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A review by edmcdonald
Rawblood by Catriona Ward
5.0
As an author, it's very hard to not to read with a critical eye. You think "I would have done that differently" or "An editor should have caught that." Reading often feels like an exercise in critique.
From the very first page of RAWBLOOD, I knew that I was out of my depth.
The scent and vividness of Ward's prose takes hold from the off and clings tight until the fading of the last. She writes like a master impressionist painter, simultaneously colouring the Devon moors with subtlety, intricacy and emotion. From the moment I began reading, I felt as though my brain were floating somewhere else, slightly out of reach, lost on clouds of words so cleverly etched that they belonged in the sky. Ward's prose are scintillating; effervescent; ephemeral; the casting of dreams in words as light as cobwebs.
It takes quite a lot to frighten me in text. Ward accomplished it with incredible simplicity. Brief, fleeting clutches of daunting, blackest terror left me wondering whether I really could bear to turn out the light. Or whether *she* would be waiting for me in the darkness.
The storytelling of Rawblood is complex, deep, and spans numerous character viewpoints, each of whom tells their sad tale with a unique voice. It is a lesson for budding writers on creating character through perspective, but it is a story that requires thought, introspective consideration, patience and an ability to retain details over the length of the narrative. The payoff, when it arrives, shows just how finely woven every thread has been.
Rawblood is my book of the year for 2018. It came out before then, but that's when I read it, so yah.
From the very first page of RAWBLOOD, I knew that I was out of my depth.
The scent and vividness of Ward's prose takes hold from the off and clings tight until the fading of the last. She writes like a master impressionist painter, simultaneously colouring the Devon moors with subtlety, intricacy and emotion. From the moment I began reading, I felt as though my brain were floating somewhere else, slightly out of reach, lost on clouds of words so cleverly etched that they belonged in the sky. Ward's prose are scintillating; effervescent; ephemeral; the casting of dreams in words as light as cobwebs.
It takes quite a lot to frighten me in text. Ward accomplished it with incredible simplicity. Brief, fleeting clutches of daunting, blackest terror left me wondering whether I really could bear to turn out the light. Or whether *she* would be waiting for me in the darkness.
The storytelling of Rawblood is complex, deep, and spans numerous character viewpoints, each of whom tells their sad tale with a unique voice. It is a lesson for budding writers on creating character through perspective, but it is a story that requires thought, introspective consideration, patience and an ability to retain details over the length of the narrative. The payoff, when it arrives, shows just how finely woven every thread has been.
Rawblood is my book of the year for 2018. It came out before then, but that's when I read it, so yah.