There is nothing wrong with Bobby Palmer’s “Isaac and the Egg”. Indeed the central conceit as to whether the egg is real or simply a figment of Isaac’s imagination – or some kind of metaphor for his mental and emotional state – is handled well and maintained throughout. Perhaps what’s even more satisfying is that the conundrum (if indeed it is that) is never quite resolved.
In some ways there’s more than an element of Frank Capra’s marvellous “It’s a Wonderful Life” about the whole thing. Having said that – and in spite of its powerful depiction of grief – the book didn’t quite spark for me. I don’t know, perhaps it was a little too ‘whimsical’, or stretched credibility a bit too far.
Looking at the cover again I note the endorsements, including from Grazia and Stylist. Hardly in the mainstream of literary appreciation. I’ve been lured by Stylist praise before, and swore I wouldn’t be again. Perhaps that’s lesson learned – and for the second time.
Ian Gouge - Writer 