All the Birds, Singing by Evie WyldMy rating: 4 of 5 stars
The down side to reading literary fiction is that I almost always finish the book wondering what the heck the ending is supposed to mean. It's like there's an unwritten rule that, in order for a book to be considered literary fiction, it must have as confusing an ending as possible. It must contain no trace of a conclusion, and must be fraught with symbolism that only the cleverest of readers will understand, after a lengthy consideration.
So basically, the ending sucked.
Otherwise, I kind of enjoyed this a lot more than I was expecting.
It's a bit of a bland setting - lone woman and her dog on an isolated sheep farm - but the alternating chapters that tell her past backwards make things plenty interesting. Took me a little to get used to the format but once I had I found I rather enjoyed it. It's a slow unravelling of a subtle mystery, contrasted with the unspooling of the present mystery. Clever.
The language is obviously what made this book a prize-winner, as it creates a very real, tangible story. I'm not one for flowery descriptions but this never felt like overkill. It was balanced with just enough story progression to keep the pace steady.
Now, about that ending.
(view spoiler)
So in conclusion, a brilliantly written book, nice and short, lyrical, and descriptive, but still with a little mystery to keep you turning pages eagerly. So much symbolism though, so have fun wrapping your head around it because I can honestly say it was too much for my tiny brain.
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