Consumed: Hamnet

Hello friend,

I’ve been thinking lately that I’d like to share more of what I’m consuming—books, films, maybe even the occasional album—here on the blog. After all, if you’re here for my art, you might also be curious about the things that feed it. So I’m starting a new feature called Consumed, where I talk about what I’ve been reading, watching, or what’s been rattling around my brain lately. First up: Hamnet by Maggie O’Farrell.

Before we dive in, a warning: this review contains some plot details from Hamnet—and, by extension, the new film adaptation, I imagine—so if you’re the sort who likes to go in blind, consider this your spoiler alert. Tread carefully.

Now, onto the book. Hamnet hit me at a strange time. Like the nameless husband character (you know who he is, even if O’Farrell never says), I’ve recently started traveling extensively for work, which means long stretches away from my wife and family. That part of the novel felt uncomfortably relatable—how difficult it is, how you almost feel guilty when it’s not difficult, feeling like I’m missing out on so much at home. Though the book lost me a little, treating his rampant infidelity with a shrug, the ache of absence rang true.

And then there’s grief, the novel’s strongest theme. We’re not even two years removed from my father’s passing, so O’Farrell’s depiction of the inescapable weight of loss landed hard. It’s beautifully observed, and at times, almost too close for comfort.

It’s not a perfect book. Agnes occasionally veers into “mystical woodland sprite” territory, her twig-and-berry cures presented as if they belong in a peer-reviewed journal. And honestly, I don’t fully buy the artistic connection between Hamlet the play and Hamnet the boy. The ending feels a little pat in that regard, like O’Farrell is nudging us and saying, “See what I did there?” Still, the novel is thoughtful, affecting, and worth your time.

I haven’t seen the film yet, but I generally enjoy Paul Mescal—though he’s now in a cage match with Timothée Chalamet for the title of “Actor Who Is In Everything.” Inspired by the book (and because most of you come here for my art), I did a quick illustration of how I picture Agnes, blended with what I’ve glimpsed of the movie’s costuming.

As I read the book, I think I pictured Agnes as LOST-era Evangeline Lilly, so some of that comes through.

Finally, a personal observation: between my love of Sally Rooney and my lifelong adoration of Van Morrison, U2, The Waterboys and even Liam Neeson it seems my creative world is heavily populated by Irish voices. With her love of Lick the Tins, and The Sundays, we’ve joked that my eldest daughter also has an Irish heart, despite being half English. O’Farrell fits right in.

Next up on the blog: I’ll be sharing a video of a recent panel I participated in at the Winnipeg Comic Arts Festival, Prairie Comics Fest. Stay tuned for that.

Thanks for reading, I love you.