This was my first novel by this author and I was intrigued by the premise: the 20-year-old daughter of an unassuming couple leaves home abruptly only to return 5 years later but with a number of secrets. I enjoyed the writing style (long, meandering, evocative sentences) and was drawn in for the first couple of long chapters (each of which is told from the perspective of another or multiple family members). However, the story failed to sustain my interest (a chapter that features a story within the story took me out it) and I found myself skipping through the second half of the novel, having lost interest.

Having previously read All We Shall Know and enjoying it enormously, I was looking forward to reading another book by Donal Ryan. However, this book wasn't for me unfortunately. It was too slow, the sentences too long and meandering. I kept having to reread the previous paragraph to keep with it. I'm sorry to say I became less interested as the book went on.

Thank you for the opportunity to read and review this book.

I did feel that this was beautifully written and I liked the uniqueness of the story but it felt very slow and at times I wondered if I should skip ahead because I was getting impatient.
The issues of race and LGBTQ in Ireland were interesting and there were some lovely emotional beats in this novel.

The anticipation is thrilling when you start a new Donal Ryan book, and it finishes with a mix of satisfaction and longing – this form continues with his latest novel. Strange Flowers is a beautifully written family drama that treats us to a cast of characters that take the story through events and scenes that are carefully crafted with shifting modes of tradition, absorbing relationships, captivating twists, and leaves us fully satisfied. From the uplifting dignity of honourable people, through shocking events, to the biting hardships that families often encounter, this book is brimming with wonderful storytelling.

Set in the 1970s, in a rural area in Tipperary in Ireland, Paddy and Kit Gladney are tenant farmers, deferential to their landlord, warm-hearted, an honest work ethic and a religious faith that provides the bedrock for their lives. Their only daughter Moll, as a young adult took the bus to Nenagh, the train to Dublin, and they have no idea what happened her after that. The grief and the ensnaring torment Paddy and Kit felt, condemned them to “a solemn half-life of work and prayers and weakening hope, and the earth spun and the moon phased and the rain fell and the sun shone and their hearts grew heavier and heavier with grief.”

Five years after Moll’s disappearance the prodigal daughter returns to Knockgowny, to the open thankful, joyous arms of Paddy and Kit, whose prayers have been answered. Moll is reluctant to explain why she ran away and why she returned. Her parents continue with superficial conversations rather than probe and risk pushing her away. Eventually, the secrets start being revealed and the most shocking was that Moll had moved to London and married a black man, Alexander and they had a son, Joshua. Alexander is a man of integrity and deeply in love with Moll, so much so that he followed her back to Ireland, unsure of the exact address but driven by his determination to hold his family together. They eventually settle into the rural environment with Moll's parents in a landscape as foreign to Alex as he is to the people of the region.

“The greenness of the place. Everywhere greenness, trees heavy with it, hedgerows dappled light and dark and every shade of it, rolling fields of grass and green hills as far as his eye could see, and a lake below them in a silver line and, at the far side of it, below the blue and white and grey horizon, more greenness, more grassy hills and forests.”

The relationship Alex developed with Paddy and Kit was genuine and brilliantly illustrated the changing perspectives of Irish people during a time when Ireland itself was becoming more open and cosmopolitan. The theme of religion is woven throughout the story with chapters titled after books of the old and new testaments like Genesis and Revelation, many religious references are often used, and a story Joshua writes and reads to a girl based on a retelling of Jesus’ life. The emotional and personality traits of the characters are so keenly observed and intelligently portrayed that it creates a profound connection with several. The relationships between the family members and the landowners, the Jackmans, has an intergenerational association. A connection that also illustrates the changing norms, outlook and mood of an evolving world that gets smaller and smaller.

Donal Ryan can create a story around the lives of seemingly normal people heading in a clear direction only to be knocked off course into turbulent waters. His stories captivate and when fully brought to life leave an imprint on your heart and mind. The diversity of personalities is becoming a trademark of Donal’s. I would highly recommend this book and I would also like to thank Random House UK, Doubleday and NetGalley for providing me with a free ARC in return for an honest review.

Every time I open a book by Donal Ryan, I am astonished at the poetic simplicity of his writing. Each word is in its place, each sentence carefully crafted, each paragraph essential. So much is said in so few words, the brevity of his novels testament to his skilful storytelling. There is so much beauty in Strange Flowers, so much compassion for each of the characters in all their imperfect humanity, that my heart broke a little more at every page for every single one of them. Donal Ryan's new novel is a pure literary gem, and has already left me eager to discover what will be coming next.

Beautifully written but I ultimately wanted more. The description posted on Goodreads made me think something supernatural would be going on (not really sure how I got to that!) and I actually think I would have preferred it like that. In my head, the book was going to be dark and atmospheric but instead it all felt a bit rushed and light. I found it hard to connect with the characters, and I always think that makes it a struggle reading such a character driven novel.

This was not for me really. I liked the idea and i generally like slow meandering stories but this just didn't hit it for me. I don't know what it was but this just didn't work for me overall.

There’s no doubt that Donal Ryan can write and I’ve loved some of his earlier books, but the last ones just haven't grabbed me in quite the same way. There seems to be a lack of vision or coherence to them that was absent in, for example, The Spinning Heart or That Thing About December. And now again I was ultimately disappointed with this latest novel which started so promisingly, but which in my view lost its way. The story begins in 1973 when 20-year-old Moll Gladney disappears from her loving home leaving her parents, Paddy and Kit, bewildered and distraught. They can imagine no reason for her inexplicable disappearance. The narrative unfolds slowly as we learn what impelled her to go and there’s some beautiful writing in these early chapters. It’s a wonderful and authentic portrait of rural Irish life. But I became less and less convinced as the narrative progressed. Without giving anything away, I can only say that the reason for Moll leaving didn’t persuade me and I failed to connect with her. The book also ventures into meta-fiction territory later on when there’s a story within a story and this felt totally out of place to me and I can’t understand why it was included. This story of a blind beggar sits uneasily with the rest of the novel, which, whilst lyrical, is very much down to earth. Overall I enjoyed the book but wasn’t swept away by it as some have been.

Another gem of a novel by Donal Ryan. His style is striking in that it is sparse at times, a lot of reading between the lines, characters not being over dramatised and conversation is only what is necessary, no flowery language. Yet at the same time he manages to weave story into story, have multiple threads going at once and make the reader feel like a huge amount has happened in between the few pages.

This particular novel spans three generations of one family, all with their own quirks, foibles and demons. Each generation has particular issues to deal with and it is us learning about the characters themselves and their daily struggles which comprises this story, but it is so much more than that.

The Irish-ness of it is never straying into stereotypical, you can just imagine the accents coming off of the page and visualise the countryside as he presents it on the page.

Another five star

My thanks to Random House U.K. Transworld for an advance reading copy of via NetGalley of ‘Strange Flowers’ by Donal Ryan.

This is a multigenerational family drama set in rural Ireland. It opens in the early 1970s as 20-year old Moll Gladney takes an early morning bus leaving behind her family home. Her parents, Paddy and Kit, are bewildered and distraught. They feel it is very possible that they may never see their daughter again.

Then five years later Moll returns. At first she seems to be alone yet this quickly turns out to be wrong.

While I recognised the lyrical beauty of Ryan’s writing, I found it difficult to engage with the story and characters. It clearly is a novel that does appeal to many readers but sadly wasn’t my cup of tea.

In 1973, Moll Gladney runs away from her home in rural Ireland, leaving her distraught parents, Paddy and Kit, with their lives turned upside down, terrified of what may have become of their daughter, attempting to continue with their daily routines while fending off both the sympathy and inquisitiveness of their neighbours.
Time passes, as it's bound to, with no word from Moll, till five years later she returns, turning up out of the blue one day, followed shortly afterwards by her husband, Alexander, and baby son, and life for the Gladneys takes another surprising turn.

Strange Flowers is a story of family, loss, and redemption, of three generations bound together by love, but torn apart by secrets. It takes the characters and readers from the quiet slow life of rural Tipperary, to hectic, bustling London, following the characters closely as their stories play out, though retaining some secrets till the end. Life in the Gladney's small close-knit community may seem idyllic, but there are drawbacks. It's a place where it's hard to keep a secret, where everyone must conform to what's expected, and anything or anyone out of the ordinary is looked upon with suspicion. London by comparison seems an anonymous city where you could perhaps be your true self, but it's an impossible place for Moll and Alexander to raise their son.


I've loved Ryan's writing since I first read The Thing About December, and Strange Flowers is another utterly stunning book. As always, his storytelling is beautiful and lyrical, enveloping the reader with the lilt and cadence of his native Tipperary, occasionally shocking them with abrupt outbursts of violence, but always full of compassion and warmth.

This is a beautiful and enchanting story that I devoured in one sitting.
In 1973, Moll Gladney walks out of her parents Tipperary hillside home with no explanation, and they hear nothing of her until she returns over five years later. Whilst her parents Paddy and Kit are overjoyed to have their beloved daughter back, they aren’t prepared for the changes in her life which would now come colliding into theirs too.
This story has a gentle way of pulling you in and not letting you go until the very last word - it is almost lyrical in its beauty. I have never felt so warmly for two characters as I did for Paddy and Alexander, two quietly kind men who love so deeply and without expectation. For me, they were the absolute heart of this story, and the relationship between this aged Irish Catholic father and young Black man against all the odds warmed my heart in a way few relationships do.
This story covers so much ground - faith, loss, class, forbidden love, family and coming home, and it does so with a deep understanding of the human capacity for love against all expectation. I also adored the setting of the Irish countryside which Ryan describes so vividly, and quite honestly never wanted this to end. Heartwarming and heartbreaking in equal measure - I can’t wait to read everything of Ryan’s. Actual rating 4.5.

This was a title I was excited about for a long time. I am a huge fan of Donal Ryan's writing, and I was certainly not disappointed!
This book begins in 1970's Ireland, in a rural farming community and spans a few generations. It is divided into sections (each named after a book in the Bible) and focuses on a particular character intrinsic to the story. It opens with a focus on Paddy, a postman and land labourer in his sixties. He lives in a tied cottage, owned by his boss. Paddy and his wife, Kit, are distraught as their only daughter, Moll, has just disappeared from their lives. Towards the end of this section, and many years later, she returns, silently and without explanation as to where she has been. One day, the local guard and priest turn up at the cottage to tell Paddy that a man has shown up in the town asking after Moll, claiming connections to her and their family. The biggest shock of all to this insular 1970's community, is that the man is Black. It turns out that they are married and have a child together.

This first section sets the story up, and will have you formulating questions that won't be answered until the end. Why did Moll leave?
The sections in the novel are like miniature short stories with interconnecting characters. Donal Ryan masterfully foreshadows snippets of information that will draw you to the end in search of the answers. I loved it.

When I read Donal Ryan’s debut “The Spinning Heart” in 2013 I was so impressed. I completed it very early on in the year and it still managed to make the runner up spot in my Books Of The Year (behind Robert Lohr’s 2007 “Secrets Of The Chess Machine”. What an under-rated book that was). I felt like I was really at the start of something when I was sent Ryan’s debut to review. My thoughts about it featured alongside an interview with the author in Newbooks (NB) magazine and the novel won the Guardian First Book Award, The Book Of The Year at the Irish Book Awards amongst other accolades and was later voted “Irish Book Of The Decade”. I made my own claim to the lasting power of this book in 2015 when I put the title forward in the winter edition of NB/Newbooks as my choice for the Best Book Of The 21st Century So Far.
Here’s the strange thing- despite my great love for this title I have not got around to reading anything else by this author who has since published a short-story collection and three novels (his last “From A Low And Quiet Sea” making the 2018 Costa Novel Shortlist). I was delighted to be offered a chance to advance review this, his fifth novel, by his publishers to put my previous oversights right.
The thing I have to get over first of all is that it didn’t blow me away like the debut did, so there’s unfortunately already a trickle of disappointment creeping in. This was added to slightly by the narrative structure chosen, the debut drew the reader in with 21 people telling their tale creating a community with wonderful, economic writing which really brought these characters alive. Here we have a very factual narrative, written like a fable or fairy tale, which makes obviously for good story-telling but holds the reader at arm’s length and delays an emotional attachment with the characters developing. This is obviously a popular style at the moment as Edmund White has surprisingly utilised something similar in his latest “A Saint From Texas”.
We begin in the early 1970s in Tipperary and the novel focuses on three generations of the Gladney family. Paddy, a postman who also works on the land of the Jackman family where his cottage is situated and his wife, Kit, are reeling from the disappearance of their daughter Moll. This can be seen as a novel about returning home and being satisfied with one’s lot as characters seem happiest when they have returned home to live a simpler life in the Tipperary countryside.
For the first half of the novel I was impressed by the quality of the writing but not totally involved but perhaps by two-thirds of the way through the undeniable genius of Donal Ryan had worked its magic and despite writing in a style which was keeping me at a distance I discovered I really cared for some of these characters (I adored Alexander) and ended up feeling quite misty-eyed by the end. I’m not sure how the author did this to me. Once again it is a deceptively simple work which is much richer in characterisation and symbolism than it first appears- perhaps working in that subliminal way in which we as children relate to fantasy and traditional stories which the structure of this ultimately satisfying work echoes.
Strange Flowers was published in hardback by Doubleday on 20th August 2020. Many thanks to the publishers for selecting me to review an advance copy and to Netgalley for making that available.

Sometimes you come across a book that is just so beautifully written and so intensely moving in its subject matter that it is hard to say anything about it other than ‘this is perfect’. That’s the way I feel about Donal Ryan’s new novel, Strange Flowers. Having finished it last night, I am still reluctant to write about it, partly because I just don’t feel anything I say can do it justice, but mainly because I simply don’t want to disturb the feelings of gratitude and privilege of being having allowed to read this book. However, if I don’t put pen to paper, as it were, then some of you now reading might never think of picking up this short but atmospheric work and that would be a terrible shame.

Like most of Ryan’s work the novel is set primarily in rural Ireland, in this case in County Tipperary, however, some of the more important scenes thematically are sited in London where two of the main characters try to find a place to lose themselves after traumatic loss sours their experience of home. In 1973, Moll Gladney vanishes from the humble bothy that she shares with her parents, Paddy and Kit, leaving no word of explanation behind her. For five years her devastated family continues with their daily round, Paddy working in the mornings as the local postman and in the afternoons walking the marches of his landlord’s property, keeping an eye on the stock and carrying out any work that might need doing to maintain the land. Then, just as unexpectedly as she left, Moll returns and following her comes her husband, Alexander, a black Presbyterian bringing with him not only his parents but the son, Josh, that Moll has left behind.

While the love that Alexander feels for Moll is patiently obvious to everyone, her feelings about her husband and child are less apparent and it is clear that there is more to the story of her disappearance than any of the family know. Alexander stays on with the family and gradually finds a place for himself in the community, playing hurling with the local team and building a landscape gardening business that looks fit to thrive and help change the fortunes of the Gladney family. And then Alexander is killed in a road accident and the fragile equilibrium that the family has achieved is once more shattered. This time it is Josh who takes himself off to London, working at whatever job he can find while he struggles to make his mark as a writer. From this point in the book the family story is intercut by Josh’s retelling of the story of the blind man cured by Jesus, a story, he tells us, that has to have more behind it then appears in the gospels.

And this is one of the major themes of the book, that however much we know, or think we know, about the truth of a matter, there are always circumstances, details, outcomes, that are omitted from the telling. Just as we don’t know all the circumstances behind the life of the blind beggar, including what happened to him after his ‘miracle’, neither do we know the reason that Moll left all those years before nor truly understand what it is that is motivating Josh.  The other major theme, it seems to me, is the nature of love, the power of love and the sacrifices which that love, seen most often here, within the family setting, is prepared to make. No one reading this book can doubt Paddy’s love for his family, a love that widens to include Alexander and Josh when they make the crossing over the Irish sea. Nor can there be any question of the love that Alexander feels for Moll, even though he knows, as do we, that this is a feeling she is not able to return. Where love is not to be found is in association with power. Lucas Jackman, the Gladney’s landlord, abuses his power in the most atrocious manner and Josh‘s retelling of the gospel story forces the reader to question the extent to which Christ’s miracles were an act of love or if they were not rather part of a publicity seeking campaign designed to boost the persona of the man calling himself the Messiah, a man Ryan seems to suggest who has been overwhelmed by his followers and to have lost all his authority. 

However, the ultimate power of the book lies in the beauty of its language. As you read you feel that every word has been placed not just with precision but also with the same love that Ryan is celebrating in the story he depicts. He is, without doubt a brilliant writer, far better than I am. I look back over what I have written here and feel that I have come nowhere near expressing the beauty or the force of his novel. All I can do is ask you to read it and experience the power of his words for yourself.

With many thanks to Doubleday and NetGalley for the review copy.

I have read a number of Ryan's back catalogue and Strange Flowers has the same beautiful writing that you would expect from Ryan's work.

You are instantly immersed in the setting from the first page and can really feel the sense of community and whisperings that this brings, especially when a child goes missing.

The book didn't maintain the pace in the middle section and I had to push myself through this a little bit. Strange Flowers seemed to flip between being character driven and being plot driven and I really wish that Ryan had stuck with character driven and just kept the lovely prose flowing.

Strange Flowers is a beautifully written exploration of family and the bonds formed between humans. It moves from generation to generation and from Ireland to London seamlessly to create a story with love and loss at its core. Ryan is so good at capturing the nuances of expression and speech, and you are instantly immersed in 1970s Ireland from the very first scene. The characters brought to life in this novel will stay with you for a long time.

Donal Ryan is an excellent story teller and this novel has a poignant story to tell about a family in rural Ireland where tradition and religion has a strong hold over the community.
Moll Gladney goes missing and her parents Paddy and Kit assume she is either dead or pregnant, and Paddy isn’t sure which is worse. After five years Moll returns and Paddy and Kits life is changed by events as we find out what happened in those years and eventually the reason why Moll left. The story follows three generations of Gladneys and the story gradually builds up the characters of the family members and covers a number of themes including tolerance, racism, sexuality, social inequality, religion.
I’ve been meaning to read a Donal Ryan novel for some time and I wasn’t disappointed with Strange Flowers, I will now read some of his previous novels.

I was gifted a free eARC* of this book by the publisher, via NetGalley in exchange for my honest review.

*eARC: electronic Advance Review Copy

Title: Strange Flowers
Author: Donal Ryan
Publisher: Transworld Publishers
Release Date: August 27th
Genre: Literary Fiction

TWs: Racism, sexual assault.

Strange Flowers opens with the disappearance of Moll Gladney, a 20-year-old woman from Ireland. Her parents, Kit and Paddy, are naturally distraught, and the loss of Moll is the focus of the first part of the novel. 5 years later, Moll returns, having had no contact with her family from when she walked out one day until the moment of her return. Donal Ryan explores loss, love, redemption, family and isolation through this touching book.

I read this book in a day. Partly because it’s not that long (around 250 pages), but also because I found it really engaging stylistically. Moll, whom the book centres around, is a really interesting character. She comes across as a very private person, and even towards the end of the book it still feels like the reader is trying to work out the puzzle of Moll. The other characters that comprise Moll’s family seem a lot more open which made for some interesting dynamics. The reasons for Moll’s disappearance, and what happened in that five year period are discovered in pieces, with Moll forced to reveal more as elements of her past return and she is forced to be honest with her parents.

While I don’t want to give away too much of the plot, midway through the book there is a time/perspective jump. The protagonist in this section is Joshua, Moll’s son. While he was an interesting character, his plot line didn’t really engage me in the same way I was engaged in Moll’s plotline, and I lost interest a bit around this point. Fortunately, the perspective does return back to Moll towards the end, and we finally learn the pieces of the puzzle that make her disappearance make sense, and I started to enjoy the book properly again when the perspective flipped back to Moll. This final section was the most moving for me. The family have experienced a lot of loss since the jump in time, and there’s a very moving exploration of loss, love, and identity in this final section.

As I mentioned, I lost interest a little bit in the middle section, which I think was partly an issue with pacing as well as not engaging as much with Joshua’s plotline. Overall, the book is fairly slow paced, but just as I’d felt as though the pacing was picking up and we were starting to settle into the characters’ lives, the reader is thrown into a new setting with a new character, and the pacing drops again. Perhaps as a result of the slow middle, the ending felt rushed by comparison, though I don’t know that it actually needed to be longer (though a little bit more would perhaps have been nice), but the change in pacing felt quite dramatic.

I think I would likely have got an extra layer from this book if I were more familiar with scripture, as there a lot of Biblical allusions throughout this novel that really mostly passed me by. Joshua’s section especially would be benefitted from a knowledge of the Bible, but there are a lot of references to the Bible throughout that were often meaningless to me. Granted, this is definitely a fault of myself and not of Ryan, but as a warning to anyone who may be thinking of picking this book up, the religious themes are very important to the story, and it isn’t necessary, but is useful, to have a working understanding of scripture.

Finally, I wanted to mention the setting. I’ve read a fair few Irish novels, and I really liked how Strange Flowers juxtaposed the rural life that Moll’s family lead to the bustle of Dublin, and the metropolis that is London. The sense of community in Tipperary came across really well, and I would’ve enjoyed if there had been a bit more about the Gladney’s rural life and their interactions with their neighbours because, while a sense that a community was strong and present was created, the interactions between this community were mostly absent from the text, making the Gladney’s feel more isolated than they really were.

Though Donal Ryan is not a new writer, this book was the first I’d head of him. His writing style is somewhat lyrical, but mostly fairly straightforward, and flows very well. The writing style was definitely a big part of what kept me engaged throughout Joshua’s section, else I think I could have lost interest in the book entirely. I would definitely give more books by Donal Ryan a go based on his characters and style, but I think the pacing and plot of this book let it down a bit for me.

A masterful tale of loss and redemption full of vivid descriptions and humanity. The characters stay with you long after you have finished the last page.