I'm not one for reading my way through the bestseller lists; I much prefer hunting down more unusual books that slip by unnoticed, or are just plain unfashionable. For this reason, I love trying debut novels; yet most of them have tell-tale signs of someone still learning their craft. This one - not a flaw in sight. It's so refreshing to read something so unformulaic; you can't see what's coming, although you know it's not going to end well.

It's described by the reviewers as a fable, which is fair, as it serves as a warning - or perhaps a lament, as it's really too late for us - of what we lose when the world changes too quickly. But it's also an engrossing story, with fully realised characters living in an imaginary village that we can nonetheless believe in. (Actually, if I can't live in Hobbiton, I wouldn't object to living in Mandragora.) We see the story through the eyes of Yves, the village inventor and a deep thinker, who takes in the stranger, Ruth; and it is his observations of the differences between her modern way of thinking and questioning, and Mandragora's ability to appreciate and celebrate life as it is - when it's good - that was most hard-hitting for me.

I leave you with the wise words of Mandrik, Yves' brother, the holy man:

"The strangers have shown us many wonders and divers inventions; but they have not shown us any surpassing insight into the human spirit. If it is possible for man to learn so deeply in one field of inquiry, all the while ignoring another, then I must urge you, my brethren, to take heed, for the worst of our sorrows is surely yet to come."