I didn’t know what to expect when I picked up Fray at Brome Lake Books; it seems to be a mystery with an appealing cover, and an Alan Cumming blurb the conjures up Masterpiece Classics. And with a very short drive, there's a forest, a huge wooded area on the very northeastern tip of Fife, or there's other bits of woodland and beach and mountains that aren't terribly far away. Usually when a novel is set in remote mountains such as the Highlands the backdrop is a key part of the story.

The Scottish highlands play their part perfectly and help create an equally intense but beautiful backdrop that brings despair and hope in equal measure. Does this mean the father is alive, or that some other person or strange being is at hand, playing a nasty and frightening trick on the narrator? One of his hand-drawn maps has the word ‘hotel’ marked prominently, but there doesn’t seem to be a hotel nearby. If the book had been about the protagonists grief then the end would have been great, but while the theme is touched on, it just doesn't seem to be about that. It’s an unusual novel which creates a real sense of place and uses the encroaching natural surroundings to accentuate the narrator’s imploding mental health.Fray can be seen as an active process of working through its narrator’s deep feelings – and there’s cause to wonder how much of what’s narrated is happening in the external world, and how much in the narrator’s mind. As both a runner and someone who loves the wild landscape of the Scottish Highlands this book transported me to a thoroughly engrossing world. The story is set in the bleakness of the Scottish highlands, which sets the scene for a beautiful tale of loss, grief, and personal discovery. I’m always impressed when the written word evokes strong feelings and emotions; perhaps made easier by the similarities between it’s story and mine.

Haunting, gripping, a visceral portrayal of movement and mountains and the outdoors and the power and chaos of our own minds. Thoughtful, sharp, and deeply considered use of language that is both utterly captivating, and pulls off the trick of being both intense yet surprisingly accessible. Had the author stopped at that 25% mark, it would’ve been a 4-star story, and nothing much would’ve been lost. A deeply haunting book … The Scottish Highlands have never felt more wild or alive than they do in this … immensely important novel.Throughout the first 40 pages or so, I was actually loving the atmosphere and the way the characters inner monologue unfolded. I just about stuck with it, and was ultimately disappointed by it, though by its experimental nature I can respect Carse's boldness. There's a wonderful community waiting to welcome you to parkrun or to clubs or whatever it might be.

So, yes, there is a story if you have the stamina and interest to pursue it, and it is one which you may find rewarding, for in this respect the argument of the novel may be taken as an attempt to distinguish between reality as perceived by the senses and reality as understood by the mind, especially the perplexed mind. I highly recommend this cinematic and emotional whirlwind as a gift for family, friends or a personal treat! Frustrating and irritating when you’re circling back round the exact same idea for the tenth time 40 pages later. My understanding of it is that it is about a son experiencing guilt followed closely by depression, after losing his parents, because he realises that he never really knew them.

So the last couple of years I’ve actually run without a watch, just getting out and enjoying it and that’s actually been fantastic. I ended up heavily skimming the main POV segments from about 65% on, then eventually skipped to the end and read the last chapter.