Ceridwen Dovey’s tantalising fable, Blood Kin, was presented with a gold-plated carrot at the weekend such as only the New York Times can proffer.
The book’s plot lines “fold together as elegantly as origami” says reviewer Dave Itzkoff.
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Someday, comrades, an imaginative mind may yet conjure up for us an ideal of a benevolent dictator: a man of steel who amasses power so he can give it back to the people he usurped it from; a philosopher-king who rights wrongs, balances economic inequities and still has the good sense to relinquish his control, who gets the trains to run on time and promptly splits town on the 5:15. You know, a fiction.
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By Ceridwen Dovey.
183 pp. $23.95.
Until then, we’ll have to make due with the two garden-variety tyrants whose iron fists hang over the action of “Blood Kin,” Ceridwen Dovey’s precise and terrifying debut novel. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, for while the novel’s spell lasts, it can feel like the earliest, exhilarating days under a new administration, when a pliant populace is eager and willing to follow wherever a confident leader directs us.
- Blood Kin by Ceridwen Dovey
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