Category: Historical Fiction

The Silver Branch by Rosemary Sutcliff

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After reading Rosemary Sutcliff’s The Eagle of the Ninth a few years ago, the first book in her Dolphin Ring Cycle, I wasn’t sure which one to read next. I was advised that it wouldn’t really matter as the books are all separate stories, but as I’m interested in reading all of them anyway, I decided to continue with the one listed next chronologically, which is The Silver Branch.

First published in 1957, The Silver Branch is set in Roman Britain more than a century after the events of The Eagle of the Ninth. The two main characters, Justin and Flavius, are descendants of Marcus Flavius Aquila, which provides the link between the two books. Towards the end of the 3rd century, Justin (Tiberius Lucius Justinianus) completes his apprenticeship as an army surgeon and is posted to Britain for the first time. Arriving at the fort of Rutupiae in Kent, he meets the centurion Flavius (Marcelus Flavius Aquila) and the two discover that they are distant cousins.

The Roman military commander Carausius has recently declared himself emperor of Britain and North Gaul. When the cousins overhear Allectus, the finance minister, plotting against Carausius, they try to warn the emperor but he seems reluctant to believe them and instead they find themselves sent north to Magnis, a fort near Hadrian’s Wall, apparently in disgrace. Worse still, they have now made an enemy of the powerful Allectus, who still has his sights set on the throne…

Although I thought The Eagle of the Ninth was the stronger book, I enjoyed this one as well. I knew nothing at all about this particular period of Roman history so I was able to learn a lot from it, not just about the historical and military events, but also about life in general in Roman Britain during and after Carausius’s reign. This is all described in vivid detail, making the novel completely immersive, and Sutcliff never talks down to the reader – it’s marketed as a children’s book, but it doesn’t actually feel like one and it definitely has a lot to offer readers of all ages.

Not all of the characters are Roman – for example, we meet Evicatos of the Spear, an exiled Dalriad hunter (Dalriada was an ancient Gaelic kingdom from western Scotland/north-eastern Ireland) – and although it’s a very male dominated story, Flavius’s great-aunt Honoria has an important role to play. The main focus of the book, though, is always on our two young protagonists and I found both of them very easy to like, particularly the shy, quiet Justin who grows as a person through his relationship with the more confident Flavius. It’s as much a story of male friendship as it is of the politics of Roman Britain.

If you’re wondering about the ‘silver branch’ of the title, it refers not to a tree but to an unusual musical instrument with silver apples on it belonging to Cullen, the emperor Carausius’s Fool, an eccentric man who calls himself a hound and wears a dog’s tail. The silver branch is a motif that appears several times throughout the novel, along with the dolphin signet ring, an Aquila family heirloom, and the lost eagle standard of the Ninth Legion.

This is book 50/50 from my second Classics Club list. Yes, I’ve completed it at last!

Venetian Vespers by John Banville

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So far my experience of John Banville’s writing has been limited to Prague Nights, one of his mystery novels published under the pseudonym Benjamin Black. I’ve been meaning to try more of his books and when I saw this one, I was immediately drawn to it by the title and the beautiful cover (I love a Venetian setting).

Venetian Vespers is set at the turn of the 20th century and begins with writer Evelyn Dolman and his wife Laura on their way to Venice for a belated honeymoon – the reason for the delay is that Laura’s father died just after their marriage. Evelyn had been expecting Laura to inherit her father’s fortune, but due to some sort of conflict that Evelyn doesn’t fully understand, his father-in-law left everything to his other daughter instead. This is disappointing for Evelyn – but then, their whole marriage has been a disappointment so far and isn’t showing any signs of improving.

On their first night in Venice, Evelyn meets Frederick FitzHerbert, a man who claims to have been at school with him, although Evelyn can’t remember him at all. He doesn’t like to admit this, though, so falls into conversation with Freddie and is introduced to his beautiful sister, Francesca. Returning drunk to the palazzo near St Mark’s Square where he and Laura are staying, Evelyn behaves so badly towards his wife that when he wakes up in the morning she has disappeared. Despite feeling ashamed of himself, he makes no real attempt to find Laura, too distracted by thoughts of Francesca. But are Francesca and her brother really who they say they are and what do they want with Evelyn?

It’s obvious to the reader from early on that the FitzHerberts are con artists of some sort, but what we don’t know is what they’re hoping to achieve or why they’ve picked Evelyn as their target. We also don’t know what has happened to Laura, so there’s plenty of tension and mystery. However, the whole novel is narrated by Evelyn from a point in the future, which means there’s lots of foreshadowing and comments like “looking back, I can see” and “If I’d known then what I know now” and I found this a bit annoying. Also, all the foreshadowing and hinting meant I spent most of the book waiting for something dramatic to happen and when it eventually did, very late in the book, I felt slightly let down.

The book is beautifully written, though! Banville uses language appropriate to the period, with every word and phrase carefully chosen so that you could almost imagine it was written in an earlier time. It’s also extremely atmospheric. I love Venice but have only been there in the summer, in hot, sunny weather; Evelyn is there in the winter and the Venice he describes is a gloomy, sinister, forbidding place – “that place of glancing lights, distorting reflections, looming shadows”. It’s the perfect backdrop for the unpleasant, unlikeable characters (even our narrator is an awful person).

Although I couldn’t quite manage to love this book, I enjoyed it more than the other one I read by Banville and was captivated by the haunting portrayal of Venice and the tense, unsettling atmosphere. An ideal read for cold, dark evenings.

Thanks to Faber & Faber for providing a copy of this book for review via NetGalley.

The Book of Human Skin by Michelle Lovric – #DoorstoppersInDecember

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I loved Michelle Lovric’s The True and Splendid History of the Harristown Sisters – it was one of my books of the year in 2014, the year it was published – and I’ve always intended to read more of her work. I finally picked up her 2010 novel, The Book of Human Skin, in the summer, but when I saw how long it was (512 pages) I decided to save it for Laura’s Doorstoppers in December event instead!

I didn’t love this book quite as much as Harristown Sisters, but it’s still a fascinating story. Set in Venice and Peru around the turn of the 19th century, it has five very different narrators. The character around whom everything else revolves is Marcella Fasan, a young woman from an aristocratic Venetian family. From birth, Marcella has been the subject of her brother’s hatred and envy – being twelve years older, Minguillo has always expected to be the sole heir to the family fortune and he resents the arrival of a baby sister who poses a threat to his inheritance.

As the years go by, Minguillo’s treatment of Marcella becomes increasingly cruel and brutal, until her friends decide it’s time to intervene. One of these is Gianni, a servant in the Fasan household. Minguillo believes him to be stupid and illiterate, but this is far from the truth and Gianni uses Minguillo’s misconceptions to his advantage. There’s also Santo Aldobrandini, a young surgeon who develops his skills treating the wounded in Napoleon’s army before making his way to Venice where he falls in love with Marcella. When he hears of what Marcella has suffered at her brother’s hands he’s determined to do whatever he can to rescue her.

The perspective switches between these four characters – and a fifth I haven’t mentioned yet – as they take turns to tell the story. The strongest and most unusual narrative voice is Gianni’s; although he’s far more intelligent than Minguillo assumes and has learned to read and write, his grasp of the written language is still not very good and he spells words phonetically or uses the wrong word in place of the right one. I found this annoying and distracting at first, but eventually got used to it – and it does result in some amusing spelling mistakes, such as hair for heir, aunts for ants or storks for stalks. Minguillo’s narration is also very distinctive due to him being so malicious, spiteful and sadistic. Despite this, as a storyteller he’s clever and charming, which makes his parts of the novel very compelling as well as horribly disturbing.

The fifth narrator is Sor Loreta, a nun at the convent of Santa Catalina in Arequipa, Peru. Sor Loreta is a religious fanatic, convinced that she has been chosen by God and that she is on the path to sainthood. She despises anyone who stands in her way or tries to reason with her – and this includes the prioress, who believes Sor Loreta is deluded and insane. This storyline seems very separate from the others, particularly as it’s taking place in a completely different country, but they do all come together in the end!

You may be wondering about the title of the novel. Well, one of Minguillo’s interests is collecting books bound in human skin. Gruesome as it may sound, there really was a demand for these books, which peaked in the 19th century, and it’s not surprising that a character as wicked and cold-blooded as Minguillo would be drawn to a hobby like this.

Finally, I need to mention the historical note at the back of the book. It’s so long it’s practically a whole non-fiction book in its own right! Lovric tells us which characters were fictional and which were based on real people, before going into a lot of depth on various historical aspects of the book, particularly the history of Venetian and Peruvian nuns and what it was like to live in a convent. It’s much more detailed than you would usually expect an author’s note to be and it was very interesting to read.

As it turns out, this was the perfect time for me to read this book because a sequel, The Puffin, has recently been announced for publication in 2026. I was also interested to learn that one of the characters in the book, the painter Cecilia Cornaro, is the subject of one of Lovric’s earlier novels, Carnevale, so I’ll have to look for that one as well.

The Twelve Days of Christmas by Susan Stokes-Chapman

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I’ve previously only read one short story by Susan Stokes-Chapman (in the anthology The Winter Spirits) and I was interested in reading more of her work. This seemed like the perfect time of year to read her new book, The Twelve Days of Christmas!

The book is loosely based on the Christmas carol of the same name, with each chapter inspired by one of the gifts traditionally mentioned in the song – for example, Chapter 1 features pear trees and a character called Miss Partridge (“a partridge in a pear tree”) and Chapter 6 revolves around a game involving hidden goose eggs (“six geese a-laying”). In some cases this is done quite subtly, but in others it’s more heavy-handed; I can appreciate that it’s probably not easy to work all of these references into a novel without it beginning to feel unnatural!

Each chapter feels almost like a separate story (a few of them probably would work as standalones), but they are also linked together through shared characters and a shared setting. That setting is the little English village of Merrywake during the Regency period, with the Napoleonic Wars playing out in the background. Beginning on Christmas Day and ending on Twelfth Night, we join Viscount Pepin of Wakely Hall and his family, friends and servants as they celebrate the festive season. There’s a lovely Christmassy atmosphere as we watch the characters decorate the house, kiss under the mistletoe, open gifts, write and solve riddles, and prepare for the grand Twelfth Night Ball. But although it may all sound idyllic, not everyone at Wakely Hall is having a happy Christmas…

Stokes-Chapman explains in her author’s note that this book is her tribute to Jane Austen and Georgette Heyer and you can definitely see the influence of both. The Viscount and Viscountess Pepin (the name also has links to the song The Twelve Days of Christmas) with their five daughters immediately made me think of Austen’s Pride and Prejudice – the chapter based on “five gold rings” deals with the five girls and their hopes of marriage. The servants, though, are given just as much attention as the upper classes: there are stories about Loveday Lucas, the new kitchen maid, who can’t seem to do anything right; Will Moss the under-gardener, who appears to have fallen in love with someone completely unsuitable; and Mrs Wilson, the cold, strict housekeeper who is shocked to find that her staff consider her heartless.

I loved the world Stokes-Chapman created at Wakely Hall, but it was also nice to get some insights into the lives of the other residents of Merrywake, such as the village toymaker whose son, a drummer in the British army, has failed to come home from France. The toymaker’s story was one of the highlights of the book for me and together with the chapter that follows, about another army musician (a piper, as you may have guessed), it shows that the impact of the Napoleonic Wars is being felt all over the country, in even the smallest of communities.

The Twelve Days of Christmas is a lovely book and despite it obviously being very contrived in places, I found it completely absorbing. I particularly liked the way so many different characters from such varied backgrounds are all given their chance to shine, while each chapter also cleverly builds on the one before. I was sorry to say goodbye to the people of Merrywake and would love a sequel so we could catch up with them again in the summer!

Thanks to Random House UK, Vintage/Harvill for providing a copy of this book for review via NetGalley.

The Christmas Clue by Nicola Upson – #NovNov25

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I’m sure most of us are familiar with the board game Cluedo (or Clue, if you’re in America), but do you know who invented it? I didn’t, but thanks to Nicola Upson’s new novel, The Christmas Clue, I now know that it was invented in the 1940s by Anthony and Elva Pratt, a married couple from Birmingham. Upson tells the story of the game’s creation while also imagining a fictional murder mystery for the couple to solve.

It’s Christmas 1943 and Anthony and Elva are on their way to the Tudor Close Hotel in Rottingdean on the south coast of England. Although he’s currently working in a weapons factory, Anthony is a pianist and before the war he and Elva regularly provided entertainment for hotels, both of the musical sort and also hosting murder mystery events. They’ve been invited to host one of these at the Tudor Close over the Christmas weekend but, on arriving at the hotel, they quickly discover that the war has made things more challenging than usual – there are no actors available to play the various roles in the game and interact with the guests, so the Pratts are going to have to come up with a new format.

Before the game even begins, however, the couple find themselves with a real mystery to investigate. Stopping at their old friend Miss Silver’s shop in the town to collect a box of cigars for Anthony’s Christmas present, they discover Miss Silver’s body in the storeroom apparently beaten to death. The dead woman’s sister works at the Tudor Close and as Anthony and Elva look for more connections, they start to suspect that the killer could be one of the guests staying at the hotel.

The Christmas Clue is a very short book (novella length at 140 pages), but despite its shortness, Upson manages to create a satisfying murder mystery – I found some of the developments a bit far-fetched, but it was fun to read overall, despite taking a darker turn towards the end. I liked the hotel setting, although Elva and Anthony find it very different from their memories of visiting before the war: shortages of staff, no money for decent Christmas decorations, and a group of Canadian soldiers billeted nearby.

I’ve learned some interesting little facts about the game of Cluedo, both from the book itself and from feeling inspired to look things up while reading. For example, the name Cluedo is a pun on Ludo, another popular board game – which is less well known in America (though Parcheesi is similar) and that’s why the name was simplified to Clue. If Elva and Anthony had their way, it would have been called Murder at Tudor Close and was originally supposed to include additional rooms, weapons and characters. Elva was a talented artist and designed the artwork for the board.

This is the first book I’ve read by Nicola Upson, mainly because most of her other novels are mysteries where the sleuth is the real life author Josephine Tey. I’ve never felt entirely comfortable with the recent trend for using real people as detectives – and of course, Upson is doing the same in this book with Anthony and Elva Pratt. I wondered how the Pratts’ family might feel about it, so I was pleased to read Upson’s acknowledgments at the end where she says she has been in contact with Anthony and Elva’s daughter, Marcia Lewis, who gave her best wishes to the project. I think she can certainly be happy with the way her parents are portrayed in this book – they seem like a really lovely couple!

Thanks to Faber & Faber for providing a copy of this book for review via NetGalley.

Seascraper by Benjamin Wood – #NovNov25

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Several bloggers have been reading Benjamin Wood’s Booker Prize longlisted novella Seascraper for Novellas in November after our co-hosts Cathy and Rebecca named it their ‘buddy read’ for the month. I hadn’t decided whether to read it myself but when I discovered that it’s also going to be the starting point for Six Degrees of Separation in December, that helped me make up my mind!

Seascraper is set in an unspecified time period, which I managed to identify as the early 1960s (there are some references to Lawrence of Arabia, which was released in 1962). However, it feels much earlier than that due to the protagonist leading a life largely free of technology and doing a job that was done by his grandfather before him. His name is Thomas Flett and he’s a twenty-year-old man living with his mother in the fictional town of Longferry on the North West coast of England. Thomas has taught himself to play the guitar and dreams of becoming a folk singer, but that seems unlikely to happen because he and his mother rely on the money he makes through his work as a shanker, someone who catches shrimp by scraping the sand at low tide.

Thomas comes home one day to find his mother with a stranger, a man who introduces himself as the American director Edgar Acheson. Edgar is planning to make a new film with the Longferry beach as its setting and he offers to pay Thomas to guide him around the coastline, looking for suitable filming locations. Thomas accepts, as the money is too good to turn down, but when he and Edgar head out to the sea something happens which sets his life on a new course.

This is a quiet, simple story but also a powerful and atmospheric one. The author devotes a lot of time to describing the small, mundane details of Thomas’s daily routines, such as how he prepares his horse and cart for his early mornings shrimp fishing on the beach, so when Edgar Acheson arrives there’s a real sense of something momentous happening. The whole story takes place over a period of less than two days, but the events of those two days change everything for Thomas. Previously his whole world has revolved largely around his mother, who became pregnant with him at fifteen and has been shunned by the community as a result, but his new friendship with Edgar and an unexpected encounter with another person makes him reconsider what he really wants to do with his life.

Seascraper is a beautifully written novella and the coastal setting, with fog hanging over the sea and treacherous sinkpits in the sand, is vividly described. There’s a development later in the book that I would love to talk about, but I can’t really say any more about the plot without spoiling it. I wasn’t sure about this development at first, as it sent things in a direction I wasn’t anticipating, but now that I’ve finished I think it was the perfect way to move Thomas’s story forward. I’m so impressed by this book overall, particularly as it’s not one I was planning to read and I didn’t expect to enjoy it as much as I did.

Buckeye by Patrick Ryan

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In May 1945, Margaret Salt walks into a hardware store in the small town of Bonhomie, Ohio and asks if they have a radio. Cal Jenkins is working there that day and he accompanies Margaret into the office where they listen to President Truman informing the nation that Germany has surrendered to the Allies. Neither of them knows it, but this brief interaction will go on to have consequences that change both of their lives forever.

In Buckeye, Patrick Ryan explores the stories of Cal and his wife, Becky, and Margaret and her husband, Felix – two couples whose paths cross many times over a period of four decades. We learn more about Cal’s background and the disability that has kept him out of the war and we get to know Becky, who has a gift for communicating with the dead. We also hear about Margaret’s childhood, abandoned as a baby and raised in an orphanage, and we follow Felix as he suffers some traumatic experiences during the war. Later, the focus widens to include their children as we move forward into the 1960s and 70s and another war – Vietnam.

Almost as soon as I started to read I was reminded of Ann Patchett and I’m not suprised to see that other reviewers have made the same comparison. I think if you enjoyed Tom Lake or The Dutch House, there’s a good chance that you’ll enjoy this book as well – but even if you didn’t, give this one a try anyway as despite the similar feel, Patrick Ryan has his own style and a real talent for creating strong, engaging characters. I was particularly fond of Cal’s father, Everett; when we first meet him at the start of the book, he’s a lonely, bitter alcoholic, writing angry letters to the President and still grieving for his wife and daughter who died years earlier, but a crisis sets his life on a different course and Becky takes him under her wing.

I wasn’t sure at first how I would feel about Becky’s work as a spiritualist – I thought a paranormal element wouldn’t fit the tone of the book – but it actually works very well. It provides a source of conflict with Cal, who is not a believer, but Becky isn’t a fraud in any way: she truly wants to give peace and comfort to those who need it and she does seem to have a genuine ability to contact the dead. Margaret Salt is a complex character and her actions are not always very admirable, but learning more about her early life helped me to understand her. I liked Felix, though, and found several parts of his story very moving.

Buckeye is a long book, but family sagas usually are, and although the pace moves slowly at times it’s hard to know what could have been left out. As well as needing time to fully develop the characters, there are also several decades of American history to get through, with major events sometimes happening in the background but in other cases directly impacting the lives of the Jenkins and Salt families. I certainly don’t regret the length of time it took to read it – it’s definitely going to be one of my books of the year.

Thanks to Bloomsbury Publishing Plc (UK & ANZ) for providing a copy of this book for review via NetGalley.