The Moth and Moon, by Glenn Quigley

[Ulysses]

The Moth and Moon
BY Glenn Quigley
NineStar Press Publication, 2018
Five stars

The theme of the storm as metaphor, as catalyst, is not unknown in the world of literature. In Glenn Quigley’s lovely, lyrical “The Moth and Moon,” a hurricane sweeps down upon Merryapple Island off the coast of Cornwall, bringing with it the promise of devastation and, oddly enough, redemption.

Blashy Cove, the town on the little island, finds its emotional and cultural center in the ancient, mysterious labyrinth of an inn called the Moth and Moon. It is a town unlike other towns in the British Isles of the 1780s, when the story is set. Merryapple’s creative citizens have embraced technologies little known on the mainland, and have espoused a far more liberal notion of religion and human relationships than would be known in England, Scotland, or Wales at the time. One must simply embrace this bit of twee logic, and I for one was glad to do so.

Merryapple’s liberal view of the world, sadly, does not mean that the citizens of Blashy Cove are without prejudice, as their treatment of lonely oysterman Robin Shipp demonstrates. Nearing fifty, Robin has been alone on the island since his father seemingly abandoned him, raised mostly by family friend, the widowed Morwenna Whitewater. Not that Robin hasn’t got friends – especially the local baker, Edwin Farriner. There is mystery surrounding Robin’s former relationship with toymaker and carver Duncan Hunger, with whom Robin has not spoken in years. There is a bigger mystery surrounding the disappearance of Robin’s father and the death of Mrs. Whitewater’s husband, Barnabas.

All of this small-town drama bubbling beneath the surface is pushed aside when Robin spots a massive storm far off the coast, and calls to his neighbors on Merryapple Island to lock up their houses and congregate at the Moth and Moon for their own safety. It is in this setting that fear and loyalty will play out, dredging up the island’s secrets and forcing this tight-knit community to look closely at Robin Shipp and their own prejudices.

There is nothing sly about Quigley’s story. It is gentle and forthright, heartfelt and replete with kindness. There are no pretty boys making bedroom eyes at each other; only honest middle-aged men grappling with their feelings and their sorrows. While Robin is the star of the show, it is a great ensemble cast who give the reader a keen insight into human nature in all its light and darkness.