A young man inherits an estate from an uncle he has never met - a wild man and a wanderer, who ended his life in seclusion - on the condition that he spends three months on an island in the middle of a river in the Camargue region of France. This he does, without books or contact with the outside world, assisted only by his uncle's - friend? hired hand? acolyte? The synopsis sounds simple - or like a ghost story, which this might be, if our ancestors are ghosts that haunt our souls - but how the book actually plays out is incredible. There are intrigues, fevers, nocturnal visitations, a kidnapping and a daring rescue, a possible betrayal, a malevolent and possibly diabolical notary. But this all pales in comparison to the writing itself - an internal narrative granular to a hallucinatory degree, following the narrator as his heart - or as the book puts it, his blood - twists and turns. An incredible, beautiful book - I wish I could read it in French.