Black Dove

by Colin McAdam

“I have long been convinced that Colin McAdam is a literary genius. What’s extraordinary is that each of the books he writes is a totally distinct type of genius. Every time. He’s in a league of his own.” —Max Porter, author of Grief Is the Thing with Feathers From Giller Prize finalist Colin McAdam, a chilling tale of a grieving novelist and his son who fall sway to a twilit world of desperate wanderers, mad geneticists, and noble, dangerous beasts. In a tall and narrow house, on a stained and busy street, live twelve-year-old Oliver and his father, a story-loving writer. Haunted by the ghost of his alcoholic mother, Oliver finds comfort in his father’s impromptu the Black Dove, an elusive flower that gives strength; the girl who consumes it as she battles attackers and yearns for happier realms. Stories where lonely souls keep searching despite their losses and grief. Running from a bully one night, Oliver finds refuge in a junk shop owned by an enigmatic man. Soon, instead of hiding in the janitor’s closet after school, Oliver spends afternoons in the shop, a cavernous place full of storied oddities and grubby wonders where creatures rise up from the basement. A snake in the shape of a boy. A hunter named Night, part panther, part hound, who proves to Oliver that the world holds invisible wonder. Wanting to forget his mother, afraid of his own genes, constantly harassed by bullies, Oliver decides to follow the shop-owner down the path of genetic editing. As he begins his transformation he meets the girl from across the street, and their friendship grows in a neighbourhood where magic is real, where murderers gather, and where the darker consequences of fantasies play out. A twisting story of grief and revenge, Black Dove is a thrilling read with its own kind of magic. In rich but tightly reined prose, McAdam celebrates the value and shortfalls of storytelling, finding a light in all the darkness to conjure a tender portrait of childhood’s end.

Genres: Fantasy, Horror, Fiction, Science Fiction, Canada, Magical Realism, Adult Fiction

328 pages, Hardcover

First published September 27, 2022

About the author

Colin McAdam was born in Hong Kong and grew up in Denmark, England and Barbados, as well as in several cities in Canada. He studied English and Classics at McGill University and the University of Toronto, and received his PhD in English Literature from Cambridge University in England.

He has written for Harper's Magazine and The Walrus. He lives in Montreal and has a son named Charlie who lives in Australia.

His first novel SOME GREAT THING won the Books in Canada / Amazon.ca First Novel Award and was a finalist for the Governor General's Literary Award for Fiction, the Rogers Writers' Trust Fiction Prize, the Commonwealth Writers Prize (Best First Book), and the John Llewellyn Rhys Prize in the UK.

His second novel FALL was published in 2009

Reviews

[NILTON TEIXEIRA · Rating 4 out of 5]

I was so attracted by the cover of this book that I couldn’t simply resist, and I had to get a copy. And I have no regrets for prioritizing this read.
This is a twisting story of grief and revenge.
A reviewer said perfectly: “a tale so tender and at the same time terrifying”.
The eerie atmosphere throughout the book is amazing!
I do suggest reading this book in a completely quiet environment.
The development of the storyline is slow, but the writing is gripping. The tone is very somber, sad and dark, but I was hooked.
Actually, I was mesmerized by the writing, even though sometimes I did not know were I was or what was happening. I even thought that the storytelling lacked some clarity, but at the end, everything made sense.
The conclusion was not what I wanted, as I saw it as an “easy way out”, but I totally accept.
The setting is Toronto, my home town, and I enjoyed “walking” some familiar streets.

[Krista · Rating 4 out of 5]

“The most powerful flower of all, the rarest, most dangerous plant ever studied, was this first flower that I’m telling you about. Two of its petals rise like wings whenever night falls. It is the most dangerous because it makes whoever finds it unimaginably strong. It takes away fear. If you can find the flower, you can do anything you want.”
“What’s it called?” asked Oliver, with his eyes closed.
“The Black Dove,” said his dad.

I felt compellingly wrongfooted throughout Black Dove: Particularly early on, I rarely understood what was meant to be actually happening to the characters and what was in-novel storytelling — but every time I lost my footing, author Colin McAdam presented a fingerhold with just enough meaning for me to grasp and carry on. Focussed primarily on a sad twelve-year-old boy (and his well-meaning writer father), this is no Early Reader coming-of-age novel: With monsters and bullies and abusive parents, the storyline can be bloody and gruesome. But still, the uncertainty and danger and sadness of this narrative perfectly captures something of what it is to be twelve; what it is to be the parent of a sad twelve-year-old boy, trying (maybe not successfully) to prove you understand him; that you remember what it’s like to stand at that cliffedge. The language is vivid and slightly off somehow (but compellingly so; I needed to make meaning), the plot is fantastical but rooted in the muck of our own world, and the characters are like to break one’s heart: What more could a reader possibly ask for? I went into this not knowing anything about the plot and I’d urge other readers to do the same with the assurance that it all comes together in the end. (Note: I read an ARC through NetGalley and passages quoted may not be in their final forms.)

His father spent the morning writing. Half-built scenes and old yearnings. A sense of fear creeping in more these days. Paying the bills, the world moving on from the aesthetic he was raised in, organs quietly aging. Still such a fire in him, but burning on what. He wrote every day the way kids sing in the dark to keep their fears quiet. It’s not real singing.

Oliver’s mother had been a mean drunk, and after she left, it was just him and his Dad living alone “in a tall and narrow old house on a stained and busy street” (I did love all of the recognisably Toronto references). When Oliver’s father’s writing was going well, he rarely acknowledged what was going on outside his study, so he failed to notice when his son — younger and smaller than the other boys in his class after skipping a grade, wearing uncool clothing, and bearing the shame of his mother’s reputation — had become the target of school bullies. Running from these boys one afternoon, Oliver ducked into a shabby-looking bric-a-brac shop and met its curious proprietor: Allele Princeps, survivor of a tragic childhood and current mad scientist attempting to create, essentially, an unhurtable human:

And when you walk through gardens that get heavier, swollen and corrupt, when flies walk over eyelids and the fruit starts dripping its own wine, when the mould sets in and you move to drier edges, getting pushed now at your backs to where the grass has burned and dust gets into lungs, jackals and a soldiery of vultures will stir and chatter, hybrid beasts will thrive beneath a viral sky and he will be watching, crouching, staring with the wisdom of a widow, the perfect boy.

I’m going to put my next comments behind spoiler tags (because I really don’t want to spoil anything). Like I wrote above, I was so wrongfooted from the start: We understand that Oliver’s dad often tells him a bedtime story — the story of the “Black Dove” is obviously meant as a metaphor for their situation but he also tries out plots from his writing on the boy — but I was never certain what was meant to be happening, and what was from the dad’s writing. When I first read about Amon — the boy who can kill with a touch — I assumed that wasn’t meant to be “reality”, until it was (until it wasn’t), and I did like that uncertainty; what’s more uncertain than being twelve and thinking you understand how the world works and the world keeps proving you wrong? Oliver’s body changing from Principe’s gene-editing is, I suppose, plausible, (but even in the moment it read as comic book wish fulfilment; which is credible for the character). But what I didn’t find acceptable was the slate of unfleshed/absent female characters: Both Oliver’s and Principe’s mothers were cruelly abusive (which makes sense if Principe is an avatar of Oliver in his father’s story), the bullies make their fathers into characters by talking about them (the mothers are barely mentioned), the female gym teacher is a flake, but worst of all is poor Suzi: treated like Bella out of Twilight or something, she’s frightened and faintly disgusted by Oliver when they first meet but his electric touch makes her overcome her hesitation and be the understanding nonmutant who can’t help but stand by her inhuman man. The “romance” between the pair is absolutely appropriate for a pair of twelve-year-olds, but I did not like her position in the relationship and it highlighted for me just how secondary the female characters were to the story. However, I did ultimately appreciate how McAdam tied up all the stories-within-a-story, writer-using-the-tools-he-has-to-save-his-sad-son. In the end we learn the hard lesson: Sometimes you will be sad and need to learn to work your way through it; maybe stories can help with that.

We are animals and we will die, and in the journey of each animal is some small triumph or a path surprising and if all we can do is celebrate and sing our struggles in the dust, our fights and wants and eyes so pretty they cannot simply be eyes, then that will be music enough.

I do hope I’ve given enough of the flavour of the vivid and off-kilter writing here: McAdam has a strong and unique voice, and he uses it compellingly to say something important. And now I want to go out and find his backlist.

[Danielle · Rating 1 out of 5]

I’d have enjoyed reading the ingredients from a loaf of bread more than I did reading this book.

[Natalie Liogas · Rating 3 out of 5]

I have never said "wtf" so much when reading anything before. 3 stars for now because I'm not sure if I loved this or hated it yet.

[Morgan Tamm · Rating 3 out of 5]

Felt like Markus Zusak writing a retelling of The Island of Dr. Moreau, and the writing style didn’t always gel with me, but Colin McAdam portrays grief and the aftermath of tragedy in a way that makes you feel it in your chest.

[Ilona (Inkmates Read) · Rating 2 out of 5]

*2.5 Stars

[AXL · Rating 3 out of 5]

What a strange little book, it freaked me out but it will stay with me, in a good way.

[Janine · Rating 5 out of 5]

4.5 Very unique writing style and story. At first I wasn’t sure if I wanted to continue reading as it was a challenge to get used to his writing style and choices of words. There is a lot of parental abuse and violence both from parents and external sources. Once Oliver went to the store and Night was introduced, I was hooked. It was a page turner from then on. I had to know what would happen. I often drive through the Holland Marsh area and will never look at it the same again. This is a sad story, but I liked it very much as well as the ending. I think Stephen King and J. D. Barker would really like this book. I want to read more of his work.

[Robin Blackburn McBride · Rating 5 out of 5]

Suspense lovers!

I recommend this new novel by Colin McAdam, whose last one, A Beautiful Truth, earned the Rogers Writers’ Trust Fiction Prize.

Earlier this fall, I heard McAdam read at The Ottawa International Writers Festival and was drawn to his lyrical prose.

Set in Toronto's Junction neighbourhood, Black Dove tells the story of Oliver, a twelve-year-old boy living in the shadow of his alcoholic mother’s death.

Bullied at school and quiet at home with a father who is often writing, Oliver finds refuge in a junk shop owned by Princeps, a mysterious man offering magic. At the shop, strange creatures rise from the basement—an invisible hound who is also part panther, and a boy who is mostly a snake…

Soon Oliver learns that Princeps is able to edit genes, erasing weakness and integrating the most powerful traits of various species into beings both human and nonhuman. The man presents Oliver with the opportunity to transform. Seeking relief from suffering, the boy agrees to have his own DNA edited.

As Oliver begins to change, he meets a girl on his street and their relationship grows. Yet other forces are growing, too, as the neighbourhood begins its own weird spiral into darkness.

Black Dove is the story of a child dealing with the pain of loss and the possibility of hope. Horrifying and at times graphically violent, the novel also holds great tenderness. This book is so highly creative in concept and style that I couldn’t put it down.

[Jonathan Hawpe · Rating 4 out of 5]

Coming of age, grief, and vengeance are some of the themes threaded through Colin McAdam's darkly beautiful Black Dove. Mystery, sci-fi and gothic drama tangle with each other in this arrestingly strange tale that is something like a John Darnielle / Emily St. John Mandel team-up reinventing Ray Bradbury's Something Wicked This Way Comes.

[Mel · Rating 1 out of 5]

First, a thank you to Netgalley and the publisher for letting me read the ARC of this.

2023 is a year of radical self-love. And this includes DNF’ing what doesn’t spark joy.

This does not spark joy.

Fin.

Ps - and what a shame, as the cover is GORGEOUS.

[Dorothy · Rating 1 out of 5]

'C'NF

[Cecille Gagne · Rating 1 out of 5]

Technically did not read the whole thing. It was too crass and depressing to me. I did not relate or enjoy any parts of it. I prefer books that have more balance to them. Also getting pedophilic themes that make me uncomfortable. I would rather read something else.

[Madeline Jarvis-Cross · Rating 4 out of 5]

Started a bit slow, but after the first hundred pages, I couldn't put it down. Really unique plot and stunning prose. I loved also all of the hyper-specific Toronto references :)

[Ava Hall · Rating 4 out of 5]

I really had no idea what I was getting into with this book (I honestly picked it up from its pretty cover). I’m glad I actually went into this one blind, because WOW was I surprised.

The narrative style was so chaotic: everyone’s POV is interspersed throughout the chapters, perspectives sometimes changing after each sentence, etc. I loved it. It added a feeling of helplessness to a story about finding such rigid control. The contrast was satisfying.

For a horror-esque book, I though the most horrifying part was the lack of question marks at the end of the questions. I know it’s a stylistic choice (and I actually think it added a lot to the story), but it was strange and a little awkward to read at first. I loved how it simultaneously gave the story a feeling of finality and uncertainty. I’m not sure how that’s possible, but that’s how I felt. That said, even though it wasn’t scary, the imagery and ideas present were vivid and thought-provoking.

The characters themselves were really interesting to me. Oliver’s anger and fear was visceral and vulnerable. I thought his portrayal of bullying was unlike a lot of experiences detailed in fiction. He showed that profound sense of fear that victims face, but also that sense of relief when an event occurs. Relief because it happened; his fear was justified. It’s a cruel twist of fate and eternally screwed up, but I’ve seen it happen and I think most of us have experienced something along those lines as well. Oliver’s dad was a character that I would’ve like to see more of. His grief and need were, in a lot of ways, hidden from the reader. His emotions were more off-page than on-page. His parenting style felt a lot like absenteeism, but I think that’s for two reasons: (a) this is Oliver’s story, and (b) the whole book was a story that Oliver’s father created to teach his son about grief. I’ll get back to that point. Suzi was a character that I immediately liked. She was curious and friendly and exactly what Oliver needed. I had a terribly difficult time actually imagining the characters as 12-13 years old, especially Murdoch. His sexual innuendoes felt extremely uncomfortable coming from someone so young (as they should) and his demeanour didn’t match the idea I had in my mind. He added a lot to the story, but in a strange and unique way.

Now we get to the ending. At first it felt like such a cop-out, like a cheap trick when you’re promised something wonderful. I wasn’t necessarily promised something wonderful (like I said, I went into this book completely blind), but after writing a novel like Black Dove, how could you expect your readers to be satisfied with a conclusion like that? It runs along the same lines as an author who writes a wild and compelling tale, only to follow it up with: “and then they woke up”. There is no joy in a finale like that. At least, those were my first impressions. Then I kept reading and got to the letters Oliver’s father has written to his son and I read this:

“The novel is for me as much as for you. My portrait of twelve. My life and yours reimaginined. I don’t know if you’ll read this or even read the book when it’s done, but this is me trying to tell you something. Something that is in the book, but that I want to make clear.

It’s OK to be sad.

I know I wanted to tell you a true story that has a happy ending, and I will, I promise. But I want you to know in your heart that it’s OK sometimes not to be happy. Not to search for escape at the cost of all reason and wish that you had wings. It’s OK to know, even to focus on the fact, that you will be hurt and lose people you love, and that life will often be hard.”

After reading something so true and endearing, how could I fault McAdam for ending the story the way he did. Yes, I still feel somewhat cheated, but I also found it endearing in a totally “I-hate-how-this-is-but-I-guess-you’re-probably-right” kind of way. I’ve read so many books where this is an underlying theme, but not necessarily blatantly stated. I appreciated it because in a culture that pushes happiness and finding our “true peace”, it can feel like a fault to be sad. It can feel like failure to not be happy. I have my qualms about the ending, but the more I sit on it, the more I feel like maybe, maybe, it was the right choice. I don’t know.

I’ll be honest: this book surprised me a lot. I’ve never read a book like this and enjoyed it. But there was something compelling and mystifying and just so strange about this book that I did. I want to give it 4/5, but because of my thoughts on the ending I’ll settle for 3.75/5.

[Daniel Kuzik · Rating 5 out of 5]

I'm a big Miriam Toews fan, and when I read her thoughts on this writer I thought I'd give him a try. This is an incredible book. It's not always easy, but it is so well written that I had to put the book down sometimes. The prose is beautiful. And the relationship between Oliver and his dad is heartbreaking. I appreciate the theme that sadness is important to accept. Not easy, but important. Highly recommend.

[William · Rating 4 out of 5]

A very unique book, beautifully crafted in prose verging at times on poetry. The tale winds back and forth, at times confusingly, between fantasy and reality but it all comes nicely together in the end. On the surface, it centres on a young boy and his author father struggling in the aftermath of the death of the wife and mother. In the parallel plot line, Oliver discovers a world of fantastic beasts and violent ends, all introduced to him by a kindly, mysterious father-like figure who asked “who do you want to be?” And then sets him on a path to achieve it.
To those who abhor the violence, I would simply refer to the fairy tales of the Grimms in which children are eaten, imprisoned, abandoned and forsaken. What goes on in the minds of people dealing with fear, grief and injustice isn’t always very nice and the stories they tell to help deal with their pain are often horrifying.
Not always an easy read, in more ways than one, it is unlike anything you will likely find elsewhere, at once haunting, deeply moving and certainly challenging.

[Jon Pemberton · Rating 4 out of 5]

Great and original. You need to go into it completely blind and experience all of it. Great writing style. Understandable ending that I am okay with. This book is wild and I loved it.

[John C. A. Manley · Rating 3 out of 5]

Back in November, I wrote a review of acclaimed novelist Colin McAdam's essay (from Canary in a COVID World) in which he criticizes the liberal arts community for selling their souls to the COVID agenda.

After reading McAdam's essay, I immediately ordered his latest novel, Black Dove — a story about "genetic editing and the adventures of a grieving father and son." I had a feeling I was going to love it.

Around page 40, however, I wasn't feeling too much love. It was moving too slowly and the sentences fragments were getting on my nerves. I don't mind a sentence fragment here and there, I even use them in my novel, but this was overkill. But I always give a book until page 50. And by page 50 the story turned in a direction that kept me turning pages.

Fragment sentences aside, McAdam makes up for the grammatical homicides with some rich prose such as:

"Sometimes he stared at the words he wrote, like meaningless marks. How do they go from letters to meaning to story? Abracadabra comes from the Aramaic: I create as I speak. Letters are a conjuring. Mystics making monsters from incantations."

The story is about a boy who has lost his mother and is being raised by his father who is a novelist. Since I am a widowed novelist raising a son, I thought it would be a good story for us to read together.

Jonah, however, didn't agree. Even beyond page 50, he was trying to convince me to shelve the book. But by page 100, he was hooked and wanted to know the end.

So we endured — as another gem in the book expressed:

"Positivity. Endurance. What makes one person thrive and another fail? I know exactly where sadness lives. That place where you give up, forget how to fight."

My son also enjoyed the sci-fi fantasy aspect of it — as the youngster in the story undergoes genetic engineering to make himself superhuman. In addition to editing his genes, the mad scientist also replaces his under performing gut and skin bacteria:

"They were getting rid of his old microbes, the world of tiny animals that lived on his skin and in his gut. They thrived on him being exactly who he was, their genes telling him to keep up his routines, do the wrong things, give up when something felt too hard."

Horrifically, the gene editing involved mixing animal and human DNA, breeding some rather dark characters that feast on the internal organs of the residents around High Park in Toronto (which is where my wife and I used to live). The villain describes his genocidal goals as such:

"'He knew, they all know, that I have given them the hunger for others that I have given to all the beasts. The need to eat that will ensure that the mess of the past will be swallowed.'

"He stopped there in the woods and said, 'If everything eats everything else, what will be left?'

"'The best,' I said."

Survival of the fittest cannibal theme aside, the reoccurring message about facing nihilism was what kept me reading:

"Reduce the world to ash and try to find the beauty in the bleakness. Tell yourself that you can't bear another loss, sing that pain, and find yourself losing again, still singing, until your lips are thin then gone and the world is truly empty, skeletons lying sere in an asthmatic wind, and you still, lying among them, hope the wind will sing through the holes in you. Truth is found in the dark places, the darkness resides not in its discovery but in the effort to avoid it. So you lie there as a skeleton among the others, enlightened."

The story's climax was quite satisfying, if not happy. The epilogue, however, sort of unwound the entire story and felt like a letdown at first, even if it did provide a happy conclusion. But having had time for the novel to settle in my gut, I've come to appreciate the ending, which was really a beginning.

The story is about not trying to escape pain and sadness. As the widowed father tells his motherless son near the end of this urban fantasy:

"I know I wanted to tell you a true story that has a happy ending, and I will, I promise. But I want you to know in your heart that it's OK sometimes not to be happy. Not to search for escape at the cost of all reason and wish that you had wings. It's OK to know, even to focus on the fact, that you will be hurt and lose people you love, and that life will often be hard."

It's a dark story, that gets darker but ends with the darkness being shattered by a ray of sunshine. It wasn't always an enjoyable read, but it was a rewarding one. As the author writes:

"Do difficult things and learn the sad histories. Look at your demons in stories and you will be strong for it. Stronger than anyone who cannot face those truths."

(To read my review of Colin McAdam's essay from Canary in a COVID World head on over here: https://blazingpinecone.com/news/2023/11/25/)

[Lisa · Rating 2 out of 5]

Read the opening chapters with interest, and found myself rooting for Oliver from the outset -- a beautifully developed character through the first 3/4 of the book.

For me however, that was the only bright spot in this dark, oozing, romp through humanity's basest taste for revenge. I often wondered while reading, if I was falling short of appreciating McAdam's imagination -- not sure if I'm a fantasy / sci-fi person. But generally I love any type of book, so I'm not sure that's it.

I found myself despairing at the message that violence can be justified in the name of revenge, even though it is an interesting concept to explore. I just don't think McAdam succeeded in inviting the reader to contemplate that question. There was too much oozing, slaughtering, and fang-licking to ever have the chance, while Oliver's foils & friends were too one-dimensional to challenge the reader's sense of how moral compasses might exist relative to each other.

Stylistically I struggled with the syntax and lack of flow -- it is abrupt -- perhaps an apt reflection of the brutality of the story? It just wasn't for me, and I think so many contemporary novels use it to shock with frankness, but end up just being choppy. I wondered if flowing prose might have been a nice juxtaposition for the violence of the story instead. Just found it repetitive (McAdam has a fascination with moulting for both humans and snakes) and agitating, and the writing style was distracting.

Admittedly I skimmed the last 25 pages -- I'd lost patience with the mess of carcasses and dead people I'd lost track of, and the stop-start of italic explanations, mini chapters stop-starts didn't help with the confusion. Admittedly, I'd lost interest in Oliver, since the original spirit of his character was so diluted with physical transformation details by the end, there wasn't any continuity with his vulnerability of the start. I think some thread of recognition of the original character is necessary to make the contemplation of the act of revenge interesting.

Writing this, I'm thinking that McAdam is more taken with physical transformation and its affect than humanity and motivation -- the latter is more interesting to me.

So if physical transformation and fantasy is your thing -- this book is for you!

[D · Rating 5 out of 5]

This was such tender and delicate story telling of grief and hope. I don’t understand the other reviews claiming this book was too crass or vulgar. I feel like I’ll hold this book close for a long time.

There are many aspects in this book I could compare to my own childhood and many prose that really struck a special heartstring.

The description of his wife’s anxiety was short and simple, yet it could tell the entire store of someone who suffers with anxiety. Page 58, “Anxious and always thinking, right there physically but her head somewhere else, worse as the nights progressed… the look of someone always wondering what was beyond the rise.”

I loved the metaphor between the black dove flower and what I assume is the alcohol bottle as well as the metaphor between Oliver’s Suzie and his own wife—how every story came full circle. One example I really enjoyed was on Page 313, “I felt like someone took her away from me. —an arrow out of nowhere, taking my love away.”

In a lot of ways Oliver reminded me of Anne Carson’s Geryon from Autobiography of Red.

For me this book felt like a long, warm hug. I loved this book.

[Megan Noh · Rating 5 out of 5]

When I saw this quote by Helen Macdonald, I knew I had to read Black Dove:

“Black Dove is an eerie, unsettling, fabulous book. McAdam leads the reader through quotidian and mythical realms with absolute assurance. Stark and beautiful, horrifying and lyrical, its pages thrum with flight, transformation, grief, revenge, transcendence, the remorseless power of stories and the very nature of creation. Ever since reading, Black Dove has drifted in and out of my dreams.”
—Helen Macdonald, author of the New York Times bestselling H Is For Hawk

I loved H Is For Hawk, and I was interested to read something that Macdonald appreciated. I'm so glad I did. Black Dove is incredible. Dark, fun and ultimately inspiring. Sadness doesn't have to break us, it can make us stronger.

[Bobbi · Rating 2 out of 5]

I actually think two stars was overly generous. I am just too fast and loose with my stars. I hated this book. I don't know why I read it through to the end. I enjoyed small sections, or turns of phrase, it has some lovely moments of poetry- but it was macabre and weird and gross, and not in ways that I like. I only read it because I love Miriam Toews and she recommended it. How funny, and yet obvious, that works your favourite authors like to read can bear zero resemblance to their own work which you admire and devour...

Not my type of book. Will not seek out his works again. If you like creepy horror sci-fi and or excessive amounts of triggering sections about child abuse, this might be your kind of novel. Not for me.

[Mikayla McMechan · Rating 3 out of 5]

I loved the description and cover of this book. I was so excited to start reading it. That being said the writing style was quite different from what I was used to. The point of view of the story would change suddenly without any indication of the change which made the story a little more difficult to follow. I struggled to finish this book.
I did quite like the ending though and thought that it brought everything together well and had a beautiful meaning, it just took some effort to get to that point.

[Chantelle McNaught · Rating 5 out of 5]

I absolutely loved this book and would strongly recommend reading it. I will reading it again sometime. Colin's writing is poetic and breath taking. Throughout Black Dove he takes you through a journey so beautiful that you never want to put it down and as soon as you do, you want to pick it back up and start again.
He makes you feel the emotions, even when you don't want too. He makes you cringe, cry and laugh. Colin's writing is real and raw, and I believe a wide audience would love to read this book.

[Ann · Rating 3 out of 5]

(3.5)

This is one incredible story! Well-written and both tender and terrifying. I think it is the terrifying part that puts me off a little.

A boy is being bullied at school and with the help of a mad-scientist store owner goes to the absolute limit to survive the situation.

Once I got past the harrowing happenings I was relieved to absolutely love the ending.

[Jen McLeod · Rating 5 out of 5]

Not for the faint of heart. Colin McAdam confronts all a parents fears in this book and there were many times when I had to consciously choose to push forward rather than put it down forever. Black Dove will push you outside your comfort zone.

I've read a few reviews where people complain about the writing style and the prose - if you need a book to be artless and uncomplicated, this one isn't for you.

[William Foster · Rating 5 out of 5]

I loved this book. I read Some Great Thing years ago and thought it was extraordinary- full of energy and poetry. Black Dove is darker, but it's just as well written. If you like a straight-ahead narrative that doesn't throw any twists, this is probably not for you. But I love books that challenge and then reward. The ending of this one is amazing.

[Marcia · Rating 5 out of 5]

McAdam has written an enchanting work of fantasy. Set in Toronto, 12 year old Oliver is bullied at school. His father is a storyteller, a writer. He tells Oliver about the black dove, the first flower. The story continues throughout the novel. The fantasy involves gene editing and is a modern day Frankenstein.

[McKinley Bybee · Rating 3 out of 5]

This book is not what I expected. I still enjoyed reading it. It had some hard themes to grasp. I was left wondering if everything would connect in the end and it did. This was a free mystery book that came wrapped. I don’t know that I would have picked it myself, but the story was interesting and I’ve never read anything like it.