I was particularly excited to get my hands on a copy of this, as it was written by my Creative Writing lecturer from my MA at Cardiff Uni. I was also nervous, because there’s a degree of expectation for it to be textbook-perfect. I was worried I’d be so focused on technicalities that I’d be too distracted to enjoy it.
Within a chapter, though, I’d forgotten all about that. It was just really great. Set to the backdrop of Wales’ Black Mountains, it is the story of a man living alone in his late aunt’s house when a blue tent mysteriously appears in the adjoining field. From the tent appear various people the narrator needs, but doesn’t know it, and he begins to wonder who his aunt really was. It’s a shiny but rustic piece of magical realism that is weird and dreamlike in the best kind of way.
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