Little Spark by Jess Kidd

A new Jess Kidd book is always something to look forward to and this year we’ve had two of them: first, Murder at the Spirit Lounge, the second book in the Nora Breen Investigates series, and now Little Spark, a standalone novel set in Victorian England.

Little Spark is the story of Bodkin Bell, a young woman with the unusual ability to generate powerful currents of electricity within her body. Bodkin has no idea why she has this particular skill – or curse, as it often seems to be. In fact, she knows very little about herself at all, except that she’s an orphan who has been taken under the wing of Cornelius Bell, a travelling showman. Cornelius has taught Bodkin how to pick pockets and use her wits to survive and together they travel the country with a sideshow act so Bodkin can perform as ‘Little Spark’. One day, however, things go wrong and Bodkin finds herself arrested.

Separated from Cornelius, her only friend, Bodkin begins to serve a prison sentence until she is rescued by Lady Hesperia Haseley who is making a charitable visit to the prison and takes a liking to her. Bodkin is offered a position as a servant at Point Mote, the Haseley estate, but once she arrives at her new home, she begins to wonder whether Lady Hesperia may have had another motive for bringing her there.

Point Mote is a neglected, crumbling mansion situated in the Kent marshlands, an appropriately atmospheric setting for a novel like this one. The former owner, Spendlove Haseley, was an inventor of automata, and his work is being continued after his death by his son, Ramshaw. Almost the first thing Bodkin sees when she enters the house is a disembodied mechanical hand stirring a pot of stew in the kitchen – and there are other machines and devices like this all over the house and its grounds. I was reminded of Anna Mazzola’s The Clockwork Girl, another dark historical novel about a creator of automata, although the settings and plots are quite different. Bodkin’s new job is to assist Ramshaw with his inventions and as she does so, she makes some discoveries about her employer, his family and herself.

Bodkin herself is an engaging heroine and although I’d expected more focus on her strange powers, it was interesting to watch her trying to solve the various mysteries of Point Mote with the help (or hindrance) of its other inhabitants, the usual cast of colourful characters you would expect to find in a Kidd novel. I was particularly intrigued by the two maids, sisters Coralie and Claudine, who have each lost an eye, one on the left and one on the right, although they won’t say exactly how it happened. There’s also Huffkin the dog, who may or may not be real! It’s such a fascinating, imaginative story; my only criticism is that I guessed the twists too easily – one in particular is a twist I’ve come across in several other books. Still, I found this a very enjoyable, entertaining novel, probably my favourite by Jess Kidd since Things in Jars.

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

The Scandalous Ladies Football Club by Frances Quinn

Published earlier this month to coincide with the World Cup (congratulations to Spain on their win), Frances Quinn’s latest novel is set in the final years of the 19th century and inspired by the formation of the British Ladies’ Football Club. Having loved her two previous books, The Lost Passenger and That Bonesetter Woman, I was hoping for good things from this one and wasn’t disappointed. Despite not being very interested in football (soccer to my blog readers in other parts of the world!) I found this a fascinating, inspirational story.

It’s 1897 and in a world dominated by men, where husbands and fathers make all the rules, the idea of women playing football is considered ridiculous and inappropriate. But when schoolteacher Minnie Newton kicks a ball back to a group of men playing in a London park one day, she’s reminded of how much she enjoyed the game as a child. Minnie places an advertisement in the local newspaper, not sure what kind of response there’ll be, and is thrilled when she receives several replies from interested applicants. However, as the group of women gather on Saturday morning for their first session, it quickly becomes obvious that this isn’t going to be easy. Most of the women have never even watched the sport before, let alone kicked a ball – then there’s the question of what to wear (long skirts are hardly suitable) and the problem of finding somewhere to train. Eventually, though, solutions are found, and soon the club has obtained both a patron – the explorer, writer and women’s rights activist, Lady Veronica Montague – and a coach, retired male footballer Bill English.

The novel focuses on three of the lady footballers. The first is obviously Minnie herself as the club’s founder and leader. The second is Grace Mousel, a shy single woman who lives with her father and spends her days catering to his every whim. Grace discovers that she has a real talent for football but feels that she has to keep her new passion hidden from her father, as he would never understand and would insist that she give it up. Then there’s Harriet Flinders, a married woman whose husband, Richard, is stationed in India, leaving her alone in London with their two sons. Bored and dissatisfied with her marriage, Harriet decides to join Minnie’s club purely because she knows it would annoy Richard if he found out but, like Grace, she soon finds that playing football is something she enjoys both for its own sake and for the independence it gives her.

As for Minnie, we know from the beginning that she’s hiding a big secret – her real name is Adela Adams and she’s a married woman, a fact that would cause her to lose her job as a teacher if it became known. Although I felt that the false identity subplot was recycled from Quinn’s last book, The Lost Passenger, it added tension to her story just as it did to Elinor’s in that book, and we find out only gradually why Adela left her husband and changed her name and what she stands to lose if she’s caught.

Quinn has loosely based the novel on the story of the real life British Ladies’ Football Club, but doesn’t stick very closely to the facts, changing the names of the people involved and imagining matches and rivalries that the club never actually had. There are some similarities, though – the real founder of the club was Nettie Honeyball which, like Minnie Newton, was thought to be an assumed name (although Nettie’s true identity is still unconfirmed); their patron, Lady Florence Dixie, closely resembled Lady Veronica in the book (she explored Patagonia and kept a pet jaguar called Affums); and of course, both clubs, real and fictional, faced a huge amount of prejudice, scorn and ridicule.

Although I found the book very enjoyable, it’s not perfect. In particular, I wished more attention had been given to other members of the club, not just Minnie, Harriet and Grace. Some of them were barely even mentioned by name. Also, without wanting to give away spoilers, I felt that the way the story ended for two of the characters seemed very convenient and clichéd. Other than that, I loved it. It’s obviously a book with a lot to say about feminism, equality and women’s rights, but the message never gets in the way of the story. Definitely worth reading, whether or not you’re a football fan!

Thanks to Simon & Schuster UK for providing a copy of this book for review via NetGalley.

Book 9/20 of 20 Books of Summer

The Witch’s Stone by Kirsty Ferry

Jess Morgan is a genealogist and historical researcher who has returned to the area of Northumberland where she grew up to work on a new project looking into the history of a ruined chapel. There are plans to make it part of a Heritage Trail for tourists, so some interesting facts about the site are needed. Reacquainted with an old school friend, Nate, who is managing the project for the heritage group, Jess begins investigating the chapel’s past and discovers links with an ancient stone known as Isabel’s Stone – or the Witch’s Stone – and a woman called Eliza who is buried in the chapel graveyard.

A second thread of the novel is set in 1888 and follows Eliza, the twenty-two-year-old daughter of Lord and Lady Stratford of Stratford Chase. Eliza is recovering from an accident she suffered several months earlier which left her with damage to her spine and unable to remember what happened. All she knows is that Lucian Ashcombe, the man she loves, was somehow involved and was sent away, forbidden to see her again. But now Lucian has returned – and so has another man, Benedict Rochford, her intended husband. Can she trust either of them? If only her memories would come back!

Jess and Eliza are linked by a third woman: Isabel, the witch, whom it’s said can be summoned by running three times around her stone. I was interested to read at the end of the book that Kirsty Ferry was inspired by a brief record in an old book of a witch with an evil eye and a sinister cat who lived in a cottage near Brinkburn Abbey. Ferry’s portrayal of Isabel, the Brinkburn Witch, is much more sympathetic; she appears to the protagonists in times of need, tying the two storylines together. The two narratives merge further when Jess, who is staying in a room at Eliza’s old home, Stratford Chase, now converted into a hotel, begins to slip between past and present, and when Nate discovers an old hunting knife which seems to wield a strange power over him.

There are some supernatural elements, then, but they never completely dominate the novel; the focus is on the personal stories of the characters with Jess researching the history of the chapel and trying to rebuild her life after her recent divorce and Eliza struggling with her amnesia and looking for a way out of the marriage her parents and brother have planned for her. I was much more interested in Eliza’s story at first as it was where all the drama was taking place, but later in the book the two threads come together so well that it’s hard to separate one from the other. Not everyone in the story gets a happy ending, but that’s reality and I still found the final chapter very satisfying. I also loved the setting – not enough books are set in Northumberland! The fictional Stratford Chase and the ruined chapel are located in the Simonside Hills near Rothbury and the author describes the landscape beautifully.

This is the first Kirsty Ferry book I’ve read; she has written a large number of others and I’m not sure if any of them appeal to me, but I’ll certainly be looking out for The Snow Witch, due to be published later this year!

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

Lady Audley’s Secret by Mary Elizabeth Braddon (re-read)

I hadn’t been planning a re-read of this book, but when FictionFan announced a review-along I couldn’t resist joining in. I’m not sure exactly when I first read it, but it must have been around twenty years ago when I went through a phase of reading Victorian sensation novels (if you’re not familiar with the term, the sensation novel was a popular genre of 19th century fiction featuring shocking crimes in ordinary domestic settings). This is one that I particularly enjoyed so I was happy to read it again and am looking forward to reading the other review-along participants’ reviews to see what everyone else thought!

Lady Audley’s Secret was published in 1862 and was Mary Elizabeth Braddon’s most successful novel, although she wrote more than eighty others, as well as some short stories. The first thing I discovered when I started to re-read it is that I could barely remember anything at all about it, so it was almost like experiencing it for the first time again.

The novel opens with the marriage of Sir Michael Audley and Lucy Graham. Lucy is young and beautiful and Sir Michael, a middle-aged widower, is enchanted by his new wife. Little is known about her past before she arrived in the village as governess to the local doctor’s children, but Sir Michael doesn’t care – Lucy’s happiness is all that matters to him. Meanwhile, his nephew, Robert Audley, has just been reacquainted with his old friend George Talboys, who has been in Australia for three years. George, who had found himself struggling financially, had left his wife, Helen, in England while he went off to improve his fortunes. Now that he’s returned, he’s looking forward to seeing her again and is heartbroken when he discovers that she has died during his absence.

Robert does his best to comfort his friend and brings him to Audley Court to meet Sir Michael, hoping it will help to take his mind off things. However, when George disappears without explanation, Robert begins to grow suspicious of his uncle’s new wife. Convinced that George has been murdered and that the new Lady Audley is implicated, Robert begins to investigate her past and is shocked by what he discovers.

I won’t discuss the plot in any more detail as I don’t want to give too much away, but all the typical elements of a sensation novel are here: murder, arson, family secrets, stolen letters, faked telegrams, blackmail, hidden identities, thunderstorms and all sort of lies and deception! The book also touches on some more serious topics, such as the subject of madness, how it was viewed in the 19th century and how it was often used as a convenient excuse to have women locked away in order to avoid embarrassment or scandal. It’s not really difficult to guess some of the secrets but, remembering that this was one of the first and most influential books of its type, I expect readers at the time would have found it more shocking and unpredictable. It would also have had some extra relevance for Victorian readers, as Braddon took inspiration from the high profile Constance Kent murder case of 1860, which also inspired parts of Wilkie Collins’ The Moonstone and, much later, The Suspicions of Mr Whicher by Kate Summerscale.

One thing I had forgotten from my previous read was how little of the story is actually written from Lady Audley’s perspective. Instead, we spend most of the novel in Robert Audley’s company as he tries to get to the bottom of his friend’s disappearance. Although ‘detective fiction’ didn’t really exist in 1861 in the way we know it today, Robert, who is a lawyer, takes on the role of an amateur detective, tracing clues, gathering evidence and speaking to witnesses. It’s fascinating to watch him gradually begin to unravel the truth, although I didn’t always agree with what he did with the information he uncovered! Because most of what we see and learn of Lady Audley is from Robert’s point of view, she’s very much the villain of the book, but I think it’s clear that Braddon wants us to at least have some sympathy for her circumstances, if not her actions. I was a bit disappointed that George’s sister, Clara Talboys, doesn’t play a bigger part in the story, though – when she’s first introduced, it seems she’s going to join Robert in his investigations, but she barely appears again until the end.

I enjoyed my re-read, then; it’s a very readable book and although it’s quite a long one and the pace slows down at times, I still flew through the pages faster than you would expect. I’ve also read two other books by Mary Elizabeth Braddon, both of which I’ve reviewed on my blog: Aurora Floyd and The Doctor’s Wife. The first has quite a similar feel to Lady Audley’s Secret, although I didn’t find it as exciting, but the latter is very different. I’ll definitely try to explore more of Braddon’s books soon, but I would also like to revisit East Lynne by Ellen Wood and some of my favourite Wilkie Collins sensation novels.

Here are the reviews of the other review-along participants. Let me know if I’ve missed yours!

FictionFan’s Book Reviews

Rose Reads Novels

Novel Deelights

Kelly’s Thoughts and Ramblings

What? Me Read?

The Cromarty Library Circle by Shona MacLean

My experience of Shona MacLean’s work has so far been limited to her historical thriller, The Bookseller of Inverness, set in Scotland in the aftermath of the 1745 Jacobite Rising (and published under the name SG MacLean). Her newest novel, The Cromarty Library Circle, is very different – the only similarity is that it’s also set in Scotland.

Cromarty is a town in the Scottish Highlands, situated at the tip of the Black Isle. The story takes place in 1831, when a group of people get together to form a circulating library and discuss which books they should order for it. They’re a select group, referred to by the town clockmaker (who has not been invited, despite being better read than they are) as ‘the great and the good’. They include Sir William and Charlotte Mackenzie, the local laird and his wife; her best friend, Rachel who is married to the minister, Alasdair Mackay; the previous minister, Micah Fraser, now retired; the hotel keeper Mrs Cameron and her son Ludovic, who works in a bank; two spinster sisters, the Misses Rose; a newly arrived schoolteacher, John Learmonth; an antiquarian, Isaac Fordyce, and the owner of a rope factory, Willie Hossack.

If you feel overwhelmed by this list, I can tell you that there are even more characters – those outside of the library circle – who also play a part in the story. Maybe it would have been better if I’d read this book in physical form and could easily turn back to the character list at the beginning, but I read it on my Kindle and struggled to keep track of who was who. It didn’t help that we switch from one perspective to another every few pages, rather than being given time to get to know one character before meeting another. Once I eventually managed to settle into the book and keep the many residents of Cromarty straight in my head, though, I found a lot to interest me.

In terms of plot, not much actually happens in the first half of the book. MacLean takes her time setting the scene and introducing the characters, focusing on all the gossip, snobbery, rivalries and minor scandals that go along with being part of a small 19th century community with a clearly defined social structure. I was strongly reminded of Cranford by Elizabeth Gaskell. The drama is saved for later in the book, when the troubled marriage between Sir William and Charlotte Mackenzie reaches breaking point, the secret past of schoolmaster John Learmonth is revealed, and the people of Cromarty have finally had enough of the arrogant, bullying attitude of the ropemaker’s son, Farquhar Hossack. I was more invested in the story by this point, so I think, for me, it was worth persevering through the slow, confusing beginning.

The lives of the characters play out against the backdrop of wider political and social changes affecting Scotland and the world as a whole. One of these issues is the debate around the abolition of slavery; this is of particular significance to our story because Sir William owns a plantation in the Caribbean and another character, Hester, is a formerly enslaved woman from Demerara who now works as a servant at the Camerons’ hotel. There’s also a lot of discussion in Cromarty of the Reform Act about to be passed in parliament which will extend the right to vote (although still not to women or most working class men). Then there’s the cholera epidemic gradually moving closer and closer to Cromarty and we even hear about the recent Polish uprising against Russia through the character of Stanislas, the clockmaker’s apprentice. The novel touches on so many different things that I felt the library circle storyline got a bit lost in the background, although it serves its purpose of bringing the central group of characters together now and then.

I had a mixture of feelings about this book, then, but in the end I enjoyed getting to know the people of Cromarty. I’ll look out for Shona MacLean’s next book, but I still have one of her earlier ones, The Redemption of Alexander Seaton, waiting to be read.

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

The Blind Woman of Sorrento by Francesco Mastriani

Translated by Idara Crespi

Francesco Mastriani is a completely new author for me – I’m sorry to say I hadn’t even heard of him until I was offered a review copy of his 1852 novel, The Blind Woman of Sorrento, but it seems he was a very prolific Italian writer, producing over two hundred works of fiction during the 19th century. Espresso Publishing House, an imprint focusing on neglected foreign-language novels, have made this one available in its first modern English translation.

The ‘blind woman’ of the title is Beatrice, daughter of the Marchese di Rionero. She wasn’t born blind, but at the age of three she witnessed the brutal murder of her mother and lost her sight due to the shock and trauma she suffered. Now, seventeen years later, an English doctor, Oliviero Blackman, has arrived in Sorrento and believes he can help her to see again. Unknown to Beatrice, however, Dr Blackman is not all he appears to be. Who is he and does he have another motive for promising to restore Beatrice’s sight?

We also get to know Gaetano Pisani, the son of the man who killed Beatrice’s mother all those years earlier. Gaetano’s life has also been affected by the events of that terrible night and he can’t escape the shame and guilt of knowing that his father was hanged for murder. When he crosses paths with his father’s accomplice and gets his hands on a box of jewels stolen from the murdered woman, it seems that he may still have a chance to find redemption.

I don’t want to say much more about the plot as I would prefer future readers to discover all the twists and turns of this fascinating novel for themselves, as I did. The publisher compares it to Wilkie Collins, which is a good comparison as this book does share many of the elements you would often find in Collins’ work and other 19th century sensation novels such as murders, stolen jewels, family secrets, revenge plots and hidden identities, as well as lots of melodrama! I was particularly reminded of Poor Miss Finch, which also deals with the subject of blindness in a similar way (although that book was published twenty years after this one and the plot itself is quite different). I also think if you’ve enjoyed books by authors like Alexandre Dumas or Rafael Sabatini, there’s a good chance you would enjoy this one too.

Although I would have preferred Beatrice to have been a stronger character (she has a tendency to faint and swoon), I did find it interesting to see how Mastriani writes about her blindness. For a book published in the 1850s, he handles the topic quite sensitively, never implying that she’s any less intelligent because of her condition – on the contrary, she is more observant and perceptive than most people, with her other senses being heightened to compensate. Gaetano is also a complex character: although his actions and motives are sometimes questionable, I could never really think of him as a villain, but at the same time he’s not entirely heroic either.

I found Idara Crespi’s translation very clear and easy to read and I appreciated the translator’s note at the beginning, explaining why certain words and spellings had been chosen. There’s also an introduction, which you can read before or after the novel itself (I got more out of it reading it afterwards), a glossary and some notes on historical Naples. Naples was Mastriani’s own place of birth and both that city and nearby Sorrento are vividly brought to life through his descriptions. I thoroughly enjoyed reading this book and was entertained by it from beginning to end.

The Night Hag by Hester Musson

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

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

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

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

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

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

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