The Luminaries by Eleanor Catton

The Luminaries This is the novel that won the Booker Prize in 2013 but despite the hype surrounding it at the time and the fact that it did sound like a book I would enjoy, I have been putting off reading it, mainly because of its length. As well as the Booker Prize, though, it was also nominated for the Walter Scott Prize in 2014 and as I’m slowly working through the shortlists for that particular prize, I decided it was time I read it.

The Luminaries is set in the New Zealand town of Hokitika during the Gold Rush of the 1860s. The story revolves around several strange occurrences which all take place on the same night in January 1866: Emery Staines, one of the town’s richest men disappears without trace; prostitute Anna Wetherell collapses in the street in what is thought to be a suicide attempt; and the reclusive Crosbie Wells is found dead in his own home, surrounded by a large quantity of hidden gold. These things may not seem to be connected at first, but of course they are – as is everything else that happens throughout the 800 pages of this very clever and complex novel.

The first and by far the longest section of the book begins with the arrival of Scottish lawyer, Walter Moody, who is hoping to make his fortune on the goldfields. On his first evening in Hokitika he walks into the Crown Hotel to find that he has interrupted a meeting between twelve men who have gathered to try to make sense of what has been happening. These twelve men are all linked in some way with Emery, Anna, Crosbie or all three – and as Walter listens to their stories he too is drawn into the mystery.

In the sections of the novel that follow – each one half the length of the one before – we move forwards and then backwards in time learning more about each of the main characters and the events leading up to the night of 14th January 1866.

The decreasing length of the chapters corresponds with a waning moon (hinted at by the images on the front cover), one of many astrological elements Eleanor Catton has incorporated into the novel. The character list at the front of the book lists the twelve men who meet in the hotel under the heading ‘Stellar’ and each one is associated with a sign of the Zodiac, while the other characters are listed as ‘Planetary’. Each of the twelve sections of the book begins with an astrological chart and within each section the individual chapters have astrological titles. This was intriguing at first but as I don’t have a lot of interest in astrology it didn’t mean much to me and I quickly gave up trying to interpret it and concentrated on following the story instead.

I have seen lots of comparisons between The Luminaries and the Victorian sensation novels of Wilkie Collins, one of my favourite authors, but I’m not sure if I really agree with that comparison. The book does include lots of elements of the sensation novel (hidden treasure, opium addiction, double identities, séances, forgeries and family secrets) but Eleanor Catton’s writing, in my opinion, lacks the flair and humour of Wilkie Collins’ and the gift for creating strong, unforgettable characters. Apart from one or two, the twelve men of the Crown felt interchangeable and I had to keep looking back at the character list to remind myself which was which. The other eight were slightly stronger (they were the Planetary characters and the ones who tended to drive the story forward) but of these, Anna Wetherell was the only one I really came to care about.

I did enjoy reading The Luminaries, though, and can definitely see why it has been so successful. I was very impressed by the intricate plotting with facts and secrets being slowly unveiled and connections between the characters gradually revealed. I also loved the setting; I have read very few novels set in New Zealand and I certainly haven’t read any set in a New Zealand gold mining town in the 1860s! Because Hokitika is a real place, I could find lots of pictures online which really helped to bring the setting to life. The length of the book wasn’t a problem for me either; the pages seemed to go by much more quickly than I’d expected them to – especially in the second half, where the chapters become shorter and the pace becomes faster.

I know there were a lot of things happening in The Luminaries that I didn’t completely understand (especially all of the allusions to astrology) and lots of little details that I missed. I would probably have to read the book again to be able to fully appreciate it, but for now I’m happy just to have read it once and to have enjoyed it!

The Devil on her Tongue by Linda Holeman

The Devil on her Tongue One day in 1745, a Dutch sailor called Arie ten Brink leaves his home on the Portuguese island of Porto Santo and sets sail for Brazil where he hopes to make his fortune. His thirteen-year-old daughter, Diamantina, is heartbroken; left behind on Porto Santo with her mother, a former African slave, life is not easy and she vows to join her father in Brazil one day.

While she waits for a letter saying that he has reached his destination, Diamantina faces struggles with poverty, her mother’s reputation as a witch, and men who are ready to take advantage of a lonely, vulnerable young woman. Eventually an offer of marriage gives Diamantina a chance to escape, but the marriage is not what she would have hoped for and it seems that her ordeals are not yet over.

I love Linda Holeman’s books (I’ve read all of her adult novels apart from her first one, The Linnet Bird) so it was disappointing to find that The Devil on her Tongue was initially published only in Canada. Luckily for me, Traverse Press have now made it available as an ebook, as they did with the previous one, The Lost Souls of Angelkov, so readers in the UK and US are now able to read it as well.

There are a few things I’ve come to expect from Linda Holeman’s novels; one of them is an interesting and unusual historical setting. I know there must be other books set in 18th century Portugal, but this is the first I’ve read; it’s not a common choice for historical fiction and it made a refreshing change. There are some beautiful descriptions of Porto Santo, and later, of Madeira and Lisbon, and we are given insights into what life was like in each of these places. While the focus is on Diamantina’s personal story, it is played out against a historical background that feels well researched and believable. I particularly loved the vivid depiction of the earthquake that destroyed most of Lisbon in 1755.

Another thing I expect is a long, engrossing and emotional story – and that’s what I got from The Devil on her Tongue. But although Diamantina’s story is certainly very compelling, it’s also very sad; I couldn’t believe one person could experience so much misery and have so little luck in life. I felt so sorry for her but I also admired her resilience as she tried to build a new life for herself in the face of so much betrayal, disappointment and unhappiness. One aspect of Holeman’s novels I really like is the way they explore attitudes towards women in different time periods and cultures – in previous books we have seen how women were treated in 19th century India, Afghanistan and Russia, in 1930s Morocco, and now in a small community in Portugal during the 1700s.

I don’t think this is my favourite of Linda Holeman’s novels (that would probably be the book set in Morocco, The Saffron Gate) but it’s beautifully written and I did enjoy reading it, despite finding the story so sad.

Thank you to Traverse Press for providing a copy of this book for review.

Alias Grace by Margaret Atwood

Alias Grace This is only the second book I’ve read by Margaret Atwood. The first was The Handmaid’s Tale, which I read in December 2012 and loved; thinking about which one to read next, Alias Grace sounded the most appealing to me but it wasn’t until it was selected for my Ten From the TBR project last month that I actually got round to reading it.

Alias Grace is a work of fiction based on a true story: the story of Grace Marks, a woman sentenced to life imprisonment for murder in 1840s Canada. Grace (who was only sixteen at the time) and her alleged accomplice, James McDermott, were accused of the murders of their employer, Thomas Kinnear, and his housekeeper, Nancy Montgomery. Grace has been in the Kingston Penitentiary for fifteen years when Simon Jordan, a doctor with an interest in criminal behaviour, decides to visit her as part of his research.

Although Grace claims to have no memory of the murders, she does have plenty of other memories which she gradually shares with Dr Jordan: her childhood in Ireland, her journey across the Atlantic and arrival in Canada, her first job as a maid and her friendship with a girl called Mary Whitney – and finally, the time she spent in Kinnear’s household prior to the murders.

As Dr Jordan listens to her story unfold, he tries to make up his mind about Grace. Is she being completely honest with him? Is she really guilty of the crimes of which she has been accused? Margaret Atwood doesn’t offer any answers here; it is left up to the reader to decide – but proving Grace’s guilt or innocence is not really the point of this book. Grace’s life story is interesting in itself, giving us some insights into what it was like to be an Irish immigrant in the 19th century, and the novel also explores attitudes towards women and towards mental illness at that time.

Alias Grace is a fascinating blend of fact and fiction. Grace Marks really existed but although Atwood states in her author’s note that she has not changed any of the known facts regarding the murder case, there were enough gaps in the records to allow her to invent parts of the story. Simon Jordan is a fictional character, but his inclusion in the novel adds another perspective – and also another layer, because we can never be sure whether Grace is telling him the truth or just saying what she thinks he would like to hear. Hannah Kent uses a similar device in Burial Rites and as I read, I did keep being reminded of Burial Rites (although Alias Grace was published first, of course).

I loved Alias Grace, but it’s a very different type of book from The Handmaid’s Tale, which has made me curious about the rest of Margaret Atwood’s novels. Which one do you think I should read next?

The Hollow Hills by Mary Stewart

Hollow Hills I didn’t really intend to read The Hollow Hills last weekend. I have books on my library pile, review copies to catch up with, and books to read for various other projects, but something made me yearn for Mary Stewart and I picked up the second of her Arthurian novels on Saturday morning. I was immediately pulled into the story and had finished the book by Monday.

The Hollow Hills is part of a series of five books set in Arthurian Britain, although the first three are usually described as the Merlin Trilogy. The first book, The Crystal Cave, introduces us to Merlin and his world; The Hollow Hills continues the story, beginning just before the birth of Arthur. As the illegitimate son of Uther Pendragon and Ygraine of Cornwall, the young Arthur is sent into hiding, not only as protection against Uther’s enemies but also to keep him conveniently out of the way until another legitimate heir is born. But Merlin, with his gift of prophecy and visions, knows that it will be Arthur who will one day raise the legendary sword Caliburn from its resting place and become King.

Like The Crystal Cave, the story is narrated by Merlin himself and as Arthur is only a baby throughout much of the novel (and still only fourteen at the end) this book is more about Merlin than it is about Arthur. While Arthur is growing up in safety, ignorant of his true parentage, Merlin is having adventures of his own as he travels throughout Europe, takes on new identities, and explores the legends behind the great sword Caliburn (which until now I have always known as Excalibur). I loved the book from beginning to end and was never bored, but there is always the sense that the whole novel is building towards the moment when Arthur will learn who he really is and be ready to reclaim his heritage.

The plot means that Merlin and Arthur are kept apart for most of the novel, but I enjoyed the scenes that they do have together. I like the way Mary Stewart portrays both characters and the development of the bond between the two of them. It’s disappointing, though, that there are no strong female characters in this book: Ygraine only appears briefly and while Morgause (in this version Arthur’s half-sister) does have an important role in the story, she is hardly portrayed very flatteringly. Apart from that, I loved everything else about this book, and of course, it’s very well written with lots of beautiful, vivid descriptions. It’s Mary Stewart, after all!

While I don’t have a lot of knowledge of the Arthurian legends, I do know the basic details, so some parts of the story felt familiar to me – but even where I thought I knew what was going to happen, this didn’t lessen the enjoyment of the book for me. There is not just one version of the legend, of course, but lots of them which all differ slightly, and in her notes at the end of the book, Stewart explains some of the choices she has made. Some readers may be disappointed that there is so little actual ‘magic’ in this novel, but that’s one of the things I like about it; most of what happens has a rational explanation and there’s only a touch of the supernatural.

I think of the two books in this series that I’ve read so far, I did prefer The Crystal Cave, but only slightly, and I’m now looking forward to reading the next one, The Last Enchantment.

Godwine Kingmaker by Mercedes Rochelle

Godwine Kingmaker Earlier this year I read Mercedes Rochelle’s Heir to a Prophecy, a novel set in the 11th century and inspired by Shakespeare’s Macbeth. Her second book, Godwine Kingmaker: Part One of The Last Great Saxon Earls, is also set in Anglo-Saxon England – in the years leading up to the Norman Conquest – and tells the story of Godwine, Earl of Wessex.

Godwine, son of Wulfnoth, is only eighteen when he meets a Danish warrior in the woods and offers his assistance. This chance meeting will change the course of Godwine’s life, because the man he has befriended is Ulf, brother-in-law of Canute, King of Denmark. When Canute takes the throne of England after the death of Edmund Ironside in 1016, Godwine is by his side offering advice and support. During the years that follow he rises to become Earl of Wessex, one of the most powerful men in the kingdom, but Godwine’s good fortune will not last forever…

Godwine Kingmaker provides a fascinating portrayal of one of the last and greatest Saxon Earls. I have come across Godwine once or twice before in other novels set during this time period, but have never read about his life in so much depth. As the father of Harold, the future King of England, his historical significance is obvious, but he was also a very important nobleman in his own right. I thought he was a great character and I enjoyed following his story from his humble beginnings to the height of his power and influence.

One aspect of the story I found particularly interesting – and also quite frustrating – is the relationship between Godwine and Ulf’s sister, Gytha. Gytha very reluctantly becomes Godwine’s wife and for a long time after the marriage she persists in denying her feelings for him, even to herself. Although her behaviour annoyed me at times, I thought it was good that this storyline was not resolved too quickly and continued to have implications for several of the characters later in the book.

Godwine is an ambitious man but he is also a man who cares about his family and throughout the novel we see him working to ensure a safe and secure future for his children, even while his fortunes rise and fall as three more kings follow Canute. Despite Godwine’s best efforts, his eldest son, Swegn, stumbles from one disaster to another, but it is his second son, Harold, who will carry the family’s legacy forward.

Mercedes Rochelle is now working on the sequel to this book, The Sons of Godwine, which will tell the story of Harold Godwineson and his brothers. I’m looking forward to reading it!

Thanks to the author for providing a copy of Godwine Kingmaker for review.

The Invention of Fire by Bruce Holsinger

The Invention of Fire This is the second in Bruce Holsinger’s series of historical mystery/thrillers set in 14th century England. A Burnable Book introduced us to John Gower, poet and ‘trader in secrets’, and followed his search for a book of prophecies containing a treasonous prediction foretelling the King’s death. In The Invention of Fire we enter Gower’s world again as he attempts to solve a second mystery. It’s not necessary to have read A Burnable Book first, although I would recommend doing so; I read it last year and enjoyed it, so have been looking forward to this new one.

The Invention of Fire begins in the year 1386 when sixteen dead bodies are found in a London privy one night. The cause of death is not obvious at first, but it soon becomes clear that the men were killed by a weapon few people in England have seen or even heard of. John Gower’s mission is to investigate the murders – an investigation that will lead him on a journey into the Kent countryside with his friend, Geoffrey Chaucer, and then across the sea to Calais where he is reunited with a face from his past. But when it is revealed that some of England’s most powerful men are involved in the crime, Gower becomes aware of the danger his own life is in – and of the implications of the new weapon on the future of warfare.

John Gower is an interesting character to build these novels around. He is a person who really existed in the 14th century, but one who is not particularly well known today. This gives Holsinger scope to use his imagination and create some fascinating fictional storylines for the character, while at the same time incorporating the few facts that we do know about the real John Gower: for example, his work as a poet, his friendship with fellow poet Geoffrey Chaucer, and the fact that he became blind in later life.

I have seen the John Gower novels compared with CJ Sansom’s Shardlake series and there are definitely some similarities. This book reminded me very much of Sansom’s Dark Fire which I read earlier this year; the time period is completely different, of course, but the plot is quite similar and both deal with the discovery of a new weapon. I have to admit, the weaponry aspect of this book didn’t particularly interest me, and with everything that has been going on in the world recently it’s depressing to read about the invention of new ways to kill. I was more interested in Gower’s personal story – his relationship with his son, his efforts to cope with his gradual loss of sight, and his conversations with Chaucer, who is working on The Canterbury Tales.

I had hoped there would be a third book in this series, but Bruce Holsinger has said that his next novel will be a ‘transhistorical fantasy’. That sounds intriguing but I hope he might still return to John Gower in the future.

If You Go Away by Adele Parks

If You Go Away This is Adele Parks’ fifteenth novel but the first one I’ve read. Most of her others have contemporary settings and have never really appealed to me, but her most recent two are historical novels – Spare Brides, set in the 1920s, and this one, set during the First World War.

As the novel opens in March 1914, we meet Vivian Foster, a beautiful eighteen year old debutante who is enjoying the London season and not giving too much thought to rumours of war in Europe. Her main goal in life is to marry the rich, handsome Nathaniel Thorpe, but things don’t go according to plan and to avoid a scandal, Vivian is married off to Aubrey Owens, a man she doesn’t love. When war breaks out on their wedding day and Aubrey enlists as an officer in the army, Vivian finds herself living alone on his farm in the small village of Blackwell in Derbyshire.

The novel’s other main character is Howard Henderson, a talented and ambitious young playwright. Near the beginning of the war, Howard spends some time visiting the battlefields with a journalist friend and although he doesn’t take part in the fighting himself, he is shocked and appalled by what he witnesses. Returning to England he finds that he is under increasing pressure to enlist, but his experiences on the front line have left him convinced of the futility and barbarity of war. At a time when all fit and healthy young men are expected to go and fight for their country, Howard’s views make him very unpopular. When his path crosses with Vivian’s, a friendship begins to form and Howard must decide whether there are some things worth fighting for after all.

If You Go Away gets off to a slow start; I’m not sure that it was really necessary to spend so much time at the beginning giving us information on the backgrounds and personalities of our two main characters – I would have preferred to get to know them gradually through their words and actions. Once Vivian is in Blackwell and Howard is on his way to visit the trenches, though, the story really starts to pick up. While there is certainly a strong romantic element, this is more than just a love story – the scenes set in France and Belgium are vivid and dramatic, showing us the full horrors of war, while Vivian’s chapters also tackle other themes such as female friendships, unhappy marriages and the roles of women in society.

I disliked both Vivian and Howard at the start of the novel – particularly Vivian, who appeared to be very shallow and self-obsessed, interested only in money, clothes, parties and gossip. Fortunately, Vivian’s character does develop and change over the course of the novel and I eventually started to see another side to her. It seemed that being in the countryside away from the influence of her friends and family in London helps her to gain confidence and discover what is really important in life. As one of the village women tells her, “I do believe that one only earns the right to strong and cherished friendships once one has learnt to stand alone. You have to like yourself very much before you can expect others to”.

Through the characters of Vivian and Howard we see the changes that war brings to individuals, to communities and to the world. I have read a lot of other novels set during the Great War, but what makes this one different is that we are given the perspective of a conscientious objector. This is not an aspect of the war I’ve read about in any detail before and I found it fascinating. Because of the interesting questions and issues this novel raises, I found it a deeper and more thought-provoking read than I had expected it to be. There were one or two twists towards the end that I found difficult to believe, but I did enjoy this book and I hope Adele Parks will continue to write historical fiction as I think she does it very well.

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