The Stranger House (Paperback)

Both strangers in a strange land, their senses of isolation, of being an outsider, are at times extreme. Especially when people are not being straight with them. Outright denial of a person's existence is negated when Sam unearths a gravestone in the local church, complete with the person's engraved name. It's first in a long line of uncovered deceptions. The people of Illthwaite, it is clear, do not want to be open. And those who do wish to be open are suspicious at best. The atmosphere of isolation breeds a hysteric one of danger, of fear.

It's also a book about the nature of community, of belonging. Dark Illthwaite, isolated itself at the base of a valley, sun hidden by undulating hills, clubs together in the face of interrogation, is complicit in silence, and yet must maintain an unnerving façade of friendliness. Appearances, clearly, count for a lot.

The most obvious triumph of this novel? The two protagonists. Frankly, Hill's craft in drawing them is beyond praise. They're vivid, real, human, funny, passionate, and ridiculously engaging. It's a long book, but you're glad that it is, if just to spend it in the company of these vibrant, breathing characters. Hill's flare here is undiminished. The least obvious triumph? The fact that there's nary a crime in sight. This, when the final page is turned, is merely a novel where the characters discover their ancestors, and their own history, their own context, by scrubbing slowly away at the soil of untruths. No murders, no viciously spilled blood. And I only realised that when I'd actually finished the thing. "Wait a second..." my brain went. Hill, it's easy to forget, has been in this game for years, and there's a reason why he's one of the most accomplished crime writers in the world. There's no real crime here, and yet Hill's overflowing talent means there's as much suspense, as much mystery, as much tension and need-to-know-what's-going-on desperation on the part of the reader as there is would be in the first five books of a less experienced practitioner.

There's something that perhaps shouldn't work about this book: the fact that it's full of so very much. One the one hand, it's incredibly clever and learned (Hill displays not just knowledge but understanding of everything from Mathematics to Norse myth) at the same time as being incredibly light and jocular; it's dark and oppressive at the same time as being funny and bawdy; it's so full of characters that brim with neon life; it's so full of history, yet is so grippingly immediate. It's full of stuff, and full of contrasts, and it works at every single level it aims at.

A serious book, it's also hugely enjoyable. This, I think, can be said of all his work, and that is something to be proud of. He's a special writer indeed; there's certainly no one writing books quite like his. A novel wreathed in mystery and myth, soaked with secrets and history, The Stranger House is one of the most unique and remarkable books of the year. Hill deserves several cheers for this.

The Australian protagonist is perhaps a bit strong, but he has captured the essence of a type of feisty, no-nonsense character that does exist in that country, and she is funny, vulnerable and likeable. He draws on a real historical episode, which has caused enormous distress since it first came to light, and he shows great compassion.
The Spanish Catholic character is also seeking answers about a time of religious fanaticism and the cruelty it engendered, and also has a humanity that easily wins the reader's sympathy.

It is very much a book one reads to find out what happens next, while Hill does not put a foot wrong in his evocation of place and how the morality that exists at different times in history shapes the actions and reactions of people.
Five hundred years ago physical torture was state-sanctioned; as recently as the mid-twentieth century mental torture and sometimes physical abuse was still being inflicted on the helpless in the belief that it was in their best interest

Hill does not preach, but the lessons in the book are powerful and thuoght-provoking.

Above all, it is a ripping yarn, brilliantly told. I loved it.

I've been a fan of the Dalziel & Pascoes series for many years, and have long considered Mr. Hill the best crime writer in English today. (It denigrates his novels even to characterize them by genre.) But in The Stranger House, Mr. Hill has assumed the daunting mantle of Dickensian moral fiction, and achieved a triumph.