Penitents

Synopsis

Seven days of confession. One secret room. A dying inquisitor.

Barbastro, Aragon, 1484. The period of grace is almost at an end. Félix Fernán Santángel – carpenter, knife grinder, coffin maker, converso – comes to confess his heresies to Brother Pedro Gaspar Juglar, an inquisitor who is dying.

Over seven days, ordered by the spiritual exercises – Sin, Death, Hell, Judgment, the Passion, Our Lady, Glory – Félix talks. He names his neighbours, and names only the dead and the fled. In the death house, behind a wall of blue wood starred with yellow, he has built something no one has asked about.

Recording every word is a notary with a secret room of his own.

Praise for Previous Work

‘(On Something Might Fall) With its different timelines, several key characters and shifting points of view in a complex narrative, this is an outstanding novel.’ —Nicholas Royle, TLS

‘(On Something Might Fall) The Best New Fiction Set in the 1970s, this slender New York tale begins in the perspective of Emma, a writer trapped by her life as hostess wife to a philandering doctor, worryingly keen to put her on pills. Then we cut to her son, opening a letter from her on his 11th birthday, four years after her death. Flusfeder’s sinuous prose miraculously crams all the emotional drama of a multivolume family saga into just 80 pages.’ —Anthony Cummins, Mail on Sunday

‘(On Something Might Fall) This novel is divided into two halves. The first is an insightful study of the marriage of Emma Hoffman, a successful writer who “sees it all … ” and her Park Avenue doctor husband. It’s 1970 and on the surface they are a perfect, successful couple but all’s not well: “ … he pretends not to notice the glittery bright darkness that surrounds them.” It’s a morality tale in living a lie. The beginning employs an enjoyable, concise prose that condenses information. The second part follows their son as he wanders on his 11th birthday, grappling with the difficult relationship with his dad. Also … but let’s not spoil it. The second half perks up with the introduction of a homeless guy. This short book is sporadically moving and insightful.’ —Kevin Gildea, The Irish Times

‘(On Something Might Fall) With a grace and sophistication that leaves one marvelling … In an even more subtle way, the book is a work of genius.’ —Nadya Chishty-Mujahid, Dawn