Excerpt from The Melody by Jim Crace, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

 Busi, holding what he called his clouting stick at the bloodless, narrow end, stepped out on to the landing, armed, and knowing that he looked absurd. What might those students think if they could see him now? Quiet as feathers, in bare feet, with sleep encrusted eyes and aching calves, dressed only in his summer bed-wear, and feeling frail and foolish, our town's celebrated singer felt his way towards the stairs. It was still implacably dark inside the house. He might as well be blind. The dawn, if there was any dawn so early in the day on flatter ground, had not yet cleared the heights beside the villas to soften the night sky with any of its felted greys. For once the house was entirely free of shadows, such was the saturation of the gloom and the meekness of a bashful moon. There was only creaking blackness and the smell of something he half recognized but could not name just yet.

Excerpted from The Melody by Jim Crace. Copyright © 2018 by Jim Crace. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.