This debut novel is a dark reimagining of The Pied Piper of Hamelin. Things in the town of Upperdown are not as they seem. The Professor struggles with his devotion to proving the Riemann Hypothesis and he walks the streets seeking a solution whilst battling his own deeper preoccupations. The appearance of a stranger in town, the Piano Man, leads to the resolution of the long-term rat infestation but when the town's children start to go missing it is clear something darker has been set in motion.
David Brennan currently resides between Ireland and Asia. He has been nominated for the Hennessy New Irish Writer Award 2019.
He was one of the winners of the Irish Novel Fair 2018. In 2016 he won the Frank O'Connor Mentorship Bursary Award and has been shortlisted for the Bristol Short Story award (2017), the Fish Memoire award (2018) and the Doolin Short Story award (2016). He was longlisted for the Colm Tobin Award (2017).
Over the last few months, époque press has, I think, become my new favourite publisher. In truth, it actually all started back in 2019 when I read “El Hacho” by Luis Carrasco. Then I received Craig Jordan-Baker’s “The Nacullians” as part of my Republic of Consciousness book club subscription. Then I read Lynn Buckle’s “What Willow Says”, a book that I immediately ordered another copy of so that I could give it to a friend. Then Ryan Dennis’s “The Beasts They Turned Away” was long listed for the 2022 Republic of Consciousness prize and sits very near the top of my personal rankings of that list. The Luis Carrasco popped up again with “The Ghosts of Spring” which I loved for the writing in the story it told, but perhaps even more for the way it told a second story without actually telling it.
And now Upperdown. Maths, music, and murder. With a narrative voice unlike any you have read before.
The back cover of the book describes it as a “dark reimagining of ‘The Pied Piper of Hamelin”’. But that is only scratching the surface. Our narrator is The Professor (Joe Schultz). His story telling style takes a few pages to settle into, but once you lock into it, it adds an extra dimension to the story.
The book opens:
I gets up and cranks the whistling tune to the kettle and the bell of a broken belly. Job is physicist. Calculating the curvature of butterfly wings and the amount of resolution needed to determine the thickness of nothing. I knows the flow. At times I can see it, smell it, hear it whispering little trickies in me ears, almost lick the tongue with it, but I can’t capture it. The equations have ceased expanding, become stagnant and now they’s festering. Nothing but a bag of maggots-6, round the think stick of me neck. I’m moving with the flow. I’m inside it. Can’t get out of it. But the flow don’t care. Only I care and my caring breaks me into little bits like the falling saucer.
And we’re off.
The Professor is working on a solution to Riemann’s hypothesis. He’s a physicist and is trying to approach it via quantum theory. But don’t worry: this isn’t a book full of complicated mathematics or science. Although the professor is obsessed with the prime numbers and talks about them quite often. He also knows how many steps he’s taken at any point in the day. And he has perfect pitch and can tell you the key of the wind as it blows around the streets of his town. The Professor is unique.
The town is plagued by rats until (you know this will be the case because you know this is a reimagining the the pied piper) a strange man appears, The Piano Man, who makes the rats disappear. But then the children start to disappear as well. The Professor thinks he knows what is going on and sets out to prove it, all the while haunted by his past and his preoccupation with the primes.
I mean, what’s not to like? Especially if, like me, you have a university degree in maths and have spent your life playing and listening to music.
Needless to say, things don’t play out exactly as The Professor imagines they should. I’ll leave you to read the book to learn about his brother Ned, about the love of his life Beatrice Nolan. And a fairly long list of other things.
You will probably have worked out by now that I thoroughly enjoyed reading this book. There’s maybe just a little too much in it for it to remain in control right through to the end. It’s just a personal view, but it felt a little like it was running away as it drew to a close: characters, clues, red-herrings and the like pile up.
My sixth novel from époque press and all of them are books I would recommend to others. Great stuff.
Buy this book. It is destined to be a classic: a dark and brooding tale which skillfully weaves the fecundity of myth with the austere beauty of numbers and makes of them a song that is as original as it is compelling. Brennan's impressive debut is a night sea voyage which takes the reader on a journey through the deepest chambers of the heart and the darkest corners of the mind. Trust his fierce lyrical prose. Let it be a light to guide you on this dark voyage, because writing this powerful springs only from those who have undertaken the Orphean descent and rose from that harrowing, their gifts purified, the vision redeemed.
It was obvious from the moment I started reading, that this was a story that would seep slyly into my skin and refuse to vacate long after I finished reading. A tale that holds certain similarities to that of The Pied Piper Of Hamelin but with even darker, twisted consequences.
The narrative is hauntingly delectable and unlike anything I have read. Told in first person by the Professor, you are frequently presented with his inner demons and conflicting feelings about the strange man who comes to town, later named The Piano Man. A hint of an accent brings that extra rawness as the reader is fully immersed into the poetic trap of the main character’s voice.
I applaud Brennan for his exquisite detail of developing his characters. The professor, Joe Shultz, may appear to an outsider a normal man yet that is where the deception is most cunning. He is an optical illusion. The reader bares witness to the demise of Joe’s sanity, his grip on reality. He becomes more paranoid and suspicious which pulls him further and further into himself. He is an intelligent character that has perfect pitch and spends most of his time working on the Riemann hypothesis. Brennan builds upon the separation that he has from the townsfolk. It isolates him and encourages the unhinged mind that lurks within him to speak out. This is intensified when he hears of the closeness that the Piano Man and Beatrice Nolan share. Joe tortures himself with jealously and made to feel even more excluded when he overhears some of the townspeople meeting discretely. It’s intriguing stuff as the reader realises that Joe is not a reliable character. It makes you question and wonder if his narrative is honest or a delusion he has made up in his head. There are points where he begins to call himself a rat, a animal and misses the hairy little rodents. It’s fascinating writing that keeps you on edge at all times, never really knowing what to expect.
Within the handful of characters Brennan introduces to the reader, there was one that I favoured the most and that was the town itself; Upperdown. The people live and eat by its bells while accepting the infestation of rats on its streets. This gives Upperdown a sinister ambience that piques my curiosity. The quality of detail that Brennan writes in is enthralling. The reader envisions the sights, sounds and smells of the town. A fine skill that Brennan displays naturally throughout.
Towards the end the atmosphere of Upperdown shifts from the recent disturbing events. The professor talks more and more inside his head and sways towards a darker side. It gives the reader a claustrophobic feeling, a sense that the walls are closing in on them. Brennann leaves you gasping for just enough air to survive, it’s invigorating reading.
I give Upperdown By David Brennan a Four out of Five paw rating.
A haunting tale that prickles the skin and lures you away from reality with its sweet music. Brennan is an exceptional writer that leaves you beautifully bewildered and yearning for more.
Written in a narrative voice that grips you and doesn’t let go. The prose I thinks I is pure poetry throughout. Maddingly original in style and structure, Upperdown is a dark fractured fairy tale with cracks of magic where the light shines through. That light revealed in the musings and insights of our flawed protagonist, as he struggles with the riddles of life and all that is beautiful and beastly in it. Then there’s Upperdown itself, as readers we’re permitted to peer into this strange little town, its oddly likable brood and the secrets, lies and mysterious which make it tick. A very enjoyable novel, which has much to say on the human condition, all very well wrapped and relayed through a creative reimagining of the Pied Piper of Hamelin.
Once I got a hang of the strange pirate/leprechaun dialect I really got into this. It had so many strange and beautiful passages and was at times a dark and lyrical feast. I haven't read many novels like this.
I struggled with this book. I know critically it’s good - It’s amazing in fact. But the choice of not having speech marks and the lack of grammar in some places as an artist choice really grated with me. I found it very hard to follow what was going on. I realise that’s the intention…yet I just found it very hard to understand. Still enjoyed it as a read though. I would recommend it, but if your struggle with reading like I do (dyslexic) you may have a hard time following what’s going on.