This Is How

The story of a young man starting out in life following the split from his first girlfriend. He made one terrible move based on anger that throws his life forever in a dark direction. Well written but too many non relative details made it much too lengthy. Sometimes less is so much more.

A compelling and unsettling story about a troubled young man who commits an act of violence and is left to face the consequences, exploring his guilt and remorse. With hints of such greats as Pinter, Kafka and Camus, this is a dark and sparse story about a fragile outsider that doesn't let go. Things weren't going too badly for Patrick Oxtoby. He's intelligent and did well at school. Then his Gran died. He started getting pains in his shoulder and things rapidly went downhill from there. He drops out of university to become a mechanic. By the time we meet him as a 23-year-old, he's become a loner who cannot communicate his feelings and who cannot seem to fit himself into society. Now his fiancee has left him (and you can see her point) and he finds himself in a seaside boarding house in an unnamed English town, hoping to start a new life. Then, one night he commits an act of violence (you can see it coming) and his life goes from bad to awful. It takes a brave writer to write in the first person from the point of view of such a dysfunctional character - and a very talented one to elicit the reader's sympathy. He's almost wholly unlikeable, and yet you almost want him to get away with it. At times he will frustrate you (falling asleep at your own trial is not a good look Patrick!), but he was a broken man long before the events in this book. This is Maria Hyland's third novel. Both her previous novels have been nominated for awards and her second `Carry Me Down' was nominated for the Man Booker Prize. `This is How' has already been long list nominated for the Orange Prize. It's an uncomfortable and unsettling read, but nevertheless a very good one. I was put in mind of Ian McEwan's `Enduring Love' while reading it. There's a lot of dialogue in the book and it crackles with an almost Pinteresque tension. Reflecting his own mind, Oxtoby's voice is staccato and awkward and his imagination runs away with him. Frequently in company he complains that he `'cannot get back in'` to the conversation. As the story develops, his mental imprisonment turns to physical incarceration. There are hints of Kafka, Camus, Brendan Behan and Nietzsche in her writing and it's a powerful and evocative mix. The book is expertly paced and, because of the nature of the narrative voice, it frequently gets straight to the point and touches on emotional nerves. The writing is tight and sparse and no words are wasted. It's a very distinctive style and is highly effective. As Oxtoby moves to guilt and remorse for his actions, the reader is carried along. So far, so good then. Put simply, you should read this book. However, for reasons I'm about to explain, I cannot give it any more than four stars. What lets this book down in my view is the apparently weak editing hand that has been applied, and that's such a shame. I'm not normally too concerned by anachronisms and inconsistencies, preferring to give the author artistic licence, but here there are just too many and they

This book is not only incredibly gripping, it's superb and subtle and intelligent. Where's all the fuss? Great books like this are so rare and I don't understand the lack of attention. It's a stunningly good read!

Not typically a fan of first person narrative, I found this book to be exceptional. There aren't many heads I want to spend that much time inside. Patrick is a major exception. I never tired of walking with him. If you liked "Low Boy", please read this book, too. Other reviewers have criticized the author for not explaining why some of the characters in the novel seem to really like and support Patrick, the narrator, while others turn their backs on him. As a reader, I felt great sympathy for Patrick. I liked him, rooted for him, and wanted to stay with him through his slow but steady descent or devolution. Having just finished reading the book, I still care about him. I feel concerned about him. I assume that is how the characters who met him during the course of events in the book felt, too. At the same time, I can easily imagine why those who knew him best (or at least longest) are no longer able/willing to maintain their connection with him. I'm so glad that Hyland didn't explain these relationship choices. Readers who want to be entertained and prefer having everything spelled out for them should stick with something more formulaic and plot driven. This is not a British mystery or a suspense novel. Those who want to be engaged, who want to participate and bring their own experience/mind to the story will find this book quite rewarding. Perhaps that makes Hyland a writer's writer. I admire Hyland's restraint in not explaining everything. In other words, she trusts her readers to get it and to continue thinking about Patrick and lingering with thoughts of his life after the book ends.

After his girlfriend tells him that she can't marry him, Patrick Oxtoby escapes to a boarding house in a small seaside town. Though a rather passive young man and from an average family, Patrick has never really felt quite at home even though he does love his mother and father, and his brother Russell. In his early twenties, Patrick hopes to start a new life, hoping to become more relevant after unceremoniously flunking out of university. He's never done any serious violence to anybody, "never even thought about it that much," but since he's been a teenager he's been plagued with sore neck and shoulders and he doesn't quite no why he's got the pains. Patrick can't afford this life behind three months, but he's going to make good while it lasts, and "make it count." Welcomed by the landlady Bridget, who happily befriends him and invites him for the odd drink with the other two lodgers, Ian Welkin, Shaun Flindall, two spoilt carousing drunks who constantly bring home girls, Patrick seems quite content, other than exhibiting a pervasive disconnect to himself and an inability to really express his emotions; it's as though he didn't have many. He spends his days walking to the promenade, and drinking in the cold air. Even as the constant smell of stale ash and engine oil seems to permeate the environment, Patrick secures employment as a car mechanic at a local body shop. Patrick's not a heavy drinker but he drinks in bouts, and since Sarah broke it off he's been drinking more and more, particularly at the local train station bar. But even as Patrick ruminates on why he left home, he now has to field his mother's accusations that he's contrary and sarcastic: "it's just that what you want isn't the same as what I want." He's constantly plagued with the fact that he doesn't know where he'll go or what he'll do, and a feeling like there's nothing he's got to look forward to. Soon enough Welkin and Flindall's cocky and larrikin behaviour is annoying Patrick which he handles by slinking off to his room after hanging his head over a toilet bowl, sick as a dog from all of the ale. Only Georgia, a kindly waitress at a local café and a drive with her in a convertible he borrows from the mechanic shop can perhaps stop Patrick's brain flooding with all of the sour things that are being stored up. With his hands spread out like a tight rope walker and his eyes shut, he's got to think of a way out of the panic before it takes hold. Unfortunately, Patrick chooses the wrong path when the hints of a strange, and furtive sexual tension between he and Welkin begin to surface. The desire is almost palpable as a sudden and horrific decision changes the course of Patrick's life. Suddenly locked up in the "secured gates of hell, " Patrick's story becomes one of redemption and trying to make the best of it. In a detached, austere prose, Hyland layer's her protagonist's journey, seeming to get right to the heart of Patrick's moods, his cravings and his desperation to g

I am at a loss as to why this book is not widely acclaimed. In the tradition of such writers as James M. Cain it is deceptively simple. Its minimalist style is both beautiful and potent The characters os pitch perfect as is the plot which builds in a slow burn to a truly affecting and disturbing resolution. My highest recommendation.