The Unicorn Hunt by Dorothy Dunnett

The Unicorn Hunt is the fifth book in the eight-volume House of Niccolò series which follows the adventures of former dyer’s apprentice Nicholas de Fleury (also known as Nicholas vander Poele or Niccolò) now a successful banker and merchant. I loved all of the previous four books – although it took me a while to really get into the first one, possibly because I read it too soon after finishing the Lymond Chronicles and couldn’t avoid making comparisons – but I think this one has just become my favourite of the series so far, surpassing even the brilliant Scales of Gold.

A warning before I go any further: as followers of my blog will know, I usually make an effort to avoid spoilers in my posts, but I think it’s going to be almost impossible to discuss the fifth book in a series without spoiling anything. Unless you’ve already read the first four instalments, I would suggest starting at the beginning with Niccolò Rising and not reading the rest of this post until you’ve caught up.

In The Unicorn Hunt Nicholas is searching for two things: the gold which was stolen from his ship in the previous book and a child that may or may not be his. The search for both will send Nicholas and his companions on a journey across Europe and North Africa – but before the hunt begins, we are taken to Scotland where Nicholas is setting some elaborate schemes in motion.

Scotland, I suppose, may be a less exotic setting than the Black Sea port of Trebizond, the island of Cyprus or the African city of Timbuktu – but much as I’ve enjoyed learning about the places Nicholas and his entourage have visited in the previous books, it was good to be back on more familiar territory and in one of the few Dunnett locations I have actually visited many times! Later in the book the action returns to Bruges and Venice, incorporating trips to Cairo and Alexandria, the mountains of the Tyrol, and another brief visit to Cyprus, though for once I think I would have preferred the whole book to have been set in one place – after leaving Scotland I thought the story suffered slightly from the lack of geographical focus. There also seemed to be less focus on trade and business in this book than in the others; instead, the driving force of the plot is the conflict between Nicholas and his wife, Gelis.

I think this is the only series I’ve ever read where I feel I’m understanding the main character less with every book rather than more! The warmth and sense of fun he often displayed in the earlier novels is almost completely gone now, which is understandable considering some of the things he has gone through, but even so Dunnett really made me dislike Nicholas in this book, especially in the first half. I couldn’t help comparing his behaviour to Lymond’s in The Ringed Castle – both of them seem to deal with their pain by cutting themselves off emotionally from the people around them and the way Nicholas’s men were trying to keep him away from Scotland reminded me of the way Lymond’s friends were reluctant to let him return to Russia. Anyway, I’m fortunately not a reader who needs to like the characters to be able to enjoy a book – and Nicholas is still as complex and fascinating as ever, even if not very likeable at the moment, so we’ll see how I feel about him in the next book, To Lie with Lions.

Dunnett really excels at writing exciting set pieces and there were some great ones in The Unicorn Hunt, including a dramatic fight at the salt-pans in Scotland and a confrontation during an ascent of Mount Sinai (there were lots of ascents and descents of various types in this book, I noticed). But as usual, in what is otherwise a very dark book, the drama is balanced by some delightfully funny scenes – one involving a parrot, a mirror and a hat, and another with a gum-covered kite and a priest’s beard. The introduction of Anselm Adorne’s niece, Katelijne Sersanders (Kathi), also helps to lighten the mood and I think she’s part of the reason I enjoyed this book so much.

I did have one small problem with this book and that was the fact that we are asked to believe that Nicholas is now a diviner and has the ability to find people and objects by divining. I’m still not sure how I feel about this; I don’t really mind Dunnett adding a paranormal angle to the story (the Dame de Doubtance and her prophecies in the Lymond Chronicles didn’t bother me too much, for example) but I do prefer to see Nicholas solving problems using his own intelligence and powers of logic and reasoning, rather than using what appear to be magical abilities. It just seemed a bit too convenient that he suddenly discovers he is able to use divination to find things in a book where ‘finding things’ is the central plot point.

And hunting, as the title suggests, is a major theme of this book. The dowsing and divining are linked to this, but there are also lots of other ways in which hunting is incorporated into the story: hunting with hounds in Scotland, hunting chamois in the Tyrol, hunting for the stolen gold, and of course, hunting for the baby. The unicorn of the title and who or what it refers to could also be interpreted in several different ways. Like the unicorn, which is a mythical beast, for most of the novel we are never quite sure whether or not the existence of the child is also a myth and I thought it was wonderful that Dunnett was able to keep the reader in suspense so masterfully right until the very end of the book.

For a very different view of The Unicorn Hunt, see Leander’s post from a few weeks ago. I think it’s interesting that each individual reader can have different favourites and least favourites while still agreeing on the overall quality of the series.

The Prisoner of Zenda by Anthony Hope

At the beginning of The Prisoner of Zenda, twenty-nine-year-old English gentleman Rudolf Rassendyll is leading a quiet, comfortable life in London, not working or doing anything at all, to the annoyance of his sister-in-law, Rose. To keep her happy, Rudolf agrees to accept a position working for the ambassador Sir Jacob Borrodaile, but finding himself with some free time before he starts his new job, he decides to visit the small European country of Ruritania to see the coronation of their new King.

Ruritania is almost, but not quite, a fantasy world. You won’t find it on a map – it’s a fictitious kingdom located somewhere in central Europe – and although there are no magical creatures, wizards, monsters or dragons, it is still a place where strange and unexpected things can and do happen. Soon after arriving there, Rassendyll meets his exact double – the man who is about to be crowned King of Ruritania, whose name also happens to be Rudolf. The likeness is explained by the fact that the two Rudolfs are distant cousins and both have the long, sharp, straight nose and dark-red hair that appear every few generations.

On the eve of his coronation, the King is drugged by his villainous half-brother, Black Michael, the Duke of Strelsau, who is hoping to steal both the King’s throne and the woman he is going to marry, the beautiful Princess Flavia. With the King unconscious and unable to appear at the coronation, his attendants persuade Rassendyll to impersonate the King at the ceremony. The coronation goes ahead as planned, but Rudolf’s impersonation doesn’t end there – the real King has been kidnapped and imprisoned in a castle in the town of Zenda. Rassendyll must continue to take his place until he is rescued, but things become more and more dangerous for Rudolf as he finds himself caught in the plots and schemes of Black Michael and his henchman Rupert of Hentzau. And as if life wasn’t already complicated enough, he also begins to fall in love with Princess Flavia…

I put this book on my list for the Classics Club, intending to read it at some point in the next few years, but I didn’t really know what it was about and was in no hurry to get to it. Then I read Lisa’s review and it sounded so exactly like the kind of book I would love that I was inspired to move it straight to the top of my list. Having somehow managed to go through life without seeing any of the film versions, I didn’t know anything about the plot, though as I read the book parts of it did feel familiar, maybe because it has been the inspiration for so many other adventure stories.

The Prisoner of Zenda was written near the end of the Victorian period, in 1894, though I found it a lot lighter and easier to read than most Victorian novels. It’s also a very short novel (only around 200 pages in the edition I read) but the kingdom of Ruritania, with its woods, castles and palaces, and the people who inhabit it are well developed and unforgettable. One of my favourite characters was Rupert, so I was pleased to discover there is a sequel, Rupert of Hentzau, which I’m looking forward to reading.

“One of the great swashbucklers” it says on the cover of the Penguin Classics edition of this book, and I would agree, although I did prefer Scaramouche by Rafael Sabatini and The Scarlet Pimpernel by Baroness Orczy, both of which I read this year and loved. 2012 seems to be turning into the year of the swashbuckler for me, doesn’t it? I did still enjoy this one though; it was entertaining, fast-paced and a lot of fun to read. I recommend saving it for a dull, dreary afternoon when you want nothing more than to be whisked away to a world of action, adventure, kings, princesses, evil brothers, mistaken identities, swordfights, romance, castles, kidnappings and daring escapes!

After the Sunday Papers #10

“She had read novels while other people perused the Sunday papers”
~ Mary Elizabeth Braddon,
The Doctor’s Wife

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I can’t believe it’s been nearly two years since my last After the Sunday Papers post! I had intended it to be a weekly feature, looking back on the previous week and forward to the week ahead, but obviously it didn’t work out like that. Today, not having any reviews ready to post and wanting to mention a few book-related events, I decided to revive my Sunday posts and hopefully can make them a more regular feature, if not a weekly one.

Giveaway Blog Hop success!

I was lucky enough to win two books in the recent Literary Giveaway Blog Hop and I received both of them this week. Thanks to Heavenali for the beautiful Penguin English Library edition of Far from the Madding Crowd by Thomas Hardy and thanks to The Little Reader Library for The Long Song by Andrea Levy – both books I’ve been wanting to read for a long time.

Lymond is back

Annabel of Gaskella is hosting a readalong of The Game of Kings, the first of Dorothy Dunnett’s Lymond Chronicles. As I’m currently immersed in Dunnett’s other series, The House of Niccolo, I won’t be officially taking part, but to anyone who has been thinking about reading the Lymond Chronicles this could be a good time to start. Annabel has even made a bookmark with the character list, which should be very useful!

Advent with Atwood

Following the success of last year’s Advent with Austen, this year Yvann, Alex, Iris and Ana will be co-hosting Advent with Atwood. The event includes a readalong of The Blind Assassin, but participants can read any book by Margaret Atwood during the month of December. I would like to join in as I’ve never read anything by Atwood before and she’s an author I’ve been meaning to read for years. I have no idea which of her books to start with, so any suggestions are welcome.

That’s all for now – hope you all have a good week!

The Queen’s Confidante by Karen Harper

One of the things I like about Karen Harper’s books is the fact that although she writes about a period of history that has been covered many times before – the Tudor and Elizabethan era – she manages to find new and original ways to approach the subject. The first book I read by Harper, The Queen’s Governess, told the story of Kat Ashley, who was governess to Elizabeth I and an important part of the Queen’s life, but who is usually reduced to just a brief mention in other historical novels. Her next book, Shakespeare’s Mistress, was the story of Anne Whateley (probably a fictitious character) and her relationship with William Shakespeare. This latest novel, The Queen’s Confidante, is set in 1501 and follows the adventures of a young woman with her own candle making business who becomes embroiled in two historical mysteries.

Her name is Varina Westcott and she’s a candlemaker who specialises in making angel-shaped candles for funerals and who also has a talent for carving wax likenesses of real people. When Queen Elizabeth of York, wife to Henry VII, hears about Varina she secretly commissions her to make effigies of her dead children and also of her two younger brothers, the Princes in the Tower, who it is rumoured were murdered by Richard III. Elizabeth has always wanted to learn the truth behind the disappearance of her brothers, but if she delves too deeply into the mystery will she discover something she would rather not know?

Meanwhile, Elizabeth and Henry’s eldest son, Prince Arthur, has just married the Spanish princess, Catherine of Aragon. When Arthur dies suddenly of a mysterious illness, Elizabeth asks Varina to investigate on her behalf. Varina has lost a child of her own so she understands the Queen’s suffering and agrees to help. She is joined in her investigations by Nick Sutton, a courtier whose family fought against Henry VII at the Battle of Bosworth and who is now trying to prove his loyalty to the new King.

The story is told in two alternating narratives, Varina’s and the Queen’s, though Varina’s forms the largest part of the book. I could see why it was necessary to have the Queen narrate some of the story because it allowed us to see things from another viewpoint and filled in some information that Varina did not have access to, but I think I would have preferred to stay with Varina for the whole book as I thought her character was better written than Elizabeth’s. I particularly enjoyed learning about Varina’s work as a candlemaker in the early 1500s. As a woman, Varina is not allowed to join the Worshipful Guild of Wax Chandlers and although she owns her own business, she is at the mercy of decisions made by men – she is even prevented from selling her beautiful angel candles until the guild members decide how to price and distribute them. Yet another example of how frustrating and difficult it must have been for a woman trying to make an independent living for herself in the 16th century!

The theory Harper suggests which explains the mystery of the Princes in the Tower was satisfactory enough. Considering nobody knows what actually happened or who was responsible for the disappearances, I found it no less believable than any other I’ve read. But the book’s other mystery, the death of Prince Arthur, is something I don’t know as much about – I’ve never given any thought to whether he could have been murdered and have always assumed he died of natural causes. Nothing I read in this book did anything to convince me that Arthur really had been murdered, though it was interesting to read Karen Harper’s comments on this in her author’s note.

I’ve enjoyed all three of the books I’ve read by Harper, but this one is my least favourite. I just found it too hard to accept the idea of the Queen of England asking a candlemaker to act as an undercover detective. Also, as someone who believes Richard III has been unfairly treated by history, I didn’t like the fact that he and his supporters are viewed as villains by most of the characters in the story and this meant I enjoyed the book less than I might otherwise have done. I admit that I’m biased though, and this probably wouldn’t be a problem at all for readers less familiar with the period than I am and who haven’t already formed their own opinions of the historical figures involved!

Note: The US title of this book is Mistress of Mourning.

A Farewell to Arms by Ernest Hemingway

I’ve never read anything by Ernest Hemingway before, partly because he’s one of those classic authors I’ve always felt intimidated by, but when I was offered a review copy of this beautiful new hardback edition of A Farewell to Arms (with a cover image replicating the original 1929 cover and lots of additional material) it seemed a perfect opportunity to give one of his books a try.

A Farewell to Arms is narrated by Frederic Henry, an American ambulance driver who is serving as a Lieutenant (or ‘Tenente’) in the Italian army during the Italian Campaign of World War I. Early in the story he meets a British nurse, Catherine Barkley. When Henry is injured by a mortar shell he has to spend some time in hospital and during this period his relationship with Catherine develops. What will happen when it’s time for him to return to the front? Part love story, part war story, this novel is based on Ernest Hemingway’s own experiences in the Italian ambulance corps where, like Henry, he was injured and fell in love with one of the nurses at the hospital. The fact that the story is semi-autobiographical gives it a realistic, unsentimental feel.

Hemingway’s writing style is very simple and direct, he gets straight to the point and avoids flowery language and long, detailed descriptions (though he still manages to choose just the right words to evoke the settings he is writing about). You might think that such plain, simple prose would be easy to read but for me, the opposite was true; it was distracting and it took me a long time to get used to it. Some passages are written in an almost stream-of-consciousness style, which is something I often struggle with, and there are also lots of very long sentences consisting of a string of short clauses all joined together by the word ‘and’. His writing is very distinctive and you’ll either like it or you won’t.

Hemingway rarely tells us anything that is not completely essential to the plot and so I finished the book feeling that I never really got to know either Henry or Catherine – neither of them are described in any great detail, we are only given very basic information about their backgrounds, and we aren’t even told the narrator’s name until several chapters into the book. Instead it is left to us to read between the lines, work things out for ourselves and use our imagination, and I think it’s intentional that we are told so little about the lives of Catherine and Henry before the war. However, the fact that the characters were not fully fleshed out meant that Catherine in particular didn’t feel like a real three-dimensional person; I liked her, but seen through Henry’s eyes she was very sweet and submissive, and it would have been nice to have had more insight into her personality.

Frederic Henry’s narrative style is detached and factual, almost as if things are happening at a distance and as if he sometimes feels very disconnected from the events going on around him. This works though, because it helps to portray the futility and harsh reality of war, and it reflects the way Henry feels; he is a person who has seen so many terrible things they no longer have such an emotional effect on him. The problem with the combination of terse writing style and detached narrative voice is that it made it hard for me to form any kind of emotional attachment to the characters, but the story was still quite poignant and moving in places, especially the final chapter.

Apparently Hemingway wrote the ending of the book thirty-nine times before he was satisfied with it. This new edition of the book includes an appendix with the text of all thirty-nine different endings. I read some of them, though not all (I think this type of supplementary material might be of more interest to someone who is studying Hemingway or considers themselves a fan of his work rather than to a first-time reader like myself) and although I did like some of the alternate endings, in my opinion the one he finally settled on was probably the right choice. I had tears in my eyes at the end and I’ve always thought that if an author can make me cry he or she must have done something right!

I’m not sure if I’ll want to read more Hemingway novels in the future but I’m glad I’ve had the chance to try this one and have now had some experience of an author I had heard so much about.

Thanks to William Heinemann for the review copy of A Farewell to Arms

Double, Double, Toil and Trouble!

Earlier this year I re-read Macbeth as part of a Shakespeare reading challenge, but never got round to actually posting about it. And so, in honour of Halloween I decided to share ten of my favourite quotes from the play. Enjoy!

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“Tis safer to be that which we destroy, Than by destruction dwell in doubtful joy”

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“I have no spur
To prick the sides of my intent, but only
Vaulting ambition, which o’erleaps itself
And falls on the other.”

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“Stars, hide your fires; Let not light see my black and deep desires.”

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“Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.”

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“Give sorrow words; the grief that does not speak whispers the o’er-fraught heart, and bids it break.”

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“Come, you spirits
That tend on mortal thoughts! Unsex me here,
And fill me from the crown to the toe top full
Of direst cruelty; make thick my blood,
Stop up the access and passage to remorse,
That no compunctious visitings of nature
Shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between
The effect and it!”

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“By the pricking of my thumbs, Something wicked this way comes.”

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“Away, and mock the time with fairest show:
False face must hide what the false heart doth know.”

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“Come what come may, time and the hour run through the roughest day.”

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“Double, double, toil and trouble;
Fire burn and cauldron bubble!”

The Oracle Glass by Judith Merkle Riley

Set in Paris during the reign of Louis XIV, The Oracle Glass combines historical fiction with the supernatural to tell the story of Genevieve Pasquier and her involvement in one of the darkest episodes in French history, the Affair of the Poisons.

When her father and grandmother die under suspicious circumstances, fifteen-year-old Genevieve runs away from home and is rescued by the notorious witch, La Voisin. From an early age Genevieve has had the ability to read people’s fortunes by looking into water, and with La Voisin’s help she transforms herself into the mysterious Marquise de Morville, a fortune-teller who claims to be one hundred and fifty years old. Genevieve plans to use her powers to achieve two goals – to make the handsome Andre Lamotte fall in love with her, and to take revenge on the people who have wronged her in the past. But as she becomes more involved in the intrigues of the Sun King’s court, she begins to learn that she has stumbled into a dangerous world of magic and murder and that La Voisin, the Shadow Queen, is at the centre of a circle of witches, poisoners and abortionists.

The Oracle Glass was a wonderful, magical read. After a slow start, I soon began to look forward to picking up the book and escaping for a while into Judith Merkle Riley’s recreation of 17th century Paris. Not knowing anything about this period of history, I was surprised to discover that many of the characters I’d assumed were fictional were actually real people: Madame de Montespan, for example, the King’s mistress who frequently visits the Marquise de Morville to have her fortune told, La Reynie, chief of the Paris police, and the sorceress La Voisin herself. A lot of the events described in the story, including the eventual fates of some of the characters, were also true and in a way, I’m glad I didn’t know anything about these people as it meant I never had any idea what was going to happen next.

Genevieve, or the Marquise de Morville, is a wonderful character with a warm and engaging narrative voice and through her eyes we are shown how difficult life could be for a young single woman trying to make an independent living for herself in the 17th century. What makes her such an interesting character is that she is so flawed; she makes mistakes, does things that are wrong or stupid, and although she is intelligent she can also be very naïve.

There’s no real attempt to make the dialogue sound authentic – and Genevieve’s narrative voice sometimes feels very modern – but although this often irritates me in other books, I think there’s a certain type of historical fiction where it doesn’t matter too much and this is an example of that type: a book designed to be fun and entertaining, with plenty of humour to offset the darker themes. And yet the depiction of Paris in the 1600s does still feel vivid and real; I loved the descriptions of carriage rides through the snow-covered streets and the court of Louis XIV, the Sun King, is also very well portrayed. My only criticism is that at over five hundred pages I really don’t think the book needed to be quite so long and there were a few sections, especially in the middle, that seemed to drag.

Judith Merkle Riley is an author I’ve heard about but have never had the opportunity to read until now – I believe some of her books have been out of print for a long time but I’m glad to have finally had the chance to read The Oracle Glass and would certainly be interested in reading her other novels after enjoying this one so much!

I received a copy of The Oracle Glass through Netgalley courtesy of Sourcebooks