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. ( )

Won the Booker Prize. Just magic.

It's one of my favorites; i read it every couple of years and end up muttering very odd swear words for a week or so after.

One of my old favourites. I especially like the scene where the female hero of the story kicks the man's butt in a fight. ( )