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Solar Bones Paperback – January 1, 2016
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ringing out over its villages and townlands,
over the fields and hills and bogs in between,
six chimes of three across a minute and a half,
a summons struck
on the lip of the void
Once a year, on All Souls’ Day, it is said in Ireland that the dead may return. Solar Bones is the story of one such visit. Marcus Conway, a middle-aged engineer, turns up one afternoon at his kitchen table and considers the events that took him away and then brought him home again.
Funny and strange, McCormack’s ambitious and other-worldly novel plays with form and defies convention. This is profound new work is by one of Ireland’s most important contemporary novelists. A beautiful and haunting elegy, this story of order and chaos, love and loss captures how minor decisions ripple into waves and test our integrity every day.
- Print length223 pages
- LanguageEnglish
- PublisherTramp Press
- Publication dateJanuary 1, 2016
- Dimensions6.14 x 0.98 x 9.17 inches
- ISBN-100992817099
- ISBN-13978-0992817091
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Product details
- Publisher : Tramp Press; First Edition, first impression. (January 1, 2016)
- Language : English
- Paperback : 223 pages
- ISBN-10 : 0992817099
- ISBN-13 : 978-0992817091
- Item Weight : 13.1 ounces
- Dimensions : 6.14 x 0.98 x 9.17 inches
- Best Sellers Rank: #3,784,553 in Books (See Top 100 in Books)
- Customer Reviews:
About the author
Mike McCormack is an award-winning novelist and short story writer from the West of Ireland. His work includes Getting it in the Head (1995), a New York Times Notable Book of the Year, Notes from a Coma (2005), shortlisted for the Irish Book of the Year Award and Forensic Songs (2012). He was awarded the Rooney Prize for Irish Literature (1996) and a Civitella Ranieri Fellowship (2007)
Solar Bones, his current novel, won the Goldsmiths Prize 2016, the BGE Irish Novel of the Year Award 2016, BGE Irish Book of the Year Award 2016 and nominated for the Man Booker Prize 2017.
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Top reviews from the United States
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For whatever reason I read this. For the first time in a long time, I was transported and deeply moved by a novel. As others have noted, it does not take a conventional narrative form. Non-traditional stylization can make for a real slog, but for me this book was hard to put down. McCormack has a breathtaking ability to convey, with a profound and highly specific tenderness, the harshness and beauties of the quotidian and, most movingly, all that meaningfully transcends it. A work of art.
this book
this book just
won the prestigious Goldsmiths Prize, given for innovation in the novel form, which is what impelled me to read it in the first place, and I sort of wish I had finished it prior to its winning, because now it will look like I am just being contrary that I really didn't like it since a lot of people did, although the main reason apparently that it won is that it is purportedly one long 223 page sentence, but
the only reason that is so is because the bloody author doesn't use proper punctuation especially eschewing periods where they actually belong, like during dialogue scenes where he just conveniently deletes them at the ends of lines, which really annoyed me, since
the lines just run on and on and on so that it is really hard to find a place to pause in one's reading, and I wasn't about to spend several hours slogging through mindnumbing repetitions in one sitting and as it was I had to constantly backtrack and re-read sections because by the time I got halfway through a thought I forgot what the hell I had been reading in the first place, although
that might have been intentional because on at least three occasions the protagonist talks about how he has been driving in a car and has gone several miles unconsciously without paying any attention to the roads and finds himself at his destination with not a clue how he got there and that is more or less how I felt reading this, which is why it took me six days to get through a relatively short book I should have been able to read in two, and also
the other noteworthy controversy about the book is that the back cover 'gives away' the fact that the protagonist, Marcus Conway, is actually dead, although we don't find that out till the final pages and whether that is something the reader should discover for themselves instead has been the subject of some discussion, but it doesn't really make a s***load of difference, because aside from the fact that the beginning of the book takes place on All Souls Day and apparently Marcus has come back to ponder his dreary life, which is something I kind of had to piece together from the fact that the beginning of the book takes place in March and the ending in November, apparently of the year before, but
then the book skips around in Conway's mind and memory so that he IS actually alive during the vast majority of the book, and it's not like the revelation he is dead CHANGES things, a la Bruce Willis in 'The Sixth Sense', and it might have been more interesting to discover that Marcus was in actuality a squirrel, or maybe a raccoon, and because what he thinks about and talks about endlessly is less than fascinating anyway, unless
one is enthralled with long descriptions of taking apart tractors or the nauseating details of a cryptosporidium epidemic with all of the concomitant talk about vomit and diarrhea, or the scintillating tension derived from whether Marcus is going to sign off on the foundation of a public building for which he is the managing engineer, that has had three different pours of concrete, so that when winter comes the foundation might crack and we get about twenty pages on that whole mess, because it is important to include one major painfully obvious symbolic metaphor, because the author is Irish after all and wants us to know he's read his Joyce and Beckett, and we get as well
the details of his daughter's kooky art installations, which were at least of minor interest to me, although not much is made of those anyway, so that you are left just going around in circles attempting to derive any importance to any of this, but then maybe it's me and I am just not clever enough to figure out the point of going on and on until, like Marcus himself I just wanted to say
stop
for the love of Jesus
stop talking
getting carried away like this on
tidal waves of nonsense
Top reviews from other countries
Marcus is an engineer in the middle years of his life, and we share with him his past, his marriage, his children (his daughter an artist of some note, his son a wayward traveler), his work, his politics, his troubles and fears, as he looks back on the noteworthy moments of his existence. Due to it's unusual style, the book fair gallops along and is hard to put down, there really are no convenient stops, it flits about in a dream like manner but never loses focus. It's absolutely compelling and at times extremely powerful, right up until the remarkable finale, a beautiful end to an extraordinary book. Superb.