This lilting poetic novel by a young Scottish writer lacks any consistent plot but makes up for it with the sometimes humorous, and sometimes profoundly deep reflections of the diverse interesting characters. They are thrown together in cottages on the edge of a Loch that may be Loc Ness or Loch Lomond on an unusually cold and rainy summer sometime in the recent past. All of them seem to be deeply disappointed by the situations they find themselves in. Even the deer, bats, and fish are disturbed by a loud nocturnal boisterous party at one of the cottages.
The title is apparently derived from an obscure dark and forlorn poem by Scottish poet Sarah Bridgin.
I may be beginning to sound like a puritan prude, but there is far more obscenity and foul language than needed, and that must turn some readers off and, at the very least, cause some adult teachers to keep it away from their young precocious readers. She observes that “The Scottish sky is better at obscenity than any human voice.” and then seems to try to outdo even the Scottish sky. One couple take ten pages to tell readers, in great detail, about how they have worked hard (forgive the pun) together to synchronize their orgasms.
Another great quote among many: “… getting married is like voting in that whatever you choose, the outcome will be at best mildly unsatisfactory four years down the line.”
A quite enjoyable short read.
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Thanks, The New Yorker.
The Passionate Reader 