This writer is a young Manxman. He has grown up in, and infuses into his stories, an atmosphere one can cut with a knife. He is not dependent on regionalism--not all of his work has an Isle of Man setting--but it would appear he draws strength from it; his work at its best has the flavor, raciness, "body" that one associates with the best of the output from Ireland, Wales, Brittany, and the more remote, untouched, and primitive of the states of America. He turns for his inspiration to creeks in which life runs deep, to pockets in which life accumulates deeply queer. Is the Talking Mongoose a sore subject with the Isle of Man? That interesting animal--of which the investigations of the late Harry Price never entirely disposed--might well be the denizen of a Nigel Kneale story. Has he not made frogs avengers; has he not made a deformed duck a tragedian?
This writer is a young Manxman. He has grown up in, and infuses into his stories, an atmosphere one can cut with a knife. He is not dependent on regionalism--not all of his work has an Isle of Man setting--but it would appear he draws strength from it; his work at its best has the flavor, raciness, "body" that one associates with the best of the output from Ireland, Wales, Brittany, and the more remote, untouched, and primitive of the states of America. He turns for his inspiration to creeks in which life runs deep, to pockets in which life accumulates deeply queer. Is the Talking Mongoose a sore subject with the Isle of Man? That interesting animal--of which the investigations of the late Harry Price never entirely disposed--might well be the denizen of a Nigel Kneale story. Has he not made frogs avengers; has he not made a deformed duck a tragedian?