KALA

Irish author Walsh makes an assured debut with this gritty heartbreaker of a thriller.

On the west coast of Ireland sits the tourist town of Kinlough, where, in 2003, six teenage friends—Kala, Aoife, Helen, Aiden, Joe, and Mush—are enjoying the “summer of [their] lives,” daring each other to race their bikes down a hill across a busy main road, exploring first love, and building tight emotional bonds. When 15-year-old Kala, the gang’s charismatic but troubled leader, disappears in November, the friends’ relationships fracture: “There was no clear point where you made the decision to let your lives unbraid themselves from one another.” Fifteen years later, three of the friends meet up again. Hard-edged Helen, now a freelance journalist living in Canada, has reluctantly returned home for her father’s wedding to Pauline Lyons, Mush’s aunt. Joe, a self-absorbed rock star with a drinking problem, is back to relaunch a local music venue with a summer residency, and the solitary Mush, self-conscious about his facial scars, has never gone anywhere, preferring to sit in his mother’s cafe drinking beer and watching the summer visitors. But the discovery of Kala’s bones at a building site and the disappearance of Mush’s 16-year-old twin cousins propel the trio to reconsider their past in a dangerous search for the truth. Skillfully blending the psychological complexity of a literary novel with the propulsive pace of a thriller, the author juggles three disparate points of view (including a second-person perspective) and two timelines with masterful flair. His striking prose (“hair pineappled into an elegant mess”) is flavored with colorful Irish slang (“beor,” “craic”) without becoming twee. The handy cast of characters clarifies the family relationships, but at times the convoluted plot is confusing as it builds to a haunting conclusion.

Part heartfelt coming-of-age tale, part brutal Irish noir, this is a spectacular read for Donna Tartt and Tana French fans.