...by Peter Hobbs (Faber)
In some ways I would liken this to Gilead: not a 'plot' as such, but the slow, everyday routine of a religious man, humbly told. However, where Gilead has sunshine and hope, this novel tends more towards sadness and shaken certainty.
In effect it is roughly a year in the life of a Cornish blacksmith and local Methodist preacher. I don't know Hobbs' background, but he captures remarkably well the tone and priorities of that world. Not a great deal happens really, but we see the inner workings of this simple man as he struggles with loneliness, loss, love (probably) and faith. Sentence construction is unusual - I'm not sure there is a comma in the whole book - which feels as though the narrator is writing his thoughts as they emerge from his mind without refining the punctuation.
I didn't leave the book feeling cheered, but I was impressed by Hobbs' use of language, and it was quite a relaxing read, taking on the tones and rhythms of a slower, more basic and much quieter era.
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