You'll see the word "difficult" in a lot of reviews of this book, and it's fully justified. The major characters are thorny and sometimes horrible people, and the majority of the minor ones are no better; there's really no one to latch onto and feel the book revolve around. There's room for sympathy for all of them, but you'll probably leave the book not really liking any of them.

That being said, I love this book, and it made me a fan of Hulme's work as a whole, in large part because of the other aspect that raises the word "difficult," her writing style. Her prose is stunningly poetic, and perfectly in tune with the deeply mythic thread that brings the story together. That the redemption of the characters -- Joe in particular -- is non-Christian and incomplete has upset a lot of people I've handed this book to, but it seemed only right to me; would happily-ever-after have been even slightly believable? Seen as a story of the destructive forces of anger and emotional isolation, and the healing to be found in surrender and accepting help, I think this book unfolds in a way that's intense, amazing, and uplifting, even as it turns some of the most bleak and painful soil you're ever likely to encounter. ( )

This is definitely an amazing read in terms of language; it's some of the most poetic prose I've ever read, but (at least until the very last section) the showiness of the language doesn't make the story slow at all. The final part seems to come out of nowhere, but it might just needing more than one reading. The abuse is horrifying and like a lot of other readers I found it hard to forgive the characters; but at the same time it is nice to read a book that allows its characters to remain complicated (and cruel) the whole way through. It's also pretty impressive that there isn't much in the way of action in the book; everything that happens takes place between three characters, and the story is just how their relationship changes. The ending seems pretty unrealistic, but within the logic of the book I think it works. ( )

Hulme's work is difficult—both because of her prose style and because of her subject matter. I admired the first quite a lot, but found it difficult to reconcile myself with many aspects of the latter, particularly as the book wore on. The first part of the book was so resolutely realistic that I found the later quasi-magical realistic elements to be a little jarring. I also found myself... well, almost repulsed by the ending. Hulme, I think, wants the reader to have found enough sympathy for Joe to sustain the book's optimistic ending. After the graphic and sustained depiction of child abuse, however, that was impossible for me.

The language is certainly beautiful, and as a story of cultural renewal in a post-colonial landscape, it's intensely powerful. I do not regret having read The Bone People, and there is a lot to take away from it. I just don't know if I will be able to come back to it. ( )

I am having a hard time digesting this book. I was glad I read it after reading a memoir/history of New Zealand so that I understood a bit more of the wonderful folklore and Maori myth woven into this story. I still can't decide, however, if I can accept that a parent who deals repeated, disfiguring, violent abuse can be understood, forgiven, and given a second redeeming chance. Am I being realistic or uncharitable? Am I seeing things only from the point of view of a white, European-descended Pakeha? I found the story beautiful, yet disturbing. Although the ending made sense in the context of the book, outside the author's magical spell, I don't know that I can accept it. ( )

I found the wandering style hard to grasp, and the subject matter, and abused boy, hard to stomache. Couldn't finish it. ( )