens with the byre-burning, cattle-and-farmhand-killing fire that sets the entire novel in motion, and it's intense. but it has all the detail and description of a pastoral - all the sounds and scents and density of farm and bog and natural elements that places you directly in the action, immersed, ready to go. but you won't go, not for a while. it's a very slow build. not boring, necessarily, although some will find it so. like a fire, it licks and samples, but once it catches, it is unstoppable devastation.
barnabas kane (an ominously biblical name for sure) returns to donegal in 1945, after having emigrated to america and spent years working construction in new york, untethered on those narrow beams high above the city. he returns with a wife, eskra, and the money he made abroad to establish a farm with several fields, cattle, and an apiary for his wife. they have a teenaged son named billy, and despite the locals viewing them as outsiders with the taint of "foreignness" about them, they are doing well and making a life for themselves in perfect bucolic bliss. there is a war on, but they are so removed from it in their rural bliss, their only connection to it is in the rations and the occasionally-heard plane flying above.
If it wasn't for hearin them planes and the rationing sometimes I often think what's going on in Europe is made up. The Emergency some big yarn we're being spun to explain why nothin gets done in this country. Bunch of useless bastards in Dublin. The newspaper says the entire world is being reshaped but here in this place you wouldn't know nothing of it.
the eye of the rest of europe's hurricane.
but then their byre burns down under mysterious circumstances, killing all the cattle, along with their farmhand and friend matthew peoples. barnabas also entered the burning byre after matthew, trying to save the cattle, but was pulled out, the only surviving thing in all the ash.
but survival isn't a triumph. following the fire, suspicion is cast towards barnabas in his perceived role in matthew's death, and he finds little assistance in rebuilding; a turning away that intensifies the isolation of already-isolated characters. he had canceled the insurance on the byre, needing the money for other things, and is turned away both by the bank and from neighbors when he goes looking for assistance. he's not a kind man, and there's a bitter irony in his situation, unnoticed by barnabas, who had shooed some tinkers off his land after the fire when they were picking through the remains for anything they could use. so - not a kind man, but a tough one, and he reasons that if no one will help him, he will help himself, and he begins rebuilding on his own. his methods of doing so further anger the community, as they disrespect local traditions and history, but he brushes off their cautions and accusations as superstitious nonsense.
and then things go very badly very quickly.
poor long-suffering eskra tries to give comfort, but is frustrated by barnabas' stubborn refusal to sell off any of their land, and his continued bitterness towards his neighbors.
You thought everything could be good for ever. That you were made now, Mr Big Shoes. That all the work was done. In your mind nobody dies and nobody grows old and there is no sign of winter. What in your stupidity have you done to us?
as barnabas descends into drink and fits of rage and billy skulks around with his own secrets, their situation deteriorates as they are beset by one horrific trial after another.
it's about hubris and pride and misunderstandings and guilt and all the tiny bits chipping away that will eventually causes the avalanche. and it's full of killer imagery, like The shriek of her eyes.
it's basically Jude the Obscure. an ambitious man finds himself battered by life because of a foolish mistake, and from that point on, he can find no comfort. not in family, nor work, nor drink, not in the kindness of strangers nor the bounty of nature. the man can't even get a hot cup of tea.
nothing but escalating misery splashed over the page, in beautiful and brutal prose.
and the epilogue… it's the goddamn smiley faced exclamation point that kicks you in the teeth
there are still unanswered questions at the end, but in this case, it's appropriate. the why and the how and the who isn't important to the story, just the what - the chain of events that turns the cogs.
so paul lynch is two-for-two with me now. he managed to satisfy two completely different literary sweet spots of mine: in Red Sky in Morning he brought off a bloody grit lit tale full of violent revenge and with this one, he gave me that ever-snowballing relentless misery that i love. paul lynch, be my valentine!
************************************************************
it started out slow, then it got good, then it built to an ending that channeled thomas hardy at his most brutal. holy hell, this was good.
4.5 stars
come to my blog!
from the synopsis:
In The Black Snow, Paul Lynch takes the pastoral novel and--with the calmest of hands---tears it apart.
i can't really think of any way to better describe what i just read. whoever wrote that is a genius at distilling this book to its purest essence. it's a pastoral novel the way thomas hardy wrote 'em - impassive nature serving as a backdrop to a human self-destructing. nature is permanent, people just passing through. and calmly, yes. a methodical dismemberment of comfort, stability and safety.
like a traditional pastoral, the beginning is very slow-moving. not that nothing happens - it opens with the byre-burning, cattle-and-farmhand-killing fire that sets the entire novel in motion, and it's intense. but it has all the detail and description of a pastoral - all the sounds and scents and density of farm and bog and natural elements that places you directly in the action, immersed, ready to go. but you won't go, not for a while. it's a very slow build. not boring, necessarily, although some will find it so. like a fire, it licks and samples, but once it catches, it is unstoppable devastation.
barnabas kane (an ominously biblical name for sure) returns to donegal in 1945, after having emigrated to america and spent years working construction in new york, untethered on those narrow beams high above the city. he returns with a wife, eskra, and the money he made abroad to establish a farm with several fields, cattle, and an apiary for his wife. they have a teenaged son named billy, and despite the locals viewing them as outsiders with the taint of "foreignness" about them, they are doing well and making a life for themselves in perfect bucolic bliss. there is a war on, but they are so removed from it in their rural bliss, their only connection to it is in the rations and the occasionally-heard plane flying above.
If it wasn't for hearin them planes and the rationing sometimes I often think what's going on in Europe is made up. The Emergency some big yarn we're being spun to explain why nothin gets done in this country. Bunch of useless bastards in Dublin. The newspaper says the entire world is being reshaped but here in this place you wouldn't know nothing of it.
the eye of the rest of europe's hurricane.
but then their byre burns down under mysterious circumstances, killing all the cattle, along with their farmhand and friend matthew peoples. barnabas also entered the burning byre after matthew, trying to save the cattle, but was pulled out, the only surviving thing in all the ash.
but survival isn't a triumph. following the fire, suspicion is cast towards barnabas in his perceived role in matthew's death, and he finds little assistance in rebuilding; a turning away that intensifies the isolation of already-isolated characters. he had canceled the insurance on the byre, needing the money for other things, and is turned away both by the bank and from neighbors when he goes looking for assistance. he's not a kind man, and there's a bitter irony in his situation, unnoticed by barnabas, who had shooed some tinkers off his land after the fire when they were picking through the remains for anything they could use. so - not a kind man, but a tough one, and he reasons that if no one will help him, he will help himself, and he begins rebuilding on his own. his methods of doing so further anger the community, as they disrespect local traditions and history, but he brushes off their cautions and accusations as superstitious nonsense.
and then things go very badly very quickly.
poor long-suffering eskra tries to give comfort, but is frustrated by barnabas' stubborn refusal to sell off any of their land, and his continued bitterness towards his neighbors.
You thought everything could be good for ever. That you were made now, Mr Big Shoes. That all the work was done. In your mind nobody dies and nobody grows old and there is no sign of winter. What in your stupidity have you done to us?
as barnabas descends into drink and fits of rage and billy skulks around with his own secrets, their situation deteriorates as they are beset by one horrific trial after another.
it's about hubris and pride and misunderstandings and guilt and all the tiny bits chipping away that will eventually causes the avalanche. and it's full of killer imagery, like The shriek of her eyes.
it's basically Jude the Obscure. an ambitious man finds himself battered by life because of a foolish mistake, and from that point on, he can find no comfort. not in family, nor work, nor drink, not in the kindness of strangers nor the bounty of nature. the man can't even get a hot cup of tea.
nothing but escalating misery splashed over the page, in beautiful and brutal prose.
and the epilogue… it's the goddamn smiley faced exclamation point that kicks you in the teeth
there are still unanswered questions at the end, but in this case, it's appropriate. the why and the how and the who isn't important to the story, just the what - the chain of events that turns the cogs.
so paul lynch is two-for-two with me now. he managed to satisfy two completely different literary sweet spots of mine: in Red Sky in Morning he brought off a bloody grit lit tale full of violent revenge and with this one, he gave me that ever-snowballing relentless misery that i love. paul lynch, be my valentine!
************************************************************
it started out slow, then it got good, then it built to an ending that channeled thomas hardy at his most brutal. holy hell, this was good.
4.5 stars
come to my blog!![Profile Image for s.penkevich [hiatus-will return-miss you all].](/_next/image?url=https%3A%2F%2Fi.gr-assets.com%2Fimages%2FS%2Fcompressed.photo.goodreads.com%2Fusers%2F1735525095i%2F6431467._UX200_CR0%2C11%2C200%2C200_.jpg&w=128&q=75)
June 5, 2017
You kids like devastation?
November 1, 2025
Paul Lynch’s The Black Snow is a dark, mesmerizing story, unexpectedly relevant today — about returning home and realizing that the land you longed for may no longer accept you. Set in post-war Ireland, it follows farmer Barnabas Kane, who, after years in America, tries to rebuild a life with his wife and son. But a tragedy on the farm shatters his world, turning everyday life into a slow, hopeless decay.
Lynch writes about guilt, isolation, and mistrust. This is not just a story but an immersion into a state — the cold, the smell of ash, the sound of rain on charred walls. His language is dense, physical, almost biblical at times; every sentence carries the weight of memory and inevitability. He works with language as with matter — not describing, but embodying it. Syntax itself becomes landscape: long, viscous sentences, repetitions, images layered like peat. You don’t watch Barnabas — you breathe the same air, you shiver in the same damp. The narrative moves slowly, like a smoldering fire, yet that very slowness creates tension.
At its core lies the impossibility of return. Barnabas comes back in body but remains in exile in every other sense. The land doesn’t recognize him, nor do his neighbors. This isn’t just social rejection — it’s an ontological break: America has changed him, and Ireland will not accept that change. He’s trapped between two worlds, belonging to neither.
One of Lynch’s sharpest insights is that “your own people” are often not warmth and belonging but envy, suspicion, and quiet resentment. The returnee romanticizes the soil of his ancestors, while those who never left have long stopped hearing it. For them, the land isn’t a symbol or myth — it’s poverty and a curse. They don’t need him or his zeal; to them, he’s just another outsider. And crucially, they’re right to distrust him — Barnabas truly is a stranger. Lynch gives us no villains: everyone is right and everyone is guilty, all caught in the trap of history and geography.
There is no heroism here, no redemption — only labor, pain, mistrust, endurance. The Black Snow is a novel about a man trying to hold on to meaning in a world that turns to ash.
Lynch makes a subtle bow to his previous novel Grace, not as a direct link but as an echo from another life, another tragedy. His Ireland is a single, recurring landscape of catastrophe, where different fates grow from the same soil.
The novel demands attention but rewards it: what remains afterward is a taste of bitterness, respect, and quiet dread at how a life can come undone. It’s powerful, heavy prose — kin to Cormac McCarthy.
Lynch writes about guilt, isolation, and mistrust. This is not just a story but an immersion into a state — the cold, the smell of ash, the sound of rain on charred walls. His language is dense, physical, almost biblical at times; every sentence carries the weight of memory and inevitability. He works with language as with matter — not describing, but embodying it. Syntax itself becomes landscape: long, viscous sentences, repetitions, images layered like peat. You don’t watch Barnabas — you breathe the same air, you shiver in the same damp. The narrative moves slowly, like a smoldering fire, yet that very slowness creates tension.
At its core lies the impossibility of return. Barnabas comes back in body but remains in exile in every other sense. The land doesn’t recognize him, nor do his neighbors. This isn’t just social rejection — it’s an ontological break: America has changed him, and Ireland will not accept that change. He’s trapped between two worlds, belonging to neither.
One of Lynch’s sharpest insights is that “your own people” are often not warmth and belonging but envy, suspicion, and quiet resentment. The returnee romanticizes the soil of his ancestors, while those who never left have long stopped hearing it. For them, the land isn’t a symbol or myth — it’s poverty and a curse. They don’t need him or his zeal; to them, he’s just another outsider. And crucially, they’re right to distrust him — Barnabas truly is a stranger. Lynch gives us no villains: everyone is right and everyone is guilty, all caught in the trap of history and geography.
There is no heroism here, no redemption — only labor, pain, mistrust, endurance. The Black Snow is a novel about a man trying to hold on to meaning in a world that turns to ash.
Lynch makes a subtle bow to his previous novel Grace, not as a direct link but as an echo from another life, another tragedy. His Ireland is a single, recurring landscape of catastrophe, where different fates grow from the same soil.
The novel demands attention but rewards it: what remains afterward is a taste of bitterness, respect, and quiet dread at how a life can come undone. It’s powerful, heavy prose — kin to Cormac McCarthy.
October 15, 2015
This is the proverbial train wreck that you cannot look away from. You watch helplessly as a man loses everything that is important to him. Bit by bit. Piece by piece. And, it is so beautifully told, so gorgeously written, you forgive it its brutality.
Mostly, at least.
Mostly, at least.
December 1, 2025
Barnaby Kane returns to Donegal, Ireland, his place of birth. Years before, when orphaned and left to care for himself at a young age, he left Ireland for New York. He now returns a self-made man with his American wife Eskra, his teenaged son Billy and enough money to buy a farm and livestock. They thought they would be returning to the life that Barnaby should have had, to a place that was his home. They thought they would belong to this imagined vast and mythical place.
And then catastrophe hits. Their barn with all their livestock burns down and one of Barnaby’s day workers is killed. From this event their life begins to spiral. Once they are depleted of all their wealth and of the American self-confidence they brought with them to this rural and rather backward place, they realize that their sense of belonging was misconceived.
Barnaby frantically seeks answers; he needs someone to blame for this tragedy. His search will send him in different directions all of which are counter-productive. Little does he know that the fire that has consumed their livelihood and all of their funds is only the first act of their family’s collapse. With Eskra’s reluctant help Barnaby attempts to rebuild, but it seems that every action they take moves them nearer to sealing the fate of their family.
The somewhat Shakespearean tragedy of the Kane family, including the required fatal flaw of the protagonist, is told by a third person narrator with Billy hysterically bursting in from time to time in the first person as he becomes more and more agitated and difficult.
Paul Lynch’s prose and style are a presence unto themselves. They are beautiful in their lyrical rhythm as they connect us to this timeless place. His descriptions of Nature are more disturbing than they at first appear and we are left to figure out for ourselves if this place is indeed vast and mythical as imagined by Barnaby and Eskra, or if in fact it is scant, cold and unwelcoming.
And throughout this tale the mountains of Donegal - these ancient creatures for whom people and their joys and sorrows are but an insignificant flicker - silently maintain their unchanging countenance. They are age-old witnesses to the knowledge that there is much that is beyond the purview of any individual person. They know that grand schemes that are sought as elucidation for occurrences in life, such as those that have befallen the Kane family, are not always accessible or perhaps non-existent.
And then catastrophe hits. Their barn with all their livestock burns down and one of Barnaby’s day workers is killed. From this event their life begins to spiral. Once they are depleted of all their wealth and of the American self-confidence they brought with them to this rural and rather backward place, they realize that their sense of belonging was misconceived.
Barnaby frantically seeks answers; he needs someone to blame for this tragedy. His search will send him in different directions all of which are counter-productive. Little does he know that the fire that has consumed their livelihood and all of their funds is only the first act of their family’s collapse. With Eskra’s reluctant help Barnaby attempts to rebuild, but it seems that every action they take moves them nearer to sealing the fate of their family.
The somewhat Shakespearean tragedy of the Kane family, including the required fatal flaw of the protagonist, is told by a third person narrator with Billy hysterically bursting in from time to time in the first person as he becomes more and more agitated and difficult.
Paul Lynch’s prose and style are a presence unto themselves. They are beautiful in their lyrical rhythm as they connect us to this timeless place. His descriptions of Nature are more disturbing than they at first appear and we are left to figure out for ourselves if this place is indeed vast and mythical as imagined by Barnaby and Eskra, or if in fact it is scant, cold and unwelcoming.
And throughout this tale the mountains of Donegal - these ancient creatures for whom people and their joys and sorrows are but an insignificant flicker - silently maintain their unchanging countenance. They are age-old witnesses to the knowledge that there is much that is beyond the purview of any individual person. They know that grand schemes that are sought as elucidation for occurrences in life, such as those that have befallen the Kane family, are not always accessible or perhaps non-existent.
April 29, 2025
еще один эпизод мрачной ирландской вселенной Пола Линча, той же, что в "Небе" и "Благодати" (и ирландской сельской вселенной Таны Френч навыворот). теперь мы имеем дело в 1945 уже году с потомками некоторых персонажей и артефактами, оставшимися от прежних поколений. завораживает и потопляет:
"Люди ушли отсюда так давно, что ни един из них уже не вспомнится. Только и осталась общая мысль о людях. Народная память. ...Ничего в том настоящего. У них больше нет историй, кем бы эти те люди ни были... Их могло и не существовать никогда. Все знаки и грехи смыты.
Кабы можно было посидеть и поговорить с камнями. Во историй-то понаслушаешься.
Я б сказал, здесь одно только страдание и было. Я б сказал, был тут голод, и они перемерли или ушли куда. Так оно бывало."
фактически, в опровержение вот этого Линч и пишет свою ирландскую сагу - могучий экзерсис о невозможности вернуться в некогда родные места. урок нам нынешним особенн�� показателен: обратной дороги нет. ну и, конечно, история Иова, где все развивается вполне согласно сопромату, от плохого к худшему, когда вязкость само'й хтонической среды не позволяет событиям развиваться иначе. в россии роман должен, конечно, читаться, как описание маршрута, как словесная дорожная карта, текст фактически документальный.
"Люди ушли отсюда так давно, что ни един из них уже не вспомнится. Только и осталась общая мысль о людях. Народная память. ...Ничего в том настоящего. У них больше нет историй, кем бы эти те люди ни были... Их могло и не существовать никогда. Все знаки и грехи смыты.
Кабы можно было посидеть и поговорить с камнями. Во историй-то понаслушаешься.
Я б сказал, здесь одно только страдание и было. Я б сказал, был тут голод, и они перемерли или ушли куда. Так оно бывало."
фактически, в опровержение вот этого Линч и пишет свою ирландскую сагу - могучий экзерсис о невозможности вернуться в некогда родные места. урок нам нынешним особенн�� показателен: обратной дороги нет. ну и, конечно, история Иова, где все развивается вполне согласно сопромату, от плохого к худшему, когда вязкость само'й хтонической среды не позволяет событиям развиваться иначе. в россии роман должен, конечно, читаться, как описание маршрута, как словесная дорожная карта, текст фактически документальный.
March 28, 2014
My rating: 1.5.
I received this book for free through Goodreads First Reads.
I found it quite difficult to review this book. It is not easy for me to criticize things but at the same time I did not want to lie and say I loved it. The Black Snow is the second novel written by Irish author Paul Lynch. Set in Ireland in 1945, and written in four parts, it tells the story of a small family and the difficulties they are facing.
What occurs in part one has already been revealed in the book’s blurb. Barnabas Kane and his son, Billy, are working in the fields with their farm worker, Matthew Peoples. Whilst they are out there, Matthew notices smoke rising up from where the farmhouse is situated. After racing up there they discover that the byre, containing forty-three cows, is on fire. Both Barnabas and Matthew rush in attempting to rescue the cattle but only Barnabas comes back out alive.
The main bulk of the novel told through parts two to four describe how Barnabas and his wife, Eskra, cope in the aftermath of the fire – or do not cope, depending on how it is viewed. These sections are interspersed with diary-like entries written by Billy beginning in the time before the disaster, which leads the reader to question whether the fire was an accident or if someone set it alight on purpose.
I was not that keen on Lynch’s writing style. He makes no use of speech marks in his narrative, which often results in being halfway through a sentence and realizing that someone is speaking, or in some cases that a different person is talking. Repeatedly I had to reread paragraphs in order to understand what was going on.
Another thing I did not like was the over use of expletives. The odd swear word I can deal with, but I felt the amount used was completely unnecessary. I also occasionally found the narrative a little boring and felt my mind wandering – again this resulted in a lot of rereading passages.
I do not mean to be harsh in reviewing this book; no doubt there will be people out there who will love it. For me, however, I guess it was not really my style.
I received this book for free through Goodreads First Reads.
I found it quite difficult to review this book. It is not easy for me to criticize things but at the same time I did not want to lie and say I loved it. The Black Snow is the second novel written by Irish author Paul Lynch. Set in Ireland in 1945, and written in four parts, it tells the story of a small family and the difficulties they are facing.
What occurs in part one has already been revealed in the book’s blurb. Barnabas Kane and his son, Billy, are working in the fields with their farm worker, Matthew Peoples. Whilst they are out there, Matthew notices smoke rising up from where the farmhouse is situated. After racing up there they discover that the byre, containing forty-three cows, is on fire. Both Barnabas and Matthew rush in attempting to rescue the cattle but only Barnabas comes back out alive.
The main bulk of the novel told through parts two to four describe how Barnabas and his wife, Eskra, cope in the aftermath of the fire – or do not cope, depending on how it is viewed. These sections are interspersed with diary-like entries written by Billy beginning in the time before the disaster, which leads the reader to question whether the fire was an accident or if someone set it alight on purpose.
I was not that keen on Lynch’s writing style. He makes no use of speech marks in his narrative, which often results in being halfway through a sentence and realizing that someone is speaking, or in some cases that a different person is talking. Repeatedly I had to reread paragraphs in order to understand what was going on.
Another thing I did not like was the over use of expletives. The odd swear word I can deal with, but I felt the amount used was completely unnecessary. I also occasionally found the narrative a little boring and felt my mind wandering – again this resulted in a lot of rereading passages.
I do not mean to be harsh in reviewing this book; no doubt there will be people out there who will love it. For me, however, I guess it was not really my style.
September 2, 2024
È un romanzo drammatico dal ritmo incalzante. Ambientato in Irlanda nel periodo del secondo conflitto mondiale, di cui si ritrovano solo echi lontani nelle pagine, è la storia del ritorno tragico nella terra di origine di un emigrato, Barnabas Kane, e della sua piccola famiglia, la moglie Eskra e il figlioletto Billy.
Barnabas sarà per sempre uno straniero in patria, respinto perché l’emigrare è visto come un tradimento, un abbandono, e lui stesso vivrà come in una terra di mezzo, desideroso di mettere radici ma col rifiuto dei rituali identitari della comunità. E la comunità è chiusa nella sua rassegnata miseria, diffidente e giudicante; la lotta di Barnabas contro gli stenti, le disgrazie e le avversità si fa titanica e senza speranza e il destino è già scritto. E le “colpe” della comunità avvertite da Barnabas e dalla sua famiglia, si intersecano con le “colpe” individuali dei protagonisti, perché anche loro hanno qualcosa da nascondere, da rimuovere, delle responsabilità indicibili e non comprese fino in fondo, non si è mai sicuri di come siano andate le cose. Lo stile della narrazione è ricercato, ricco di analogie, di associazioni, di sensazioni: i colori sono prevalentemente cupi, le ombre assumono significati particolari, gli odori sono spesso dei fetori, persino gli animali sono sofferenti. Il racconto è quasi cinematografico per il continuo incalzare e succedersi delle scene e assume le tinte del racconto del mistero e del racconto investigativo.
Soprattutto, Neve nera ha il pregio di avere un carattere universale, di essere senza tempo e luogo e non è così significativo che il racconto si svolga in Irlanda.
Barnabas sarà per sempre uno straniero in patria, respinto perché l’emigrare è visto come un tradimento, un abbandono, e lui stesso vivrà come in una terra di mezzo, desideroso di mettere radici ma col rifiuto dei rituali identitari della comunità. E la comunità è chiusa nella sua rassegnata miseria, diffidente e giudicante; la lotta di Barnabas contro gli stenti, le disgrazie e le avversità si fa titanica e senza speranza e il destino è già scritto. E le “colpe” della comunità avvertite da Barnabas e dalla sua famiglia, si intersecano con le “colpe” individuali dei protagonisti, perché anche loro hanno qualcosa da nascondere, da rimuovere, delle responsabilità indicibili e non comprese fino in fondo, non si è mai sicuri di come siano andate le cose. Lo stile della narrazione è ricercato, ricco di analogie, di associazioni, di sensazioni: i colori sono prevalentemente cupi, le ombre assumono significati particolari, gli odori sono spesso dei fetori, persino gli animali sono sofferenti. Il racconto è quasi cinematografico per il continuo incalzare e succedersi delle scene e assume le tinte del racconto del mistero e del racconto investigativo.
Soprattutto, Neve nera ha il pregio di avere un carattere universale, di essere senza tempo e luogo e non è così significativo che il racconto si svolga in Irlanda.
May 17, 2024
Got it done before writers fest! Sincerely hope Paul Lynch is feeling okay in his personal life and such. Deeply upsetting novels but boy can he string words together
May 8, 2015
Wow, talk about bleak. I don't think there was one upbeat moment in this book. Not one. In fact, each time I picked it up, I cringed and sank into a black mood. It begins in Donegal, Ireland, 1945, with a byre (barn) going up in flames, a horrible scene that goes on for pages. The family loses all their cows inside. What follows is their attempt to rebuild and continue on. But nothing...nothing at all good happens. NOTHING. This guy makes Stephen King sound like Mary Sunshine.
abandoned
July 7, 2015I probably shouldn't even give this a review since I abandoned it after only 5 pages. For me, it falls into the category of "forced beautiful writing" where I could feel the author crafting each sentence to astound the reader. Just wore this reader out after only a few short pages.
May 18, 2024
I found this so bleak a read that I nearly gave up, despite the excellence of his writing. There were passages that took my breath away in terms of their poetry, but always there was a narrative pull that made me want to skip these- , in order to find out if the particular situation he was describing improved.
Underneath each moment of redemption was the nagging feeling that "this can't last" - and when it didn't, I found myself looking out for each positive turn of events more and more. Self-fulfilling predictions of bad things to happen ("I told you it would rain,and look it has")interferes with reading, as it does in life,and I can only handle so much in fiction.
It reminded me of Hardy, in many ways - but last time I read Hardy there was so much more to distract you from the tragedy- (what used to be referred to as "comic relief" ) whereas here there isn't.
Maybe an unfair comment,but I am glad that I did finish it.
Underneath each moment of redemption was the nagging feeling that "this can't last" - and when it didn't, I found myself looking out for each positive turn of events more and more. Self-fulfilling predictions of bad things to happen ("I told you it would rain,and look it has")interferes with reading, as it does in life,and I can only handle so much in fiction.
It reminded me of Hardy, in many ways - but last time I read Hardy there was so much more to distract you from the tragedy- (what used to be referred to as "comic relief" ) whereas here there isn't.
Maybe an unfair comment,but I am glad that I did finish it.
September 16, 2025
A gripping hard luck story about an Irish farming family during World War Two. Written in a faux biblical, apocalyptic style that somehow (mostly) works.
July 30, 2015
A good story, somewhat ruined by some of the most tortured sentences I've ever read. It's somewhere between Jude the Obscure and Ethan Frome, insanely bleak and chilly.
December 14, 2024
The disintegration of a family after a fire. The community that made recovery difficult wnd the death of the son and the wife leaving. The harrowing description of a tragedy. The writing style grabs you by the scruff of the neck with its intensity.
July 20, 2015
I bought this novel for a penny plus postage off Amazon after I had read the first 50 pages of Lynch's debut, 'Red Sky in Morning', which greatly impressed me, and while I felt that book didn't ultimately live up to its excellent start, I was keen to see how his writing had developed with this, his second novel.
A trip to Donegal, where the novel is set, was the perfect place to read the book, which was a pretty dark and depressing read. Set in 1945, starting during the last few weeks of the 'Emergency', the book tells the story of the Kane family, Barnabus, a Donegal native and orphan who had emigrated to New York as a youth, but returned in later life with his American wife, Ezra and son, Billy.
The story is taken up 12 years after their return, with the family having built up a sizeable farm, owning 43 cattle, and employing Matthew Peoples, a local labourer. While working in the fields, Peoples spots a fire in the byre, and while he and Barnabus attempt to battle the blaze and save the livestock, Peoples loses his life. The resulting fallout is documented, the narrative following both Barnabus and Ezra, with extra information provided through extracts written by Billy.
As previously mentioned, if you're looking for a light or happy read, this is the last book you should turn to. I'd originally avoided Lynch, despite seeing his work recommended, because of his reputation for being overly flowery in his writing style, but I have to say that I wasn't put off too much in this one, despite his waxing lyrical at times, particularly about the Donegal setting. I had to keep reminding myself that the novel was set only 70 years ago, because it really felt like it could've been 100 years earlier, given the way of life and the interaction between characters-no doubt authentic for the period in question. I was particularly taken with the superstition of the locals, dismissed by the Kanes, but ultimately hinted at as having substance.
I know that this novel has only recently been published in the US, so I'm not sure how long it'll be before Lynch's next outing. Given this one, I'll definitely be buying it when it does come out.
A trip to Donegal, where the novel is set, was the perfect place to read the book, which was a pretty dark and depressing read. Set in 1945, starting during the last few weeks of the 'Emergency', the book tells the story of the Kane family, Barnabus, a Donegal native and orphan who had emigrated to New York as a youth, but returned in later life with his American wife, Ezra and son, Billy.
The story is taken up 12 years after their return, with the family having built up a sizeable farm, owning 43 cattle, and employing Matthew Peoples, a local labourer. While working in the fields, Peoples spots a fire in the byre, and while he and Barnabus attempt to battle the blaze and save the livestock, Peoples loses his life. The resulting fallout is documented, the narrative following both Barnabus and Ezra, with extra information provided through extracts written by Billy.
As previously mentioned, if you're looking for a light or happy read, this is the last book you should turn to. I'd originally avoided Lynch, despite seeing his work recommended, because of his reputation for being overly flowery in his writing style, but I have to say that I wasn't put off too much in this one, despite his waxing lyrical at times, particularly about the Donegal setting. I had to keep reminding myself that the novel was set only 70 years ago, because it really felt like it could've been 100 years earlier, given the way of life and the interaction between characters-no doubt authentic for the period in question. I was particularly taken with the superstition of the locals, dismissed by the Kanes, but ultimately hinted at as having substance.
I know that this novel has only recently been published in the US, so I'm not sure how long it'll be before Lynch's next outing. Given this one, I'll definitely be buying it when it does come out.
February 25, 2024
Beautiful writing but devastating. Too too bleak.
February 8, 2016
Wow, what a start to my Irish Counties Challenge. I hardly feel worthy to review this novel as I'm pretty sure Paul Lynch utters more beautiful turns of phrase whilst mumbling in his sleep than I can when at my most articulate. Although relatively short, this novel forces you to take your time with exquisite prose that you'll want to savor. Slow moving and not consisting of a huge amount of plot, the flowery writing and gentle pace actually serve to exaggerate the turmoil and devastation felt by the characters in the novel. It took me well over a week to read this book, because I had to take it in short bursts, but despite the dense prose and lack of speech punctuation there is a simplicity to the story and a realism to the characters that makes it easy to pick up and recall everything with ease.
I feel I should probably warn potential readers that this is an immensely bleak book, which depicts the gradual self-destruction of Barnabas Kane and the fallout of that cast onto his family. I sincerely hope, however, that would not put anyone off reading it. There is so much to love about this book, offset as that is by the tragedy it portrays. The characters are so credibly drawn, but more than that, striking is the picture of a rural community set in its traditional ways, stubborn, opposed to newness and change; of conflict caused by the 'local strangers', the Kane family, as Barnabas impinges on community belief and heritage in his attempt to salvage his livelihood from misfortune.
A subplot featuring the Kane son, Billy, is told through diary entries, and while interesting in its own right, is ultimately never solidly tied back into the main story. Towards the end, I thought more was going to be outrightly resolved than actually was - in fact one pervasive question is never answered at all - but this did not detract from the story, which actually shocked me three separate times with dramatic events and, while unexpected, in hindsight it feels like things could not have gone any other way.
A beautiful, heart-breaking story absolutely worth reading.
I feel I should probably warn potential readers that this is an immensely bleak book, which depicts the gradual self-destruction of Barnabas Kane and the fallout of that cast onto his family. I sincerely hope, however, that would not put anyone off reading it. There is so much to love about this book, offset as that is by the tragedy it portrays. The characters are so credibly drawn, but more than that, striking is the picture of a rural community set in its traditional ways, stubborn, opposed to newness and change; of conflict caused by the 'local strangers', the Kane family, as Barnabas impinges on community belief and heritage in his attempt to salvage his livelihood from misfortune.
A subplot featuring the Kane son, Billy, is told through diary entries, and while interesting in its own right, is ultimately never solidly tied back into the main story. Towards the end, I thought more was going to be outrightly resolved than actually was - in fact one pervasive question is never answered at all - but this did not detract from the story, which actually shocked me three separate times with dramatic events and, while unexpected, in hindsight it feels like things could not have gone any other way.
A beautiful, heart-breaking story absolutely worth reading.
August 3, 2015
Lynch has an interesting and beautiful way with words. There were times I would go back over sentences and say them out loud just for the roll of them.
His characters are strong. Description is beautiful.
But the story made me want to give up. Just depressing. And what's worse - I didn't necessarily learn anything from it. Nothing to take home and roll around in my head. Just bleak. Doesn't mean it's a bad story, bad book or bad author, just ugh - not my sort of - well these sorts of stories/books just make me really uncomfortable and sad.
His characters are strong. Description is beautiful.
But the story made me want to give up. Just depressing. And what's worse - I didn't necessarily learn anything from it. Nothing to take home and roll around in my head. Just bleak. Doesn't mean it's a bad story, bad book or bad author, just ugh - not my sort of - well these sorts of stories/books just make me really uncomfortable and sad.
September 21, 2015
A fire at a farm leads to death, but the aftermath of the tragedy lingers long after the flames are extinguished.
I found the writing style (no speech marks, etc.) difficult to follow, overall the plot was pretty thin (life is hard, which is true for the vast majority of people) and the story was a bit boring.
I found the writing style (no speech marks, etc.) difficult to follow, overall the plot was pretty thin (life is hard, which is true for the vast majority of people) and the story was a bit boring.
January 6, 2016
Gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous writing. A fine plot. Beautifully conceived characters. Like some Irish ballad sung at your bedside.
April 17, 2025
The Black Snow caught my attention several years ago when I saw many people comparing it to Cormac McCarthy's writing. I just finished McCarthy's entire bibliography earlier this year and have been itching to get into something with a similar style so I thought now would be a good time to see how it compared. Unfortunately (or so I originally thought), I was very busy with life and all of that fun adult stuff when I read this book, and it took me several days to finish it. However, about a quarter of the way through I realized this was the kind of book best consumed in small sittings. The writing style is so rich that often times I benefitted from reading only 50 pages then reflecting on it for a day or two as I went about my other tasks, then picking it back up to digest some more.
Also, the book from page 2 through the end is also vastly hopeless. Barnabas (as well as his family) spends the entire novel becoming more and more dislocated from society, and from himself. There's not a single ray of sunshine throughout, and violence occurs rapidly and unflinchingly to those least deserving. This whole novel was like witnessing a terrible car accident that I could not look away from, and had to see the outcome of, even though in the back of my mind I knew there was only one way it could end.
The Black Snow was very deserving of 5 stars. the writing style and overall atmosphere it created were very unique, and the plot was so despondent and lonesome that I stayed invested and intrigued the whole time, even when I knew nothing good could possibly happen.
Also, the book from page 2 through the end is also vastly hopeless. Barnabas (as well as his family) spends the entire novel becoming more and more dislocated from society, and from himself. There's not a single ray of sunshine throughout, and violence occurs rapidly and unflinchingly to those least deserving. This whole novel was like witnessing a terrible car accident that I could not look away from, and had to see the outcome of, even though in the back of my mind I knew there was only one way it could end.
The Black Snow was very deserving of 5 stars. the writing style and overall atmosphere it created were very unique, and the plot was so despondent and lonesome that I stayed invested and intrigued the whole time, even when I knew nothing good could possibly happen.
May 4, 2022
Set in 1945 in rural Ireland, Lynch’s sad and evocative tale has a very powerful opening. Barnabas Kane and his hired hand, Matthew Peoples, rush from their fields at the sight of a fire. The shed housing 43 cows is alight. Matthew would never have entered without the hand of Barnabas pushing him, just the beginning of years of unrelenting misfortune for the family, who soon become aware that the insurance has been cancelled and are heavily in debt, with pretty much no available capital.
There are similarities to southern American writing in the brutal cruelty and evocative scenes of rural life, but whereas his US counterparts use spare prose, are masters of the colloquialism, and even employ a drizzle of humour, Lynch ponders and lingers, and his efforts at dialect often fall flat.
There are similarities to southern American writing in the brutal cruelty and evocative scenes of rural life, but whereas his US counterparts use spare prose, are masters of the colloquialism, and even employ a drizzle of humour, Lynch ponders and lingers, and his efforts at dialect often fall flat.
October 30, 2017
This is an intense, intimate portrait of the disintegration of a family in 1940s Donegal. Imagine the relentlessness of a Hardy novel written in the language of Faulkner or Daniel Woodrell and you've some idea of its power. The Black Snow is more compelling than Lynch's startling debut, Red Sky In Morning, in that the Kane family are more fully realized than the archetypal hunter-hunted antagonists of the latter. What a pity to encounter so many negative ratings here on Goodreads from readers who were given free copies and who bemoaned either the originality of the language or a (perceived) lack of plot.
March 22, 2025
Виртуозно сделанная красивейшая иллюстрация тщетности мести и физической, глубоко природной необходимости (потребности) прощения и губительности неукрощенного эго.
*
A masterfully crafted, stunning illustration of the futility of revenge, the profound, deeply innate necessity of forgiveness, and the ruinous nature of an unbridled ego.
*
A masterfully crafted, stunning illustration of the futility of revenge, the profound, deeply innate necessity of forgiveness, and the ruinous nature of an unbridled ego.
March 15, 2025
Paul love have you ever had a laugh in your life
February 26, 2024
Bleak but beautiful.
April 11, 2025
like every other Paul Lynch book I've read, absolutely beautiful and absolutely devastating.
March 4, 2021
Écrit par l'irlandais Paul Lynch, « La neige noire » est un roman tragique et magnifique. Une belle découverte. Il raconte l'histoire de Barnabas Kane, fermier qui a émigré en Amérique avant de revenir s'installer en Irlande avec femme et enfant. Un jour, un incendie détruit son étable, et à partir de ce moment le sort ne cesse de s'acharner contre sa famille.
Le récit relaté d'un point de vue extérieur est entrecoupé de passages du journal écrit par son fils Billy qui apportent un éclairage différent à l'histoire.
Dès les premières pages, j'ai été emportée par l'écriture. Une écriture magnifique, lyrique et très visuelle. Paul Lynch écrit tel un peintre. A chaque ligne lue, une image apparaît. L'auteur décrit avec une grande délicatesse le moindre bruissement du vent dans les arbres, la couleur rose de l'aube, l'odeur âcre de l'air, le plumage noir bleuté d'une corneille. La nature irlandaise est un personnage à part entière dans ce roman. La pluie, la tourbe, les collines, le ciel ; tous les éléments nous submergent. L’âpreté des paysages se retrouvent aussi dans la rudesse des habitants.
Ainsi, le premier chapitre du livre qui relate l'incendie est d'une telle puissance que j'ai été hypnotisée par les images décrites. Même dans les passages plus noirs du roman, la beauté est là.
Une telle beauté stylistique pourrait rendre l'histoire accessoire. Pourtant, elle est d'une telle force qu'une fois le livre refermé, j'ai eu du mal à trouver le sommeil tant elle m'avait éprouvé. A la fois sombre et lumineux, "La neige noire" est un roman qui porte bien son nom.
Le récit relaté d'un point de vue extérieur est entrecoupé de passages du journal écrit par son fils Billy qui apportent un éclairage différent à l'histoire.
Dès les premières pages, j'ai été emportée par l'écriture. Une écriture magnifique, lyrique et très visuelle. Paul Lynch écrit tel un peintre. A chaque ligne lue, une image apparaît. L'auteur décrit avec une grande délicatesse le moindre bruissement du vent dans les arbres, la couleur rose de l'aube, l'odeur âcre de l'air, le plumage noir bleuté d'une corneille. La nature irlandaise est un personnage à part entière dans ce roman. La pluie, la tourbe, les collines, le ciel ; tous les éléments nous submergent. L’âpreté des paysages se retrouvent aussi dans la rudesse des habitants.
Ainsi, le premier chapitre du livre qui relate l'incendie est d'une telle puissance que j'ai été hypnotisée par les images décrites. Même dans les passages plus noirs du roman, la beauté est là.
Une telle beauté stylistique pourrait rendre l'histoire accessoire. Pourtant, elle est d'une telle force qu'une fois le livre refermé, j'ai eu du mal à trouver le sommeil tant elle m'avait éprouvé. A la fois sombre et lumineux, "La neige noire" est un roman qui porte bien son nom.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 146 reviews