Rachel (not currently receiving notifications) Hall's Reviews > Under the Harrow

3.5 stars

Weighing in at just over the two-hundred-page mark, Under the Harrow is a memorable debut from American author Flynn Berry set in the rural Oxfordshire village that nurse practitioner Rachel Lawrence resides in. A weekend escape from London for Nora to spend time with her sister Rachel, cooking, dog walking and planning their Christmas break to Cornwall is ripped from within her grasp when she discovers that her sisters has been brutally stabbed in her own home with her German shepherd left swinging eerily from the banisters by his lead. The discovery of her sisters body leaves Nora determined to see justice rightly delivered but all the Berry brings their intense sisterly bond comes under the microscope and examined their relationship. Nora quickly makes a decision to set up residence at the local inn and ensure the police stay on their toes, contributing to her scepticism in the justice system is the memory of a brutal assault which Rachel sustained at seventeen-years-old and that has remained unsolved to this day. Fifteen-years in the past but ever present in both sisters minds. A lack of clues and the failure to find the murder weapon is soon followed by Nora's discovery that Rachel's dog is trained to provide security and that her sister was planning to relocate. Fixating on memories of Rachel telling her that "there was something wrong in this town", Nora inveigles herself with the investigating detectives and manages to unsettle almost everyone of Rachel's neighbours and colleagues with her thinly veiled suspicion. Berry largely steers clear of the standard "how well did I really know my sister" plot that proliferates so much of the psychological thriller genre and the emphasis is placed firmly on uncovering the guilty party.

As it is steadily revealed that Rachel's first assault was followed by an obsessive focus on scouring the newspapers for similar incidents, attending court trials and eliminating potential perpetrators, Nora increasingly comes to thinking that Rachel's attacker as a teen may have returned, coming back to finish the job he began all those years ago after tracking her down. As Nora resumes the obsessive news gathering she thinks nothing of stalking the village plumber who she suspects, hoping to incite him to violence and the police to then hone in on him. As Nora reluctantly revisits the events of the night of the first incident and her lingering guilt that she too shares some responsibility she is hellbent on making amends. Given Rachel had clearly never stopped looking for the man of seventeen-years-ago, Nora takes up the mantle with a driven intensity in an attempt to avenge her dead sister.

The stream of consciousness narration by Nora offers an unparalleled exposure to the fierce sisters bond, characterised by a mixture of love, jealously, hatred and guilt shared by both whose tough upbringing under the roof of an alcoholic and negligent father has pushed them into relying on each other. Against a backdrop of an admittedly overly descriptive narrative, Nora lulls readers into a false sense of security before dropping another bombshell insight into their intense relationship. Despite having to wade through the increasingly laborious descriptions which add little to the picture, the moments of raw anguish catch readers off guard, and I admit to running the whole gambit of emotions and a continually fluctuating picture of the bond between the pair. Some of the most heartbreaking moments were Nora's steady collection of anecdotes and stories that she was so eager to recount to Rachel, all followed by the sinking realisation that the opportunity to do so is long gone. As an increasingly tense finale awaits and a powerful but perhaps a little too abrupt conclusion will ensure readers will await Flynn Berry's future efforts.

I once read a humorous quip which has amused me to this day and seems to sum up Nora/Rachel and their fluctuating love/hate fuelled relationship. As the constantly shifting landscape underneath Nora leaves readers questioning her reliability and truthful recounting, bear in mind the following:

"I ate my sister's stash of candy when she wasn't home. Now I'm helping her look for it."

In summary, Under the Harrow is a brilliantly understated piece of writing that shows much promise and whilst the inevitable hype surrounding this novel left me perhaps expecting more I hugely enjoyed reading this. Berry deserves to be commended for the excellence of her portrayal of life in Britain, from the quaint idiosyncrasies of life in a small village to the anonymity of life in London and the brash working class council estate upbringing of the Lawrence sisters.