It's been raining for a long time now, so long that the land has reshaped itself and old rituals and religions are creeping back into practice. Sisters Isla, Irene, and Agnes have not spoken in some time when their father, an architect as cruel as he was revered, dies. His death offers an opportunity for the sisters to come together in a new way. In the grand glass house they grew up in, their father's most famous creation, the sisters sort through the secrets and memories he left behind, until their fragile bond is shattered by a revelation in his will. The sisters are more estranged than ever, and their lives spin out of control: Irene's relationship is straining at the seams, Isla's ex-wife keeps calling, and cynical Agnes is falling in love for the first time. But something even more sinister might be unfolding, something related to their mother's long-ago disappearance and the strangers who have always seemed unusually interested in the sisters' lives. Soon, it becomes clear that the sisters have been chosen for a very particular purpose, one with shattering implications for their family and their imperiled world.
Captivating ... Probing ... Armfield forgoes sentimental scenes and simple answers for suspense and horror, building an eerie mystery around an incident in Carmichael’s own house ... Armfield invites us in, honoring the greatness and darkness of Lear’s drama. Then, thrillingly, she starts throwing stones.
So compelling partly because both the narrator and the protagonists feel intensely drawn to this watery world, even as they know it signals their end ... Armfield is always committed to experiments with genre and here she rips away realism, suggesting the old novelistic forms are as inadequate now as the half‑hearted forms of political protest that take place in the background.
