This was one of the most grim and upsetting books I’ve ever read. Several times I wondered why I was continuing, but I couldn’t stop. It actually affected my sleep, which is rare.

It’s the story of a family unravelling after the death of a child, but told through the eyes of one of the three remaining children. The family’s situation is grim at the outset – they live on a farm and are highly religious and insular. As the story goes on, things only get worse for the kids — the parents start to neglect their duties and themselves, foot and mouth disease hits the cattle and destroys their livelihood, and the children kind of spiral into ferality.

It’s full of horror – in the concrete sense, not the supernatural sense. There’s sexual abuse and animal abuse, there’s graphic descriptions of things you’d really rather not think about.

Is it worth it? I’m not sure. There are absolutely some uncomfortable truths in here. Rijneveld channels the bizarre and morbid curiosity of youth extremely well — think of the instinct that makes young boys pull the legs off of grasshoppers, but then turn that up to 11. Parts are relatable and familiar in a way that’s pretty unsettling.

The writing is often beautiful and affecting — Rijneveld is a poet and it shows. The exploration of where grief, religion, isolation and unrestrained curiosity of youth overlap is memorable and compelling. Jas, the 10-year-old narrator, feels very real and innocent.

But on the other hand, it toes the line of exploitation — how much of this was meant to enlighten, and how much to shock? The thing won the International Booker Prize, and is overwhelmingly positively reviewed. Still, I would never recommend it to anyone.