“In the very old times, when mousehood was a wretched thing, and filled with misery as a female is with young, the world was a place of great beauty; rich as lemon curd with crumbs and shadows.”


I could describe this simply as a dark, disturbing fairy-tale and in a way, I would be right. We have familiar themes here, neglected children left to fend for themselves, fairy grandmothers (who are more than they seem and that may have come to save the day), evil rent collection men with tempting lollipops (who remind one of a certain big bad wolf) and of course magical mice, generations and generations of them.

However, it is much more than that. We are never quite certain who the victim, heroes, and villains are (with one notable exception). The story is told from various perspectives by the cutlery, the mother, the house, the mice, Marie, her twin and even the rent man.

The prose is distinctive and to give you a taste of it I have used a few quotes to describe some of the characters.

Knives and other cutlery (I loved the family of nail clippers): “The greatest among creatures is the knife. Metal is old as planets; knives are the most primitive living things. A knife is a locked disaster, dormant for centuries, mostly safe enough for chopping vegetables. One might even forget that a knife is alive.”

The Mother: “When you are bitten right through with guilt, it gets so you daren’t say a word, just in case you blurt out a confession instead of the offer of a cup of tea.”

The House: “Our House tried to warm its skin in the sudden sunshine of spring. I could feel its low grumble of pleasure, but at night the joists would clock and groan as heat leached into the clear, star-infested skies.”

The many generations of mice searching for the answers and resorting to and abandoning various religions on the way: “A mousetrap is irresistible. It’s an idiots' death, a hero’s death, for curiosity is the noblest virtue that there is, next to love; next to rescuing.”

Marie: “Days crawled past, softly, the way the fruit turns rotten, and I was alone. I dreamed of a shadow at my side when I slept, and when I woke I crept about the house like a thief, gazing numbly at closed drawers and my mother’s wardrobe."

The grandmother doesn’t have a voice but we hear all about her from the other characters: "...its wren against crow, robin against missile thrush. In this way she rules over them; the songbirds decide which amount their numbers must sacrifice their wings, for if they do not then the grandmother will choose herself…”


Of all the characters the mice are the most developed, they have had generations to do so. They speak of the importance of understanding, of dealing with guilt, of revenge and more guilt. They are in turns heroes and villains, loyal acolytes and atheists, always trying to understand the nature of mousekind. While the humans, in turn, avoid questions, and memories and even the necessities of day to day lives.

The overall theme (moral?) of the tale is that every creature is subject to and cannot escape from its own nature. Only the mice begin to achieve an understanding of this.


Overall I really enjoyed this, I found my reading pace was slow due to the density of this prose. I could only read so long before I found myself having to stop and let the story sort of settle in. Not actually a bad thing. I very strongly suspect that I will enjoy this one even more as re read and look forward to reading another Paprika Tarrant.



This book is recommended for those who like dark tales, a lot of magical realism, some pretty nifty prose and do not need their endings tied up in a red bow.

PS a word to the publishers Salt Publishing. There are a number of typos clustered around chapter 42 - which has the wrong name on it!