As he did in his masterful Flaubert's Parrot, the British author returns in this new work to a hybrid style that blends fiction and nonfiction, imagination and erudition. And once again he plays with the traps of the past and memory, as he did in The Sense of an Ending, which won the Booker Prize in 2011. In Departures, a couple, Stephen and Jean, attempt without much success to rekindle their idealized university romance half a century later.
Subsequently, runaway children turned the valley into a fortress, surviving on food they could catch or grow, with occasional forays into the towns below. Riley has heard the rumours, but it is only when she sees a green-clad boy or is it a girl? hovering outside her bedroom window offering directions on how to find Nowhere that she realises this might be her chance to escape and save her little brother from their sadistic guardian.
A writer is a kind of magician. Their job is to create living, three-dimensional people out of the ordinary stuff of ink and paper. This is no easy task, because readers can't literally hear, touch, or observe a character. Everything that defines a human being in real life-the physical space they occupy, or how they smell, feel, and sound-is stripped away, replaced by description. But authors have one major, mystical advantage: They can show you what's happening inside of someone's brain.