Lanny

Not far from London, there is a village.   This village belongs to the people who live in it and to those who lived in it hundreds of years ago. To families dead for generations, and to those who have only recently moved here.   But it also belongs to Dead Papa Toothwort who has woken from his slumber in the woods.

From the author of Grief Is the Thing with Feathers


Longlisted for the Booker Prize

'Startling, moving and overwhelming . . . Wonderful.' Daily Telegraph

'A devastating, disquieting and exhilarating book.' Psychologies

'Books this good don't come along very often.' Maggie O'Farrell

'Stunning and deeply affecting.' Nathan Filer

'A magically beguiling work, a triumph.' Financial Times

'A thing of total joy . . . thrums with rhythm and life.' Observer

'A remarkable feat of literary virtuosity.' Sunday Times

Not far from London, there is a village.

This village belongs to the people who live in it and to those who lived in it hundreds of years ago. It belongs to England's mysterious past and its confounding present.

It belongs to families dead for generations, and to those who have only recently moved here, such as the boy Lanny, and his mum and dad.

But it also belongs to Dead Papa Toothwort, who has woken from his slumber in the woods. Dead Papa Toothwort, who is listening to them all.