I opened this book innocently, blissfully unaware of the avalanche of emotions careering down the hill towards me with each turn of the page. I read it almost in one sitting and would urge you to do the same if you can. Utterly absorbing, highly original, sweetly devastating.
The book opens with Isaac, a man on the edge of a precipice on the worst morning of his life. In the depths of his despair he is drawn to the woods by the sound of a scream. He discovers that the source of the sound is a two foot high, strangely anthropomorphic… egg. He takes the egg home and we live alongside the two of them as Isaac makes sense of his grief and gets to grips with life with his new companion.
I know, it’s an unusual premise, but stay with it. Fans of science-fiction may be disappointed because this is not quite the story of an alien trying to make their way home, E.T. style. It is, however, a beautiful and tragic exploration of the loneliness of grief, where no one can save you but yourself.
In his debut novel, Bobby Palmer tackles the bleakest of subjects in the most compelling way: with humour, sensitivity and hope. It is a story that my mind keeps coming back to, well after the tears I shed have dried.
