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But while this introductory riff announces luck as a theme, the novel also hinges on Toby taking his more-than-fair share of luck for granted, being complacent, myopic and primed for the humbling that arrives when, after a night out, he is brutally attacked in his home. The novel begins with Toby ruminating about his own good fortune – a mini-essay, laden with quirky hypothetical examples, that has more than a passing resemblance to Alanis Morissette’s song “Ironic”. It’s a question that, while prompted by the novel’s hectic composition and bizarre length, is intensified by the broader debate about the aims and claims of genre fiction.įrom the very start, French can be seen performing too many tasks at once, or at least conflicting tasks in close succession. It’s so replete with reflections and revelations, currents and cross-currents, that you’re left in a near-constant state of befuddlement about what French – fêted for her series of six books about members of the Dublin Murder Squad – is trying to achieve.

It would be hard to think of a better summary of what’s missing from the book itself.Īs a reading experience, The Wych Elm never comes into view. At one point, he even uses the word as a transitive verb, describing his habit of enjoying good luck as “the keystone that cohered my bones”. Toby Hennessy, the 28-year-old PR guy at the heart of Tana French’s new novel, is a strong believer in things cohering – a story, a memory, a human personality.

The witch elm review