The Son of Man

Before we get into it: where did you read this one, and did you need a blanket, a cup of something, or a dog nearby to get through it?

Del Amo writes weather and mountains like they are alive. Which bit of the landscape did you feel most in your body: cold, rain, altitude, dark, or that particular silence?

This is a book about a father trying to make a home in a place that has mostly given up on being one. What made a place feel like home to you as a child, and was it the building or the people?

There are moments of real gentleness between the father and the boy. Which small kindness stayed with you, and did it comfort you or make you more uneasy?

The boy spends a lot of the book watching an adult and trying to read him. When did you first start studying a grown-up that closely, and what were you trying to figure out?

Animals and the natural world are everywhere here, sometimes tender, sometimes brutal. Did the nature writing soothe you or set you on edge, and were you surprised by which?

The novel keeps circling the idea that something gets handed down from father to son whether anyone wants it or not. Reading it, did you feel hopeful about the chance of breaking that chain, or sad about it? Be as honest as you want, we're all comfortable here.

Without saying how things land, what feeling were you left holding when you closed the book, and was there anything in it that you found genuinely comforting to carry away?