Himself

by Jess Kidd

[rohshey]

I seem to be on a kick for reading books which take place in Ireland lately. Not that I’m saying that’s a bad thing, but it’s amusing that after reading The Heart's invisible furies, my mind seemed much more well-put-together for this particular book. The two don’t share much else in common, but honestly, the charm of Irish writing is more than enough to keep me paying attention.

And Kidd definitely knows how to tell a story.

I thought this novel had all the things I like in a book such as Irish folklore, a mystery to solve, and ghosts of both people and pets. The Irish setting is original and alive with exceptionally skillful writing, with gems of phrasing on every page.

So what went wrong? As it's often happens with great story, stupid characters doing stupid shit. Like can we not have a male MC who is so “handsome” and so “flawless” that women of all ages ranging from 14 year old to 60 are ready to become his sex slave without actually giving any real insight as to what makes him so special? Also can we not have female characters whose sole purpose in the story is to pine over a dude who has no interest over her whatsoever?

Lastly, my biggest concern was combination of the lyricism and magic realism that too frequently tip over into Irish whimsy. Perhaps throwing crime, comedy and magic realism into the one novel is a combination too far.