Book review: Tony Parsons loses the plot among fog of clichés in Cornish village
Tedious and clanger-ridden, with barely credible characters, Who She Was is finally hit by an inexplicable twist that finishes it entirely
“That night, she was just out of her middle twenties, still young but no longer a kid, and she had that Celtic colouring, the pale skin and the dark, dark red hair with a spark of green fire in the eyes . . . I wanted to look away but I found I could not.”
No, that’s not some rejected scene from a Game of Thrones knock-off, or one of those ads that the tourist board greet visitors with at the airport. Instead it’s an early warning sign in Tony Parsons’ novel Who She Was, indicating that the reader might be in for a rough ride.