The Surgeon’s House by Jody Cooksley

I haven’t read any of Jody Cooksley’s previous novels, but loved the sound of her new one, The Surgeon’s House, described as a ‘thrilling Gothic historical mystery’. It’s a sequel to The Small Museum, which I wasn’t aware of until after I started reading, but I hoped that wouldn’t be a problem.

The book is set in 1883 and begins with the murder of Rose Parmiter, the cook at Evergreen House, a refuge for women and children run by Rebecca Harris and her husband, George. At first, Rebecca can’t understand why anyone would kill Rose – it seems completely senseless and inexplicable – but when more mysterious incidents follow, she begins to wonder whether the legacy of Evergreen’s former residents, the evil Dr Everley and his sister Grace, is casting a shadow over the house. But Everley is dead and Grace confined to an asylum, so how could they possibly have anything to do with the events of the present day?

Meanwhile, Rebecca is trying to concentrate on providing a safe and happy home for ‘fallen women’ and their illegitimate children, but she faces opposition from Mr Lavell of the Charity Board who insists she is being too lenient. He believes the children belong in an orphanage and the mothers should be made to study the Bible and take in laundry to pay for their bed and board. Rebecca is determined to prove that her method is better, but when more people are found dead at Evergreen House she begins to fear that this will give Mr Lavell an excuse to take control of the refuge for himself.

I found a lot of things to like about The Surgeon’s House, but it took me a long time to get into it because such a large portion of the first half of the book was devoted to filling the reader in on the plot of The Small Museum. It seemed to me that the author was more interested in explaining what happened in the previous novel, what the characters had been doing in the intervening years and how they had coped with their traumatic experiences than she was in moving forward with the plot of this novel. It made me think I should have just read The Small Museum instead. Things did eventually start to move on, though, and by the middle of the book it had become much more compelling.

The setting was interesting as it reminded me a lot of Urania Cottage, the women’s shelter founded by Charles Dickens and Angela Burdett-Coutts which Stacey Halls wrote about in her recent novel, The Household – and I think if you liked that book, there’s a good chance you’ll like this one as well. Rebecca’s conflict with Mr Lavell forms a big part of the story, as she tries to keep her vision for Evergreen House alive despite his insistence that it should be run on the same model as the notorious Magdalene Laundries (which again reminded me of another book I’ve read, Small Things Like These by Claire Keegan).

The mystery element of the book, as I’ve said, was slow to develop at first but became stronger later on. There are some chapters written from the perspective of Grace in her asylum and we also meet Dr Threlfall, a psychiatrist who has a ‘clinic’ in the basement of Evergreen House where he is carrying out research and experiments. It’s an interesting novel, then, with lots of different threads to it, but I felt that these threads didn’t all come together as well as they could have done. It’s possible that I would have enjoyed this book more if I’d already read the first one, so it hasn’t necessarily put me off reading more of Jody Cooksley’s work.

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

The Heart in Winter by Kevin Barry – #ReadingIrelandMonth25

When I first heard about The Heart in Winter last year, despite seeing some very positive reviews I decided I wasn’t interested in reading it as it didn’t sound like my sort of book. After it was longlisted for the Walter Scott Prize earlier this year, I wondered if I’d been too quick to dismiss it and as Kevin Barry is an Irish author, I decided to try reading it for Reading Ireland Month (hosted this month by Cathy of 746 Books).

When I started reading, it seemed that my fears about it were justified. It’s a western, set in 1890s Montana, with lots of drinking, lots of swearing and lots of sex. Worse, there are no quotation marks to indicate speech, something I always dislike and find distracting. Still, I was prepared to give it a chance and persevere…

Tom Rourke is an Irishman living in Butte, Montana, where he works as a photographer’s assistant and a writer of love letters for illiterate men hoping to find wives. He’s also a drunk and an opium addict, drifting through life with no real aim or direction. Everything changes for Tom when Polly Gillespie arrives in town. Polly is newly married to an older man, Anthony Harrington, the fanatically religious captain of a copper mine. She’s already having doubts about her marriage, so when she and Tom fall in love, they decide to run away together. Stealing a horse, they head out across Montana and Idaho, hoping to make it all the way to California, but Harrington won’t let his bride escape that easily and soon a posse of gunmen are in pursuit.

Once Tom and Polly left Butte and set out on their journey, I started to feel much more engaged with the story. Although their romance was very sudden (literally love at first sight, with no time to show how their relationship developed), I still found it convincing and could easily believe that these two flawed, lonely people would form an instant connection. The narrative is split between Tom and Polly on the run and Harrington’s men who are hunting them down and although it seems that the odds are against the young lovers, I still hoped things would work out for them and they would find the happiness they deserved.

I wish I could say I loved this book the way everyone else has, but that wouldn’t be true. However, I did find a lot of things to admire in it, particularly the way Barry’s use of language brought the setting so vividly to life. There are also some very colourful supporting characters, both in Butte and among the people Tom and Polly meet on their travels. As I mentioned earlier, though, I really hate the current trend for not using punctuation correctly. If the idea is to make the prose feel more immersive, it does the exact opposite for me. Apart from that, I think I’m just not a fan of westerns in general. I did enjoy Patrick deWitt’s The Sisters Brothers, but the other westerns I’ve tried since then haven’t really worked for me, not even Days Without End by Sebastian Barry, whose work I usually love.

I won’t be at all surprised if this book is shortlisted for the Walter Scott Prize next month or even if it turns out to be the eventual winner. I just wasn’t the right reader for it, but I’m still glad I tried it and got to know Tom and Polly.

Clear by Carys Davies – #ReadingWales25

Clear is a book I hadn’t really considered reading until it appeared on the Walter Scott Prize longlist in February and I was pleased that I was still able to get a copy through NetGalley. Carys Davies is also a Welsh author, which is perfect for Reading Wales Month ’25, hosted this year by Karen at BookerTalk.

Clear is a beautifully written novella set in 1843 and telling the story of a friendship that forms between two men who should be enemies. John Ferguson is one of many evangelical ministers who have broken away from their church to form the Free Church of Scotland. Having given up his job and his home to establish this new church, John is struggling financially and, out of desperation, accepts an offer of work from a landowner who wants him to travel to a remote Scottish island and evict the last remaining tenant from the land. Forced evictions like these, known as Clearances, have been happening all over the Scottish Highlands as landlords remove the people living on their estates so that they can use the land for other purposes such as sheep farming. It’s a traumatic and often cruel process and not something John is looking forward to being part of.

The man John will have to evict is Ivar, who has lived alone on his island in the far north of Scotland since the deaths of his remaining family members. It’s an isolated life, but Ivar is content and has his horse, Pegi, for company. One day, he finds a man unconscious on the beach under the cliffs and takes him to his home to nurse him back to health. This is John Ferguson, who has met with an accident soon after arriving on the island. Ivar finds a picture of John’s wife, Mary, in his belongings and becomes infatuated with her, the first woman he’s seen for a long time – but as the injured man begins to recover, Ivar switches his affections to John himself. He has no idea why John is there, however, and because the two men speak different languages, he’s unable to ask.

Language forms an important part of the novel. Ivar speaks only Norn, a now extinct language once spoken in Shetland and Orkney, and John speaks English with a small amount of Scots. Over the course of the book, we see how two men unable to communicate in words are still able to bond and connect until eventually they do begin to learn each other’s language. In her author’s note Davies explains how the novel was inspired by Jakob Jakobsen’s Etymological Dictionary of the Norn Language in Shetland and she scatters Norn words throughout the book with a glossary at the back. Norn appears to have been a fascinating language; John is surprised to discover how descriptive it is and how many different words there are for mist, fog, wind and other types of weather.

Some parts of the novel are written from the perspective of Mary, John’s wife, who becomes concerned about the work her husband has been sent to do – she’s heard that the evictions can be unpleasant and violent – and decides to follow him to the island. I enjoyed reading Mary’s story and thought her sections of the book perfectly complemented Ivar and John’s. Mary’s thread of the novel comes together with the others near the end, and although I’m not going to tell you how the book ends I can say that it wasn’t what I expected but I was quite happy with it!

Carys Davies’ writing is beautiful and also very readable and I found this a quick, absorbing read. For such a short book, there’s a lot packed inside it. It reminded me a lot of Claire Keegan’s novella Small Things Like These, so if you enjoyed one book I would recommend trying the other.

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

The Resurrectionist by A. Rae Dunlap

It’s 1828 and James Willoughby has just arrived in Edinburgh to begin his medical studies at the university. Having found himself completely unsuited to the career in the church that his parents had planned for him, James has decided that medicine is his true vocation. After speaking to some of his fellow students, he discovers that due to the large class sizes the university can only offer very limited opportunities for practical experience. In order to gain the surgical knowledge he desires, it will also be necessary to attend one of the city’s private anatomy schools where he’ll be able to dissect and study the human body for himself.

Although James comes from a wealthy family, they have fallen on hard times since his father’s death. There’s enough money to pay for his lodgings at the Hope and Anchor Inn, but not much else. If he wants to go to anatomy school, he’ll have to find a way to pay the fees himself. Signing up for Dr Malstrom’s prestigious school, James confides in the doctor’s apprentice, Aneurin MacKinnon, explaining his financial difficulties. Aneurin – or Nye, as he prefers to be called – tells him he may have a solution to the problem. And with that, James finds himself drawn into the secretive, macabre world of body snatching – taking corpses from graves under cover of darkness and selling them to anatomists for study and research purposes.

I loved this book! As a debut novel it’s very impressive and I’ll certainly be looking out for more by A. Rae Dunlap. From the very first page she captures the formal feel of the 19th century novel and manages to avoid using the sort of inappropriately modern language that could have so easily pulled me out of the historical setting. As with Ambrose Parry’s Raven and Fisher series, there are lots of insights into the medical world of 19th century Edinburgh, with the focus here being on the study of anatomy and surgery and how progress was hampered by the lack of human cadavers for students to work with. Edinburgh itself provides an atmospheric setting for the novel, especially as most of the action, for obvious reasons, takes place at night. There are lots of suitably Gothic descriptions of lonely cemeteries, dark alleys and disreputable inns, all forming the backdrop to the trade of body snatching.

The Resurrectionist is narrated by James Willoughby, whom I really liked and believed in as a character. He begins the novel as an innocent, well-meaning young man who has led a somewhat sheltered life and who gradually grows as a person as he has his eyes opened to things and experiences he had never imagined. Over the course of the novel, we see a friendship form between James and the more worldly Nye, which eventually develops into something more. I thought the story was already interesting enough without adding a romance, but it does seem to arise naturally from the characters’ interactions rather than being forced in for the sake of it. It also provides an extra sense of danger, as both men are under no illusions as to the importance of keeping their relationship secret and what could happen to them if they are found out.

Although James and Nye and their friends are fictional, several other characters in the book really existed, most notably the infamous Burke and Hare, probably the best known body snatchers – or ‘resurrectionists’ – in history. As competition amongst the city’s anatomists increases and tasked with providing a steady supply of corpses for their employer Dr Knox, Burke and Hare decide that in addition to grave robbing, there could be another way to meet the demand for bodies. I knew very little about Burke and Hare before reading this book, so I enjoyed seeing how things played out for them and how Dunlap seamlessly worked them into James and Nye’s fictional story while also staying true to the historical facts.

The end of the novel wraps things up enough to make this a satisfactory standalone, but also sets up a potential sequel. This one felt very much like a coming of age novel for James, so I would be interested to see what the future has in store for him. If Dunlap has decided to move on and write something different, though, I will be equally interested to read whatever it is!

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

The Queen of Fives by Alex Hay

The Queen of Fives. They breathed the title with reverence on the docks, down the coastline. A lady with a hundred faces, a thousand voices, a million lives. She might spin into yours if you didn’t watch out…She played a glittering game: lifting a man’s fortune with five moves, in five days, before disappearing without a trace.

I enjoyed Alex Hay’s first novel, The Housekeepers, about a group of servants staging a heist during a ball in a grand London house. I hoped for something similar from his next book – and that’s what I got! If anything, this one is more complex, ambitious and inventive.

It’s 1898 and Quinn Le Blanc has five days to convince the Duke of Kendal to marry her and trick him out of his fortune. Why five days? Because Quinn is the ‘Queen of Fives’, the leader of a network of London con artists based at a house known as The Château who play by a specific set of rules. Their current game is called False Heiress and there are a number of steps that have to be carried out on each day of the con. The Château has been operating for generations and there have been many previous Queens. During Quinn’s eight-year reign, however, things have started going wrong: debts are mounting and the house is falling into disrepair. She desperately needs this latest scheme to be a success.

Quinn is assisted by Mr Silk, whose job is to serve the Queen and to guard the all-important Rulebook, which contains the instructions for the Château’s various games. But watching from the shadows is the mysterious Man in the Blue Silk Waistcoat – and also the equally mysterious Woman in the Cream Silk Gown – who will do whatever it takes to stop Quinn in her tracks.

As you can see, this is an unusual story based on an unusual premise and, to be honest, I was never fully convinced by it. I didn’t really understand why it was so important to complete the game within five days and to stick so rigidly to the Rulebook, when allowing more time or adapting the rules to fit unforeseen circumstances could have made it easier to win. Still, I managed to just suspend disbelief and go along with it! After a slow start, with time spent introducing the characters and the history of the Château, things gradually pick up pace and by the middle of the book I was gripped.

As with The Housekeepers, the reader is in the rare position of wanting the villains, in this case Quinn and her friends, to succeed. However, we also get to know the victims, the Duke of Kendal and his sister, Tor (short for Victoria). Tor is a single woman in her thirties who still lives with her brother and their stepmother and she is worried about losing her home should the Duke decide to marry. Tor is immediately suspicious of the woman who appears out of nowhere and introduces herself as Miss Quinta White, but the Duke himself seems unsuspecting. Later, we discover that he has reasons of his own for wanting to marry quickly, so Quinn’s attentions aren’t unwelcome to him – though, of course, he has no idea who she really is or what her plans are.

There are some great twists towards the end of the book and although in hindsight I feel I should probably have seen them coming, I didn’t and was taken by surprise. I think overall I preferred The Housekeepers, but both books are fun and I’m already looking forward to a third book by Alex Hay, whenever and whatever that may be.

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

God is an Englishman by RF Delderfield – #1970Club

My final book for this week’s 1970 Club hosted by Simon and Karen is one I was almost certain I would love – and I did! I’ve read several of RF Delderfield’s other books and particularly enjoyed his A Horseman Riding By trilogy, set in rural England during the first half of the 20th century. God is an Englishman, published in 1970, is the first in another trilogy, known as the Swann Saga, which promises to be equally enjoyable.

The novel begins with soldier Adam Swann fighting in India during the Sepoy Mutiny of 1857. In the chaos of the battlefield, Adam stumbles upon a valuable ruby necklace in a broken casket. With no way of finding its rightful owner and reluctant to hand it over to the East India Company, he decides to use it to start a new life for himself. Disillusioned by his experiences with the Mutiny and previously the Crimean War, Adam has been considering resigning from the army anyway and the money from the sale of the necklace will enable him to launch a new business venture.

On his return to England, Adam contemplates investing in railways but a better plan soon begins to emerge. What about the areas of the country that can’t be reached by train? He rides out into the countryside to investigate the possibility of a horse-drawn delivery service and after passing through Seddon Moss, a mill town near Manchester, he has his first encounter with the mill owner’s daughter, Henrietta Rawlinson, who is running away to avoid marriage to a man she doesn’t love. The rest of the novel follows the formation and expansion of Adam’s new business, Swann-on-Wheels, and his relationship with Henrietta as they marry and start a home and family.

At almost 700 pages in the edition I read, this book was quite a commitment, especially as I needed to finish it in time to review this week and should probably have started it earlier. However, once I became absorbed in the story, the pages went by a lot more quickly than I’d expected and I was sorry to reach the end.

While the Horseman Riding By books were set in the countryside with a focus on farming and rural life, this one is set in the very different world of trade, business and industry. It’s fascinating to see how Adam starts with nothing except some jewels and some good ideas and slowly builds up Swann-on-Wheels into a successful haulage company with depots all over the country. Adam gives each region a name (the Border Triangle, the Mountain Square, the Western Wedge…) and each one presents its own unique set of challenges and opportunities depending on the terrain, the existing infrastructure and the industries already operating in that area. He also puts a manager in charge of each area and although some of them are not much more than names on the page, others are brought to life and have adventures of their own.

The broad geographical setting and large number of characters allows Delderfield to address many specific topics and social issues relevant to life in Victorian Britain. Through Henrietta’s father, the miller Sam Rawlinson, we see first the dissatisfaction of the mill workers with their pay and working conditions and later the impact of the reduction in the supply of raw cotton due to the American Civil War. The fate of homeless children and the dangers facing young boys used as chimney sweeps are also explored – and if all of this makes you think of Charles Dickens, there’s a cameo appearance from the man himself as he and several of the Swann family become involved in the Staplehurst rail accident of 1865.

At the heart of the novel, though, is the relationship between Adam and Henrietta and how it develops as both characters grow and change and make discoveries about themselves and each other. Henrietta, being a lot younger than Adam, is immature, innocent and frivolous at the start of the novel and there’s a sense that although Adam loves her he doesn’t fully understand or respect her. It’s only after the introduction of another woman, Edith Wadsworth, into both their lives, that Henrietta begins to take control of her future and Adam comes to see her as more of an equal. Ironically, Edith, the daughter of one of Swann-on-Wheels’ area managers, is in love with Adam herself, but I won’t tell you what happens there or whether she acts on her feelings!

I think some readers will probably enjoy this book more for the Swann family storylines and others for the insights into the building of a business empire. I found both interesting and felt that Delderfield got the balance between the two just about right. I will be continuing with the second book, Theirs Was the Kingdom!

Book 45/50 for the Historical Fiction Reading Challenge 2024

In the Upper Country by Kai Thomas

In the Upper Country came to my attention earlier this year when it was shortlisted for the Walter Scott Prize and as I’ve been looking out for historical fiction set in Canada (see my Historical Musings post from last year) it’s one I was particularly interested in reading.

The novel opens in 1859 in Dunmore, Ontario, a fictional town settled by people fleeing slavery in the American South. It is home to Lensinda Martin, a young black journalist who works for a local newspaper. When an old woman who has recently arrived in Dunmore through the Underground Railroad kills a slave hunter and is arrested, Lensinda is sent to interview her in jail. The old woman insists that if she’s going to tell her story, Lensinda must tell one in return and so, over the course of several days, the two women begin to exchange tales.

The stories they tell reveal not only how the old woman came to be in Dunmore and to kill a man, but also the journeys of other slaves and the significance of all of this on Lensinda’s own life. They also explore the connections between the Black and Indigenous communities of North America – something which Kai Thomas in his author’s note points out is usually ignored in other novels about slavery. It’s certainly not a subject I know much about, so I found that aspect of the book interesting.

Although Dunmore is not a real place, Thomas explains that it’s inspired by similar towns that did exist, such as North Buxton, Ontario. It had never occurred to me that there were whole towns settled by slaves in Canada; in fact, everything I’ve previously read about the Underground Railroad has focused more on how the slaves manage to escape and begin their journey rather than on what happens to them after they reach their destination. It’s a book with lots of interesting themes and topics, then – and it’s always good when you reach the end of a novel feeling that you’ve learned something new.

On a more negative note, the structure of the book didn’t work very well for me at all. There were too many different stories, too many different voices and I found it difficult to follow what was happening and engage with the characters. I almost abandoned it several times because I just couldn’t get into the flow of the writing, but I kept going and did manage to finish it. I don’t regret reading it, but for me it was definitely more of an educational book than an enjoyable one!

This is book 17/20 of my 20 Books of Summer 2024.

Book 35/50 for the Historical Fiction Reading Challenge 2024