Words explode into the air, leaving behind velocity rings worthy of your favorite Pikachu. The force of the acrobatics is contradicted with gentility of the landing. Soft as a feather. Soft is the feather of these words. Soft and cuddly, I want caress the sentences. I reread lines and luxuriate in the linguistic salt bath. Phewwwwwwwww! A writer that is not afraid of language.

Eyrie by Tim Winton is less about a narrative and more about how it is written. Although the narrative is swift and compelling. What stands out for me is the force and poetry of the way it is written. At times it felt a touch over done. However I enjoyed it all the way through.

Now before you run out to purchase this novel, a word of caution.

If you are mentally unstable and live on the 10th floor of a tall building, you probably should avoid this novel. This is a book that requires a firm grip on reality. Residence on the ground level is highly recommended. Half way through the novel, I felt an urge to jump out the window screaming.

Eyrie!
Eyrie!
I can fly!
Look at me I can fly!
Splat!

Now that would be one sad reading experience.
Fortunately for me, I live on the ground level. All ended well.

The last two books that I read before Eyrie were bad. It left me feeling desperate. Like all the good novels have been used up and I will never ever have an enjoyable read ever again. As I picked up this book, I said to myself: “This better be good, or else”. “Or else what?” you might be asking. I didn’t have an “or else”, because how do you threaten a novel? I haven’t found a way yet. Luckily for me I didn’t have to figure out an “or else”. My belief in storytelling has been restored.

Upon reflection, I realized that this is the first novel I read by an Australian. Seems like a big gaping hole in my reading life that I need to fill. I will searching for Australian reads in the near future.