Category: Historical Fiction

A Civil Contract by Georgette Heyer – #1961Club

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This week, Karen of Kaggsy’s Bookish Ramblings and Simon of Stuck in a Book are hosting another of their clubs where we all read and write about books published in the same year – and this time it’s 1961! There are some authors who were so prolific you can usually rely on them to have had a book published in any given year and one of those authors is Georgette Heyer. Her novel from 1961 is A Civil Contract and it’s one I hadn’t read before, so I decided to read it for the club.

A Civil Contract is set, like most of her novels, in the Regency period and begins with Adam Deveril, the new Viscount Lynton, returning from the Peninsular War to find his family facing financial ruin. It seems that his father, who recently died, has left so much debt that the Deverils could have to sell Fontley, their beloved country estate. Adam is also forced to end his relationship with the woman he loves, Julia Oversley, knowing that a marriage between the two of them will no longer be considered appropriate. Julia’s father, Lord Oversley, however, has a possible solution to Adam’s money problems – his friend, Jonathan Chawleigh, is a very wealthy merchant and has a daughter whom he is determined to marry into the aristocracy.

Compared to the beautiful Julia, Adam finds Jenny Chawleigh plain and ordinary, but as he gets to know her better he quickly discovers that she’s intelligent, funny, sensible and kind-hearted. To Mr Chawleigh’s delight, the marriage goes ahead, with his daughter gaining the title of Lady Lynton, and in return Adam receives the money he needs to keep Fontley in the family and provide for his mother and sisters. It’s a practical marriage rather than one made for love and Jenny understands that Adam’s heart still lies with Julia, but the two are quite happy together – except on the many occasions when Mr Chawleigh interferes and becomes irritatingly over-generous with his money!

I enjoyed this book. It’s not as much fun as some of Heyer’s others – it’s a quieter, more mature novel, similar to Black Sheep, for example – but I liked the characters and the realistic portrayal of a marriage of convenience in that era. There’s no passionate romance here, just two people learning to get along together. I did feel sorry for Jenny, though, because she clearly loves Adam from the beginning and has to accept that he doesn’t feel the same way about her, at least not while Julia is still around. He does eventually start to see Julia in a slightly different light, but there’s still a sense that part of him will always love her and not Jenny. As a romance, then, the book is not entirely satisfying, but it’s believable.

We don’t really get the sparkling, witty dialogue between hero and heroine that we get in other Heyer novels, but there’s still some humour, mainly provided by Jenny’s father, Mr Chawleigh. He’s a wonderful character – he’s loud and overbearing, considered ‘vulgar’ by upper class society, but he’s also well-meaning and genuinely wants to use his money to make Adam and Jenny happy. I enjoyed watching his relationship with Adam develop as they come to understand and respect each other, despite some serious differences of opinion along the way.

So, I don’t think I would name A Civil Contract one of my absolute favourite Heyer novels, but it’s still one that I liked very much and a perfect choice to start my 1961 Club reading.

Circle of Shadows by Marisa Linton

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Mystery, fantasy, historical fiction, dark academia…this is a difficult book to classify as it’s all of those things and more. Most importantly, it’s also a fascinating, entertaining read and after finishing it I was pleased to learn that it’s the first in a series, with the second book, Domain of Darkness, coming later this year.

The novel is set in 1904 and follows Evie Winstanley, the daughter of a scholar who collects occult books. When her father is found dead in his study, with his clothes dripping with water and a circular symbol chalked on the floor beside him, Evie is determined to find out what has happened to him. Convinced that he was working on some kind of occult ritual before his death, she manages to identify the symbol as the Kuroskato, or circle of shadows.

Evie’s investigations take her first to a country house on the Yorkshire moors and then to Oxford, where she learns more about the Kuroskato and how it could be dangerous in the hands of the wrong people. She also meets two very different men: Marcus Ellingham, a reporter for The Ghost Hunter, who has written a series of articles on fraudulent mediums, and Aubrey Penhallow, a country gentleman who is an expert on horse racing. One of them is a friend from the beginning, whereas the other is much more difficult to interpret. As Evie’s path crosses with both men again and again throughout the book, she must decide which, if either, can be trusted.

I enjoyed this book and liked the way the supernatural elements were always there in the background but never really dominated the story too much. Yes, this is a world where the dark arts really exist, where people can be possessed and spirits can be summoned, but Linton manages to weave these things into the plot in a way that feels convincing and believable. The mixture of a scholarly historical setting with a real, practical system of magic kept reminding me of Susanna Clarke’s Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell, although the plots of the two books are very different.

I also found Evie a very engaging character. She shares her father’s love of history, books and archaeology, but as a woman in Edwardian England her opportunities to pursue an academic career of her own are very limited. When she finds her way to Oxford University in search of answers to the mystery, she has to navigate the halls of all-male colleges, gain access to the Bodleian Library and infiltrate a secret society, the Sons of Dionysus, made up of rich and privileged young men. The sections of the book set in Oxford are wonderfully atmospheric, whether Linton is describing the world of academia, the bustling streets of the tourist areas or the banks of the River Cherwell at night. The earlier parts of the book, where Evie and her sister visit Yorkshire are just as vividly described and the country estate with its dark and sinister lake provides a contrast to the urban setting we see later on.

Although I guessed who the villain was in advance, I was still satisfied with the ending, particularly as it sets things up perfectly for the second book. I can’t wait to see what Evie does next and wish we didn’t have to wait until December to find out!

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

The Infamous Gilberts by Angela Tomaski

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Welcome to Thornwalk, home of the last Wynford Gilberts – Lydia, Hugo, Annabel, Jeremy and Rosalind. The downfall of this great family was once the subject of much tawdry gossip and many a sensational headline, and perhaps you hold in your heart some remnant, some echo of this. If so, I ask you to let it go, and here, with me, meet them all anew.

The Infamous Gilberts is an English country house novel with a difference. It begins in 2002 with the news that Thornwalk House, a crumbling mansion in Somerset, is being sold to a hotel chain. Before the hotel people arrive and all traces of the family who once lived there are removed forever, an old family friend, Maximus, takes the reader by the hand and leads us through the house, room by room, looking for clues and secrets left behind that reveal who the Gilberts really were. Each chapter is headed by a different item – The Burn on the Library Rug, Dancing Slippers, A Tuft of Wool, etc – and Maximus goes on to tell us the significance of that item and the story behind it.

I found this book very difficult to get into because the writing style felt so forced and artificial. The narrator speaks directly to the reader, as in the quote I provided above, referring to us as ‘you’ and telling us to climb the staircase, open the door, switch on the light and so on. This made it hard to become immersed in the story and form any kind of connection with the characters. I came close to abandoning the book but instead put it aside for a few days and tried again later. This time I persevered and eventually the narrative style became less annoying and intrusive. As the five Gilbert children, whom I found indistinguishable when they were younger, grew into adults, they also developed as characters and I started to find the story much more compelling.

Beginning in the 1920s and ending in the early 21st century, the book follows the lives of the Gilbert siblings who, in the absence of their father, are raised at Thornwalk by a mother who is struggling to cope and largely leaves them to their own devices. As a result, all five become adults who are damaged or troubled in some way. Hugo, the eldest son, goes away to fight in the Second World War and returns deeply affected by his experiences. Depressed, paranoid and increasingly unstable, he starts to take his frustration out on the people around him. His younger brother Jeremy, on the other hand, is rejected by the army on health grounds and is left with a feeling of inadequacy that leads to him leaving home and spending the rest of his adult life moving from country to country, never really settling down.

As for the three sisters, the youngest, Rosalind, becomes an actress and her shocking actions make her the most infamous of all the Gilberts. Then there’s Lydia, who causes another family scandal by falling in love with her tutor as a teenager and after being forced to end the relationship never seems happy or content ever again. Finally, Annabel suffers from an unspecified mental illness and is considered ‘mad’, but in many ways she is the most shrewd and sensible member of the family. Annabel is also the only one I actually liked; apart from Jeremy, whom we barely see, I found the others so unpleasant it was very difficult to have any sympathy for them.

As you can probably tell, this is a very dark book with some disturbing storylines. I’m not sure why the blurb describes it as hilarious, because I didn’t think it was very funny at all, but maybe that’s just me. I didn’t really understand the role of Maximus in the story either; he tells us that he’s a close friend of the family, particularly Hugo, but almost never interacts with them or features in any of the accounts he gives us of their lives. It seemed that he was there purely because the unusual style and structure of the book required someone to be the narrator rather than because he had any other significance.

I think some readers will enjoy this book and some will struggle with it – although somehow I did both! If anyone else has read it, I would love to hear what you thought.

Thanks to Penguin UK/Fig Tree for providing a copy of this book for review via NetGalley.

West by Carys Davies – #ReadingWales26

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This month Karen of Booker Talk and Kathryn of Nut Press are hosting Reading Wales, celebrating the work of Welsh authors. I have chosen a book by Carys Davies, an author born in Llangollen, North Wales. Last year I read and enjoyed her most recent book, Clear, which is set in Scotland during the Highland Clearances. West, published in 2018, was her first novel and the setting and subject matter are very different, but the two books do share some similar themes.

West is set in America in the early 19th century, a few years after the famous Lewis and Clark Expedition, and revolves around Cy Bellman, a widowed mule breeder who lives in Pennsylvania with his ten-year-old daughter, Bess. Inspired by stories of the expedition and by an article he reads in the newspaper describing the discovery of huge animal bones found in a Kentucky swamp, Cy decides to set out on a journey west to find the giant animals he believes must still be roaming in the wild. Everyone else thinks he’s a fool, including his sister Julie, but Cy is determined to prove them all wrong.

As well as following Cy Bellman’s journey into the wilderness, Davies explores the effects his departure has on Bess, left behind on the mule farm with Aunt Julie as her father rides off into uncharted territories. He tells her he’ll back in a year, or maybe two, but that’s a very long time for a ten-year-old girl and she thinks about her father daily. Unlike the others, Bess doesn’t think he’s being foolish – she’s proud of him and thinks of him as a brave, noble figure. She has no doubt that he’ll find the animals he’s searching for and will return safe and well. Her own wellbeing, however, is a different matter, as in Bellman’s absence, their scheming neighbour Elmer Jackson has set his sights on the farm and the women who live there.

Davies writes from the perspectives of both Cy and Bess, with occasional sections from other characters’ points of view. The passages describing the landscape Cy passes through as he travels west are vivid and feel authentic, stressing the vastness of the land, the harshness of the winters and the sense of isolation as he moves further away from civilization. Along the way he acquires a guide, a Shawnee boy with the unflattering name of Old Woman from a Distance, who helps him hunt for food and navigate dangerous river crossings in return for gifts of ribbons, beads and other small items. Cy’s attitude towards his guide is as you would expect, given the time period, and now and then we also get a glimpse of the guide’s thoughts about Cy. The fact that neither speaks the other’s language adds another obstacle to their relationship and despite spending so much time in each other’s company, neither makes the attempt to learn. Instead, they communicate through looks and gestures and through showing emotion. This idea of communication without a common language is explored in more depth in Davies’ later book, Clear.

West is novella-length, which makes it a quick read, but it’s also a powerful, gripping story and I don’t think it needed to be any longer. I’m looking forward to reading Davies’ other novel, The Mission House, and her two short story collections.

Appointment in Paris by Jane Thynne

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This is a sequel to Jane Thynne’s Midnight in Vienna, which I read in 2024 and enjoyed. That book was set just before the beginning of the Second World War and followed two characters – former MI5 spy, Harry Fox, and a gifted linguist, Stella Fry – who team up to look into the suspicious death of a famous crime writer. Appointment in Paris brings Harry and Stella together again to investigate a second murder, but this one is a separate mystery so if you haven’t read the first book yet, it’s not completely essential.

The novel opens in April 1940 at Trent Park, a country house in Cockfosters, north London. The house has been requisitioned by the government as a facility for holding captured German pilots who have no idea that their rooms are bugged with microphones while a team of ‘listeners’ eavesdrop on their conversations. One night, a man in a Luftwaffe captain’s uniform is found dead in the grounds and the next morning, it’s discovered that one of the listeners has disappeared. Assuming that the missing man killed the German captain and then fled, the people in charge are desperate to catch him in case he gives away any of Trent Park’s secrets. This is where Harry and Stella come in…

Since the events of the previous novel, Stella Fry has settled into a new job making documentaries for the GPO Film Unit and is not very happy when she’s summoned by Maxwell Knight of MI5 who orders her to go and work at Trent Park as a listener. Stella is reluctant to go but her fluency in German and the fact that the suspected killer is an old friend from her university days means she’s the ideal choice to go undercover and try to find out what really happened. Meanwhile, Harry Fox has also been given orders by Knight – his mission is to stay in London and look for any information that could lead them to the missing man.

I enjoyed Appointment in Paris just as much as the first book, although I would have liked to have seen Harry and Stella working together more closely – they have very separate storylines in this book and their paths only cross occasionally. Stella’s story was the one that interested me most. I loved learning more about Trent Park and the work of the listeners, many of whom were German-Jewish refugees who had fled persecution and were assisting the British war effort. It was an emotionally difficult, often unpleasant job as the listeners would overhear all kinds of disturbing conversations between the German prisoners. As the title suggests, Stella’s investigations eventually take her to Paris, where she meets Noël Coward, who is running Britain’s Bureau of Propaganda. Although most of the characters in the book are fictional, inserting a real person here didn’t feel too forced or unnatural, especially as Coward had already been referenced several times via Stella’s actress friend, Evelyn, who is performing in one of his plays.

As she does in the previous novel, Thynne evokes the time period perfectly, describing the mood of the public during the eight months known as the Phoney War and how things abruptly changed in May 1940 with the invasion of France, Belgium, Luxembourg and the Netherlands, and the increased threat to Britain. It’s the little details that give the novel its colour – people hurrying home earlier than usual in the evenings because the blackout made it difficult to walk in the dark; newspapers shrinking in size because Scandinavian pulp supplies had been cut off; Parisian waiters taking payment before serving food because they are often interrupted by air raid sirens and the patrons forget to pay. The strong sense of time and place makes everything feel real and convincing.

Having enjoyed both books about Stella and Harry, I’m now hoping there’s going to be a third. The way this one ended definitely made me think that there will be – and as we’re still in 1940, there’s a lot more of the war to cover. I would also like to read some of her earlier novels, which also sound interesting.

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

The Night Hag by Hester Musson

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Have you ever suffered from sleep paralysis – the feeling that you’re awake but can’t move your body? Maybe it’s accompanied by a sensation of pressure on your chest, as if something is pinning you to the bed, or the impression that someone is in your room. It’s more common than you may think – many people will experience it at least once or twice in their life – and it inspired the famous painting, The Nightmare by Henry Fuseli. In fact, the word ‘nightmare’ itself (originally hyphenated as night-mare) comes from the idea of a mythological female demon (a ‘mare’ or ‘hag’) sitting on the chest of a sleeping person. Someone who has had a lot of experience of these terrifying night-mares is Lil Vincent in Hester Musson’s new novel, The Night Hag.

It’s 1886 and Lil Vincent has been free of the night-mares, as she calls them, for many years, but recently they have started again and are becoming increasingly intense. Frightened and desperate, Lil writes a letter to the renowned Edinburgh doctor, Dr Lachlan. Relieved to be able to open her heart to somebody at last, even somebody she’s never met, she finds herself telling him all about her childhood, growing up as the daughter of a medium who forced her to participate in fraudulent séances.

Her childhood has left scars that still persist, even today as she tries to build a new life for herself as an archaeologist. Lil is assisting Nils and Effie Jensen with a dig on what they believe is a Bronze Age burial mound in the fictional Scottish village of Pitcarden. When they come across two cinerary urns and a bronze knife, Lil thinks they are on the verge of a significant discovery, but it seems that the villagers are unhappy with their presence and they may not be allowed to complete their excavations.

This is the second novel I’ve read by Hester Musson, the first being The Beholders. Although I found this one a more original and intriguing story, I did have some of the same problems I had with the other book – mainly that the first half is very slow and it took me a long time to become immersed in it. It didn’t help that there are several different threads to the story – Lil’s sleep disturbances, the séances and the archaeological dig – and they all feel very separate, never really coming together until the end.

Once I did get into the story, I found it interesting. There’s a good sense of time and place, with the community of rural Pitcarden steeped in superstition and folklore. The second half of the book drew me in much more than the first half did, and I began to have a lot of sympathy for Lil as she discovers that almost everyone in her life has been lying to her or deceiving her in one way or another. The way one particular character betrays her trust is quite shocking and Lil is deeply affected by it all. But although it’s a dark book, there are some glimmers of hope in the final chapters and the ending is satisfying, so I’m glad I persevered with it.

If you read this book and enjoy it, I would also recommend reading The Hill in the Dark Grove by Liam Higginson, another book about archaeology and superstition in a rural setting. It has a similar tone and atmosphere and I think it may appeal to the same readers.

Thanks to 4th Estate and William Collins for providing a copy of this book for review via NetGalley.

The Strawberry House by Rachel Burton

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It’s February 1952 and journalist Henry Aldridge is planning an article on the recent death of King George VI when his editor approaches him with a completely different assignment. He wants Henry to report on the restoration of Montagu Manor, a country house near Oxford that was partially destroyed by fire in the summer of 1938 and later requisitioned by the army after the outbreak of war. Henry reluctantly accepts the job, but doesn’t admit that he himself had been a guest at the house during that fateful summer.

In 1938, Montagu Manor was home to Sir Philip Kerrigan, his wife and four children. It was the son, Anthony, who invited Henry to spend the summer with them, relaxing, fishing in the river and contemplating their next steps, having both recently graduated from Oxford University. Henry, the son of a factory owner, is expected to go into the family business, but what he really wants to do is become a newspaper reporter, something he knows his father will never agree to. When he meets Anthony’s sister, Camilla, he discovers that she is in a similar position – she desperately wants to attend Oxford and study for a degree like her brother, but Sir Philip has refused, believing a woman’s duty is to marry and have children. Camilla is determined that she will never marry, but when she and Henry fall in love she begins to reconsider.

The 1952 thread of the novel tells us that something went wrong between Henry and Camilla and they haven’t seen each other since the year of the fire, but we won’t find out what happened until much later in the book. And there are other questions to be answered too. What caused the fire and what was the significance of the unfinished painting that went missing during it? Who exactly were the Kensington Circle, the group of artists staying at the house at the same time as Henry? By moving backwards and forwards between 1952 and 1938, the answers begin to emerge.

I really enjoyed The Strawberry House. I seem to have read a lot of historical novels about English country houses with secrets and at first I thought this one was going to be very similar. What set it apart, though, is how much I liked and cared about the characters, particularly Henry, who seemed like a genuinely nice person torn between following his own heart and trying to keep everyone else happy. I was also fond of his photographer friend, Frank, and Camilla’s little sister, Cassie, who has a talent for writing. Because I was so invested in the characters and their lives, it made me more eager to see how everything would unfold as the truth about the summer of 1938 started to become clear.

In case you’re wondering, the title of the book is inspired by Strawberry Thief, a beautiful design by William Morris. Morris and the Arts and Crafts Movement are referenced throughout the book and the fictional Montagu Manor is located close to Morris’s home, Kelmscott Manor in Oxfordshire. Although this is the first Rachel Burton novel I’ve read, many of her others seem to have a house at the heart of the story and I’ll look forward to exploring more of them.

Thanks to Boldwood Books for providing a copy of this book for review via NetGalley.