A WALKER IN THE EVENING

A former priest confronts his demons in this intimate gothic tale.

Owchar’s debut novel opens in 1909 in Galicia, a rural Ukrainian province that adheres to various superstitions, one of which holds that, every night, a different person conducts a walk through the town carrying a “totem” that’s supposed to ward off any troubling spirits. On duty this night is the narrator, Yuri, who grew up in the region but then took a lengthy detour to England—where, anglicizing his name to George Frost, he entered the Catholic priesthood. Gifted at homiletics in divinity school, he won a prized assignment to a church in London, where his provocative sermons caught the attention of not just parishioners but a prominent theater critic. As word spread around his gift for oratory, he entered the inner circle of poet and artist Dante Gabriel Rossetti and poet Algernon Charles Swinburne. This experience charmed the artistic-minded George, but proved a mixed blessing: Drawn into a web of marital tension, spiritualists, and illness, he was soon psychically over his head and tempted to abandon his vows. Owchar’s setup is ambitious, and at times the prose and plotting are overly clotted, but he nicely braids the rustic, folkloric nature of the Galician community with the high-toned London Catholic one, and his depictions of poetic wits and salt-of-the-earth farmers are equally graceful. He conjures a slowly intensifying mood of despair, as George/Yuri reveals more about the history, losses, and behavior that drew him away from London. The sermon that caught the hip London crowd suggested that the world is overrun with demons and that God’s intervention is unlikely; Ochwar evokes the sadness, verging on panic, that such a perspective provokes.

A canny and ambitious cross-continental tale of apostolic anxiety.