16) The Owl Service, by Alan Garner

I think I read almost all of Alan Garner’s works as a teenager, but gave up on this one part way in because it didn’t grab me at the time. Well, age brings increased ability to appreciate. It’s an incredible book, a masterpiece of showing rather than telling, about patterns from the past (of story, of earthenware, of painting) coming to haunt the present day. There is a lot left beneath the surface – we never find out exactly how old Alison, Roger and Gwyn are, though the implication is that they are all three in their mid-teens, Alison perhaps younger than the other two; we never even see Alison’s mother Margaret, though she remains a presence in the background; the mystery behind the owls and flowers and the pierced stone is never completely explained, which normally would annoy me, but just seems to work really well here. A really good book.