Genre Fiction
![Emma Stonex - [object Object] author](https://res.cloudinary.com/readsomnia/image/upload/authors/a_B08N6TF5MD.jpg)
The Lamplighters: A Novel
"Transported me effortlessly…Haunting, harrowing and heartbreaking, this is a novel that will stay with you." --Ashley Audrain, New York Times bestselling author of The Push
"A ghost story and fantastically gripping psychological investigation rolled into one. It is also a pitch-perfect piece of writing. . . . As with Shirley Jackson's work or Sarah Waters's masterpiece Affinity, in Stonex's hands the unspoken, unexamined, unseen world we can call the supernatural, a world fed by repression and lies, becomes terrifyingly tangible." --The Guardian (London)
Inspired by a haunting true story, a gorgeous and atmospheric novel about the mysterious disappearance of three lighthouse keepers from a remote tower miles from the Cornish coast--and about the wives who were left behind.
What strange fate befell these doomed men? The heavy sea whispers their names. Black rocks roll beneath the surface, drowning ghosts. And out of the swell like a finger of light, the salt-scratched tower stands lonely and magnificent.
It's New Year's Eve, 1972, when a boat pulls up to the Maiden Rock lighthouse with relief for the keepers. But no one greets them. When the entrance door, locked from the inside, is battered down, rescuers find an empty tower. A table is laid for a meal not eaten. The Principal Keeper's weather log describes a storm raging round the tower, but the skies have been clear. And the clocks have all stopped at 8:45.
Two decades later, the keepers' wives are visited by a writer determined to find the truth about the men's disappearance. Moving between the women's stories and the men's last weeks together in the lighthouse, long-held secrets surface and truths twist into lies as we piece together what happened, why, and who to believe.
In her riveting and suspenseful novel, Emma Stonex writes a story of isolation and obsession, of reality and illusion, and of what it takes to keep the light burning when all else is swallowed by dark.
"A ghost story and fantastically gripping psychological investigation rolled into one. It is also a pitch-perfect piece of writing. . . . As with Shirley Jackson's work or Sarah Waters's masterpiece Affinity, in Stonex's hands the unspoken, unexamined, unseen world we can call the supernatural, a world fed by repression and lies, becomes terrifyingly tangible." --The Guardian (London)
Inspired by a haunting true story, a gorgeous and atmospheric novel about the mysterious disappearance of three lighthouse keepers from a remote tower miles from the Cornish coast--and about the wives who were left behind.
What strange fate befell these doomed men? The heavy sea whispers their names. Black rocks roll beneath the surface, drowning ghosts. And out of the swell like a finger of light, the salt-scratched tower stands lonely and magnificent.
It's New Year's Eve, 1972, when a boat pulls up to the Maiden Rock lighthouse with relief for the keepers. But no one greets them. When the entrance door, locked from the inside, is battered down, rescuers find an empty tower. A table is laid for a meal not eaten. The Principal Keeper's weather log describes a storm raging round the tower, but the skies have been clear. And the clocks have all stopped at 8:45.
Two decades later, the keepers' wives are visited by a writer determined to find the truth about the men's disappearance. Moving between the women's stories and the men's last weeks together in the lighthouse, long-held secrets surface and truths twist into lies as we piece together what happened, why, and who to believe.
In her riveting and suspenseful novel, Emma Stonex writes a story of isolation and obsession, of reality and illusion, and of what it takes to keep the light burning when all else is swallowed by dark.
Editorial Reviews
"The Lamplighters is magnificent. It is a debut novel as compelling as a classic ghost story; it is a locked-room mystery that exposes every secret we wish to keep safe at home. This book will take hold of you, guide you over the waves, and then plunge you under. Read it." – Julia Phillips, bestselling author of Disappearing Earth
"Superbly accomplished…The Lamplighters is a whodunnit, horror novel, ghost story and fantastically gripping psychological investigation rolled into one. It is also a pitch-perfect piece of writing." --The Guardian (London)
"Wonderfully smart and atmospheric." --The Observer
"The Lamplighters is a tale with teeth, serrated like a shark's. Once it's got a hold of you, it doesn't let go. This is a haunting mystery where the unsaid words, the unshared emotions, and the unfulfilled lives reverberate across the decades not unlike the ghosts rumored to haunt the tower lighthouse. And whether you prefer an atmospheric sea-set mystery or an unsettling story of madness and the mythic, this is a book that's sure to satisfy." -Criminal Element
"Stonex brings vivid detail and emotional weight to the story of three lighthouse keepers who disappeared in the 1970s...The Lamplighters is beautifully written and understated in its lyricism, qualities that serve to heighten the almost unbearable tension of the story, which is packed with quiet revelations and observations." -CrimeReads
"Emma Stonex has written a gorgeous page-turner that is at once a mystery and a novel about mysteries--about how we all write our own endings and suffer betrayals, but still light the lamps so the people we love can find their way home." --Charlotte Rogan, The Lifeboat
"Beautiful, absorbing and utterly riveting, The Lamplighters is a hymn to loneliness, to the sea, and to the stories we allow ourselves to believe when we are alone. I treasured every moment of this dazzlingly accomplished and completely unforgettable novel." --Rosie Walsh, author of Ghosted
"A remarkable book, through every page, every character, the writing resonates with the dark, powerful presence of the sea." --Raynor Winn, author of The Salt Path
"Transported me effortlessly…Haunting, harrowing and heartbreaking, this is a novel that will stay with you." --Ashley Audrain, author of The Push
"A beautifully written, utterly compelling tale." --Jenny Colgan, New York Times bestselling author of The Bookshop on the Corner
"Stonex's unique tale juxtaposes oddly compelling reality-the daily challenges of being a lighthouse...
"Superbly accomplished…The Lamplighters is a whodunnit, horror novel, ghost story and fantastically gripping psychological investigation rolled into one. It is also a pitch-perfect piece of writing." --The Guardian (London)
"Wonderfully smart and atmospheric." --The Observer
"The Lamplighters is a tale with teeth, serrated like a shark's. Once it's got a hold of you, it doesn't let go. This is a haunting mystery where the unsaid words, the unshared emotions, and the unfulfilled lives reverberate across the decades not unlike the ghosts rumored to haunt the tower lighthouse. And whether you prefer an atmospheric sea-set mystery or an unsettling story of madness and the mythic, this is a book that's sure to satisfy." -Criminal Element
"Stonex brings vivid detail and emotional weight to the story of three lighthouse keepers who disappeared in the 1970s...The Lamplighters is beautifully written and understated in its lyricism, qualities that serve to heighten the almost unbearable tension of the story, which is packed with quiet revelations and observations." -CrimeReads
"Emma Stonex has written a gorgeous page-turner that is at once a mystery and a novel about mysteries--about how we all write our own endings and suffer betrayals, but still light the lamps so the people we love can find their way home." --Charlotte Rogan, The Lifeboat
"Beautiful, absorbing and utterly riveting, The Lamplighters is a hymn to loneliness, to the sea, and to the stories we allow ourselves to believe when we are alone. I treasured every moment of this dazzlingly accomplished and completely unforgettable novel." --Rosie Walsh, author of Ghosted
"A remarkable book, through every page, every character, the writing resonates with the dark, powerful presence of the sea." --Raynor Winn, author of The Salt Path
"Transported me effortlessly…Haunting, harrowing and heartbreaking, this is a novel that will stay with you." --Ashley Audrain, author of The Push
"A beautifully written, utterly compelling tale." --Jenny Colgan, New York Times bestselling author of The Bookshop on the Corner
"Stonex's unique tale juxtaposes oddly compelling reality-the daily challenges of being a lighthouse...
Readers Top Reviews
Bristol Book Blogger
This is an absolutely spectacular debut. It encompasses everything a good book should: realistic characterisation, plausible story, intricate and gripping plot, a fantastic sense of place, beautifully descriptive detailed prose, nuanced themes (love, grief, loss, betrayal, deceit) and an original use of language by each narrator. This is a haunting historical thriller than kept me glued to the pages from the first page to the very last. And what a stunning cover too! This is THE BEST book I've read in ages. Five huge stars. I can't wait to see what this exceptionally talented author comes up with next. This is truly sublime.
M. Dowden
This novel by Emma Stonex makes for a good read, but not something I would term a great read. The inspiration for this tale is the famous disappearance of the three men on duty at the Flannan Isles lighthouse on the island of Eilean Mòr. This is the inspiration and that is all, because although the keepers of the lighthouse were found missing on 26th December 1900, there had been a report of the light not working as it should have been by a passing ship, which reported that when it landed on 18th December. I should also point out that in the original case, the lighthouse door was unlocked, unlike in this tale, and the lighthouse was not a tower but one on a small uninhabited island. This tale we have here then takes us between 1972-73 and 1992. The lighthouse here (which is fictious) is a tower one standing upright in the sea and when a relief is landed so the place is found locked and empty, with all the three keepers disappeared. We have then the interviews with the wives, and with one member, his girlfriend, after the incident, plus we are taken into the lives of the three men in the lighthouse. In 1992 then we have just the women who start to open up to an author, who is going to write a book about the mysterious incident. As we progress through the story, as it goes back and forth in time, so we learn of the stresses and tensions between the different characters, bringing into play adultery and secrets as well as differences in personality: so we can see the author has gone down a more psychological route. Whilst some information is slowly revealed to us other pieces are more obvious and so we know what they are before they become more exposed in the tale. Giving us an insight then into life at sea, with the isolation and problems that can arise in the days when lighthouses were still manned this also fits in nicely with the tensions on land, between the different families and the animosities and other things that can build up. I was not particularly enamoured by the supernatural elements that do come across at times here, although the occasional use of symbolism I did find worked well. With this I would think that this is a novel that will not appeal to everyone, but if you do decide to start it then just relax and follow the flow, as we are taken through more conventional storytelling to the use of letters and interviews.
Penfold
I've just finished this book and it will stay with me forever. The author handles the narratives and unfolding mystery with skill and tenderness. It defies categorisation; a mystery, a love story, a horror, a drama... what a wonderful debut novel. I recommend it highly to anyone looking for a unique and well-written literary fiction.
Walt McKeeNikki Vall
I enjoyed most of the book. It was interesting to see what life was like on a lighthouse and I thought the characters in the story were interesting. The book bounced back and forth between 1972 when the accident happened and 1992 which was the present time of the novel. The writing kept the suspense up and the narrator (a writer attempting to write about and solve the mystery in the present time) does unearth many things that add to the plot development. Unfortunately, when the crime is finally "solved" in the last 40 pages or so it is a big let down, a cross between the highly unlikely and the boogeyman. I was very disappointed. I give it three stars for everything other than the ending.
Catherine Breitfelle
Well I certainly did not enjoy this book. Written very oddly & very confusing. Could never determine who was speaking. No ghost or mystery to this book. Just confusion. Don’t recommend it. Also it was filled with bad language
Short Excerpt Teaser
1
Relief
When Jory opens the curtains, the day is light and gray, the radio playing a half-known song. He listens to the news, about a girl who's gone missing from a bus stop up north, and drinks from a mug of brown tea. Poor mother's beside herself-well, she would be. Short hair, short skirt, big eyes, that's how he pictures the girl, shivering in the cold, and an empty bus stop where someone should have stood, waving or drowning, and the bus pulls up and away, never the wiser, and the pavement shines on in the black rain.
The sea is quiet, with the glass-like quality that comes after bad weather. Jory unlatches the window and the fresh air is very nearly solid, an edible thing, clinking between the trawler cottages like an ice cube in a drink. There's nothing like the smell of the sea, nothing close: briny, clean, like vinegar kept in the fridge. Today it's soundless. Jory knows loud seas and silent seas, heaving seas and mirror seas, seas where your boat feels like the last blink of humankind on a roll so determined and angry that you believe in what you don't believe in, such as the sea being that halfway thing between heaven and hell, or whatever lies up there and whatever lurks down deep. A fisherman told him once about the sea having two faces. You have to take the both, he said, the good and the bad, and never turn your back on either one of them.
Today, after a long time, the sea is on their side. They'll do it today.
HeÕs in charge of whether the boat goes out there or not. Even if the wind's good at nine it doesn't mean it'll be good by ten, and whatever he's got in the harbor, say he's got four-feet-high waves in the harbor, he can guess they'll be forty feet round the tower. Whatever it is ashore, it'll be ten times as much round the light.
The new delivery is twentyish, with yellow hair and thick glasses. They make his eyes look small, twitchy; he reminds Jory of something kept in a cage, living in sawdust. He's standing there on the jetty in his cord bell-bottoms, frayed ends darkened by the slopping sea. Early morning it's quiet on the quay, a dog walker and a milk crate unloading. The frigid pause between Christmas and New Year.
Jory and his crew haul in the boy's supplies, Trident red cartons containing two months' clothes and food, fresh meat, fruit, proper milk not powdered, a newspaper, box of tea, Golden Virginia, and rope them down, covering the containers in tarpaulin. The keepers will be pleased: they'll have been on tinned stew the past four weeks and whatever was on the Mail's front page the day the last relief went out.
In the shallows, the water burps seaweed, slurping and sucking round the sides of the boat. The boy climbs in, his plimsolls wet, groping the sides like a blind man. Under one arm he carries a parcel of belongings tied up with string-books, cassette recorder, tapes, whatever he'll use to pass the time. He's a student, most likely: Trident gets a lot of students these days. He'll be writing music, that'll be his thing. Up in the lantern thinking this is the life. They all need an activity to do, especially on the towers-can't spend your whole time running up and down the stairs. Jory knew a keeper way back when, a fine craftsman who put ships in bottles; he'd spend his whole stay doing them and they were beautiful things by the end of it. And then they got televisions put in and this keeper threw it all away, literally chucked his whole kit out the window into the sea and from then on sat watching the box every free moment he got.
"Have you been doing this long?" the boy asks. Jory says yeah, longer than you've been alive. "Didn't think we'd make it," he says. "I've been waiting since Tuesday. They put me in digs in the village and very nice it was too, but not so nice as I'd want to stay there much longer. Every day I was looking out and thinking, Will we ever get off? Talk about a bloody storm. Have to say I don't know how it'll be out there when we get another. They told me you've never seen a storm till you've seen it from the sea, and it feels like the tower's going to collapse right from underneath you and wash away."
The new ones always want to talk. It's nerves, Jory thinks, about the crossing and if the wind might change, about the landing, about the men on the light, whether he'll fit in with them, what the one in charge is like. It isn't this boy's light yet; probably it won't ever be. Supernumeraries come and go, land light this time, rock the next, shuttled round the country like a pinball. Jory's seen scores of them, keen to start and taken up in the romantic bit of it, but it isn't as romantic as that. Three men alone on...
Relief
When Jory opens the curtains, the day is light and gray, the radio playing a half-known song. He listens to the news, about a girl who's gone missing from a bus stop up north, and drinks from a mug of brown tea. Poor mother's beside herself-well, she would be. Short hair, short skirt, big eyes, that's how he pictures the girl, shivering in the cold, and an empty bus stop where someone should have stood, waving or drowning, and the bus pulls up and away, never the wiser, and the pavement shines on in the black rain.
The sea is quiet, with the glass-like quality that comes after bad weather. Jory unlatches the window and the fresh air is very nearly solid, an edible thing, clinking between the trawler cottages like an ice cube in a drink. There's nothing like the smell of the sea, nothing close: briny, clean, like vinegar kept in the fridge. Today it's soundless. Jory knows loud seas and silent seas, heaving seas and mirror seas, seas where your boat feels like the last blink of humankind on a roll so determined and angry that you believe in what you don't believe in, such as the sea being that halfway thing between heaven and hell, or whatever lies up there and whatever lurks down deep. A fisherman told him once about the sea having two faces. You have to take the both, he said, the good and the bad, and never turn your back on either one of them.
Today, after a long time, the sea is on their side. They'll do it today.
HeÕs in charge of whether the boat goes out there or not. Even if the wind's good at nine it doesn't mean it'll be good by ten, and whatever he's got in the harbor, say he's got four-feet-high waves in the harbor, he can guess they'll be forty feet round the tower. Whatever it is ashore, it'll be ten times as much round the light.
The new delivery is twentyish, with yellow hair and thick glasses. They make his eyes look small, twitchy; he reminds Jory of something kept in a cage, living in sawdust. He's standing there on the jetty in his cord bell-bottoms, frayed ends darkened by the slopping sea. Early morning it's quiet on the quay, a dog walker and a milk crate unloading. The frigid pause between Christmas and New Year.
Jory and his crew haul in the boy's supplies, Trident red cartons containing two months' clothes and food, fresh meat, fruit, proper milk not powdered, a newspaper, box of tea, Golden Virginia, and rope them down, covering the containers in tarpaulin. The keepers will be pleased: they'll have been on tinned stew the past four weeks and whatever was on the Mail's front page the day the last relief went out.
In the shallows, the water burps seaweed, slurping and sucking round the sides of the boat. The boy climbs in, his plimsolls wet, groping the sides like a blind man. Under one arm he carries a parcel of belongings tied up with string-books, cassette recorder, tapes, whatever he'll use to pass the time. He's a student, most likely: Trident gets a lot of students these days. He'll be writing music, that'll be his thing. Up in the lantern thinking this is the life. They all need an activity to do, especially on the towers-can't spend your whole time running up and down the stairs. Jory knew a keeper way back when, a fine craftsman who put ships in bottles; he'd spend his whole stay doing them and they were beautiful things by the end of it. And then they got televisions put in and this keeper threw it all away, literally chucked his whole kit out the window into the sea and from then on sat watching the box every free moment he got.
"Have you been doing this long?" the boy asks. Jory says yeah, longer than you've been alive. "Didn't think we'd make it," he says. "I've been waiting since Tuesday. They put me in digs in the village and very nice it was too, but not so nice as I'd want to stay there much longer. Every day I was looking out and thinking, Will we ever get off? Talk about a bloody storm. Have to say I don't know how it'll be out there when we get another. They told me you've never seen a storm till you've seen it from the sea, and it feels like the tower's going to collapse right from underneath you and wash away."
The new ones always want to talk. It's nerves, Jory thinks, about the crossing and if the wind might change, about the landing, about the men on the light, whether he'll fit in with them, what the one in charge is like. It isn't this boy's light yet; probably it won't ever be. Supernumeraries come and go, land light this time, rock the next, shuttled round the country like a pinball. Jory's seen scores of them, keen to start and taken up in the romantic bit of it, but it isn't as romantic as that. Three men alone on...
