Thornhill

There is a mystery attached to Thornhill, the bleak, dark, deserted house next door. Who is the girl in the window? Why are there dolls in the garden? Thornhill does indeed have a history – but you need to read to find out…

This is a double narrative – a story set in the past (though not such a distant past) and the present. The difference, one story is told through the words; the second through the illustrations. This is not a new format but it carries dangers; will the two stories work together? Here Smy creates a dark and satisfying narrative that is full of tension, and far from cosy. In the past we meet Mary Baines, a young girl in care – for that is what Thornhill is – a care home for children – unloved, selectively mute and bullied. In the present there is Ella, also alone, her father away working for long hours. This is not an original scenario. But Smy draws the reader in. Mary tells her own story; we read it as a diary, direct, unadorned. Ella we meet through Smy’s artwork, full page black and white images punctuated by stark black double spreads. The story builds slowly – unusual, perhaps, for readers accustomed to the action of the graphic novel – but gripping. The author has given us a stark read with an uncomfortable ending – and a question. This is not for the faint-hearted – the sheer size of the book might be daunting – but it will certainly reward those who dare climb through the barbed wire of the end-pages.