There is some terrific pastoral poetry in this memoir of decay
Farmer’s son Auguste is on the cusp of adolescence, at that most delicate of moments when his enthusiasm for manhood is conflicted with an instinct to cry out for his safe-guarded childhood. An exotic visitor, Cecile, becomes a cipher for unfulfilled desires, and not just those of the lust-panged 13-year-old.
There is some terrific pastoral poetry in this memoir of decay. And while the metaphors of corrosion are occasionally overplayed, the perpetual sense of an ending – the cracked land, the fading of love, and the passing of youth – gives it a memorable melancholia.
Year of the Drought, Roland Buti, out now (Old Street, £10.99)