Where Are The Kings
Donal Ryan
Transworld Digital, Penguin Random House, via NetGalley
Advance Reader Copy (ARC)
Read on Kindle
Publication date: August 2026
4*
I have physical copies of all of Donal Ryan's books, so when NetGalley offered me an advance reader copy of Where Are the Kings for review, I jumped at the chance. The title immediately intrigued me. Was a question mark missing?
A glance at the dedication page deepened the mystery. There was an extract from WB Yeats's On Baile's Strand, depicting someone fighting "crowns" on the waves amid cries of "Where are the kings?" The passage hints at struggle, grief and perhaps even madness—elements that resonate throughout the novel.
Just a few minutes into the first chapter, I read:
“There doesn't have to be a reason for crying. Sometimes crying just starts itself up in a person, and the person has no control of it.”
This is our young protagonist, 12-year-old Jack, watching his mother. What a premise. Why is she crying? I'm hooked. This, surely, would be a novel exploring emotions, most likely of grief.
And it is - Jack, the good boy of chapter one, is only 12 years old, as he races his bike down a hill in pursuit of his mother's car. He's trying to catch her before she gets to the nearby lake. Jack's life changes forever on that day. We meet him next in the embrace of his maternal family. His grandparents, his uncles, Haulie and Theo along with his aunt Rose, on whom he has a crush, and his cousin JJ. His father is not yet present. We learn:
“There was something between Mam's family and Dad. Bad blood”.
We are also told that dad is “in a hospital that looks after people whose nerves are at them.”
The novel takes us on a series of episodes or interactions as Jack moves through his teenage years, dealing with awakenings and fantasies. One senses a buildup of rage, and a need to understand. His mother is always in mind. We learn at one point that:
“… Mam's laughter Jack could hardly remember what it sounded like until just now, he can hear it in the memory of waves.”
Those waves again. This is what I love about Donal Ryan's writing, with an economy of words he can set scenes for us and place us in them as observers. I'm not sure how he manages to do this, and maybe I should go back and reread places where he achieves this so brilliantly. For example, there's a scene where the local priest visits the grandparents' home, effectively demanding compliance with the Church's teaching regarding respectful disposal of mortal remains. The young Jack who has been listening to the exchanges outside, takes decisive action. We are in that room.
I loved how the characters were drawn. They feel entirely real and with their manner of speaking I felt that I knew them or people very much like them - people who are of a place and the place is in them. People that ring true.
Yes, my initial thinking is confirmed. This is a book about loss and grief. It is also about belonging and how people look out for each other. It's an appropriate read for today's world.
The episodes build the narrative and we are in Jack’s mind as a critical fateful moment approaches. Jack is about to do something from which there is no way back:
“Jack can time his steps to the beat of a poem, the one about the pilot who is about to die, and he knows it, and he doesn't care.”
There's Donal Ryan again, using another reference to William Butler Yeats. This time deploying the poem An Irish Airman Foresees His Death. Incidentally, the first book I ever read by the author was, All We Shall Know, its title again referencing a line from a poem by Yeats. An intervention by his uncles, Haulie and Theo, brings us some relief.
From here the novel gathers momentum and moves to another point of no return.
Dream or trance-like, we move to the conclusion, and it's in the very last sentence we realise, not just where are the kings, but who the kings are. Wonderful.
I really liked this book, and especially the relatability of the characters. As an exploration of grief and guilt, I'd recommend it to those working with boys, especially in roles helping them to deal with their emotions in the so-called manosphere. For me, it's a work concerned with hope and trust after grief.
I enjoyed it immensely and awarded it 4 stars. Thoughtful and compassionate it lingers long after that final sentence. I commend it to your bookshelves!
With renewed thanks to Transworld Digital and NetGalley for the ARC edition. I will however want to continue building my Donal Ryan library and will be getting the physical copy to add to my collection when it is published in August 2026.