I have enjoyed Hurley’s previous novels (Starve Acre, Devil’s Day and The Loney) and was expecting more of his eerie, atmospheric wheelhouse. But ‘Barrowbeck’ was very disappointing. To beginning with, despite what the inside dust jacket indicates, it’s not really a novel. It’s more a collection of short stories, vignettes even, set across time from the distant past to the near future. The connection, and supposed main character, is Barrowbeck, a village in Yorkshire where strange things have always happened. Which is fine except the strangeness is only diluted over the thirteen stories (apparently they started as a series of short stories for radio and frankly this sounds like the better format for them) that have essentially no other connection apart from the location. And, like any other collection, there is inconsistent quality. The good ones are very good (I do like Hurley’s grasp of place and atmosphere); others are of little consequence and had me skimming over passages, which is something I never want to do. When I began ‘Barrowbeck’, I was getting flashes of other works such as Benjamin Myers’ brilliant ‘Cuddy’ (a novel set over time about the life and influence of St Cuthbert) and even Alan Garner’s wildly challenging, but wonderful ‘Red Shift’. But Hurley’s collection offers none of the richness, none the glue that makes the other two novels remarkable. ‘Barrowbeck’ is, unfortunately, mainly people doing weird stuff or some weird things happening to people (not even that weird if you’re used to reading weird stuff) in one place. I honestly wish it was better.