This slim novel is a model of excellent, taut writing. It has the flavour, the stringency of a short story where words cannot be used lazily or with any extravagance. However, it is a novel, albeit a short one. 180 pages of intense thought; a tight story.
A work of Covid times, focusing on what it is like to be contained, to be held in. What might it do to your mind when you have nowhere to put the thoughts of your past, the worries about the future, your pain and your regrets. Talking to other people, the routine and discipline of work all absorb what we don’t wish to remember or think about. Remove that and maybe the present becomes unbearable.
Kate decides to leave the house as darkness is falling, she is breaking lockdown rules, she doesn’t tell her son, she is walking the Fell. Sarah Moss uses the device of gradually revealing Kate’s past as she at the same time moves the narrative forward. The other two main characters, Matt, the son, and Alice the elderly next door neighbour, both inevitably have problems of their own. The way we share Matt’s growing fear about his mum as it gets out of control and becomes monstrous, making no sense to him at all, is a riveting piece of writing. Somehow I found I was reading it fast. I needed to know if Kate was dead or alive. Did the rescue team find her? Somehow just as compelling was the unresolved question: what was her intention as she headed out into the dark?
This was a story I thought about for a long time afterwards. I strongly recommend it.