The Thief of Time by John Boyne

The Thief of Time If you met Matthieu Zela for the first time you would probably think he was just a normal fifty-year-old man. You would be wrong. Matthieu Zela has been alive for more than two hundred and fifty years.

Born in Paris in 1743, he noticed at some point in the 1790s that he had simply stopped growing older and he has looked like a middle-aged man ever since. It’s now 1999 and his neverending existence still shows no sign of coming to an end. As he prepares to enter yet another new century, Matthieu looks back on his life so far (nineteen wives, a variety of different careers, and a series of nephews – nine generations of them – all called Thomas and all dying tragically young) and he discovers that maybe there is something he can do to break the cycle after all.

In The Thief of Time, two stories are told in parallel. One is set in the eighteenth century and follows the teenage Matthieu as he leaves home after losing both of his parents and sets off with his half-brother Tomas in search of a better life. As they board a ship to England, they meet Dominique Sauvet, the girl who will become Matthieu’s first love. The second main thread of the novel takes place in the present day (1999). Matthieu’s current nephew, Tommy – a descendant of Tomas – is an actor in a popular soap opera and is finding it difficult to cope with the pressures of fame. Worried about Tommy’s drug addiction, Matthieu (now a successful television executive) decides that even though he did nothing to help the previous generations of doomed Thomases, he won’t allow this one to die an early death.

Interspersed with these two storylines are a series of chapters looking at significant episodes in Matthieu’s life. During his two hundred and fifty-six years, he has witnessed some of the defining moments of the eighteenth, nineteenth and twentieth centuries including the French Revolution, the Wall Street Crash and the 1896 Olympics, and meets Charlie Chaplin, Pope Pius IX and President Herbert Hoover, to name just a few. I didn’t find it particularly believable that Matthieu could have been so closely involved with all of these famous people and events but as the whole book is based around the idea of a man who never ages I’m not going to worry too much about that!

The Thief of Time was John Boyne’s debut novel and, having read some of his later ones (This House is Haunted, Crippen and A History of Loneliness) this one really does feel like a first book. It’s such an interesting concept but there were too many flaws to make it a satisfying read. I think my biggest problem with the book was the structure; jumping from a chapter set in 1999 to one set in the 1700s and then another set during a random time period just didn’t work. The novel didn’t flow properly, there was no real character development and the historical chapters – which often felt irrelevant and did nothing to move the story forward – lacked a sense of time and place (there were also some historical inaccuracies, such as a mention of telegrams being sent during the French Revolution).

I was also disappointed that the reasons for Matthieu’s immortality are never explored – he never really questions how and why this is happening to him and the people around him don’t ever seem to notice anything unusual! I don’t think we are given a real explanation as to how he progressed from his first job as stable boy to a successful career in media either. There were some aspects of the book I liked, though: I enjoyed the Charlie Chaplin chapter and also the chapter set during the Great Exhibition of 1851, and while I didn’t particularly like Matthieu himself, I was interested in his television work and in his relationship with his latest nephew, Tommy.

If this had been my first John Boyne book I don’t think I would have wanted to read more, but as I loved the other three of his that I’ve read I will continue to work through the rest of his novels. I’m hoping for better luck with the next one I choose!

The Last Confession of Thomas Hawkins by Antonia Hodgson

The Last Confession of Thomas Hawkins It’s 1728 and Thomas Hawkins is being escorted through the streets of London towards the gallows at Tyburn. Although he has been found guilty of murder and sentenced to hang, Tom has been promised a pardon and is sure he will be freed. But as he gets closer and closer to the gallows and the pardon doesn’t come, he begins to lose hope. Could this be the end for Thomas Hawkins?

Antonia Hodgson’s debut novel The Devil in the Marshalsea was one of my favourite books of last year. I loved the setting (an eighteenth century debtors’ prison), I loved the entertaining plot, and I loved learning about life in Georgian London, so I was pleased to find that there was going to be a sequel. If you haven’t read the first book, though, that shouldn’t be a problem because The Last Confession of Thomas Hawkins can be read as a ‘standalone historical mystery’, as stated on the book cover. I would still recommend reading the two books in order as there are some minor spoilers in the second one, but it isn’t really necessary.

If you have read The Devil in the Marshalsea you will already have met Thomas Hawkins and will know what he experienced during his time in the notorious Marshalsea Prison. Sadly, as the sequel begins, it seems that Tom has forgotten the lessons he learned in the Marshalsea. He has started to build a new life for himself with Kitty Sparks, bookseller and print shop owner, but this is not enough for Tom and he has returned to his old habits of drinking, gambling and looking for adventure.

It’s not long before things start to spiral out of control again and this time Tom finds himself embroiled in the affairs of Queen Caroline and the king’s mistress, Henrietta Howard, as well as becoming a suspect in a murder investigation. Alternating between Tom’s journey to the gallows and the events leading up to his death sentence, Tom’s story – his ‘last confession’ – gradually unfolds.

This is another great book from Antonia Hodgson and I enjoyed it almost as much as the first. I say ‘almost’ because the fact that The Devil in the Marshalsea was set almost entirely within a debtors’ prison gave the first book a feeling of novelty and originality that this second one doesn’t have. That doesn’t mean I didn’t like the setting of this book too, of course. Hodgson’s portrayal of 1720s London is wonderful: a cockfight in a crowded tavern; a gang leader’s lair in a crumbling slum building; the beautifully furnished rooms of St James’s Palace – all of these are described in vivid detail.

Tom Hawkins, as our narrator, is the perfect character to guide us through Georgian London. His lifestyle means he is familiar with the darker side of society, but his family background makes him a gentleman and it is this combination that brings him to the attention of those who hope to use him for their own ends…including the clever, scheming Queen Caroline (a historical figure I’ve never read about until now). Tom is frustrating, flawed and a bit of a rogue, but he’s also a person you can’t help but like. I’m obviously not going to tell you whether or not he does escape the hangman’s noose, but what I will say is that Antonia Hodgson keeps us in suspense until the end. The final chapter gave me hope that there could be a third book in this series – but if you want to know whether Thomas Hawkins will survive that long, you’ll have to read The Last Confession to find out!

1066: What Fates Impose by G.K. Holloway

1066 1066 is one of the most famous dates in English history so you can probably guess what this book is about! I have read a few other books set in this period recently so when the author of 1066: What Fates Impose contacted me to offer me a copy for review, I was pleased to accept.

The novel closely follows the events leading up to the Battle of Hastings and the Norman Conquest. After a brief but dramatic prologue in which we see William the Conqueror on his deathbed in 1087, we move back several decades in time to Winchester in the year 1045 where we meet the family of Godwin, Earl of Wessex. It is Godwin’s son, Harold, of course, who will face William on the battlefield in 1066, but before we reach that point of the story there are twenty-one years of history to be covered and almost four hundred pages of novel to be read!

To fully understand what happened at Hastings, we need to understand the background to the conflict. G.K. Holloway takes us through many key moments including the death of Edward the Confessor, Harold’s handfast marriage to Edyth Swan-neck, the threats from the Welsh and the Vikings, and the fates of Harold’s brothers Sweyn and Tostig Godwinson. Along the way, we learn about the complex feuds and alliances between England’s noblemen and are given some insight into the situation in Normandy, where Duke William is preparing for invasion. We see how various characters plot, scheme and work hard to achieve their goals, only to find, in the end, that certain things are out of their control and that even the most careful plans can be thrown into disarray by what fates impose.

This is clearly a book that has been well researched and as far as I could tell (I can’t claim to be an expert on this subject) the story does stick closely to the known historical facts. Obviously there is a limit as to how much information is available on the 11th century so any author writing a fictional account of the period will need to use their imagination to fill in gaps and interpret the motivations and actions of the characters, but I think G.K. Holloway does this very well. Everything in the novel feels plausible and there was nothing that left me shaking my head and thinking “this would never have happened”.

The novel features a large and varied cast of characters, ranging from Godwin and his children to the ruling families of Mercia and Northumbria, Duke William and his fellow Normans, and an assortment of bishops and archbishops (most, though not all, of these people are listed at the beginning of the book, which was very helpful). Some felt more developed than others but sadly I didn’t really manage to form a strong emotional connection with any of them – although I did have a lot of sympathy for Harold as his story headed towards its inevitable end.

Because there is so much historical information packed into this novel, I think 1066: What Fates Impose could be a good introduction to the pre-Conquest years for readers who have little or no previous knowledge. A sequel covering the time between the Battle of Hastings and William’s death would be interesting, but meanwhile, having been left wanting to read more about this period I am now reading Gildenford by Valerie Anand, a book which has been recommended to me by several people recently.

Thanks to G.K. Holloway for providing a copy of this book.

Historical Musings #5: Books for younger readers

Historical Musings Historical fiction is my favourite genre, but that hasn’t always been the case. I only really started to read historical novels when I was in my late teens and at that age I was naturally drawn to books written for adults, which meant I missed out on most of the historical fiction available for younger readers.

I have been giving this a lot of thought and am surprised to find that I can only think of two historical fiction books I read as a child that were actually aimed at a young audience. The first is a book I remember reading at school: The Children of the New Forest, Frederick Marryat’s novel about four children orphaned during the English Civil War. It was published in 1847 and is thought to be one of the first historical novels written specifically for young readers. The only other book that has come to mind is Twist of Gold by Michael Morpurgo, the story of two children from Ireland who sail to America in search of their father during the Irish potato famine. I think I was about ten when I read it and all I can remember was that it made me cry!

Of course, just because I didn’t read a lot of historical fiction as a child doesn’t mean that there aren’t plenty of historical novels out there for children to read. Last week I read a great review by Yvonne of John Meade Falkner’s Moonfleet and I have found a whole list of other books for children and young adults at www.historicalnovels.info sorted by time period and location. I’m also aware that Rosemary Sutcliff wrote a lot of historical novels for children and although she’s not an author I’ve ever read, I do have one or two of her books on my shelf which I’m hoping to read soon.

Did you read any historical novels as a child or young adult? Which would you recommend? Do you think they can still be enjoyed by adult readers?

The Odd Women by George Gissing

George Gissing - The Odd Women Published in 1893, George Gissing’s novel is based around the idea that there were at least half a million more women than men in Victorian England. As one of the characters in the story, Rhoda Nunn, explains:

“So many odd women – no making a pair with them. The pessimists call them useless, lost, futile lives. I, naturally – being one of them myself – take another view.”

Rhoda believes that it is possible for these ‘odd’ (that is, unmarried) women to lead lives that are both happy and useful. In partnership with her friend, Mary Barfoot, she runs an establishment in London where young middle-class women can learn typing and other secretarial skills that will enable them to earn a living if they remain single. Rhoda herself is now in her thirties and has no intention of marrying, but when Miss Barfoot’s cousin Everard comes to visit she is tempted to change her mind.

The Odd Women is also the story of Rhoda’s friends, the Madden sisters, faced with having to support themselves after the death of their father. With so few career choices available to them, the two elder sisters, Alice and Virginia, find work as a governess and a paid companion, while dreaming of opening their own school one day – a dream that is unlikely to ever become a reality. The youngest Madden girl, Monica, is working long hours in a draper’s shop and her future looks no brighter than her sisters’…until she receives a marriage proposal from Edmund Widdowson, a retired clerk much older than herself. Aware that this could be the only opportunity she gets, Monica jumps into marriage with a man she knows she doesn’t love.

When I first started to read The Odd Women, it seemed that Alice and Virginia were going to be the main focus of the novel, but that turned out not to be the case. Instead, the two elder Madden sisters quickly move into the background and we focus almost solely on the alternating storylines of Rhoda and Monica. Through the character of Rhoda, Gissing explores the views of a woman determined to resist marriage and make her own way in life, and through Monica he looks at the fate of a woman who chooses to marry simply because she is afraid of what her life will become if she stays single.

This is a fascinating novel and for a book written in the 1890s it feels very modern. With themes including feminism, marriage and the roles of women, it’s not the sort of book you would usually expect from a male Victorian author. It reminded me very much of Alas, Poor Lady by Rachel Ferguson. Both books show how women in Victorian/Edwardian society tended to be poorly prepared for an unexpected change in circumstances and how few options were open to them when they found themselves in need of employment.

I found this novel very readable, although the long discussions between Rhoda and Mary Barfoot did become a bit tedious at times and often felt more like lectures on feminism than believable conversations between two people (and I was disappointed that, while being so open-minded regarding unmarried middle-class women, they didn’t have the same sympathy for working-class women). Other than that, I enjoyed The Odd Women much more than I thought I would – although enjoyed is maybe not the right word to use, as this is really quite a bleak story. I would like to read more of George Gissing’s books, starting with New Grub Street, I think.

Isabella by Colin Falconer

Isabella Isabella is only twelve years old when she comes to England as the wife of King Edward II. As the daughter of Philip IV of France, Isabella is no stranger to life at court and with her father’s parting words still fresh in her mind (“You will love this man. Do you understand? You will love him, serve him, and obey him in all things. This is your duty to me and to France…”) she knows what is expected of her. Nothing could have prepared her, however, for marriage to a man who cares more for his beloved friend, Piers Gaveston, than he does for his young wife, his reputation and his country.

As Isabella grows older she begins to fall in love with Edward, but when Gaveston is executed in 1312 and another favourite, Hugh Despenser, takes his place in the king’s life, she is forced to accept that her love will never be returned. Despenser repeatedly comes between Isabella and her husband, and eventually she finds herself with a choice to make: should she remain loyal to Edward or should she join forces with one of his noblemen, Roger Mortimer, in an attempt to remove him from his throne?

This fictional account of Isabella’s life is the first book I’ve read by Colin Falconer. I was vaguely aware of his name but knew nothing about any of his books or what I could expect from them, so I was pleased to find Isabella available on NetGalley. I have read about Isabella before (in the Edward II section of The Plantagenets by Dan Jones and in fictional form in Maurice Druon’s Accursed Kings series) and she seemed a fascinating woman, so I was looking forward to reading more.

I have to admit, I wasn’t very impressed with this book at the beginning. The combination of third person present tense, simple sentence structure and very short chapters wasn’t very appealing at all. I kept reading, though, and after a while either the writing improved or I got used to the style – I’m not sure which – and the story did start to become more gripping.

With the novel being written from Isabella’s perspective, she is the character we naturally sympathise with. While we can see that Edward truly loves Piers Gaveston, we can also share Isabella’s humiliation at the lack of respect he shows his wife and her frustration at his inability to rule the country effectively while Piers is around. Things become worse for Isabella when Hugh Despenser takes Gaveston’s place and she eventually begins an affair with Roger Mortimer. I was not convinced by Falconer’s portrayal of Isabella and Mortimer’s relationship, however; there was no chemistry between the two characters and Mortimer himself never came to life on the page.

Isabella is a very quick read and a light one, although not quite as light as I thought it would be at first. It would probably be a good introduction to Isabella’s life if you’ve never read anything about her before, as it does seem to follow the historical facts very closely; it was only the style of the writing that I had a problem with. I was sorry, though, that the novel doesn’t span the whole of Isabella’s life – only her marriage to Edward and the Mortimer rebellion are covered, with nothing of her later years or the reign of her son, Edward III. I was left wanting to know more about some of the people and events mentioned in the novel and am now reading She-Wolves by Helen Castor, a non-fiction book which explores the lives of several medieval queens, including Isabella.

I received a copy of Isabella for review via NetGalley.

The Vicomte de Bragelonne by Alexandre Dumas

The Vicomte de Bragelonne This is the third Dumas novel to feature d’Artagnan and his three friends, Athos, Porthos and Aramis. Originally published in serial form as part of a much longer book, it is now usually split into three volumes of which The Vicomte de Bragelonne is the first and Louise de la Vallière and The Man in the Iron Mask are the others. As Dumas is one of my favourite authors I was fully expecting to love this book – and I did, although it was not quite as satisfying as the first two d’Artagnan novels – The Three Musketeers and Twenty Years After.

The first thing to say about The Vicomte de Bragelonne is that it is not really about the Vicomte de Bragelonne! He does appear near the beginning and again near the end, but his role in the story is not really any more significant than any number of other characters. The next thing I should say is that any reader hoping to find the four friends working together again in the spirit of “all for one and one for all” will be disappointed; we do see quite a lot of Athos, but Porthos and Aramis only come into the story very briefly towards the end.

So, what is this book about, then? Well, possibly because this is only one section of a longer work, it’s difficult to give a summary of the plot. The first half of the novel concentrates mainly on d’Artagnan and Athos who are working on two separate schemes both designed to restore Charles II to the throne of England. History tells us that the restoration would be accomplished – though not quite in the way described in this book, which is much more fun than what actually happened!

Later in the book we learn that Aramis and Porthos seem to be helping the Superintendent of Finances, Monsieur Fouquet, to build fortifications on the island of Belle-Île. We don’t find out exactly what they are up to, however, and this part of the story is left shrouded in mystery, presumably to be developed in the next two novels. Finally, there’s the storyline involving the title character, Raoul (the Vicomte), and his love for Louise de la Vallière.

The gaps between these three subplots are filled with lots of chapters detailing the political situation in France in the 1660s (particularly the death of Cardinal Mazarin and the rivalry between Fouquet and Louis XIV’s new Minister of Finance, Colbert) and the romantic intrigues of the French court (revolving around the King’s marriage and also his brother’s marriage to Charles II’s sister, Henrietta). All of this makes The Vicomte de Bragelonne a heavier, slower read than the previous two novels, but I didn’t find it boring at all – I love the way Dumas writes and I love French history, so I didn’t really mind the fact that there was less swashbuckling action and that we don’t see as much of d’Artagnan’s friends.

Of course, where history (or even geography) is concerned it can’t always be assumed that everything in a Dumas novel is completely accurate. I was amazed to find that in Dumas’ world the city of Newcastle had suddenly been transported from the River Tyne to the banks of the River Tweed sixty miles to the north! Dumas also tends to change dates or rearrange the sequence of events whenever the story calls for it as well, though I’m sure I wouldn’t have even noticed most of these alterations if I hadn’t been referring to the notes at the back of the book. I’m pleased to say, by the way, that the notes in the Oxford World’s Classics edition didn’t spoil any of the story – although I avoided the introduction just in case.

As The Vicomte de Bragelonne doesn’t stand alone as a complete novel and wasn’t originally intended to, there are a lot of things left unresolved at the end of the book, as you would expect. I’m looking forward to continuing the story soon with Louise de la Vallière!