Second paragraph of third chapter:

Jen put her hand on hims forehead then over hims eyes to close them.

Those who were at Novacon in 2021 may remember the launch for this book; I sat beside Chris Priest, probably the last time I saw him, listening to the author’s partner (one Bernardine Evaristo) talking through the creative process. Evaristo made it clear that she would be much more inclined to sign copies of her own books for people who had bought Howul, which is entirely fair. It took me almost four years, but I have now got around to reading it.

Folks, it is a wee treat. It’s set in a degenerate post-apocalyptic society in what used to be North Wales – probably if I knew Wales better I could be very specific about the settings – where resources are scarce and the artefacts of the past, including tinned food, are feared and revered. Howul is forced to leave his home village, where he was the last in a long line of healers, and goes on a journey exploring the country nearby. Much is not as it first seems, including as it turns out his own home.

Howul’s future dialect is reminiscent of Riddley Walker (which I read when I was a teenager), but it’s not derivative, and the book as a whole goes in quite a different direction. There is a well-developed sense of place and social structure, and some useful thoughts about truth and fiction which give this short book a strong heft. Shannon worked on it for over a decade, and I feel it paid off. You can get Howul here.

This was the shortest unread book on my shelves acquired in 2021, and the sf book that had lingered longest on my shelves. Next on both of those piles is Burning Brightly: 50 Years of Novacon, edited by Ian Whates.