Land by Maggie O’Farrell

There is no better character to build a book titled Land around than a surveyor. Land continues on through the ages even though it may ultimately erode or metamorphose. O’Farrell’s book is a lyrical, historical, masterpiece that also captures the mysticism or magic that so frequently populates the new fiction shelves at your local library today.

So, once upon a time, there was a mystical spring in a copse. It was found by a prehistoric woman whose remains still lie there. Thousands of years later, Tomas a surveyor has a wife (Fina), a son (Liam), two sisters (Rose and Enda), and a strange mute brother (Eugene). He and his family find, drink, and are altered by this hallowed watery spot over time. In between this central story, O’Farrell jumps back and forth in time. There are sections dealing with prehistoric peoples, ancient Vikings, and Romans, but always we come back to the lives of the surveyor and his brood in the 1860’s just after “the great hunger” has devastated Ireland and its people.

 The lushness of O’Farrell’s language, much evident in her earlier novel Hamnet, will capture you. Consider her evocative sound and sight images. “Liam at a distance hears first the sound of the family dog barking. Then he hears the sound of his sister’s fiddle and can picture her in the lee at the cottage’s end, giving him a tune to send him on his way.”  Or consider the absence of sound as in “There is a thick febrile silence throughout the house.”  In another place, she encapsulates both the time, the sight, and the silence. “Later, when darkness has wrapped itself around the peninsula like a cat settling into sleep.” You can see it and feel it.

Liam, the son of the surveyor, pulls away from his family to become a priest and then loses his faith. How is it described? “Liam felt his faith loosening in its foundations, like an unsound tooth.” Much later, when he returns to his family home, there is a long passage that shifts your perspective to what a skylark might see as she cruises above the land. “The skylark passes unseen, directly over his head, and to her, his thoughts are a tangible line rising from his cranium, like steam: she flies right through them, she pierces the nimbus of his ruminations as a needle passes through cloth.” In other parts of the book, she shifts the narrative perspective to that of a dog or a baby in the womb.

No, this is not an easy read. O’Farrell’s vocabulary is challenging. The time and space shifts abound, the narrative perspectives change, and sophisticated images meet you on almost every page. You may need to keep your dictionary at hand while reading, but ultimately The Land won me over, and I think it will win you over too.

I give it a 5 out of 5.