The Good People
Based on true events in nineteenth century Ireland, Hannah Kent's startling new novel tells the story of three women, drawn together to rescue a child from a superstitious community.
Nora, bereft after the death of her husband, finds herself alone and caring for her grandson Micheal, who can neither speak nor walk. A handmaid, Mary, arrives to help Nora just as rumors begin to spread that Micheal is a changeling child who is bringing bad luck to the valley. Determined to banish evil, Nora and Mary enlist the help of Nance, an elderly wanderer who understands the magic of the old ways.
Set in a lost world bound by its own laws, The Good People is Hannah Kent's startling new novel about absolute belief and devoted love. Terrifying, thrilling and moving in equal measure, this follow-up to Burial Rites shows an author at the height of her powers.
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Community Reviews
What’s it about?
This book takes you back to Ireland in the early 1800’s. It is a hard life, full of superstition and fear. Nora find yourself alone after her husband dies. She is left to care for her grandson Michael. Michael can’t speak or walk. Nora is desperate to find out what is the matter with him.
What did it make me think about?
This book is full of Irish folklore. It looks back at a world of fairies and “the good people” to give us a glimpse at how the rural Irish tried to make sense of their world. Ms. Kent uses the story of Nóra and her grandson to give us a glimpse into a forgotten world.
Should I read it?
I read Hannah Kent’s first book, “Burial Rites”, and really liked it. Her writing is beautiful- especially when she describes the natural world. This book is also well written, but throughout most of the novel I did not feel much connection to the characters. Nora’s desperation to cure her grandson is something any person could understand but how her beliefs shaped his “cure” did make for an interesting premise for a novel. The Irish superstitions and folklore are so interesting that I would still recommend this one.
Quote-
“What had happened? What had her daughter done to lose her son? Had she not crossed his face with ashes? Not bit his fingernails until he was nine weeks old? Not sprinkled his mouth with salt, or barred his cradle with iron? All women knew how to protect their children from abduction. A hazel stick by the door. Milk spilt after stumbling.”
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