This is the journalist Tom Lamont’s first novel, and it has the kind of plot that feels fine tuned and long thought out. A lot happens in a small space ... I can’t say I loved the tidiness of the ending, but I’ve read Going Home twice now and I still don’t feel as if I’ve tapped its power. Children seem to be more alive than adults, keener, less jaded, and this novel feels the same, pepped up and gorgeous, just bristling with life.
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