Some of the stories feel a touch hurried, but Moran's prose is for the most part executed beautifully, with little narrative clutter, a technique that serves to help his characters breathe. He also makes great use of anchoring his similes in his characters' world. Take this from the opening story, Panic:

“The youths were uttering swear words as if they were prayers.”

Moran fails when he calls for us to withhold our disbelief, as in the fantasy-fuelled ‘Beacon and Numbskull.’

Other than in the trite ending, ‘Kenny,’ the story of a man's relationship with his canary, ably demonstrates the author's strengths, as well as his themes: there is bewilderment, loyalty, and a love requiring investment to survive, rather than just being.

For all that is good about ‘The London Silence,’ it is badly packaged, included as it is as the predominant part of a book that contains a wonderful novel, the second half of the book being ‘All Those Endearing Young Charms,’ a novel in reverse, like a protracted, less convoluted ‘Memento’ in print, being written in reverse order, and being about the early life of one Joseph Murphy, an outstandingly well-rounded but sensibly under-stated creation. Moran does not always manage to avoid cliché, but what cliché there is he infuses with such humanity that it barely matters.

This brief novel is a great work. It has all the poise and precision of the earlier stories, but due to its extended length is far more engaging. Each chapter works perfectly as a stand-alone piece, but it is when read as a whole it is best appreciated.

Not all of Pretend Genius' releases are of such merit, and there is some standard-fare indie-press 'experimentalism' in their stable, but they have an edge over many of the other independents, in that there is a co-operative of devoted staff behind their releases, and on them the success or failure of each publication weighs heavy. And they (however small an organisation currently) have put their money where their mouth is, by producing high quality good-looking books using traditional printers.

All in all, both ‘The London Silence’ and Pretend Genius Press come with my sincerest recommendation.

Neil Ayres was born in East London in 1979. He left school with a handful of GCSEs when he was 16 and has worked at times (and in no particular order) as a warehouseman, a cattery hand, a copy-shop assistant, a barman, a professional dog trainer and a cheap alternative to a computer database. He currently works in publishing. He lives on the Surrey/Sussex border in a house without a resident cat, though if there was one it could live without fear of being swung, as there’s not enough room to do such a thing. Neil is project manager for the ‘Book of Voices,’ an anthology of short stories due to be published by Flame Books in March 2005 in an attempt to raise awareness of the work of the Sierra Leone office of International PEN. Neil is also a member of Godisin, the first TTA writers’ workshop. In between all of the above, he is trying to get round to finishing his second novel and finding a decent agent. To read Neil’s story, ‘Changeling’ on the Showcase section of this site, click here or for more reviews by Neil, visit The New Review index here.

© 2005 Laura Hird All rights reserved.