) That said, I do believe it's perfectly possible for a setting to live, and live this setting does, in Booth's singing prose. Wonderful winter scenes that freeze your toes and fingers form a backdrop you won't forget. The tongue of the title is Irontongue Hill--which is " tongue-shaped...with ridges and crevices furrowing its dark surface. It wasn't a human tongue though. There was something reptilian about its length and the suggestion of a curl at the tip."
The story begins with some apparently unrelated happenings, a woman, dying in the snow on Irontongue Hill, a frozen corpse uncovered by a snowplow, a missing baby, and a visitor from Canada who wants to prove the innocence of her grandfather--the pilot of a second world war RAF bomber-- (a Lancaster) who supposedly walked away, deserting his crew, after the plane crashed.
How these stories come together forms a fascinating story, that stars Detective Constable Ben Cooper, a very likeable young man who isn't having much luck with his family or his lovelife. Also featured is Detective Sergeant Dianne Fry, who seems to be stuck in an emotional vacuum and gets so irritated with Ben that the reader gets the idea she cares for him but can't let herself go. Maybe this had its roots in an earlier story?
Ben is a good man, a stubborn man who isn't about to quit until he solves all of these mysteries. He also rather fancies the Canadian woman and isn't averse to helping her with her quest.
If you've been paying attention, you may remember I mentioned that this book included a character nicknamed the Snowman. Which distressed me because my next book out, which was delivered to my publisher a year ago, also contains a character nicknamed the Snowman. However, the concept and the circumstances are totally different. Amazing how these coincidences happen.
I think the thing that impressed me most about Stephen Booth's novel is the writing itself. He's a fine, fine writer, and a super storyteller, and those two skills don't always come together.
One more thing--I read this book in the Scribner hardcover and none of the Anglicisms had been Americanized. A windscreen remains a windscreen. An articulated lorry is an articulated lorry. This is a great relief to the reader! You'll remember that I had to ask what a waxed coat is, only to find out that waxed coats are manufactured in the town almost next door to the town I grew up in. Thank you to everyone who enlightened me. I'd much rather have the fun of finding out what a term means than have the publisher decide to simplify it for me.
I hope you'll enjoy this compelling novel as much as I did.
Reviewed by Meg Chittenden, June 2003
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