View source for Nothing on Earth by Conor O'Callaghan

{{infobox1
|title=Nothing on Earth
|author=Conor O'Callaghan
|reviewer=Sue Magee
|genre=Literary Fiction
|summary=A debut novella which packs one hell of a literary punch. Highly recommended.
|rating=4.5
|buy=Yes
|borrow=Yes
|pages=176
|publisher=Doubleday Ireland
|date=May 2016
|isbn=978-1781620342
|website=http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems-and-poets/poets/detail/conor-ocallaghan
|cover=1781620342
|aznuk=1781620342
|aznus=B018X1L376
}}

On a sweltering night in what is a blisteringly hot summer a young girl hammers at a man's door and when let into the house tells him that her father has disappeared ''too''.  Gradually her story emerges, of a home on one of those estates so common in Ireland after the collapse of the Celtic Tiger with only the occasional house occupied and others only part built.  It could be any one of hundreds of Irish towns at that time and its main feature is the lack of hope that it will never be any better.  Our narrator tells her story, much, he says, as it was told to him and we hear of a life on the edge of poverty, with strange noises in the night, words written in the dust on the windows mirrored by those written in blue ink on her skin.

First it was her mother, Helen, who disappeared and then her aunt, Martina.  Now it's her father and she's the only one left.  She's often mistaken for her mother, even at the age of twelve, and people regularly call her 'Helen'. But, to what extent can we trust her story?  And just ''how'' reliable is our narrator?

Don't be misled by the fact that this is a novella.  Every word in the book earns its keep and it packs one hell of a literary punch: it's a big story told in remarkably few words.  The evocation of place - wherever it might be - is perfect.  You can taste the dust and see the skeleton of the unfinished, never-to-be finished estate and no one believes the agent's statements that a family from the midlands will be moving in 'shortly'.  The story moves around people, none of whom you would care to trust, but you sense too that they inhabit that place where honesty is the prerogative of those who can afford it.

There's a major twist towards the end of the book when we find out the occupation of our narrator and so much of what has gone before becomes not so much clear as rather more ambiguous.  It plays into the fears of many people - and not just in modern-day Ireland - and it's a masterstroke.  I'm deliberately avoiding telling you what the man does: you should not be deprived of that 'lightbulb' moment.

If you were to start reading the book, you could well be finished in about three hours.  I found that it took considerably longer as I couldn't resist going back and rereading sections just for the pleasure of the words and then to spot all the signs that I'd missed - there were plenty.  I'd like to thank the publishers for sending a copy to the Bookbag: reading was a real pleasure.

If this book appeals to you then we think that you might enjoy [[The Spinning Heart by Donal Ryan]] - the plot is more slight than ''Nothing on Earth'' but it's a masterpiece of construction and taps into the state of rural Ireland.  Better still is Ryan's [[The Thing About December by Donal Ryan|The Thing About December]].

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