Let’s start with what I did not like about The Blackhouse
. I did not like the last 50 pages, where the Deus Ex Machinae (or, in this case, the Devil Ex Machinae, or the Devils, plural, Ex Machinae) suddenly descended to solve the mystery with utter disregard for the careful narrative so far. The rest of the book I found breathtaking, not so much the mystery, although it holds its own until those accursed last 50 pages, but more the landscape of the Isle of Lewis, whose wind stings our skin from the first chapter, and the wonderful character of the detective, who grew up on the island and rediscovers his childhood friends when he is sent there to investigate a murder that resembles one on the mainland. The story is told in alternating chapters between his childhood and the present, and satisfyingly so.
I must note that two key scenes take place as the Lewis islanders go hunting for gannet chicks on a rocky island — which figured in The Old Ways, recently reviewed here. And I can’t resist mentioning that this mystery thoughtfully includes a map of the island, which was sorely missing in the other one.