I think, basically, that if you haven’t read this book then
you’re doing life wrong. In fact, if you haven’t read this book then what are
you even doing right now? Don’t read this blog post: READ THIS BOOK. Seriously.
Go. Go.
In case you can’t work it out for yourself, I cannot
recommend A Place Called Winter highly enough. I
loved it with a capital L O V E D. It’s just…it’s..well it’s a really well told
story I guess. Basically, it’s what a good book should be. It’s wonderful and
moving and raw and just…freaking excellent. It’s incredibly beautifully written
and so atmospheric and its one of those books that sort of gets under your skin
and stops there. It ripped my heart from my chest in the first chapter and then
kept hold of it until the very last word. It’s fascinating and enthralling and
ALL THE GOOD ADJECTIVES. ALL OF THEM. If
you visit this blog often (in which case I love you) then you know I could
totally rant on for all of time about all that is good about this story and how
I love Harry so hard it makes my chest tight but I don’t really want to do that. What I want to do is thrust this book into
the hands of everyone I know and demand they read it right now. & I want to
give Patrick Gale a really huge hug and say thanks, matey, for writing it. .
It’s about – because God knows you’re likely not going to
read a book based on that paragraph alone – this guy called Harry, who in early
20th century England somehow finds himself married to a lady called
Winnie, and father to their little girl Phyllis. Harry is quiet and stuttering
and unassuming and utterly enchanting and for a while, all seems to be pretty
okay. And then he meets someone, and he cheats on his wife and as often happens
with these things, he gets found out. By his wife’s brother which you know:
killer. Anyway, actions have consequences and Harry finds himself with little
option but to leave everything he knows and loves behind and move to Canada,
were he makes his home on a plot of land in a town called Winter and well,
stuff happens: good stuff and bad stuff and sad stuff and beautiful stuff.
It’s another of those split narrative books – alternating
between Henry’s time in the ‘therapeutic community’ he joins after leaving a
mental asylum and the events that led to him being institutionalised in the
first place –from his life before Winnie, to his marriage, his affair, his
moving to Winter and beyond. It’s stunning. It’s exceptionally well researched
(and is based on the story of Gale’s great-grandfather. Right in the feels
people, good gracious.)
The whole thing is a really fascinating look at human nature
and at treatments for mental illness – and what constitutes mental illness in
the first place - and the views on
homosexuality in the early 20th century. It was hard and
heartbreaking but it was also fascinating you know? Besides which, Gale’s prose
is glorious – you’ll be captivated by his descriptions alone.
I'm not even above begging here: please, please read this book.
