I did blog some months ago about not having read any book by Walter Macken. That was then.
‘Rain on the Wind’ was completed over six months ago. Like buildings needing a few years to see if they age well and blend well with their surroundings, books also, I think, need time to mellow on the brain and find a comfortable spot.
This spot may be within reach or in some deep dark closet that is soon forgotten – most novels tend to end up in such a closet. Maybe this is because or as a result of my reading generally being of non-fiction.
‘Rain on the Wind’ was a welcome break from non-fiction. I can still picture the house, the boat and nearly-dead goose. The characters and their inter-relationships are still fresh – the father-in-law who knew his place; the son who knew he was not favourite; the youth with difficulty in going beyond friendship; the long lasting school friendship – each were well captured as was the dying of a trade with introduction of technology.
It appeared to be written very much in an Irish English – as if I was reading expressions and manner of speaking almost directly translated. More descriptive. I enjoyed that.
I will never make it as a book reviewer. There are very many better suited to that task. So do not expect to see too many blogs like this.
But that is no reason not to express what was very much enjoyed – so much so that a book of short stories (part-read) and his biography are on the book shelf next to me.
If you spot it on a bookshelf looking for a home, you could do a lot worse.
“But there were her father’s eyes. Hurt in them.