Prophet Song: LONGLISTED FOR THE BOOKER PRIZE 2023 by Paul Lynch

Author:Paul Lynch
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Dystopia;Speculative fiction;Dystopian fiction;Motherhood;Mother;Family;Ireland;Irish;Dublin;Here Are the Young Men;Jon McGregor;Station Eleven;Emily St John Mandel;The New Wilderness;Diane Cook;The Magician;Colm Toibin;The Heart's Invisible Furies;The Echo Chamber;John Boyne;Rob Doyle;Night Boat to Tangier;That Old Country Music;From a Low and Quiet Sea;Donal Ryan;Shuggie Bain;Douglas Stuart;Kevin Barry;Grace;The Black Snow;Red sky in the Morning;Beyond the Sea;Irish Fiction;Kerry Group Irish Novel of the Year Award
Publisher: Oneworld Publications
Published: 2023-07-26T16:14:47+00:00

She studies the lamb, bastes it with a ladle and closes the oven door, hearing somebody step into the living room, she looks past Molly and sees Samantha standing with her hands folded before her. Mam, I invited Sam to dinner. Oh, she says, forcing herself to smile, Molly meeting her with a defiant look. She hangs the oven gloves and goes to the sink, hearing the girls on the couch talking about who knows what, this feeling of dread for her son brought by sight of the girl, this fear that knows every part of her. She closes her eyes and when she opens them she is met with the evening light yellowed almost to an aroma, seeing a blackbird plump under the tree, watching the bird absolute in its moment, to live like that, to come and go under an open sky. She removes the tray of roast potatoes from the oven and calls them to dinner, Samantha standing languid by the door still meek with her hands yet happy to be among them. She studies the girl still sensing her own scorn, this feeling she is an intruder, it is then she seeks Samantha’s eye and smiles, motions for her to sit down, seeing how they are both flung, how they are both caught in the same unknowing, knowing they both seek the same thing of her son. Bailey is peering through the oven door. Mam, he says, you left the meat in too long, you’re going to dry it out. She watches his face seeking for Larry who has spoken through the boy’s mouth. The oven is off, she says, why don’t you take it out yourself? Bailey places the meat on the counter then stands back and surveys it, pleased with himself. Molly says, Mam, I thought you said you couldn’t get a roast in the butcher’s. I had to walk to Kilmainham to get it, there’s shortages now don’t you know. The yellow light goldens and the dusk falls throughout dinner and she has forgotten to turn on the overhead light, watching them fall into shadow, watching Molly as though she were a different child, how her spirit has brightened beside Samantha. Bailey takes a drink of milk and asks if the country is now at war and Eilish studies the milk moustache and the question in his eyes. They are calling it an insurgency on the international news, Molly says, but if you want to give war its proper name, call it entertainment, we are now TV for the rest of the world. Samantha places her knife and fork down against her plate. My dad calls it terrorism, that’s what he says, these people are nothing but terrorists, they are going to get what’s coming to them, he shouts this at the TV. Eilish looks away and Molly is silent watching her plate. This lamb is lovely don’t you think, Eilish says, such a pity Mark is not here. She moves the knife

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