Burial Rites by Hannah Kent

Comparisons to Margaret Atwood come as high praise and raise expectations, but it would be almost impossible to read Hannah Kent’s Burial Rites without hearing the echoes of her Canadian counterpart. Telling the story of Agnes Magnúsdóttir, a nineteenth century woman accused of murdering her employer, the plot is heavily reminiscent of Atwood’s Alias Grace, whilst its inclusions of newspaper extracts alongside its shifting narrative viewpoint and its post-modern fascination with narrative itself recall her more famous novel The Blind Assassin.

Though the novel’s viewpoint slides seamlessly between the horrified local family forced to harbour Agnes as she awaits her execution, the greenhorn priest nervously striving to prepare her for her final hour and the inner thoughts of Agnes herself, it’s the latter sections that are the most compelling and in whose DNA Atwood’s presence is most apparent, voicing the heavy final thoughts of another woman beaten down by fate, society and misdirected love.

Written with a morbid, melancholy tone, interrupted only briefly by the flashes of passion that illuminate Agnes’ tale before plunging her even further into darkness, Kent’s alluring prose and pitch-black humour make light reading of a brutally sombre story. [Ross McIndoe]