This looked like exactly the kind of Scottish novel that I would love : experimental, a bit surreal, with a hint of state-of-the-nation angst thrown in. And whilst it opened interestingly enough, somehow I just couldn't connect with it. Maybe it needs a second reading, but it seems to be one of those books that others get more out of than I do.

The writing was good, and as Chris Kohler develops as I writer I will definitely keep an eye on his books in the future.

(With thanks to the publisher and NetGalley for an ARC of this title.)

Chris Kohler's first novel Phantom Limb follows the story of an agnostic Church minister, Gillis, who finds a seemingly sentient, moving severed hand in the ground. Parts thriller, part satire, we follow Gillis as he explores why he found the hand and what it means for his faith, or lack thereof.

Intercepted within this story is another, set in decades past, of an apprentice painter named Jan. While initially I found these chapters a bit less appealing, as both stories developed I really enjoyed switching back and forth between the two characters and seeing certain themes overlap and intwine with one another. (I do feel that going in with limited knowledge of the story really helped to keep me immersed here, so I suggest others avoid seeking too many spoilers before reading.)

Kohler's writing turned what could be quite a slightly unlikeable main character (Gillis) into someone we can deeply sympathise with. Even with the magical elements of the moving Thing-like hand I felt that the Scottish town and it's inhabitants made the whole story feel grounded and realistic. I also enjoyed the many themes of this book, on the surface there is the matter of faith but also the often sought after feeling of wishing we could go back and fix past mistakes and more generally the themes of trauma, denial and how we treat each other are all tackled with a voice that I feel is entirely specific to Kohler.

The slight slowness of Jan's sections at the start did mean it took me a few chapters to get wholly into the rhythm of the story, but altogether it makes for an incredibly rich and layered novel. I really enjoy Kohler's writing style and Phantom Limb has me very excited to see what he writes next. Thanks to NetGalley for the ARC of this book.

Glaswegian writer Chris Kohler’s debut novel moves between Scotland’s present and episodes from its past, exploring themes around history, identity, belief and power. In the present Gillis, a failed athlete, has taken up a post as a minister in Kirkmouth, the small town in central Scotland where he grew up. Gillis is a non-believer but the role offers free accommodation and a chance to rebuild. The community’s suffering from various forms of economic blight partly stemming from issues around fishing and problems with the local industrial fishery. Scotland itself is divided, caught up in the fallout from the severing of ties to Europe and the split between those who long for independence and those who wish to remain part of the United Kingdom.

Gillis’s everyday ministry’s limited, the local kirk’s no longer a community hub, instead of services most of Gillis’s time is taken up with presiding over funerals, a ritualistic, performative role. But then he unearths a disembodied, male hand buried close to his manse. The hand shows no signs of decomposition, and appears to be alive. Gillis gives the hand a pen but instead of presenting a coherent account of its origins, it constructs a series of rudimentary, mysterious drawings. The hand attracts the attention of Nichol a developer, business owner, and major local employer. Nichol believes the hand may be a holy relic with healing powers, powers that might be exploited for financial gain. Gillis however begins to view the hand as a sign from God, one that might lead to his becoming a religious leader/prophet – rather like the American evangelical preachers who use religion as a means of amassing private fortunes.

Kohler interweaves Gillis’s narrative with the story of the hand’s owner Jan, an apprentice painter from what’s now the Netherlands. Jan’s narrative unfolds in the sixteenth century during the turbulent beginnings of the Scottish Reformation, marked by violent sectarian struggles for the minds and allegiance of the Scottish people. Another tussle between allegiances to Europe or to England. Jan arrives in Kirkmouth to deliver an illuminated manuscript commissioned by the town’s Laird. But unforeseen circumstances complicate his mission.

In Kirkmouth where Catholicism once reigned, there’s a Protestant, puritan uprising in progress, an attempt to overthrow both the Catholic priesthood and the Catholic Laird. Jan’s forced to scrabble to survive, using the remnants of the illuminated volume to trade for food and lodgings. He takes advantage of local superstition to reinvent himself as a healer, claiming images from the book have the power to cure the afflicted. A move that leads to an unexpected downfall. Kohler doesn’t fill in historical details, he assumes prior knowledge - or expects his readers to follow up on the events he outlines.

Taken together Kohler’s two storylines raise issues around religious belief systems and Scotland’s historical development. The Scottish Reformation’s tied to the overthrow of medieval feudalism, , the destruction of traditional ways of thinking in particular Scottish folkloric and mythical frameworks. A radical shift that paved the way for modernity but arguably enabled an individualism implicated in the rise of capitalism.

Influences from Scottish literature pervade Kohler’s novel from Stevenson’s Scottish gothic to Hugh McDiarmid’s modernist epic A Drunk Man Looks at the Thistle - which also examines relations between Scotland’s identity and Christian institutions – to James Robertson’s reworking of Hogg in The Testament of Gideon Mack. Gillis seems to echo aspects of Robertson’s protagonist: both faithless, both take up posts as ministers in obscure towns, both are/were runners, both are transformed by an unexpected mystical encounter. Yet where Robertson was interested in exploring matters of faith versus disbelief, Kohler seems more invested in secular concerns, less engaged with themes around spirituality than with institutional forms of power and processes of commodification.

Church HQ is in the process of selling their Kirkmouth properties and land to Nichols for redevelopment and resale on the open market. The Church’s authority and relevance seems to have been vanquished by the very systems it helped to foster; while an increasingly grandiose Gillis sees God not as a route to salvation but to wealth and fame. The hand itself seems to have its own desires, consumed with a longing to express itself through art, to be reunited with a body focused on self-expression and creativity freed from constraints of patronage or politics.

Kohler’s inventive, complex piece raises more questions than it supplies answers. It’s often bleakly comical, slightly surreal, even absurdist in tone. The sections presented from Jan’s perspective are particularly atmospheric, teasing out themes around deception and forms of belief – as in the memorable scenes involving the use of a dead calf to force a cow to lactate. It’s a book I found more intriguing than entirely satisfying, it often felt padded out – particularly Gillis’s sections – with some plotlines frustratingly underdeveloped and others overly so. At its best, it’s ambitious, intelligent with flashes of arresting imagery but it doesn’t quite live up to its promise - numerous stretches seemed repetitious, banal or redundant, tempting me to skim or fast forward.

Phantom Limb is the debut novel by Scottish author Chris Kohler. Blending elements of magical realism, thriller and satire, along with the classic Scottish wit and humour, the narrative unfolds in two interwoven plots: a contemporary Scottish tale and a parallel medieval story.

The book mainly follows young, agnostic church minister Gillis on an unexpected journey when he falls into a hole left by an ancient tree in the churchyard, discovering a severed hand. As he was “reaching for it just as it began to move and turned slightly and curled as through pointing a single accusing finger at his forehead.” This event thrusts him into a world of miracles, confusion, and purpose. Kohler’s darkly comic and surreal writing style creates a unique and compelling reading experience, capturing the authenticity of everyday speech through great dialogues (or monologues).

Gillis is a complex and interesting character who seemingly loses his grip on reality after encountering the severed hand. This forces him to confront his own beliefs (or lack thereof) and question the nature of miracles bestowed by this unusual companion. Exploring Gillis’s interactions and evolution throughout the novel, particularly his relationships, proved fascinating. His dialogues with Nichol, a ruthless entrepreneur, are engaging. Nichol is an equally interesting character with a questionable moral compass. Early on, we learn of Gillis's past as a promising young athlete who abandons his girlfriend, Rachel, to pursue his aspirations in London. Then, after injuring his knee, he returns to Scotland and begins working as a corporate minister when his ex-girlfriend shows up requesting a funeral for her dead husband. This encounter is charged with hidden consequences revealed throughout the book.

The novel accompanies Gillis as he tries to understand the severed hand's story, desires and capabilities, whilst dealing with his past, a life of solitude and frustrations (especially with his bad knee). His faith is tested, and he seeks to comprehend their extraordinary connection. The severed hand’s consciousness, portrayed through enigmatic drawings and an inquisitive finger, adds mystery. It provides a unique opportunity to explore philosophical questions about religion, identity, and the afterlife.

As the story progresses and the severed hand becomes public knowledge, Kohler employs mechanisms of Thriller, blending even more different genres and showcasing his storytelling skills. I particularly enjoyed the police parts and how quirky they were. The police officers, confronted with an otherworldly phenomenon of a moving severed hand, become comical characters, their reactions portraying society's disbelief in the face of the unknown. It's in these moments that Kohler truly excels.

The secondary plot focuses on Jan, an apprentice painter, tasked with delivering a commissioned holy book to a Laird. After many years of producing the book, Jan goes on a journey where he almost loses his life, ruins the book, and faces great hardship. Although one might infer Jan’s connection to Gillis’s story, it isn’t until late in the book that it significantly contributes. Here, there is a clear attempt to contrast the Protestant religion with the Catholic, although not at length.

While the book is brilliantly written, I did not care for Jan’s parts. I reckon he could serve as a commentary on idolatry and iconostasis, but the chapters did not enrich the reading experience and frequently broke the pacing of Gillis’s story. Nevertheless, Phantom Limb remains a thought-provoking and innovative work of fiction. Its premise—an animated, severed hand—offers fertile ground for examining complex themes such as faith, the supernatural, and religion. Kohler skilfully blends humour, horror, and philosophy, resulting in a unique and quirky book.

Kohler’s writing style effectively balances the surreal with the mundane, creating a world that feels both familiar and unsettling. Set against the Scottish coast, the novel delves into the supernatural and the human condition. Its exploration of mental health, trauma, and denial provides rich psychological depth with outstanding character development.

Ultimately, Phantom Limb is a novel that serves as a social commentary on modern religious institutions and mental health, through the exploration between the human and the divine. I recommend this book to readers of Scottish literature, magical realism, or genre-bending. Phantom Limb is a solid novel, with plenty to discuss and I cannot wait to read more from Chris Kohler.

Many thanks to Atlantic Books and NetGalley for the eARC in exchange for my honest review. #PhantomLimb #NetGalley

This is a very distinctive and unsettling debut novel – which I think examines how the Scottish reformation lies buried in rural Scottish society to this day, despite the prevalence of agnosticism.

It is told from the third party viewpoint of Gillis – now in his early thirties and a minister in the Church of Scotland in a remote and largely run-down coastal town where the only remaining industry is fishing-dominated, that in turn being increasingly centred around some large (and for from organic) salmon farms with the harbour and fishing boats returning increasingly diminished catches and with all of these (as well as the local hotel, smokehouses and it seems the manse in which Gillis lives and the crumbling Kirk next to it) owned by a local man Nicholson (known to all as Nichol).

Gillis we learn early on was a successful long distance cross country/road-race athlete as a youth (having turned to it after an abortive football career) and moved to England with dreams of fame – only for his knackered knees to put pay to his success. Drifting in England for some years – and having broken off with his Scottish girlfriend Rachel (who he knew since primary school) – he has returned to his home area after a divinity degree despite a lack of belief (“Never believed in God, or heaven, or anything. Just needed the work and wanted a house and a decent car. He knew heaven was empty, so who would it hurt?”). Now his work consist almost entirely of carrying out funerals.

Two key incidents begin the book:

Firstly, falling down a hole left by a falling elm tree which has undermined and cracked the Kirk he finds a severed hand which appears still to be alive – capable of pointing and producing crude but disturbing sketches (which are threaded through the book). Gillis feels it is somehow a message from God but does not know how to receive the message and disturbs people by showing them the drawings, while carrying the hand in a shortbread tin.

Secondly a funeral he is asked to take turns out to be for the husband of Rachel (now mother to a small boy Jamie) who has gone missing at sea – the husband a bookkeeper for Nichol had gone out to sea on one of Nichol’s boats (something he enjoyed doing) still wearing his office clothes and was swept overboard – his body now missing (although later found which gives rise to a second funeral which forms the climax of the book).

Then when Nichol finds the hand – after a post funeral tussle with Gillis as who thinks the pictures are somehow pointing out his culpability in Rachel’s husband’s death (as a key aside this winds up with Gills and Rachel spending the night together after she tends his wounds) – he comes round the next day to say that the hand has somehow cured a chronic skin condition with which he suffered.

Nichol then tries to draw Gillis into two schemes: to persuade the church to deconsecrate the Kirk and move the bodies in the graveyard so as to facilitate his plans to bail out his fading and infection-affected fish-farms by developing the Kirk into flats; to somehow monetise the miracle producing impact of the hand – which also seems to cure Nichol’s secretaries cancer and later the fish-blight.

But Gillis is increasingly drawn to almost messianic visions of his destiny as some form of prophet – able to lead Scotland into national renewal and a rediscovery of faith (for example believing the hand is the first part of the discovery of a long buried national hero).

While to others – Rachel (considering a restored relationship with him but disturbed by his behaviour); Gillis’s father (convinced that Gillis has committed murder and trying to get him to escape); the authorities (police and medical) and the church (who are already considering axing Gillis’s post due to its lack of revenue) – Gillis’s behaviour is increasingly erratic and demanding of intervention.

Gillis’s story is though only the main narrative. Interleaved through his story is one set many hundreds of years earlier in what we intuit is the same location. A young apprentice painter Jan is on his way to deliver a lavishly illustrated Book Of Hours and Prayers to the Laird of Hamilton (a commissioned gift by the Laird for his wife) when he is swept off board and washed up on a river with the book already damaged. His attempts to deliver the damaged book are rebuffed and he finds himself caught up in a violent anti-superstition/Catholicism uprising by a group of austere black jacketed men (to which he claims the book was part of a devilish plot) and then later a counter-revolution with the black jackets treated as heretics to be burnt (in which he is again caught up). During all of this the book gets more and more cut up and damaged – and Jan makes something of a living firstly trading extracts of the book for food and lodgings and then later using torn strips of the book as miraculous charms as an itinerant (if rather fraudulent) healer and holy man.

Increasingly we see the stories converge and both reach a climax (Gillis’s at the second funeral and with a dramatic roof top escape ended by a lightning strike; Jan’s when his hand is put to the flames) and a convergence.

Overall, I found this a very distinctive novel – if not a completely successful one. The modern day sections worked really well for me – there is an offbeat humour and the side characters (Nichols, Rachel and Gillis’s Dad) and their relationships have a satisfactory level of complexity and ambiguity to them. The historic sections did not quite work so well for me – more based on empirical evidence as I was always pleased to return to Gillis’s story. I was also unsure that I really grasped everything that was happening – in particular the drawings (whose very inclusion in the story seems to herald their importance) remained unclear to me in their meaning – and perhaps that could go for the whole novel in that I was not fully clear if there was a deeper meaning to the novel beyond its intriguing quirkiness.