All three novels are violent and full of injustice and grief, yet they each convey the impact of human failings with a punch. But through the plot, Arnott builds layers of tragedy, reminiscent of The Mere Wife, minus the melodrama. Having seen Ball’s execution, I do wonder if The Rain Heron would have had even more power if it didn’t feel the need to conform to a novel’s threadline. Yet Arnott crafts his impressions into narrative, rather than leaving them as fragments. Thematically, The Rain Heron reminded me of Jesse Ball’s exquisite work The Diver’s Game the feeling of allegory – plot as a warning, characters as ciphers – the oppression of the state, and the cruelties exposed. All parts of the tale, however, are dosed with lessons about human hunger (of all kinds) and violence, but also with the hope a person can change. The final parts are less anchored in magical realism, taking us on the road as these threads unravel into tragedy. But then it shifts again, to a coast, the sea and the secrets of ink. Then it shifts, to a forest, a mother, and – the catalyst – a soldier. The novel begins with a fable, a story of a farm and a bird and eyes.

Readers should not triggers for torture, domestic violence, animal slaughter and deaths by drowning, animal attack and shooting. I swallowed it in one sitting, but know I will pick it back up again, to seek more in the luminescent words. In it, we fall into a tale that’s part fable, part exploration of human falibility, and see the devastating consequences.

The Rain Heron, Arnott’s second novel, is a like the eponymous bird – shimmering, mercurial, and dark.

The rain heron review