The book uses three different narrators to tell the tale of a family stranded on an island after the great flood. It's a little annoying at first - the youngest narrator Finn uses spelling and syntax that makes Huck Finn look like a college graduate. Eventually the story moves past his narrative when a stranger comes to the island. That's when it gets a bit better. It's still a little too heavy handed and implausible - I feel like the author didn't double-check his work. There are a few too many plot holes to be able to comfortably fall into a willing suspension of disbelief without having to really work at doing so. ( )

The great flood has washed away the whole world, except for Pa, Alice, Finn, and Daisy. Pa saw the signs and built and ark, which delivered them safely to the island where they have lived all alone for the past 6 years -- alone until the "dark mark" appears on the horizon, and approaches their island. Their security, their survival, and their trust in all they know is in jeopardy.

The story begins with Pa as the narrator, who speaks almost in tongues. When he's not shouting f**k, his favorite word, he's quoting the bible, describing the old world and their past life as Babylon. He shouts words like greed, celebrity, and money to himself or out loud, we're never sure. His sanity is of question from the first page. Then the narration jumps between Pa and Finn, the eight year-old son, whose phonetic language, which takes a while to understand, was something I never got used to reading. When the children start to question how their memories and the stories their Pa tells them don't match up, Finn says, "The memrys are fine Alice theres no thing rong with em. You orter treasure em. Jus dont be leave in em too strongly cus like mos memrys theyre lusions theyre not real." Of course, young Finn is just repeating what Pa had told him about their memories being contaminated and wrong. Pa especially doesn't want them remembering too much about their mother. Towards the end of the book, Alice, the eldest sibling and teenager of the group, adds her perspective. Since she has only read the bible, Shakespeare, and fairy tales, her voice takes on a romantic feel, exaggerated by the drama every teenager injects into their lives.

Without giving too much away, I can say the "dark mark" turns out to be Finn, a man who Pa knew from the old world, and turns this family upside down. Everything the children were told by their Pa will be questioned, especially that which has to do with their mother. They live on an island, but their father refuses to teach them how to swim, and they are finally starting to question why. I found the story as dark as I had expected it to be. The narration, while awkward at first, helped to balance out the psychotic ramblings of the father with the progression of the storyline, which we got more from the children.

The book was predictable in a "haven't I heard this story before?" kind of way. The father in The Island at the End of the World especially reminded me of the father from The Mosquito Coast by Paul Theroux. The end, which you could guess half way through the book, was awfully abrupt. I guess since the big reveal in the book was predictable, the readers are expected to guess what happens after we turn the last page as well. If you're looking for a dark, twisty tale of a post-apocalyptic world from the mind of a man having a 6-year nervous breakdown, this is the book for you ( )

The story is based on a relatively straightforward idea of a man and his three children living in the wreck of an ark on an island,
apparently the only remaining survivors of a Great Flood. From this, Sam Taylor has woven an intriguing fable that becomes more compelling as it progresses. In addition to the obvious biblical references, the overlapping narratives, intermittent streams of consciousness and interwoven quotations from Shakespeare make this a complex read but not a difficult one and this is a significant achievement. The first part of the novel is alternately narrated by 8-year-old Finn and his father; in the second half Alice provides a third perspective. In order to make these voices distinct Finn's passages are marked by the use of phonetic spelling, which initially irritated me with its inconsistency (he spells "ice cold" as "I-scold" yet "dangerous" is correct) but helped to create his point of view. Meanwhile, Pa's sections are punctuated by biblical diatribes and the tortured rantings of a deeply troubled mind to create a truly terrifying character who nevertheless does enlist the reader's sympathy. The arrival of an 'outsider' on the island inevitably disturbs the family's idyllic existence and provides an additional hint (besides others given earlier on) that things are not as they seem. From here the momentum and emotion build to a truly gripping conclusion. Many
readers will find the ending disappointing in its ambiguity but it did not spoil my enjoyment of reading this fantastic novel.

At first glance, this is another of the flood (sorry) of children's post-environmental apocalypse novels reflecting the (justified) panic about what we've done to ourselves and the world.

Taylor's novel is a cut above all of them. It isn't plucky kids getting by: it takes in madness, obsession, sexuality, knowledge and culture. The writing is challenging, exciting and heavily Joycean. This isn't a novel you can consume and forget about - phrases and events will weigh heavily on your mind for weeks afterwards, and it repays rereading.

A slim volume with a paper thin plot, this mish mash of huck finn and the tempest wears its literary allusions for all to see and none to admire.

The central "modern Noah" premise is not new, but is for the most part well used, creating a page turner by relying on different voices telling the same story, frequently overlapping to great effect.

What destroys the novel though is the macguffin plot twist. It announces itself with heavy footsteps halfway through the book, but you'll presume it unfeasible and carry on reading. Sadly, it remains entirely unfeasible right up to the last fullstop, at which point you'll stop forgiving the book for its other inconsistencies. Such as all of the children entirely forgetting how they came to be there in the first place.

In a word, infuriating. ( )