Sheep: Classified

“Well, hello,” said The Sheep. “The file reached you, and you reached the file.”

It seems rather unlikely to be a coincidence, which prompts a few questions (fair enough, really) so you can judge for yourself whether this is worth your time:

Would you like to find a novel that feels genuinely different, one that keeps you curious about where it might take you next?
In the summer of 2026, a classified file is released. It had been sealed seven years earlier, with instructions that it should appear only after Dr Francis Shepherd was gone from this version of events. The account begins in a Wiltshire field, where a government veterinarian is expecting to complete a routine inspection of an untagged sheep.

If a sheep spoke in the middle of an ordinary inspection, would you want to hear what she had to say?
In Shepherd’s account, she does, and she appears to remember people and events she could only have known by being there herself.

What if that one small encounter opened into two thousand years of history?
What begins in Wiltshire carries Shepherd through Rome, Renaissance Venice, Elizabethan England, nineteenth-century America, 1930s London and a celebrity trial in 2005. The clothes, voices, surroundings and arguments change as he travels, while certain habits of human behaviour become curiously familiar.

Does a story feel more rewarding when it leaves you room to notice the connections for yourself and decide what they mean?
Each chapter enters another period and carries a story of its own, while the larger picture gathers gradually around them. One century can cast a new light on another, and a detail that barely registered at first may return fifty pages later with greater weight. Shepherd forms his own views as he goes; the Sheep seems perfectly content to leave that part to him.

Imagine serious ideas folded into dry British humour and a little absurdity, and could a Sheep with rather stronger opinions on grass make them even more enjoyable?
She says very little and takes Shepherd wherever she thinks he ought to go. History, satire, time travel and philosophy all find their way into the same record, sometimes in combinations he would probably never have chosen for himself.

Think of Sheep: Classified as a buffet on a luxury Mediterranean cruise: plenty to choose from, and no particular reason for everyone to fill the same plate. Take what appeals to you, try what catches your eye, and come back for something you passed over the first time. A chapter that makes you laugh may sit beside one that follows you around for several days afterwards. That is rather the point of a buffet.

By the time the record is complete, Shepherd has seen enough to put it in writing and to choose the timing of its release with unusual care. His solicitor had warned him what making the file public might cost. Shepherd arranged for it to appear anyway, although only after he was no longer there to answer for it.

Would you like to open the file while it is still here, before it is redacted, misplaced, reclassified, destroyed, or otherwise dealt with appropriately, and someone decides you were never supposed to see it?

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Which sounds more like you: holding the file in your hands as a paperback, a little closer to The Sheep, or having it on your e-reader because you wanted it yesterday?