These characters are finely drawn and wholly sympathetic, their lives rendered in precise, poignant detail. The female characters particularly are gifted with uncommon clarity, each of a different kind ... Though Setterfield writes emotions with marvelous truth and subtlety, her most stunning prose is reserved for evocative descriptions of the natural world, creating an immersive experience made of light, texture, scent and sensation ... The novel’s central mysteries are dispatched in one dramatic scene that feels overwrought, especially given that this is not a tightly plotted whodunit so much as a story for those who appreciate the tale’s telling as much as its end...
A mesmerizing, moody tale of identity, family, secrets, and storytelling ... The story unfolds at an almost maddeningly slow pace until, at last, all the truths are revealed. Setterfield fills this richly layered plot with a fascinating cast of memorable characters who weave in and out of each other’s lives.
In Diane Setterfield’s Once Upon a River, you won’t forget that you’re reading a story—its language and framework are almost constantly calling attention to the story’s story-ness—but you probably won’t mind, either. It’s a corker of a story, full of moody elegance, as a good Gothic should be ... The characters Setterfield devises for the novel are every bit as colorful and mysterious as you would hope them to be ... Whether you raptly follow this story all the way to its conclusion or drift away partway through will probably depend on two things: how urgently do you want to know who that little girl really is? And does the story-ness of it all increase your enjoyment of the book or interfere with it? ... If you like your stories intricately woven, dark but not grim, and shared with warmth and sparkle, you won’t regret putting yourself in this storyteller’s hands.
... Once Upon A River is magical, in every which way ... It’s the power of [Setterfield’s] storytelling that allows readers to suspend disbelief, and draws them through each tangled, dazzling chapter ... Is it possible for a novel to be a classic despite obvious flaws? The closing chapters feel gimmicky, the denouement wildly melodramatic — but then Setterfield swoops in with a final, breathtaking paragraph, shimmering with ancient dread and magic. Once Upon A River’s winding course drags you down into the reeds and marshy depths in places, but Setterfield’s imagination is powered by an otherworldly force. This riverine novel has the mood and feel of a ghost story told late into the night, and will win over readers who enjoy a touch of age-old enchantment.
Once Upon a River takes more than a few pages to begin properly, even though it kicks off with a promisingly dramatic event ... The primary characters are all good people, drawn in bold strokes without much shading; the influence here seems more Dickens than Brontë, albeit without the comic brio ... Because these antagonists mostly lurk in the background, their motives unclear until near the story’s end, the conflict must be generated among the admirable leads ... [The book] cannot be called a page-turner, certainly not in the order of the previous book, yet ultimately it is a success ... In spots, the prose could use some polish... but originality has never been Setterfield’s strong suit. She serves you bread and cheese, but it is very good bread and cheese, the sort of meal that is often more satisfying than fancier stuff.
Setterfield masterfully assembles an ensemble of wounded, vulnerable characters who, nevertheless, live by the slimmest margins of hope ... Celebrates the timeless secrets of life, death, and imagination—and the enduring power of words. Fans, rejoice! Definitely more The Thirteenth Tale than Bellman and Black.
Setterfield braids miracle and mystery in this marvelous tale ... By combining flavors of some of Britain’s very best writers—a hint of Austen’s domestic stories, a tinge of Tolkien’s more folkloric elements, and a dash of mystery from Christie—Setterfield has created a tale not to be missed.
