Faith, folk-knowledge, and fear coalesce in remote 19th-century Ireland in this second novel from Kent (Burial Rites). When her daughter and husband die amid what the community considers dark omens-unmoving birds, mysterious lights, a raging storm-Nóra Leahy dreads a future of backbreaking work in order to pay her rent and care for her four-year-old grandson Micheál. Once hale and healthy, the boy was delivered to Nóra's doorstep after the sudden death of his mother mute, unable to walk, and starving. Bitter gossip at the well and by the hearth questions how Nóra's luck soured so quickly, why the valley cows' milk is drying up, and why none of the townspeople ever see the ailing boy. Rumors and dark signs weigh on Nóra until she seeks help outside of her comfort zone: old Nance Roche's knowledge of the Good People-the fairies. But the old hermit's cures of nettle, nightshade, and foxglove bring nearly as much risk as reward. Defying the valley's newly appointed priest, Nance, Nóra, and her young housemaid, Mary Clifford, set out to determine whether Micheál is a boy or the fairy changeling the valley fears him to be. Though rife with description, backstory, and a surfeit of gossip, the book's pervasive sense of foreboding and clear narrative arcs keep the tale immersive. Kent leads the reader on a rocky, disquieting journey to the misty crossroads of Irish folk beliefs past and future. (Sept.) © Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved.

Kent, an Australian novelist whose first novel, "Burial Rites," was based on the true events of a 19th-century murder in Iceland, has returned for her second novel to the 19 th century and another inspiring true incident, this time an 1826 case of infanticide in Ireland: An elderly woman was put on trial when she drowned a child in an attempt to "put the fairy out of it." Nora Leahy, a widow scratching a meager living from the soil in a Kerry valley, feels "suffocated by the constant neediness of her grandchild," Micheál, a perplexingly feeble 4-year-old who can neither speak nor walk and whose mother, Johanna, has died. Nora journeys to Killarney to find a maid at the hiring fair, and returns to her village with 14-year-old Mary Clifford, drawn to her by her red hair, which reminds her of Johanna. "This girl had the same hair as her. The same as Micheál. A light copper - like a hare, or pine needles drying out on the ground." Though Mary tends the sickly boy with care and patience, nothing improves his condition. After both the doctor and the priest have concluded Micheál is a hopeless idiot, his only chance seems to rest with the village's elderly beanfeasa (wise woman), Nance Roche, a "herb hag" who knows how to make potions and cures from herbs and plants. She also knows the rituals for protection from the fairies - the Good People, the Fair Folk, the Good Neighbors. Sometimes they will reward those who please them, but they can also be capricious and spiteful. "Sometimes 'tis all unreason and no knowing why things are as they are," Nance says, "except to say 'tis the fairies behind it and they have their own intentions." Both Nance and Nora are convinced that Micheál is a changeling, a creature left by the fairies, who have stolen the real child. Only a series of ritual immersions in the river can bring him back. Rural pre-famine Ireland in all its beauty and desolation is alive on every page of this exquisite novel, though the secondary characters rarely act beyond their defining identities (dismissive doctor, condemnatory priest, kindhearted hired girl). "The Good People" is a dramatic tale of desperation, set in a bleak time and place when no amount of protective ritual and belief - or goodness - can rescue people from their circumstances.

Kent (Burial Rites, 2014) brings her talent for writing dark and atmospheric historical fiction to this tale set in rural Ireland in 1825. After the deaths of her daughter and husband, in quick succession, Nóra Leahy must care for her strangely disabled four-year-old grandson, whom she keeps hidden, alone. At two, Micheál could speak and walk, but now he does neither, and the town begins to whisper about how he's a changeling, taken by fairies and bringing bad luck to the community. Overwhelmed, Nóra hires young Mary to ease her burden and soon enlists the help of the equally derided and revered local handywoman, Nance Roche. She knows cures and can speak to the Good People, as fairies are respectfully known, to hopefully restore Nóra's grandson. Kent's immersive setting, benefiting from impressive historical research and the use of Gaelic vocabulary, features both a dramatically alive natural world and a believably fearsome supernatural one. Inspired by true events and exploring those places where reason, religion, and superstition cross paths, this will please lovers of haunting literary fiction.--Bostrom, Annie Copyright 2017 Booklist

A battle between belief systems in rural 19th-century Ireland forms the backdrop for Kent's (Burial Rites, 2013) unblinking examination of the corrosive costs of poverty and ignorance.Nra Leahy becomes the object of gossip and speculation in the rural Irish valley she inhabits after the 1825 death of her laborer husband, Martin. Nra's desperate attempts to hide from her neighbors the existence of the severely disabled grandson who came into her care after the death of his own motherNra's beloved daughter, Johannasoon come undone, and Michel's presence in the valley becomes the focal point of the malignant attentions of her fellow valley-dwellers, who are seeking an answer and anodyne for a reversal in fortunes that has beset the area. Long-standing belief in the destructive powers of "the Good People," fairylike creatures whose motives and methods are the subject of endless speculation in Nra's agrarian community, leads to hostility against Michel, who is suspected of being a "changeling," substituted by the Good People in place of Nra's actual grandson. Nra's frantic efforts to recover the happy boy she comes to believe was spirited away by the Good Peoplewho seem also to have visited new plagues and poverty on the valleyare aided by Nance, a grizzled, mysterious woman reputed to know the ways of the frequently malevolent beings, and Mary, a softhearted young household maid. A nerve-wracking series of efforts to banish the creature thought to be masquerading as Michel illuminates the clash between traditional values and ways of life clung to in the valley and newly emerging beliefs in scienceand perhaps a different brand of superstitionencouraged by clergy, the more educated, and residents of a nearby city that seems worlds away. Kent's well-researched tale is inspired by newspaper reports of an actual attempt in 19th-century Ireland to banish a changeling. Peppered with Gaelic words and phrases and frequent references to bygone beliefs and practices, this brutal telling of a brutal story invites discussion and revulsion. If Stevie Wonder is correct, when you believe in things you don't understand, then you suffer. Kent's novel validates his indictment of superstition. Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

Set in an Irish village in the 1820s, Kent's harrowing second novel (after Burial Rites) immerses readers in a time and place where folk superstitions mingle with daily life. Though nominally Catholic, the village residents blame fairies, or "the Good People," when any misfortune strikes, be it a stillborn child or poor milk production. After Nóra Leahy's husband dies unexpectedly, she is left alone to care for her severely disabled grandson, Micheál. Nóra comes to believe that Micheál is a changeling, and with the help of her maid Mary and the local folk healer Nance Roche, imposes a series of increasingly cruel "cures" on Micheál. Kent skillfully depicts a world where anything outside the norm falls under suspicion, particularly women who are not under the protection of a man. To varying degrees, the three central women of the book represent this victimization, which helps bring sympathy to them, despite their terrible actions. VERDICT The lack of understanding of disability leads Micheál to be dehumanized, even by his own grandmother, and his treatment is painful to read. Nevertheless, this work is a worthy contribution to literary collections, particularly those at the intersection of feminism, religion, and folklore. [See Prepub Alert, 3/27/17.]--Christine DeZelar-Tiedman, Univ. of Minnesota Libs., Minneapolis © Copyright 2017. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.