Robert Cabot's masterful The Isle of Kheria interrogates the past, that mysterious land, which always beckons in the distance. Can we ever really know it, or the people who come in and out of our lives? Is it only after we lose someone that we fi nally, perhaps too late, consider that person's character and story? Reminiscent of Fowles' The Magus, Davies' The Manticore, and Kazantzakis' Zorba, Cabot weaves narratives of Greece s past and present with the gossamer threads of his prose. His descriptions of the natural world are spellbinding the piping of the goatherd, the spittle bugs on the golden rod and one of the joys of reading this book.
The Isle of Kheria transmutes the leaden horrors of the 20th century into elegiac gold dust. I'm left with that hushed fragile feeling that comes from stirring up rarely experienced emotions. A story crafted of myriad glimpses of an intimate world, poetic literary pointillism. A masterpiece.
In his enchanting, powerful book The Isle of Kheria Robert Cabot s passionate connection to the natural world animates gorgeous landscapes in Wales, in Greece, in Italy and in the American Northwest. This story of a life-long friendship between two men is alive with vibrant details and told in Cabot's extraordinary musical, sonorous, evocative voice. As Breughel did on canvas, Cabot puts his characters against a rich background of human striving and natural tumult. Yet the principal landscape in the book is the landscape of the human heart, and Cabot fearlessly shows how a loving man can be powerless to save his best friend, or anyone, from his own fatal search for a mystical answer to the soul's questions.