The Voyage Home by Pat Barker

This is the final novel in Pat Barker’s trilogy telling the stories of some of the women involved in the Trojan War. Books one and two, The Silence of the Girls and The Women of Troy, focus on Briseis, who was given to Achilles as a prize of war, although I was surprised by the number of male perspectives that are also included in those two books, considering the titles! In The Voyage Home, we leave Briseis behind to follow three other characters as the victorious Greeks return home from the war.

One of these is Cassandra, the Trojan princess and prophet who is cursed never to be believed. Like Briseis, Cassandra has become a war prize – in her case, she has been taken as a concubine by Agamemnon, King of Mycenae. Then there’s Ritsa, a Trojan slave and healer given the job of accompanying Cassandra on the journey to Mycenae and acting as her personal servant. Finally there’s Clytemnestra, Agamemnon’s wife, who is grimly preparing for her husband’s return. It’s been a decade since Agamemnon sacrificed their daughter Iphigenia to the gods in exchange for a wind to sail to Troy, but Clytemnestra has never forgiven him and is ready to take her revenge.

I enjoyed the first two books in this trilogy and I did like this one as well, but not quite as much. I’ve read several other novels about Clytemnestra and the events of the Oresteia recently (including Elektra by Jennifer Saint and Clytemnestra by Costanza Casati) and I felt that her sections of the novel didn’t offer me much that was new or different. Having said that, the way Barker portrays Clytemnestra’s emotions – her anger, bitterness and grief – was very well done. There are also some atmospheric scenes of ghostly children haunting the palace – although, oddly, chanting British nursery rhymes such as Oranges and Lemons, which pulled me right out of the Ancient Greek setting!

Of the main characters, Ritsa is probably the easiest to like and as a servant, of a lower social status than the others, she has an interesting perspective on the events that unfold. Cassandra is a fascinating, complex character in the unusual position of being both enslaved and the wife of the king. She has already predicted the deaths of herself and Agamemnon but due to the curse she is under, nobody takes her seriously. I would have liked more of the book to have been written from Cassandra’s point of view, but instead Barker concentrates on showing her through the eyes of the other women: Clytemnestra, who views her with suspicion (after all, Agamemnon was her husband first) and Ritsa, who initially resents Cassandra for not being her beloved friend Briseis, who has not accompanied them to Mycenae. Ritsa sees Cassandra as wild and deluded, but gradually starts to have more sympathy for her.

This is a satisfying end to the trilogy, although if you haven’t read the first two books I’m sure you could read this one as a standalone.

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

The Ghost of Madison Avenue by Nancy Bilyeau

Christmas is always a good time to read ghost stories, I think! This one is even set in December – and is also a novella, which makes it a good choice if you’re looking for something quick to read over the Christmas holidays.

The story takes place in New York in December 1912. Helen O’Neill is part of an Irish-American family from the Bronx and since being widowed several years earlier she has been living with her two older brothers. Helen is determined not to be a financial burden on her family and has been working at the Metropolitan Museum of Art where she has proved to have a talent for restoration. She’s so good at it, in fact, that she catches the attention of the librarian Belle da Costa Greene, who entices her away from the museum with the offer of a job in the private library of the financier J.P. Morgan.

Starting work at the Morgan Library on Madison Avenue, Helen is captivated by the beautiful building with its thick bronze doors, marble rotunda and exquisite murals. But in the street outside, she sees something even more memorable – a young woman in old-fashioned dress, inappropriate for the cold winter weather, who suddenly disappears without trace. As the days go by, Helen has several more encounters with this strange girl whom only she seems able to see. Eventually, she begins to ask herself whether the girl could be a ghost and if so, is she trying to tell Helen something?

Even without the supernatural element, The Ghost of Madison Avenue is a fascinating piece of historical fiction. Morgan, of course, was a real person and his library on Madison Avenue can still be visited, but so was Belle da Costa Greene, a woman I’d never heard of but who seems to have led an interesting life. As I read, I kept thinking that she really deserved a novel of her own, then I discovered that at least two have already been written! They are The Personal Librarian by Marie Benedict and Victoria Christopher Murray and Belle Greene by Alexandra Lapierre.

As a ghost story, I thought the book was less successful. Not all ghost stories are scary (and not all need to be), but I didn’t find this one even a little bit eerie. It’s more of a story about Helen’s grief – she has never really come to terms with her husband’s death – and laying to rest the ghosts of her past so that she can finally move on with her life. I also found the book too short to be completely satisfying. A longer novel would have allowed Bilyeau to expand on some of the other topics she touched on, such as the aes sidhe of Irish mythology, and Helen’s relationship with her sister Bernadette, who has become a nun.

Still, I enjoyed this book and it didn’t take long to read! I’ve now read everything currently published by Nancy Bilyeau and will look forward to her next book in the Genevieve Planché series, hopefully coming next year.

Book 54 for the Historical Fiction Reading Challenge 2024

Gabriel’s Moon by William Boyd

William Boyd’s The Romantic was one of my books of the year in 2022, so I was excited about reading his new one, Gabriel’s Moon – although it did sound very different. Unlike The Romantic, which follows the entire life story of its hero, this book is a spy novel set over a much shorter period of time.

It’s 1960 and travel writer Gabriel Dax is visiting what is now the Democratic Republic of the Congo, where he has the opportunity to interview the new Prime Minister, Patrice Lumumba. During the conversation, which Gabriel captures on tape, Lumumba explains that he has enemies who want him dead and he provides the names of the three people he thinks are plotting to kill him. On his return home to London, Gabriel is convinced somebody has been inside his house in his absence and has been searching for something. It seems that somebody wants Gabriel’s tapes of the Lumumba interview – and their attempts to obtain them become more desperate once news emerges that Lumumba has been executed by a firing squad.

His accidental involvement in the Lumumba conspiracy brings Gabriel into contact with the mysterious Faith Green, an MI6 intelligence officer who sends him on a series of missions, the purpose of which Gabriel doesn’t fully understand. In a secondary storyline – which explains the title of the novel – Gabriel decides to consult a psychoanalyst, Dr Katerina Haas, in an attempt to get to the bottom of the mental health issues that have plagued him all his life, ever since his mother was killed in a house fire when he was six years old. The official cause of the fire was given as Gabriel’s night light, a candle inside a moon-shaped globe, but Gabriel’s memories of what actually happened that night are very different.

I enjoyed this book overall, but I found it a bit slow at times and, as a thriller, not particularly thrilling. There’s a lot of travel to various locations in Europe and Africa (all beautifully evoked), with a lot of sitting around in bars drinking and talking, but I never really felt that Gabriel was in much danger. Having said that, I was never bored and became fully drawn into the world of espionage, spies and double agents that Boyd creates, all set against a backdrop of the Cold War. I found it slightly unbelievable that the spies Gabriel meets all speak to him so openly, readily sharing secret information with him – but then, Gabriel doesn’t always know how to interpret that information and it’s his very innocence and gullibility that makes him so useful to Faith Green and MI6. As the story progresses, he eventually decides it’s time to stop being the self-described ‘useful idiot’ and try to take control of his own destiny.

Faith Green remains a bit of a shadowy, enigmatic character throughout the book and because I felt I never really got to know her, I became irritated by Gabriel’s obsessive infatuation with her, particularly as he already has a girlfriend, Lorraine – whom he looks down on because of her working-class background, while at the same time admitting that he’s only with her because he finds working-class women sexually attractive. Although I didn’t dislike Gabriel in general, some of his attitudes leave a lot to be desired!

One of the most interesting aspects of the novel for me was seeing Gabriel work through his hazy memories and his feelings of guilt about the tragic fire that took his mother’s life. Through his psychoanalysis sessions with Dr Haas, Gabriel is inspired to carry out his own investigations into the night of the fire and begins to uncover the truth. I thought this storyline worked well alongside the espionage one and gave us some more insights into Gabriel’s character.

Although Gabriel’s Moon works perfectly as a standalone, there were some loose threads left at the end that made me think this could be the first in a series – and I was pleased to find that William Boyd is indeed working on a second book. I’ll be looking out for it, but I also have lots of Boyd’s earlier novels still to read. I would be happy to hear your recommendations!

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

Book 53 for the Historical Fiction Reading Challenge 2024

The Royal Rebel by Elizabeth Chadwick

This is the first of a planned pair of novels telling the story of Joan of Kent, cousin of King Edward III. Chadwick refers to her throughout the book as Jeanette because that was the name given to her by the King’s son, Edward (known as the Black Prince), who had it engraved on a silver cup. I’ll do the same in this review to avoid confusion.

The Royal Rebel opens in 1338 with Jeanette preparing to leave her family behind and travel overseas with the royal court for the first time. Jeanette is only twelve years old, so in the absence of her mother she is chaperoned by Katerine, Countess of Salisbury. During the journey to Antwerp, Jeanette is drawn to one of the King’s household knights, Thomas Holland, and once they reach their destination they find opportunities to spend time together away from the watchful eye of the Countess. They continue their relationship for more than a year until Jeanette becomes pregnant and they decide to marry in secret, knowing that they would be unlikely to get the consent of her family or the King.

Soon after the wedding, Jeanette loses the child and then Thomas leaves to go to war. In his absence, Jeanette is forced into marriage with William Montagu, her younger brother’s friend whom she has always disliked. William is the son and heir of the Earl of Salisbury and both Jeanette’s mother and the Countess of Salisbury see it as a wonderful match. Although Jeanette confesses that she is already married and can provide evidence, the two women refuse to acknowledge it and the Montagu marriage goes ahead anyway. The rest of the novel follows Thomas and Jeanette in their long battle to prove the legitimacy of their marriage so that they can live together as husband and wife at last.

I love Elizabeth Chadwick’s books but wasn’t sure I was going to like this one at first. Most of the first half of the novel is devoted to the romance between Jeanette and Thomas and not much else – and with this being the first of two books on Jeanette’s life, Chadwick takes her time in developing this part of the story. Eventually, though, things do get much more compelling as our hero and heroine become embroiled in their mission to have their marriage ruled valid by the Pope. Jeanette’s mother, Margaret Wake, and the Countess of Salisbury are very much the villains here as they destroy evidence, play politics behind the scenes and even imprison Jeanette to ensure nothing interferes with their plans (in reality, it seems unclear whether they were aware of Jeanette’s marriage to Thomas Holland before pushing her into a bigamous marriage with William Montagu).

William is depicted as weak and immature, unwilling to defy his mother and make decisions of his own, but I – and I think Jeanette as well – began to feel sorry for him as the novel progressed, because he was under the control of the Countess just as much as she was and was wasting years of his life trapped in a false marriage to someone who would never love him. Jeanette, on the other hand, is the ‘rebel’ of the title and although, like William, she’s constrained by society and her noble status, she knows what she wants out of life and is determined to find a way to get it, however long it takes. Her brother, John, sums up the situation perfectly:

‘Women, when they gather together in their sewing groups to gossip, arrange marriages for their relatives like stitching secret patterns on their embroideries. I envy you because you have chosen to sew your own colours and to walk away from it all, even at a great cost to yourself and others.’

Jeanette’s age, being barely in her teens at the time of her marriage to the older Thomas, will obviously be problematic to a modern audience so Chadwick chooses not to focus on it too much. Although she does tell us at the beginning how old Jeanette is, she doesn’t make a big thing of it and it’s easy to forget about the age difference as you read. This first novel only covers the early part of Jeanette’s life, ending in 1350, so anyone who knows this period of history will know that there’s a lot more to come in the second novel. There’s no news on its publication yet, but I’ll be looking out for it.

Thanks to Little, Brown Book Group UK for providing a copy of this book for review via NetGalley.

Book 52 for the Historical Fiction Reading Challenge 2024

Poor Girls by Clare Whitfield

It’s 1922 and Eleanor Mackridge, like many women, is finding it difficult to adjust to ‘normal life’ now that the war has ended. Compared to working in a munitions factory and feeling that she was doing something important for her country, her new job waitressing at a Brighton hotel is dull and boring. Marriage could offer an escape route, but that doesn’t sound very appealing either, so when Eleanor crosses paths with a member of the all-female crime gang, the Forty Elephants, the temptation to join them is too strong to resist.

Now known as Nell, she moves to London where she is assigned to a cell – a group of four gang members who live and work together – and begins her education in the art of theft. Soon she knows how to steal expensive furs and jewels from London’s grandest department stores, how to conceal her loot in hidden pockets and, most importantly, how to avoid being arrested. Although her conscience troubles her at first, she soon learns to love her new life and her new friends. But what will Nell’s family say when they discover what she is doing? And what will happen if her luck runs out and she gets caught?

Poor Girls is an enjoyable, fast paced novel rooted in historical fact. I wasn’t aware until I finished the book and read the author’s note that the Forty Elephants really existed (the name comes from the Elephant and Castle area of London, where they were based). Although the gang leader, Alice Diamond – known as Queen Alice – was a real person, Nell Mackridge seems to be a fictional character. However, through the stories of Nell and her friends, Whitfield explores some of the factors that may have driven young women like them to turn to a life of crime.

It was fascinating to see how the gang operated and to watch Nell learning all the tricks of the trade – all the cons, deceptions and disguises she needed to be able to avoid detection. Interestingly, women had an advantage when it came to shoplifting as store security were reluctant to stop and search female customers. Also, all those layers of clothing they wore were useful for hiding stolen goods! The success of their operations depended on working together as a team, so trust was necessary between the members of each cell and Nell formed strong bonds with Effie, Lily and Charlie, her partners in crime.

I did have one or two minor criticisms of the book: I felt that the characters of Nell’s three friends could have been more clearly defined – Charlie and Lily, in particular, seemed interchangeable – and there were times when the language felt more 2020s than 1920s. Otherwise, this was a very entertaining novel with a plot not quite like any other I’ve read. I also liked the fact that, although crime is obviously not something we should admire or find glamorous and Whitfield does make the consequences clear, at the same time she isn’t trying to push a moral message onto the reader. The ending of the book isn’t quite what you would expect either, but it’s probably more realistic that way.

It seems that Alice Diamond and the Forty Elephants have been the subject of several recent novels and there’s a non-fiction book available as well. I’m not sure how I’ve missed them all, but will investigate them now. I would also like to read Clare Whitfield’s earlier novel, People of Abandoned Character.

Thanks to the publisher for making a copy of this book available for review via The Pigeonhole.

Book 51 for the Historical Fiction Reading Challenge 2024

City of Silk by Glennis Virgo

I love reading about Renaissance Italy, but most novels focus on Rome, Florence or Venice, so this one, set in Bologna – famous for its silk industry in the 16th century – was something slightly different.

It’s 1575 and our narrator, Elena Morandi, is working as a seamstress in Signora Ruffo’s workshop. Although she was raised in an orphanage from the age of ten after the death of both parents, Elena remembers the skills she was taught by her father, a tailor, and has proved to have a real talent for needlework. However, she’s bored with sewing women’s gowns and capes and longs to work on men’s clothing and gain the title of tailor rather than seamstress. Sadly, this is not an option for a woman and Elena seems destined to stay with Signora Ruffo – until she flees to escape an arranged marriage.

In need of a new job, Elena decides to pursue her dreams and manages to obtain a lowly position in a tailor’s workshop, sweeping the floor and fetching fabrics and threads for the Maestro, Francesco Rondinelli, and his three tailors. Then, just as she’s settling into her new life, a figure from her past walks into Rondinelli’s workshop to ask for a fitting. This is Antonio della Fontana, benefactor of the orphanage Elena attended and one of the most powerful men in Bologna. He had abused his position of power at the orphanage and it seems that nothing has changed; when even Rondinelli and his friends begin to suffer at the hands of Fontana, Elena decides it’s time to take revenge.

City of Silk is one of several historical novels I’ve read recently that deal with women trying to forge a career for themselves in fields traditionally dominated by men. Tracy Chevalier’s The Glassmaker, Joanne Burn’s The Bone Hunters and Ambrose Parry’s The Spendthrift and the Swallow are three I’ve read just this year (featuring, respectively, a female glassmaker, a female would-be geologist and a woman desperate to become a doctor). This is obviously another and while I admired Elena’s determination and ambition, I would have liked more detail on why she felt it was so important to become a tailor instead of aspiring to be like Signora Ruffo, who was running her own successful business and was financially independent. I’m not sure I really understood why Elena seemed to look down on seamstresses so much or why she considered it so much more rewarding to make clothes for men rather than women.

As mentioned above, I did love the setting. I’ve never been to Bologna, but Virgo’s descriptions brought it to life for me. I also found it interesting to learn about the city’s role as a leading European centre of silk production and what it was like to work in a tailor’s or seamstress’s workshop during that period. Most of the characters are fictional, but Virgo explains in her author’s note at the end that a few of them really existed and another is inspired by a portrait in the National Gallery!

The scheme Elena and her friends come up with to take their revenge on Fontana seemed very unlikely to me – I couldn’t imagine anybody actually doing what they did, particularly not in the 16th century – but otherwise the plot was quite entertaining. This is Glennis Virgo’s first novel (for which she has won the Debut Writers Over 50 Award) and although I’m not sure if I’ll read her next one, I could be tempted depending on the subject.

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

Book 50/50 for the Historical Fiction Reading Challenge 2024

The Lost Queen by Carol McGrath

Berengaria of Navarre is one of the Queens of England I know least about and I’m sure I’m not alone in that as so little has been written about her. I’ve read novels in which she appears briefly as a secondary character, but with the exception of Martha Rofheart’s Lionheart, nothing where she takes a more central role. In The Lost Queen, Carol McGrath builds Berengaria’s story around the small amount of factual information we have about her, taking us through the early days of her marriage to King Richard I and her time spent in the Holy Land, where she accompanied Richard on the Third Crusade.

Like the other McGrath books I’ve read, there’s also a fictional heroine whose story takes place alongside the real historical one. In this case, it’s Lady Avelina of Middleton, whose husband William has disappeared after leaving for Outremer three years earlier to claim his father’s estate. William’s half-brother, Walter, is insisting that William must have become caught up in the Crusades and killed in battle, but Avelina suspects that Walter simply has his eye on herself and Middleton. Avelina is determined to prove that her husband is still alive and sets off to look for him, attaching herself to a party of nuns who are travelling to Jerusalem in search of a religious relic to bring back to their abbey.

During the journey, Avelina’s path crosses with Berengaria’s, who is on her way to her wedding with Richard. Richard’s mother, Eleanor of Aquitaine, escorts Berengaria as far as Sicily, then Eleanor’s daughter Joanna accompanies her from there to Cyprus and then the Holy Land. Avelina and the nuns join them along the way and a friendship forms between Avelina and the new queen.

Berengaria is known as the only English queen never to visit England (although it’s now thought that she may have done after Richard’s death). This means that, apart from a few chapters involving Avelina, most of the novel is set elsewhere in Europe and the Middle East. I particularly enjoyed the descriptions of all the adventures the characters have on the journey: crossing the Alps in the middle of winter; surviving assassination attempts; being shipwrecked off the coast of Cyprus and held prisoner.

As I know so little about Berengaria I can’t really comment on the accuracy of the novel. McGrath does include an author’s note, in which she explains some of her decisions and how she worked with the available information to create the story. We do know that Berengaria never had children, for example, but McGrath suggests that she may have been pregnant with Richard’s child and had a miscarriage. The Avelina chapters of the book obviously allow for a lot more invention and imagination and there are also a few sections here and there narrated by other characters such as Blondel, the troubadour, or Ursula, one of Berengaria’s ladies. I can understand why these perspectives were included, as they fill in some of the gaps, showing us things that Berengaria and Avelina don’t witness for themselves, but I didn’t feel they really added much to the story and we don’t spend enough time with these characters to form any kind of emotional connection.

The book ends before the death of Richard I and I was sorry that we didn’t continue with Berengaria’s later years as it would have been interesting to see how she dealt with being a widow and queen dowager. However, even less is known about that period of Berengaria’s life, so maybe it was the right decision for the book to end when it did. I’ll be looking out for news on which historical figure Carol McGrath is writing about next!

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

Book 48/50 for the Historical Fiction Reading Challenge 2024