An exploration of marriage and the rich relationship that can exist between father and daughter, The Riders is a gorgeously wrought novel from the award-winning author Tim Winton.
After traveling through Europe for two years, Scully and his wife Jennifer wind up in Ireland, and on a mystical whim of Jennifer's, buy an old farmhouse which stands in the shadow of a castle. While Scully spends weeks alone renovating the old house, Jennifer returns to Australia to liquidate their assets. When Scully arrives at Shannon Airport to pick up Jennifer and their seven-year-old daughter, Billie, it is Billie who emerges—alone. There is no note, no explanation, not so much as a word from Jennifer, and the shock has left Billie speechless. In that instant, Scully's life falls to pieces.
The Riders is a superbly written and a darkly haunting story of a lovesick man in a vain search for a vanished woman. It is a powerfully accurate account of marriage today, of the demons that trouble relationships, of resurrection found in the will to keep going, in the refusal to hold on, to stand still. The Riders is also a moving story about the relationship between a loving man and his tough, bright daughter.
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The ridersUser Review - Not Available - Book Verdict
The destructive and redemptive powers of love are the focus of this new novel by Winton (That Eye, That Sky, 1987). Fred Scully has gone to Ireland, where he is restoring a dilapidated cottage and ... Read full review
I've enjoyed Tim Winton's writing in the past so I looked forward to this book. I was engaged by Scully in Ireland working on his house, missing his family, working alongside the postman. However when Jennifer failed to show up at the airport and Scully's daughter refused to speak I couldn't follow along on the trip to Greece. It made no sense. No phone call, no reaching out for help with the little girl. The nightmarish quality of the way his "friends" behaved in Greece. I could no longer tolerate the extreme discomfort this book produced in me. I gave up on it. Probably more of a reflection on my mental state than on Winton's writing.