A Symphony of Echoes, Jodi Taylor

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Book two in The Chronicles of St. Mary's gives us a chance to catch up with Max, promoted to Chief Operations Officer but just as hot headed. We find her in Victorian London on the hunt for Jack the Ripper. It’s Kalinda Black’s final jump (for those rare few who make it, they’re able to pick where they’d like to go), but it soon becomes clear that going looking for one of history’s most notorious killers might not have been the best idea, and they’re getting more than they bargained for.

Fast-paced as ever, Taylor whizzes us off on a dodo hunt, to the Hanging Gardens of Nineveh, and sixteenth century Scotland to try and get history back on track. Amid all the adventure is the usual camaraderie between colleagues and the explosive relationship between Max and Leon. Our heroes are not the only returning players though, with some familiar villains hiding in time and causing chaos and destruction at every opportunity.

Taylor continues the series with flair and good humour, and although at times this doesn’t feel quite as strong as book one, it’s still hugely enjoyable. The locations and times that they visit are varied and interesting, and Max gets herself in some sticky situations you’re not sure how she’ll escape from. A few new aspects are added to the mix - a jump forward in time, and a mission to the past where they actually want to interfere with the outcome. This provides some new conundrums and also offers Max the opportunity to really step up. Seeing events from her perspective with added comments from the benefit of hindsight, we see when she realises she’s made an error. The team prove themselves strong, loyal and brave time and again, and repeatedly do everything they can to ensure nobody is left behind. 

Whether you’ve always wondered at the true identity of Jack the Ripper, or questioned how alluring Bothwell really was, this book has some fun takes on our historic household names. The drawing of the different eras and geographies is rich and evocative, and the little details about, for example, how difficult the dress of the day made it to get around, make it feel believable. It is the history that takes centre stage and once more Taylor presents it to us in an engaging, humorous style. I’m looking forward to finding out where they all end up next. 

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Blog Tour: The Sleeping Beauties, Lucy Ashe

This review is part of the blog tour for the novel. Thank you to Random Things Tours and Magpie Books for providing me with a copy of the book in exchange for an honest review.

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It’s 1945 and Rosamund Caradon is escorting the last of the evacuees that she has cared for during the war back to London, her daughter Jasmine enjoying her last chance to boss them around. Their journey back to London is disrupted when Briar Woods, a young ballet dancer, chooses their carriage to travel in. The children are delighted, having taken some basic ballet classes during their stay at Gittisham Manor, but Rosamund is suspicious. Why choose their carriage, noisy with excited children, when there are plenty of empty spaces? Her discomfort around Briar only grows as she encourages Jasmine to increasingly enter her world. Why is Briar so insistent that they become close, and why does she seem hostile to Rosamund?

The early chapters set up the scenario in a way that the reader is unsettled by Briar, seeing her through Rosamund’s eyes, but also have reason to suspect Rosamund may be being overly cautious. She repeatedly mentions how she’d like to be able to stay in the safety of the grounds of Gittisham Manor with Jasmine, away from the world. Could it be that the bustle of London and the sad memories it holds for her are influencing her response to this young woman who is being nothing but accommodating? The focus then shifts to Briar and her history and we follow her for the majority of the book with a few different time jumps to drip feed her story. 

Alongside her friends Martha and Vivian, Briar is a dancer with the Sadler’s Wells Ballet. We get a sense of the wonderful camaraderie between them, an intimacy from living and dancing together. You feel the excitement and promise of young lives, living on their own for the first time, travelling the country and meeting exciting new people. Unfortunately, this comes with a dose of heartache for some, and difficult situations that will have far-reaching consequences. We are reminded that although these young women seem to have freedom and independence, the age they’re living in is still very much stacked against them, and they are held to a very different standard than the men they encounter.

The fictional lives of Briar and her friends are intermingled with famous names from the ballet world (Margot Fonteyn, Ninette de Valois, and Robert Helpmann to name but a few) and events from the company’s history. They travel to the Hague as it’s on the brink of invasion from Germany, a difficult chapter from the past where fictional tragedy is inserted. Ashe seamlessly blends fact and fiction, and ballet fans will enjoy the references to well known figures and productions. There is no shying away from the challenges of being a professional dancer, especially during a time of war and rationing, but the splendour of their production of The Sleeping Beauty as they return to the Royal Opera House stands in stark contrast to the heartbreak of the characters.

This is a story of secrets and an examination of what it means to be a mother. It considers how the choices you make when young can have impacts far beyond what you can envisage at the time. It is a heartfelt, well researched novel. The ballet environment that forms the setting is enjoyable but the heart of the story could happen with any backdrop. The characters are well drawn and believable, and you’re left wishing you could see more of how the revelations play out. A great read, I’ll be going back and reading Ashe’s debut.

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The Haunting Scent of Poppies, Victoria Williamson

This review is part of the blog tour for the novella. Thank you to The WriteReads and Little Thorn Books for providing me with a copy of the book in exchange for an honest review.

A few days before Christmas 1918 and Charlie Briggs arrives in the sleepy town of Petersfield, away from the hustle and bustle of London, and more importantly, safely hidden from those who want to find him. The Great War has not long ended and there are reminders of the fallen everywhere. Charlie, however, has no feelings of sorrow or respect, believing that everybody would rather forget but feels obliged to act out remorse. He avoided the action by having a friend write him a medical note excusing him from battle, but he frequently pretends he was at the Front. Always on the lookout for opportunities to make a quick buck, he is delighted when he discovers an incredibly rare book in the local bookshop. It’s not for sale, meaning a great deal to the owner, but it soon ends up in Charlie’s pocket. He should be long gone by the time they re-open in the New Year, living it up on the proceeds, which would set him up, if only it weren’t for his gambling habit that so often means his money goes just as soon as he gets it. Before long, it becomes apparent that this isn’t your average book. He has a physical reaction when he touches it, and in the days that follow he experiences vivid hallucinations of gas attacks which somehow seep into reality and leave his body covered in painful blisters. He believes himself to be followed by something dark lurking around every corner, and his dreams are haunted by the sad end of the book’s previous owner. 

Charlie is not a likeable character. When he ends up staying with a woman connected to the tragic story that accompanies the book, he cares nothing for her suffering but only in finding out more about the provenance of the book, hoping that it will help raise its price. He is constantly looking for victims to pickpocket, and has no real remorse for what he’s done, his only concern is with stopping the nightmares and making his money as quickly as possible. There is a sense that his experiences are giving him a taste of what so many suffered through, events that he piggybacks on to ingratiate himself with his victims. You can’t help but wonder how he’ll ever escape the horror that’s following him. It is a hard-hitting reminder of the horrors of war, this is after all, a haunting based in reality not fantasy.

A well written book that sets the scene neatly. The characters are well drawn and the side characters, who are more sympathetic, will elicit more compassion in the reader. In a short space of time you understand Charlie’s motivations and outlook, and can picture Petersfield clearly. The premise for the story is interesting, and the images truly horrifying. An interesting, evocative read that you can easily get through in one sitting. 

Elizabeth of York: The Last White Rose, Alison Weir

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This post is part of the blog tour for the book. Thanks to Random Things Tours and Headline Review for providing me with a free copy of the book in exchange for an honest review.

Weir starts her new Tudor Rose trilogy with an exploration of the life of Elizabeth of York. Eldest daughter of Edward IV and Elizabeth Woodville, she is brought up to rule. Her life from a young age is full of danger and disruption however, as she goes into sanctuary while her father is briefly in exile. Once he returns things don’t settle down for long with family losses, betrayal, and her father’s untimely death which throws her life into disarray. Her uncle takes the throne and there’s rumours he murdered her brothers, before plotting to marry her to make his reign more legitimate. The Wars of the Roses are a dangerous time, with the country in an almost constant state of flux. The promise of a marriage to young Henry Tudor seems to be the clearest way to get Elizabeth a crown and secure the dynasty, bringing an end to the wars between the Lancastrians and Yorkists. It’s a decision that will have huge consequences for the course of English history.

This is an expansive book, covering Elizabeth’s life from the age of four through to her death. Her life is naturally very different to that of the average reader, but there are still hints of the normal embarrassments and challenges of growing up. She struggles to come to terms with the reality of some of her relatives’ behaviour, so starkly contrasted to the way they’ve always treated her. Elizabeth and her sister Cecily are close, and they delight over beautiful gowns and comfort each other in moments of difficulty. It is her interactions with her siblings that make her feel most human, the constant desire for power and the complex games of betrothal put her at a distance.

Indeed, Weir does not shy away from the suffering caused to the family when young children die, or siblings are killed for others’ gain. Often when people think of history and the prevalence of death there is a perception that maybe the losses didn’t hit as hard as they would today. This novel counters that, with every loss being a devastating blow, every child loved deeply, despite at times appearing to be mere pawns. 

Weir centres women in many of her books, and this is no exception. Where history may have silenced them, fiction brings to life their internal lives. Elizabeth’s mother is no helpless maiden, forcefully putting across her point and influencing her husband’s decisions. Elizabeth herself plays an active role in trying to secure the throne and is willing to do what is required to get what she wants.

Personally, I found it hard to connect to characters whose main motivation was securing power for themselves, but for many history enthusiasts I’m sure this book will be a delightful dive into an important historical figure whose story is often overshadowed by the men around her. Full of historical detail and dealing with some famous mysteries from the time, there’s a lot to sink your teeth into.

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The Family, Naomi Krupitsky

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Sofia Colicchio and Antonia Russo grow up next door to each other in 1920s Brooklyn. They are connected by being from Family families, a fact that separates them from their peers. Sofia is fierce and impulsive, Antonia more thoughtful and unassuming, yet both rely on the other for a sense of themselves, to remind each other they exist. When tragedy strikes and the Family is to blame it threatens the very fabric of their existence. Antonia’s mother Lina retreats into herself and Antonia becomes more reliant on the Colicchios for a sense of family, although she hates the Family and everything it has done to her. Over the course of the book we see how inextricably linked their lives are and how hard it is to heed the warnings of the past.

The Family is central to the tale yet the violence and crimes it perpetrates are at a remove. Here, the focus is the women, and the toll Family life takes on them. Lina warns Antonia never to marry a Family man, yet she finds herself falling for Paolo and pushing aside her concerns. Despite the early rush of love and security he seems to provide, she soon notices signs of her old troubles seeping in. When things come to a head it seems history might be about the repeat itself and we realise just how impenetrable a web the Family weaves around itself. Sofia falls for one of her father’s employees, someone she doesn’t think would ever be seen as an acceptable husband and therefore safe to fall for as he'd never get the chance to limit her independence. Sofia herself becomes increasingly deeply involved in Family business and it soon becomes clear that the net is closing around them too. 

Both Paolo and Saul dreamed of different lives for themselves, whether more ambitious or wholesome. Saul escaped Germany, fleeing to America for safety, but the horrors of the war and terror over what might have become of his mother haunt him. The Colicchios benefit greatly from the War and Saul becomes entangled in their world, convincing himself it’s just temporary, he’s helping refugees but once it’s all over he’ll do something else. As the War draws to a close it becomes apparent that the Family is not a temporary alliance and he is forced to make some hard decisions.

Joey, the head of the operation, can also find himself torn between his two lives - the family man and the Family. As time passes the pressure increases and he feels at a remove from his daughters. Sofia rebels as a teen and he is struck by the contrast between the fear he invokes in the men that owe him a debt and his powerlessness with this young woman. He wants to protect her from the grim reality of his life outside their family unit.

Against the background of violence abroad and much closer to home, we see Antonia and Sofia go through the familiar pains and joys of growing up, the impossible dreams and inevitable disappointments. Their transition to high school is their first experience of life away from people who know about the Family, their first chance to find out who they really are, and the first time they spend significant periods apart. It is a time of transformation, growth, and self discovery.

The searing, honest descriptions of their pregnancies and early motherhood can be difficult to read. There are doubts and fears abut whether they’ll be good mothers, if they want to be mothers at all. The dream of a happy home filled with children is contrasted with the shock of a traumatic birth and the sense of dissociation that it can bring. It is raw and challenging and so important to see these depictions. As ever, they rally around each other in their moments of need, providing the support and reassurance required to get through while hiding from their own insecurities. 

This book is a beautiful examination of a friendship with its natural ebb and flow. There are moments of pure joy where their families overlap and merge and they seem to be one. Inevitably there are also times where they pull apart and struggle to connect with each other’s decisions, but always there is the certainty that when they are needed they will be there. This is a promising debut with believably drawn characters whose triumphs will bring a smile to your face and whose struggles will claw at your heart.

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The Devil and the Dark Water, Stuart Turton

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It’s 1634 and the Saardam is setting off from Batavia on its long journey to Amsterdam. Aboard are the governor general, Jan Haan, hoping to be admitted into the Gentlemen 17 on arrival, his family and mistress, a renowned detective, Samuel Pipps, boarding in chains for a crime unknown to most onboard, including his loyal assistant, Arent Hayes. There’s crew and treasure aplenty aboard the ship, and when things start going wrong, everyone seems to have motive. A demon known as Old Tom whispers to the passengers, tempting them to commit murder. Trapped in the confines of the ship, the tension grows rapidly as the sign of Old Tom spreads and seemingly impossible events unfold.

The opening is dramatic - a leper at the dock warns passengers that the ship is cursed before apparently self-combusting. On closer examination it’s noted that his tongue had been cut out and an injury to his leg means he would not have been able to position himself where he made the announcement. This is a brief taste of the type of mysteries ahead, and gets you hooked right away.

There are moments where the pace lags, and the vast array of characters can take a while to orient yourself with, but the subplots keep you interested. Sara, Jan Haan’s wife, is on surprisingly good terms with his mistress. She despises her cruel husband and is surprised to discover others have experienced a softer side in years past. Their daughter Lia is in possession of a brilliant mind but is forced to conceal her intelligence as it is not seen as fitting for her sex. In Batavia she was kept separate from the outside world and hates her father for the abuse he inflicts on Sara.

Arent seems to have a good heart, but he also has the mark of Old Tom on his wrist, a mark he received in childhood during a curious incident he doesn’t fully remember. There is a constant sense of mistrust, but Turton writes the characters in a way that draws you in to some of them, instinctively feeling that they can’t be malicious. Others, however, maintain a sense of mystery.

The second half of the book is where the action really ramps up with the smaller mysteries revealed and the peril to those onboard rising with every page. When the final reveal arrives it feels a little rushed, giving us a sense of the disorientation that the characters would feel as their accepted reality changes in a few short moments. The truth is complex and I definitely didn’t see it coming, yet was left feeling as though something were missing, that there had been a slight misstep with the characters we felt we knew acting in ways that didn’t feel quite true to them.

This is an interesting read, playing with the idea of superstition, guilt, and suspicion. Despite its historical setting, Turton is upfront about the fact historical accuracy comes second to plot, and the book is none the weaker for it. He creates a claustrophobic, intense atmosphere that has the overall feeling of a different time. The characters’ background stories and motivation make them intriguing players in a novel that defies definition.

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A Sparrow Alone, Mim Eichmann

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In 1890s Colorado in the midst of the Cripple Creek gold rush, we find teenaged Hannah Owens suddenly without a mother. She becomes a domestic apprentice in the home of a wealthy doctor but soon finds herself once again being tossed around by fate. She encounters a huge amount of suffering and is forced to act well beyond her years, desperately trying to avoid the perceived taint of prostitution that afflicted many women, often victims of sexual assault. We watch helplessly as a tangled web of intrigue and dishonesty forms around her, tripping her up every time she looks about to get ahead.

A number of the characters are drawn directly from history, including Winfield Scott Stratton who discovered a huge gold mine that started the Cripple Creek gold rush, and Pearl de Vere, the infamous owner of high-end brothel ‘the Old Homestead.’ The sudden huge population growth, and the resulting high demand for prostitutes, the local devastating fires, as well as unrest among the miners, provide a dramatic backdrop for Hannah’s story.

There’s a fairly large host of characters and it can take a little while to understand who they all are and how they fit together, especially as some appearances are fleeting. Eichmann provides moving back stories for many of the characters, fictional or otherwise, which help the reader appreciate the person behind the legend. There is great camaraderie between many of the women who have often faced similar challenges. The poverty that many live in, however, does on occasion lead to some callous behaviour as they desperately strive for some stability for their offspring. Stratton himself refuses any kind of commitment and takes advantage of many women who receive only coldness when they find themselves with child. John Barrington also positions himself to take what he wants, manipulating situations so his victims feel themselves to be completely out of options.

The mistreatment of women and the perception of them as commodities is a recurring theme. There are scenes of assault that can be difficult to read, and it is made clear that their lives can be ruined by it. Pearl is described as having great talent and compassion but is forced to put her dreams aside when she is impregnated by her father and labelled a ‘whore’. Hannah herself is used as part payment for her family’s debts, completely without her knowledge or consent. She hears tales of other women who have died as a result of such arrangements. There is no paternal affection evident, just businesslike transactions with the lives and bodies of their daughters. Hannah despairs and feels defeated when she realises the truth, but is determined and resilient, doing all she can to avoid a life of abuse, aided by those who were not able to save themselves.

There are undertones of discrimination throughout, and racism is often alluded to. When a white mother gives birth to a baby of colour they are forced apart, being told in no uncertain terms that they would not be accepted. We see later in the novel the impact of racial segregation and the way it deprives so many of an education. As a modern reader it is a stark reminder of the inequalities that have existed for centuries and have not yet been fully eradicated.

This is an interesting read that highlights the imbalance of power and expectations, with victim blaming rife. It is easy to forget just how young Hannah is, having been through so much in her short life. The particular historic setting was new to me but fascinating to learn about. There is great strength in many of the characters as well as villains that make resistance feel futile, so uneven is the playing field. Nonetheless, Hannah persists and is a gentle light in a dark world.

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The Doll Factory, Elizabeth Macneal

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Set against the backdrop of Victorian London, Macneal’s debut is part thriller, part love letter to art. Iris works in a doll factory with her sister Rose, painting faces on dolls and unable to resist trying to divine whether the child its meant to represent is dead or alive. This little tinge of darkness that appears at the start will set the tone for much of the book. Louis is a budding artist and member of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood, desperately working on a piece for consideration at the Royal Academy. When he sees Iris he knows she is perfect as the inspiration for the Queen in his painting. Silas spends his life away from polite society, preserving and stuffing dead animals, often selling them to artists, but ultimately hoping to open his own museum. The Great Exhibition, in construction at the time the book is set, is his immediate focus. Their lives intertwine in a tale of passion, obsession, and ambition.

Iris is keenly aware of the precarious position of women in society. She watched as Rose’s life fell apart when the man she was due to marry broke off contact when she fell ill. They’re now stuck in unhappy lives with parents willing to cut them off if they do anything considered inappropriate. Rose dreams of owning her own shop and Iris longs to create art. She spends her evenings working on paintings considered scandalous, scraping together dregs of art supplies. When Louis shows interest in her she sees her chance to be trained as an artist, but her association with the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood and her role as model means she is shunned by society, who consider her little more than a prostitute. As time passes it becomes apparent that Louis is oblivious to her diminished status, and that even his peers do not take women seriously. We are reminded time and again how fraught a woman’s position is and how vulnerable to male violence. 

Iris’s sections of the book are nonetheless the much lighter - her budding talent and enthusiasm for a life different to the one she has grown to expect are heartening, as is her first taste of love. The sections focussing on Silas however, become increasingly sinister as the book progresses. In early passages you almost feel pity for him - he is an oddball and an outcast and mourns the loss of his childhood sweetheart. It soon becomes apparent however, that he has a violent streak and an unhealthy obsession with women with red hair, such as that of Iris. We are given hints that his violence may have led to fatality and it makes the book unputdownable as you want to discover the truth of his past and how it will impact on the other characters. He is entirely delusional, imagining an elaborate love story between himself and Iris, and unable to cope when she doesn’t behave as he’d like. The reader is led to worry for her safety as we see how easily he snaps, how other characters seem to remember attacks he has carried out, yet Silas has convinced himself an innocent party, misunderstood and mistreated. He is an extremely unpleasant character, yet fascinating to read.

Fans of the period will enjoy references to famous personalities and the art world, Macneal seamlessly placing the fictional Louis in the company of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood. Her descriptions of the capital ooze with atmosphere and danger, and shines a light on the lives of those struggling to survive. The compassion and generosity of Albie, an orphan who sells animal corpses to Silas in order to save for a new pair of teeth, is touching. He has his own dreams but puts his younger sister, who has been forced to sell her body, before himself. Iris is like a sister to him and he is wracked with guilt when he realises what he’s brought upon her in introducing her to Silas. Albie is one of the most likeable, sweet characters in the book, and you root for him to have a happy ending.

Despite dealing with dark subjects, Macneal succeeds in bringing some lightness to the book with moments of touching emotion and humour, often provided by Louis’ pet wombat Guinevere. This is a promising debut with evocative writing and intriguing characters. There are perhaps a few too many side stories of no real consequence, but once you’ve got your head around who is who it’s a hard book to put down.

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Dear Mrs Bird, A J Pearce

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When Emmeline (Emmy) Lake bags herself an exciting new job she thinks she’s taken her first steps to accomplishing her dream of becoming a Lady War Correspondent. Unfortunately, she soon discovers that she’s actually been hired as a typist at Woman’s Friend, a failing magazine with an Editress decidedly behind the times. She has a lengthy list of unacceptable topics for the advice column, and even those she does respond to probably wish she hadn’t. Emmy is affected by the desperate letters that come through, knowing how easy it is to get yourself in an unfortunate situation, especially with the war on. She feels moved to act.

Outside of Woman’s Friend she has plenty to keep her occupied. She lives with her lifelong best friend Bunty who is fiercely loyal and not so subtly tries to set Emmy up. When not entangled in budding romance, Emmy volunteers overnight at the fire station, contributing to the war effort in the best way she knows how yet always wishing she could do more. Although generally an upbeat, fairly naïve narrator, you do get a sense of the struggles of living in London during the Blitz and having to maintain the famous British stiff upper lip. In placing women in the leading roles Pearce brings into focus the toll the war took at home and the pressure to remain jolly however bad it got.

An easy read that was predictable throughout. The premise of the agony aunt letters is largely overshadowed by Emmy’s life outside of the office. At its most gripping in the build up to inevitable tragedy, this is a book with a big heart. Emmy’s final letter in Dear Mrs Bird is her most mature and will strike a chord and humanise a traumatic period of history, the human story of which is often obscured by positive propaganda.

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Sovereign, C. J. Sansom

Sovereign is the third outing for lawyer turned detective Matthew Shardlake. The year is 1541 and the King’s Progress has reached York, a hostile city that does not welcome the arrival of so many southerners. The king hopes his visit will help quell resistance in the north but bad weather and an absent king of Scotland delays the Progress and puts huge strain on a city that hasn’t forgiven Henry for the split from Rome.

In his characteristic style Sansom does not sugarcoat life in the Tudor period. He describes the rotting corpses hung over the gates to the city, the hardships endured by the citizens and the uncertainty of the age. The story revolves around those who believe the king is not the rightful heir to the throne and Shardlake himself is in danger when it seems he’s seen incriminating documents. The claustrophobic atmosphere of fear and suspicion is expertly crafted.

Shardlake is under orders to ensure Broderick, a rebel prisoner, is kept alive ready to be tortured in the Tower once returned to London. This causes a conflict of morals for him, knowing the horrors of the torture chamber. There are also hints that Shardlake could be swayed by the conspirators’ point of view, though he has enough experience and diplomacy not to allow himself to become incriminated.

He nonetheless finds himself in an increasingly difficult situation as he discovers secrets of the Queen alongside his assistant Barak and love interest Tamasin. This knowledge sees Shardlake interrogated under false accusations and the sheer horror of torture is shown through the descent into madness and suicide of a number of characters awaiting interrogation.

An atmospheric novel that balances a number of interlinked mysteries, the climax of which is a real page turner. The sights, smells, and struggles of life in the sixteenth century are realistically evoked and the historic note at the end explains any variance from reality.

Les Misérables, Victor Hugo

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Victor Hugo’s epic Les Misérables is a broad examination of the lives of struggling citizens of France in the early nineteenth century, and a polemic against a society where people are so carelessly abandoned by the State. Jean Valjean, the unifying character, is a complex man whose good intentions were forced out of him during his harsh and intolerable captivity. His crime was little more than desperation to relieve the suffering of his loved ones, and his ever present determination to escape, however slim the chance of success and however high the penalty. Readers will easily be led into sympathy, and feel the hopelessness, the injustice of the legal system. He emerges with a broken soul, all ability to love seemingly crushed. His encounter with the Bishop of Digne stuns him, his kindness a sudden bright light that dazes Valjean after so many years of darkness. It is this which allows a return to empathy and encourages what becomes a life led selflessly.

Fantine, an innocent girl who places her heart with the wrong man, ends her life tragically when she finds herself pregnant and abandoned. On meeting Madame Thenardier she sees a solution to her troubles, thinking she has found a loving family to care for her beloved child, Cosette, while she works hard to support her. She suffers a double misfortune as the Thernardiers prove to be of deplorable character, only interested in what they can gain. Her workmates also prove to be unkind, causing her problems for the sake of it. She soon finds herself destitute, relying on her body to provide for the ever increasing demands of the Thernardiers. It is heartbreaking to see her resolve to suffer so much with the only comfort that her sacrifices are granting Cosette health and happiness when we see how despicably she is in truth being treated.

Valjean, now in a position of some power and wealth, comes to hear of Fantine’s story and takes on the responsibility of care for Cosette. He sees the Thernardier’s for what they are and takes Cosette away from them, making enemies in the process. Without ever explaining the reason to her, he and Cosette hide from the law, and most especially Inspector Javert, who seems incapable of understanding life beyond the confines of the law.

A whole host of characters are introduced in relation to the events surrounding Valjean and his adopted daughter. The benign Marius whose morals lead him into a life of struggle, reluctant to accept financial help, and bent on finding Monsieur Thernardier with the aim of repaying the kindness he believes was shown to his father when injured at the Battle of Waterloo. Valjean is suspicious of the young man, both for his constant fear of being followed and watched, but also for the risk of Cosette falling in love. His past life haunts him to the end.

The Thernardiers reappear many times throughout, sometimes under different guises, and we see how they treat their own beloved daughters when hard times hit. The contrast between Cosette’s life and that of the once more privileged family is stark, a fact that enrages Madame Thernardier. This contrast is made even more apparent when you realise the street urchin Gavroche is also a Thernardier, although he is left to fend for himself and seems to have avoided the undesirable family traits. He is a shining example of generosity and wisdom far beyond his years. There are few scenes more heart wrenching than his demise, and the following treatise on how easily lost children can be sucked into the city and made invisible, struggling to survive in a world that only punishes them for their attempts to be fed and sheltered.

It is impossible to do justice to the breadth of this novel in so short a space. The characters may be a little exaggerated, which can be frustrating at times, and there are many lengthy digressions (some of which have mercifully been moved to appendices in this edition) but it is a powerful story with characters you can’t help but feel for. The sheer length allows the characters to age and develop, experiencing the upheavals of attempts to revolutionise France. An historical novel when it was published, its message is no less relevant today.

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