'This strange story of love and loneliness, which explores how we all long to belong, is simply wonderful.' Daily Mail
When, in 1859, George Hills is pulled from the wreck of the steamship Admella, he carries with him the uneasy memory of a fellow survivor. Someone else - or something else - kept him warm as he lay dying, half-submerged in the freezing Southern Ocean, kept him bound to life.
As George adapts to his life back on land, he can't quite escape the feeling that he wasn't alone when he emerged from the ocean that day, that a familiar presence has been watching him ever since. What the creature might want from him - his life? His first-born? Simply to return to its home? - will pursue him, and call him back to the water, where it all began.
'[A] singular novel . . . [From the Wreck] movingly explores themes of loss, loneliness and guilt.' Guardian
'An absorbing, disturbing read, full of deep currents and lurking fears.' Adrian Tchaikovsky, Arthur C. Clarke Award-winning author of The Children of Time
'This strange story of love and loneliness, which explores how we all long to belong, is simply wonderful.' Daily Mail
When, in 1859, George Hills is pulled from the wreck of the steamship Admella, he carries with him the uneasy memory of a fellow survivor: someone else - or something else - kept him warm as he lay dying, half-submerged in the freezing Southern Ocean, kept him bound to life.
As George adapts to his life back on land, he can't quite escape the feeling that he wasn't alone when he emerged from the ocean that day, that a familiar presence has been watching him ever since. What the creature might want from him - his life? His first-born? Simply to return to its home? - will pursue him, and call him back to the water, where it all began.
'[A] singular novel . . . [From the Wreck] movingly explores themes of loss, loneliness and guilt.' Guardian
'An absorbing, disturbing read, full of deep currents and lurking fears.' Adrian Tchaikovsky, Arthur C. Clarke Award-winning author of The Children of Time
Something approaching an old-fashioned historical yarn spliced with Cronenbergian body horror . . . The commonplace rubbing shoulders with the supernatural adds to the book's considerations of mourning and absence a vivid hue . . . a genuine tension and sense of dread.
