Shortly after their eighteenth birthday, twins Morwenna and Corwin’s father dies accidentally (and ignominiously) when he falls off a cliff, drunk. With him go the last vestiges of their childhood, and soon after both move away to start their separate adult lives. Corwin sets off on a fifteen-year itinerant tour of rainless, war-torn countries while Morwenna leads a quiet (some might say anti-social) life as a bookbinder in east London.
When their beloved grandfather, Matthew, grows ill, the pull of home is too strong to resist and they find themselves back in the family house in Devon, drawn to the map, their grandfather’s life’s work.
Over the past fifty years, Matthew has meticulously painted every important event in the family’s life on top of an ordnance survey chart. Part record and part legend, the map has been a subject of fascination to Morwenna and Corwin for as long as they can remember. But is there a deeper meaning hidden among the tiny pictures of shipwrecks, asps and farting devils, and could it lead them closer to what really happened to their father all those years ago?
Julia Rochester grew up in East Devon on the Exe Estuary.
She has worked for the BBC World Service on programmes in Portuguese for Africa and for Amnesty International as Researcher on Brazil. She has also been the managing editor of her own small publishing company, Corvo Books.
A graduate in Modern Languages, she is fluent in German and Portuguese and has lived and worked in Germany and Brazil.
She lives in London with her husband and daughter.
This was quite the hidden gem. I randomly picked it up at the library, read the prologue whilst still standing at the shelf and was immediately intrigued.
The House at the Edge of the World is a beautifully atmospheric family drama with a hint of mystery, set in the coastal area of Devonshire. The story starts on the night that John Venton drunkenly falls to his death from the cliffs near his home, as he tries to pee off them. As the blurb of the book states: "it was a stupid way to die". We follow Johns twin children in the seventeen years following, and see via their eyes how the concequences of this event ripple trought the remaining family. All of the characters, in my opinion, were very well written. They are realistic and flawed to the point of almost being unlikeble. This includes our two protagonists. Despite (or maybe even because of that), I was very invested in their story of dealing with the loss of their father, and looking for answers as to what exactly happened that night.
The uncertainty surrounding their fathers last moments plays a rather large role, especially in the latter half of the book. I was at first not sure if I was on board with this as I was afraid that it would be the build up to some twisty/thriller ending, just for the sake of sensation. Luckily, this was not the case. It was handled extremely well: it made the book quite the pageturner and added a layer of extra emotional depth in the end.
My only critique would be the writingstyle, which walks a very thin line between beautifully poetic and pretentious. The author herself seems to be very aware of this and addresses the fact that her characters are quite pretentious in the story itself. Still, at times it felt a little forced and made me dislike the protagonist. Again: maybe this was intentional, but I feel I should mention it.
To get back to my starting statement: this was truly a hidden gem for me. It was very much up my alley and I'm very happy that I decided to pick it up. I would recommend it to anyone looking for a good family tragedy.
‘When I was eighteen, my father fell off a cliff. It was a stupid way to die. There was a good moon. There was no wind. There was no excuse. He was pissing into the chine at Brock Tor on his way home from the pub and fell headlong drunk into the spring tide with his flies open.’
And so starts the prologue to an extraordinary work. A story of families and relationships with rich characters and brooding atmosphere. Picked up at a Charity shop - I liked the cover.
Story told by Morwenna, a twin to her brother Corwin. She is not close to her mother. But closer to her grandfather whose life’s work is dedicated to a painting of a map with symbols of the house and the small area around it.
An intriguing weird and gripping tale of family and all it's complexities. Dealing with love, taboos, grief, mystery, growing up, family, friends and relationships in their many forms. The writing is a pleasure to read and the events unfolding throughout keep you interested and yearning to find out what happens next. A great read and page turner.
Dark, funny and beautifully weird. Full of sharp observations and eye opening revelations. Brilliantly crafted, possibly a bit slow to start but once it gets going.... Would be unfair to say anything else, because not knowing is everything.
The Prologue for 'The House at the Edge of the World' by Julia Rochester began with these words: 'When I was eighteen, my father fell of a cliff. It was a stupid way to die. There was a good moon. There was no wind. There was no excuse'. That is the most exciting thing that happened. The characters were unlikable, the plot thin, the pace so slow I lost interest and there was no hint of the intrigue or involvement suggested by the blurb. Morwenna, the character whose words open the story and her twin Corwin are self-absorbed, their father and mother are unhappy and they live in an old house that overlooks the sea. Morwenna reminisces on her childhood. She argues with her mother. She discusses the family with her brother. Her malevolent character does not develop over the course of 20 years so, to me, she felt one-dimensional. But nothing actually happens and the slight mystery did not draw me in because it was fairly transparent and not original. Although the writing is sometimes lyrical in its description of the countryside, the characters are so unpleasant and mean to each other and to others, I couldn't care less about them. Much ado about nothing.
Probably 3.5 stars but it’s so beautifully written, I’ve rounded up.
This is an unusual book, and hard to review. It draws you in effortlessly, despite the fact that most of the characters are fairly unlikeable. At best, I was largely unsympathetic to them. I felt more sympathy for Valerie than everyone else put together.
For me, this book is all about the mark we leave - or not - on the world, and there’s a sense of melancholy throughout - both these things are summed up beautifully in the final chapter.
I’d happily recommend it, despite my inability to sum it up!
My rating strategy:
5 stars = An all time favourite, I could tell you about this 10 years later.
4 stars = Loved this, really gripping/fun/exciting, will remember long term.
3 stars = Definitely enjoyed, might forget quickly though, but happy to read more by the author.
2 stars = Likely to have some good points, but it didn't properly captivate me.
1 star = Not my cup of tea at all, wouldn't return to the author.
Part coming-of-age story, part psychological family drama, there is a dark and twisty mystery at the heart of Rochester's debut novel. For the most part, I quite enjoyed this evocative read, and I was particularly taken with Matthew, the grandfather, and his lifelong mapping project.
There were two issues that didn't quite work for me: 1) the character of Morwenna - who was a bit of a curmudgeonly and blunt teenager - never really progressed or evolved. While I did find her interesting, her lack of dimension took away from things a bit for me. 2) that, in writing about twins, Rochester decided it had to go there - and if not fully there, the subject was introduced and explored. I get that there is a mystique to the nature of twinship. Heck, I am completely fascinated by twins myself and, for years as a kid, was sure I had actually been a twin (heh!). While reading The House at the Edge of the World, I created a list of fictional twins: https://www.rifflebooks.com/list/206711 - hit me up if you want me to add any titles to this collection. But what is it that makes writers veer into Flowers in the Attic-ville when writing twins??
But, these 2 points aside, there was much to like in this story, and I do feel this to be a strong debut. I approached this book as part of my reading the Baileys Women's Prize for Fiction longlist nominees project, and this is definitely an interesting contender (winner announced 08 June). I do often wonder how reading a book in the context of an award nomination skews the experience... but I also discover some great books along the way. Rochester's novel was also included on the 3 book shortlist for the UK's Desmond Elliott Prize - a £10,000 award for first-time novelists. The award will be presented on 22 June.
Rochester has an engaging, smart style so I look forward to reading more from her in the future.
This was an interesting family dynamic, and at the center of it- the mess left behind after the siblings (Morwenna and Corwin) father falls off a cliff isn't brought to light until they return home to face the past. The brother and sister's relationship alienates even their own mother, afterall- they are her 'cuckoo children' knocking her out of her own nest. The bond they share may also be the key to understanding the death of their father. Who is to blame? How could this have happened? I loved the eccentric grandfather- and didn't expect the ending. Enjoyable read that made me long for a place away from everything.
A man falls from a high point into the sea and is lost. I am reminded of the myth of Icarus, the son of Daedalus, who on his way to freedom flew too close to the sun so that its heat melted the wax holding together the feathers of his artificial wings and he fell from the heavens. Pieter Bruegel the Elder's painting on this subject famously shows his fall as unnoticed by ordinary people such as a ploughman, a shepherd and an angler.
But when John Venton falls off a cliff somewhere facing the North Atlantic on the southwestern peninsula of England his absence is very definitely noticed by his family -- by his wife Valerie, by his twin children Morwenna and Corwin, by his father Matthew -- and by his friend Bob, who was too drunk at the time to notice what happened. The impact that this disappearance (no body is ever found) has on the evidently dysfunctional family is far-reaching, stretching years into the future; and the time comes when the twins, who were of school-leaving age when their father disappeared, start to question the received wisdom.
Julia Rochester's debut novel is a real corker. The narrator is Morwenna who certainly doesn't suffer fools gladly. She goes to work as a bookbinder in London, while her brother Corwin travels the world to work on projects helping local communities. John's wife remarries John's best friend Bob and moves out of the family home (Thornton: a memory of Brontë's Thornfield Hall, perhaps?) leaving John's father Matthew to manage on his own. Morwenna's eccentric grandfather has been painting a giant map of the area with Thornton at its centre: the six-by-six-foot canvas is based on a circular area with a radius of twelve miles. Imagine something like the Hereford Cathedral Mappa Mundi, complete with "wandering saints and wronged women and poet priests; its contradictory seasons, snowdrops and roses, fruit and blossom, spring cubs and autumn hunters." It is this map that dominates the narrative as much as the outside landscape, against which all the drama takes place and which provides the final clue that precipitates the denouement.
John Venton is likened to Sir Galahad, but like that pure, idealised Arthurian knight he is a bit of an enigma. What really motivates him, and how is it that he could be so careless on that fateful night? Galahad is known as the figure who went in quest of the Holy Grail, but for the Venton siblings their quest -- over seventeen years and more -- is to find out what happened to their father. When Corwin eventually gets 'compassion fatigue' in his career and Morwenna virtually engineers a failed relationship we realise that they and the other participants are really searching for love: whether parent-child, sister-brother or husband-wife we know that the task will be long and arduous and that some will never succeed.
Julia Rochester's characters are so well-drawn that we feel they could be real -- believable humans with gentleness and talents, but also fierceness and foibles. Spiky Morwenna is too often superficial, just as she binds books without any curiosity about their contents; but she is not afraid to speak her mind. Corwin appears to exhibit strength of character by helping the disadvantaged around the work but, when it comes to facing his demons, his courage fails him; yet he worries away at things like a terrier with a rabbit. Matthew, rather like his missing son, retreats into his own inner world as those on the autistic spectrum often do; and yet he has the artistic talent to recreate that world in a masterpiece that is his consuming obsession.
Like the sea and the land which bisect the map that Matthew makes, everyone is composed of near equal parts of strengths and weaknesses; in common with this house at the edge of the world they too face the inscrutable ocean, but are confined -- whether they like it or not -- to the land. As the Robert Frost poem that prefaces the novel has it, "The people along the sand | All turn and look one way. | They turn their back on the land. | They look at the sea all day." Being unable to fathom its depths doesn't stop these people watching, watching, watching.
Like all good stories The House at the Edge of the World has this quality: the ability to get under the skin. The reader may wonder whether, after the watery baptism that opens the book, the main protagonists are ever going to make new lives -- and new loves -- for themselves; for their sakes we may certainly hope so. Ubi caritas? Will they ever find it?
Look, I don't know if it was my childhood obsession with Sweet Valley in its many incarnations - Kids, Twins, High, University - but I've always loved a book about twins. In fact, when you look at it on paper, this should absolutely be an Amy book, through and through. It's got so many tropes that I love in a book - those twins are just for starters. It's partly set in London, something I always find amusing as I live here. The rest of the book is set in the middle of nowhere, something I enjoy even more. And it even has a wonderfully prickly unlikable female narrator. (Yes! I love an unlikable woman. Take that, patriarchy!)
And - and this is probably the biggest and - it has a house that's a character in the book. You know what I mean. I especially like them when they're inherited mansions of the bohemian ex-rich, crumbling into ruins. Like either of the castles - I Capture the Castle or We Have Always Lived in the Castle. Or The Poison Tree. Or like Sarah Water's in The Little Stranger (um, not that I liked that one.) Or like The Royal Tenenbaums, of course. Anyway - you get the idea.
So. This book. This book that I'm actually reviewing. The twins father dies in an accident - or so they assume at the time - drunkenly falling off the cliff he's lived on all his life. All his life, you say? How very suspicious. Years later, Morwenna has slowly made a small life for herself in London while her brother Corwin has travelled the most war torn bits of the big old world. When their beloved grandfather Matthew falls ill and the twins return to their childhood home, Corwin starts asking questions, both about their father's death and the map that their Matthew has devoted his life to.
OK, I might even be approaching a point here. Is this book good? Yes, yes - it's good. It's quite quiet. It's dry, but I mean that like in 'dry wit' rather than that boring type of dry. It's dark, like I was expecting, and oddly funny, like I wasn't. It is kind of pretentious but I'm not saying that like it's a bad thing.
It's especially good if you are quite ok - and I know that not everyone is - with reading a book and not liking a single one of the characters very much. (I can hear you in the cheap seats shouting "WHAT ABOUT MATTHEW" so, sure, sure. Except for Matthew. But that's about it.)
Would I have given it the Booker prize? Well, no. No, I wouldn't. But I did like that the people in this book sometimes do stupid things that felt very real, like the very stupid things people do in our very real lives.
Morwenna and Corwin are twins. Their upbringing is somewhat eccentric and when their father falls over the edge of a cliff while drunk their childhood comes to an end. It is only later that they start asking questions about his death. The twins leave their cliff top house to follow their own routes in life but something draws them back to the house and their grandfather Matthew's life's work - an illustrated map showing events in the family's life.
Can both Corwin and Morwenna reconcile their father's death and move on to make something of their own lives? Or will his ignominious end haunt them until the end of their days? The book is narrated by Morwenna and unfortunately I didn't really take to her which rather spoiled the story for me. It is an interesting story and there a lot of ambiguities in all the relationships depicted in it. The reader does not know whether Morwenna is a reliable narrator but they may draw their own conclusions.
I thought the book was very atmospheric and I found some passages did have an impact on me but the characters were not terribly likeable apart from Matthew. I would have liked to have known more about him but he remained something of an enigma. This is an interesting book and I'm sure many will enjoy it more than I did. I received a free copy from NetGalley for review.
When I first started university I developed a real George Orwell fixation after discovering his writing encompassed so much more than his most famous novels “1984” and “Animal Farm”. I read through all his major publications in order and a favourite novel was “Keep the Aspidistra Flying”. This is the perfect book for cynical young adults who value high literature above all else and are frustrated by our money-obsessed society. Therefore, it’s not surprising that the group of rebellious young friends in Julia Rochester’s “The House at the Edge of the World” take this novel as their bible. The narrator Morwenna Venton and her twin brother Corwin come from a family that historically owned lots of land in their remote corner of England, but over the years it was sold off piece by piece until the family was left to subsist in a large house on a square of land near the ocean. The twins and their circle of friends plan to live lives of high ideals, but their reality is shaken when late one evening the Venton twins’ father John falls off a cliff while drunkenly pissing over the edge. The group becomes fractured and they settle into lives far different from the ones they dreamed about.
A beautifully written tale of twins Morwenna and Corwin who have had to carve out lives for themselves after their father fell off a cliff while drunk shortly after their 18th birthdays. Morwenna becomes a book binder in London while Corwin disappears to Africa doing humanitarian work. The mystery begins after Corwin returns to their childhood home after 15 years away and casts doubt on the way their father died.
Often humorous, the characters are all well-drawn and the reader is drawn into their world which is vividly portrayed. The tension amplifies considerably towards the climax culminating in a satisfying resolution. One of the better books I have read this year.
The House at the Edge of the World is the story of what happens when a hippy father falls off a cliff and dies one summer night. Following his death his father, wife and children must find a way to share their tumble down house together and, ultimately, they're all unable to do so.
Honestly I found this story a little self indulgent in many ways. The the mother, daughter and son are all really wound up in their own worlds. I suppose that's the point but it left me feeling a bit flat.
Valarie, bored mother, desperate housewife, just wants to update the house and isn't allowed. She feels tricked in to living there and tricked in to having her 'cuckoo children'. Frankly I'm not surprised her kids don't like her when she talks about them as if they deliberately ruined her life. Despite feeling slightly sorry for her, being a renter I too am not allowed to change anything, I found her treatment of motherhood to be more cruel than honest. I'm sure mother's do feel taken over by their children some times, but it's not right to say this directly to them!
Morwenna and Corwyn are the twin cuckoo children who spend a lot of time holed up together on the beach in their cabin or hiding from their bickering parents. Again there's an element of sympathy, but they both seem to paint an image of themselves as interestingly arty and helpful people. Corwyn does admit that his 'helpfullness' has become a problem for him in his work and that passage typifies their characters: try hard.
The only character I really liked was Matthew, the grandfather, he bakes bread, he draws pictures, he's kind and loving. I expected, from the blurb, for this to be his story about how he creates his map with the other characters popping in and out. Unfortunately not, but he is a memorable and lovely character.
The plot takes a LONG time to do anything, it's mostly about Morwenna and Corwyn growing up and being apart before getting down to the nitty gritty of why their dad died very much towards the end.
Perhaps I had the wrong expectations, perhaps everyone in this family is horrible. I wouldn't stay totally clear but it didn't rock my world.
There are little bits of countryside magic woven into this and I do really enjoy the concept of Matthew and his painting, he's an interesting character. However these are probably the only things I enjoyed about the book.
The main character is unbearable. There's nothing to her but malice, snide and sarcasm. Every comment she makes is rude and scathing, which is draining to have as a constant while she interacts with other characters to progress the story.
There's no character development for her at all and that's almost preferable to me because usually characters like these begin to change in the last 10% and suddenly get what they want because they're magically better now, and I'm glad that didn't happen here.
The plot does get interesting and I admit I did finally want to keep reading and find out what was going to happen later on in the book but again it was marred by the main character and her cynicism. A story told through the lens of such an unpleasant person is a chore.
I thought this would be about family and it was to an extent but with dysfunctionality taken to an extreme. The characters in the family are either horrible, off in their own world or both. There wasn't really anyone I was rooting for.
As a whole this book is depressing. It's full of disconnect and darkness which don't make for an enjoyable read. I wouldn't recommend it.
The House at the Edge of the World is a story about a family turned inside out when the father John falls off a cliff while walking home from the pub.
It's told by Morwenna, one of John's twin children. She is a spiky, complex character who rarely thinks before she speaks, frequently upsetting her friends and family with her blunt tactlessness. Her relationship with her twin, Corwin, is equally complicated - they love each with the self-obsessed ferocity of twins, yet their relationship is so intense, their love often comes close to hate.
Matthew, their grandfather (and John's son) attempted and failed to leave the Devon village the family has called home for generations when he was a young man. Since then, his life's work has been a painting of his domain, carefully crafted onto an Ordnance Survey map of the area. This map, and the twins' deciphering of the stories it contains captivated me.
This is a fantastic family drama. All the characters are exceptionally well-realised - they are selfish, loving, bitter, cross, argumentative, forgiving and generous - just like real people. And the story is spellbinding - but then I'm a sucker for a book about a map.
A surprisingly dark look at the emotional damage that can be caused by family life. This book has some incredibly vivid depictions of teenage life in the West Country, which really draw you into this story. I have to admit that I became so lost in these gorgeous images that I almost didn't see the darker aspects creeping into the story. This story has wonderful characters Matthew is particularly lovely. Growing up in Cornwall I'm pretty sure that I met a fair few of these wonderfully drawn individuals around the village, it is clear from the brilliant detail that the author grew up in the rural west country. The most wonderful concept of all is Matthew's map, a painting that charts the local and personal history of Thornton with all it's myths, legends and histories. The idea of this is something like a modern day Mappa Mundi, showing time and place, fact and fiction all layered onto each other. This is an integral part of the plot, providing hidden meanings to events that the twins have lived through.
I enjoyed this book. Well written and engaging. The character of Morwenna was called a bitch so many times. It was said she'd always been a bitch. I failed to see that she was so bitchy. Maybe the author failed to provide the proper background, or maybe I'm a bitch myself so I saw nothing wrong with her actions aside from some comments she should have kept to herself out of kindness for others. Some part of me cheered her on for those comments though. I liked the idea of Matthew's map. And who doesn't dream of this answer to your life?
I almost gave this book five stars and I do not do that lightly. I found the book well written, dryly witty in a way that made me laugh and a compelling read. The characters are believable and I related to them all but especially Morwenna. The plot was interesting, finely drawn and unpredictable. The descriptions were often almost poetic. It is one of the best books I have read in awhile. I received a free copy from NetGalley for review.
I bought this because I was writing a book set in Cornwall and wanted to see how the author dealt with it. I'm so glad I did. The tale is moving and engaging, and like all the characters, I fell in love with Corwin. Excellent twist and satisfying conclusion. There were also a couple of phrases that were worth the price alone.
Beautiful prose, vivid storytelling, captivating narrative. I would have liked to give it 4 stars and was genuinely torn. In the end, though, it didn't punch me in the gut. The main characters were not fleshed out well enough for me. I had no empathy where I really felt I should have *some* feeling for them. If I could give it 3.5, I would.
Just couldn't get into this book did not like the protagonist couldn't care less what happened to any of them & shocked 😳 it's been rated so highly but hey that's personal taste for you. Very disappointed I wasted £14.99 on this !! Off to the charity shop it goes !
This was one of those books that I appreciated rather than enjoyed. It definitely contains some great moments that are full of deep meanings and powerful themes, but on the whole, it falls short on too many of the key aspects that need to come together in order to make an outstanding read.
To begin with, it was a very slow burner and I found it a challenge to stay engaged early on. Indeed, the story only gets going in the second half of the book, where the central mystery is finally established and it suddenly becomes a lot more interesting. The final chapters had me genuinely intrigued, but all of this happens much too late!
The pace was a bit of a problem for me all the way through. The inconsistency of it sometimes took me by surprise! There were times, especially early in the book, where it was exceedingly slow-moving, and others where it just seemed to zoom forward as Morwenna and Corwin unravelled their family mystery.
The most noticeable thing about this book is the writing style. It is very literary and often reads like a 19th century novel. This had its pros and cons. There were a number of meaningful passages dotted around throughout, and it certainly helped add to the atmosphere, providing a sense of escapism.
However, the main issue I had with the writing style was that it was occasionally convoluted and got in the way of the plot. This book actually had a pretty good plot, but it was almost like the writing style was sometimes concealing it. Here is an example:
"Indulging in the sensation of insubstantiality, of transparency, I wandered aimlessly, imagining my real self underground, richly mouldering."
There were a lot of sentences like this, and although I admire the level of thought that went into these passages, I would have preferred it to be more concise. Like I say, the plot is quite strong and contains several good ideas, but it just feels like a laborious journey for it all to fall into place.
Some powerful themes are touched upon, and it was done with a level of subtlety which I quite liked, even though I thought a couple of issues could have been explored a little bit more. The characters were fascinating and complex; if only some of them were more well-developed.
Morwenna is the narrator. She is not totally likeable, but I was taken by her relationships with the other characters, particularly Corwin. The way they work together and communicate while uncovering the mystery is one of my favourite things about the book.
Overall, I might have loved this book if the story was told a little differently and had not begun so slowly. The plot, the themes, and the characters were all very interesting, but the pace was flawed and the writing style was disengaging and just not really to my taste.
I had heard a lot about this book and I randomly chose it from a list on my Kindle after finishing another book pretty quickly. I had totally forgotten what this book was about, so I just jumped right in with no real expectations.
The story starts with John Venter falling from a cliff in Devon as he drunkenly makes his way home from the pub one night. His body was never found and we then follow how his family are left to pick up the pieces and live the rest of their lives.
The story is told mainly from the point of Morwenna and Corwen, the teenage twins who struggle to come to terms with their fathers death. They have a rather eccentric Grandfather, Matthew, who has spent most of the later part of his life painting a map of the surrounding area. This map is the key to the area's history and holds the answers to the inevitable questions that Corwen and Morwenna ask, but only if you know how to decipher the map.
The characters is this book were ‘interesting’. They were not particularly likable and actually, Morwenna was really hard to like; she is prickly, vindictive, nasty, sarcastic and argues with everyone. She is exhausting. Her relationship with Corwen felt weird to me, although I am not a twin, so maybe this is normal for twins. The plot and situation was strange and the eventual outcome was slow and disappointing. The only character I really liked was Matthew and I enjoyed scenes that he was in.
I can see that this is a great family drama, the story had potential and the language and flow of the writing was good. I enjoyed reading the book, even if I didn’t like all the characters and found the story a it slow i places. I would probably read another book by Julia Rochester but I am a bit lost as to all the hype surrounding this one.
one of my favourite things about this book is that the main characters are flawed. they are so flawed that they come dangerously close to being impossible to like, but their flaws also give them that aspect of humanity so desperately needed for a good book. secondly, the intertwining of the two siblings' lives is extremely well done. i really liked this book overall, definitely kept me interested. it wasn't perfect, but it did a great job of portraying family life with just enough drama to hook you in, and just enough mundanity to seem believable.
The prologue intrigued me and seemed to set a tone maybe about what is real and what is imagined. In the main the story is about Morwenna and her twin brother and the death of their father. Their lives and the lives of others, family and friends, are seen in part through a lens that concerns the north Devon coast town where they lived as had some generations of their family. I loved the richness of the writing as well as that of quite a number of the characters. There is a sharp and poignant (pointed at times) humour running through this book despite the fact that much of it is about loss.
I confess at times I found this tale rather disconcerting. Morwenna's character is very well written indeed and the basic story idea is very good with some deep and powerful undertones to it. I enjoyed reading this book a lot and I am fairly sure it will remain in my memory for quite some time as a good book however I do hope the author will forgive if I say that I didn't actually like Morwenna (and her twin brother I liked even less) but the story is good and, probably, the characters were as they needed to be for the story to work. I'd certainly recommend the book to anyone who finds the blurb appealing, it is good and original to me. I would definitely like to read another book by Julia Rochester
Disclosure - I received an advance copy of this book from the publisher.
Family life centred around a house in the West Country. The grandfather hasn’t moved more than 12 miles away for 50-odd years, and devotes his life to painting a map of the area. The parents have a difficult marriage, and twins, who are very close - too close? - to one another. The novel really starts when the father appears to slip to his death from a cliff. The novel is narrated from the perspective of Morwenna, the female twin, as she talks about her life at home, and once she has left. Some years later, her twin Corwin suggests that her father may in fact still be alive, and the two of them find themselves unable to leave this idea alone. It is a strange story and the central characters are somewhat self-indulgent, but it is quite an interesting read.