“Who are the ghosts again, us or our dead?”

Sarah Moss’ (not to be confused with the other one) “Ghost Wall” was a brief but heavy examination of a family unit in disrepair, fracturing between a father’s obsessive nostalgia and a daughter’s hunger for modernity. Moss crafted a tense narrative, made even more stringent by the combative descriptions of nature’s unique divinity and man’s controlling, ubiquitous lust for power. There’s real fear in these pages and it’s ancient, dawn of time type stuff. “Ghost Wall” isn’t glamorous or flashy, but the roots lie beneath the bog itself.

The ending was abrupt and grated against the flow of the novella: the build up was a defining feature and the reasoning behind the tension, the conclusion deserved something more palpable.

3.5/5 Bog bodies are uniquely the neatest coolio thing and also “why did I Google that at 2am”