I picked this novel up in a souvenir shop in Cyprus whilst on holiday. I admit from the outset I picked it up simply because I'd wanted something to read having just finished Atwood's superb Alias Grace a few days before.Don't get me wrong, in no way is this a bad novel, although at times it is an awkward novel. There is something about Hart's prose which appears awkward in as much as the number of times she starts a sentence with 'Nora says' or 'Nora thinks' which although functional, does at times become slightly tedious. Hart is such a pervasive author in as much as she tells us what her characters think all the time (which isn't necessarily a negativity) that the reader is denied the chance to infer certain feelings and sentiments which is a shame.
The obligatory love story is a little dry I thought, but then again that is probably just a product of being so enthralled by the murderous rendez vous of Alias Grace. I cannot, however, praise Hart enough for the factual detail and accuracy of her narrative regarding the bogs in Ireland. You get the impression that the novel has been researched meticulously and that is where it shines.
In general, not a bad novel. At times yet the prose does seem to go amiss and is not half as engaging as other novels about paganism and such like, but nevertheless Hart pulls off a great tale and for that she must definitely be congratulated.
The centuries old mystery of the Irish midland peat bogs are bought to life in this engaging thriller from author, Erin Hart. The bogs are full of secrets. To ancient people they were a strange liminal region, half water and half earth - the center of the world. A holy place, a burial ground, a safe for stowing treasure, and a region of spirits.Recently the bogs have been relinquished to feed the ever-growing hunger for electric power, the men have gone to work on them devising more efficient ways to harvest peat. As the turf is cut and dried, to be burnt as a fuel, there is occasionally a find that enthuses archaeologists.
When Dublin archaeologist Cormac Maguire and anatomy lecturer Nora Gavin return to the wilds of the Irish countryside, they discover one such find. Two bodies are excavated: one an Iron Age bog body, revealed to have been in the bog for thousands of years, the other is the body of a man discovered to have a modern wristwatch on his arm. But both show signs they were victims of ritualized killings, or murders that looked like ritual killings.
This is an area that is soaked in ancient myths and age-old recriminations, and police detective Liam Ward, who knows the history of the area, is perplexed that the bodies were slain in such a manner. With an estimated date of death to be only twenty or so years ago, Ward, helped by Nora and Cormac, must work to discover the true identity of the modern man who was buried beneath the bog.
The newly discovered body is identified as Danny Brazil, a champion hurler who was believed to have emigrated to Australia twenty-five years ago. Before he disappeared, Danny and his brother Dominic were awarded a substantial reward for their discovery of the Loughnabrone hoard, a priceless collection of gold. The hoard contained the Broighter collar, a gold neck ring from the first century BC, an unbelievable find that was also considered invaluable. Soon after, however, the hoard containing the collar inexplicably vanished.
In unraveling the fate of Danny and the mysterious Broighter collar, Hart has assembled an eclectic and varied collection of suspects: There's Dominic's son, Charlie, a shy, reclusive loner who is quietly obsessed with bee keeping. Is Danny a misfit, or just one of those unfortunate people whose odd behaviour naturally draws suspicion? Teresa Brazil, Dominic's wife, hides secrets of the past, and hates living amongst "a landscape of soaking ground and dark drains slowly bleeding life away."
Does a young mute young woman named Brona, who once witnessed her sister's suicide, know something more than she's letting on? And what of Ursula Downes, fellow archaeologist and rapacious vamp? Ursula has recently been raising eyebrows because of her clandestine, kinky affair with Owen Cadogan, the bitter, misogynistic, and very married bog manager. There's also Rachel Briscoe, and an enigmatic young student who hates Ursula with a passion and spies on her at night.
As the story unfolds, Hart reveals a plot that is as complicated as a Chinese Box, waiting to be opened, to confound, and to mystify. It soon becomes clear that the Brazils were a dark family, and darkness seemed to eminate from their very souls, from the secretive habits and closed doors, the walls that constantly built up between them.
Hart excels at keeping up this shadowy and solemn mood; everyone has their secrets, and everyone has their burdens of sadness to carry. In Lake of Sorrows, lives are confined by narrow roads closed in by hedges and ditches and ivy-choked oak trees, hemmed in by a place that is perpetually dark, secret and damp. It's where the bog peat can enter your very pores, filling you up with darkness.
But Hart never forgets that she's writing a mystery. She has a sharp and experienced eye for police procedural and the technical aspects of autopsy. The second half of the novel is a race against consequences, as a second murder is committed, another ritualistic killing, full of blood-spattered mayhem. Cormac becomes a prime suspect, and Nora finds herself face-to-face with a murderous monster who believes that death is a "sacrificial privilege."
The plot of Lake of Sorrows is full of surprising twists and turns, with an inexorably mounting tension; it's somewhat like walking the bog; you have to be very careful where you put a foot down, in case you sink in. Mike Leonard June 05.
