Wolf Hall, Hilary Mantel

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Mantel’s epic leads us through a turbulent period in British history, taking Thomas Cromwell as the central figure. We begin by learning about his difficult childhood before he heads to the continent and comes back well respected. There will be times when other characters try to shame him for his humble origins but he is confident in his abilities and the good standing that his work and efficiency places him in. He’s not wrong - he moves in the very highest of circles, easing the way for Henry VIII to divorce Catherine of Aragon and marry Anne Boleyn. This is undoubtedly a complex time - there’s a five page character list at the beginning of the book, which I completely forgot about after the first hundred or so pages so was relying entirely on the text of the novel to keep myself oriented. Thankfully, I wasn’t coming to the period fresh, if you’re new to the story you’ll probably find yourself flicking back and forth a lot.

Cromwell doesn’t have the best reputation in history but Mantel attempts to humanise him here. His difficult family life as a child and the death of his wife and daughters early in the novel allow us a glimpse of a softer side. Here we see Cromwell grieving, and are reminded just how much the threat of death weighed on everyone at the time. If you were lucky enough to survive or avoid contagious diseases, the constant changing of religious preferences of the monarchy meant that you were at risk of execution, and for women of course, death through childbirth. We see throughout that those unwilling to shift their beliefs in line with the current preference from above are punished. Some of the most harrowing and evocative passages are the descriptions of executions. 

We see the fallout of the King’s desire to divorce and remarry and the struggle of those in positions of power to shift their mindset to protect their lives. We hear much about Anne and Henry’s relationship and the rumours around the fading love and lust between them when her first child is not a boy. Knowing how their story ends, you feel for Anne. We see how love and politics intertwine and the negotiations that created this infamous story. We witness also how family are discarded when not seen as useful, and the jealousy of the new queen of anyone connected to her predecessor. It’s a difficult world for their unfortunate offspring to grow up in.

An aspect that I also found interesting was the brief but moving examinations of how some of the characters responded to their impending deaths. We see one choose to accept his fate when offered the opportunity to escape, others going to their end relatively oblivious. What is clear throughout is that your fortunes can change on a whim, and those who feel comfortable in their positions can very easily fall from grace. 

Despite the often serious nature of the content of the book it is littered with little humorous moments, as well as very human ones. Cromwell’s reaction to Holbein’s portrait of him, in which he is described as looking like a murderer, sets him on a short self-reflection, in which he realises he is more vain than previously thought. An interesting read, it’s quite dense and yet reads smoothly. Tackling such famous figures in fiction is no mean feat, and although not everyone will agree with Mantel’s interpretation of some of the characters, it is clearly well researched yet avoids feeling heavy.

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Upon A Frosted Star, M.A. Kuzniar

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Forster, a young aspiring artist who is estranged from his family, is spending his birthday with his flatmate and close friend Marvin and Rose when they discover invitations to the most eagerly anticipated party of the year. At a manor nestled deep in the woods in Wurthercliffe, these parties are full of extravagant luxuries and magic. The hostess is a mysterious ballerina whose name nobody knows. Inevitably, Forster falls for her and it is not long before he realises she is living a cursed life, condemned to spending most of her days in the form of a swan, snowfall releasing her back to her human form. The main story takes place in the 1920s but we have forays into a time a decade earlier where Detta is finding her way as a star ballerina in Rothbart’s intriguing company. Their performances are what we would now call immersive, with magical interventions bringing the stories to life. It’s not all fun and games however, the dancers are for the most part afraid of Rothbart and we see Detta struggle with the knowledge she should leave yet her ambition keeps her dancing for him, not wanting to have to build back up to principal dancer elsewhere. Knowing what her future holds, you long for her to leave but know that she won’t. Will Forster’s love for her be enough to undo the curse?

Taking Swan Lake as its inspiration, this novel explores familiar characters, building them new stories. Detta loses her family in a tragic accident, which she narrowly avoids herself. Taking the opportunity to build a new life she goes in search of her dancing dreams. She works hard and excels, but is always unsettled by Rothbart’s presence. He is controlling - the dancers all have to live together under his roof, and when they’re on tour they are not allowed to speak to others outside the company. Dancers go missing regularly with no explanation, and Detta is aware of him lurking outside her bedroom door at night. She fears for her safety, and he becomes more dangerous as time passes. The magic tricks he includes in his shows he keeps from the dancers until the first performance, allowing their reactions to be genuine, but more than that, he seems to enjoy their terror which is increasingly the response to his ever more elaborate creations. There is one particularly painful scene to read when Detta goes looking for a missing dancer who she was close to. We as the reader know that Rothbart has murdered her in front of Detta but she is completely unaware, as well as the implications of his actions for her own future. Rothbart is largely absent from the 1920s sections of the novel, with Forster’s main purpose to be to try and find him and convince him to free Detta from his curse. The earlier passages are important to build up his character and the reader’s feelings about his actions. Otherwise he would merely be an absent enemy without much for the reader to engage with.

Forster is a young adult trying to find his way. His father has recently died and the cruel words spoken by his mother haunt his days. Living in London with Marvin he has found a new family, but the pain of his blood ties linger. His artwork has not made any great waves, and although he has an art dealer representing him he hasn’t produced anything very special. All this changes when he attends his first party at Wurthercliffe. Enchanted by Detta and the fantasy world she weaves with her parties, he paints canvas after canvas inspired by her and the art world responds positively. His main purpose however is to stay devoted to Detta, and, in the months where snow is no longer possible, to go in search of Rothbart. This lag in time for each step of the story to progress does mean there are times where you feel not much has happened for a while, but that you’re enjoying the experience nonetheless.

In Forster we see two great passions. The way his experience of creativity is described brings to life the drive artists have to create, and the pain of not being able to accomplish the vision in your mind. His other great passion, of course, is Detta. Their relationship is sweet if predictable. He tries to be faithful to what she wants to share with him, yet finds himself at times trying to find out more than she has disclosed. He accepts the reality of magic and a woman who spends most of her time living as a swan very easily. The pain at their separation and the desperation for the snow to fall, bringing her return to him, are realistically drawn and you do feel for them. We don’t fully understand what the time passing is like for Detta however. At times it seems she has no thought of her human life while in swan form, yet she also seems to continue to be drawn to Forster, suggesting there is some lingering recognition. 

The 1920s setting is fairly incidental for the most part. When Forster spends some time in Paris and we are reminded of the period he is living through and the great creatives populating Europe at the time it feels surprising. The story doesn’t feel rooted in the 1920s, and certainly the descriptions of his artwork do not sound as though he is influenced by the art movements making waves at the time. Kuzniar’s writing does not feel particularly natural, possibly as an attempt to write and have the characters speak as she imagines people did in the 20s. The result is that you’re very aware that you’re reading somebody’s writing, you don’t lose yourself in the world and conversations. In saying that, I did enjoy the book as a whole and found it to be a page turner at times, especially in the latter sections as Forster drew closer to Rothbart. There are interesting themes around aspirations and accomplishments, the drama and difficulty of young adult friendships which feel as important as family, and indeed the tricky navigation of relationships with parents as you grow and develop your own views and desires. Overall, an atmospheric, magical tale that’s great to read during the colder months.

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City of Wonders, Eduardo Mendoza (translated by Nick Caistor)

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The year is 1887 and a young Onofre Bouvila has just arrived in Barcelona with enough money in his pocket to pay for one week of rent. He needs to find a job quickly or risk being thrown out onto the streets. As the city prepares for its first World Fair there are more opportunities, and he soon finds himself handing out anarchist leaflets to workers, surprising himself by how convincing he can be on a topic he’s only just learnt about. We watch as his star rises through immoral means. The city is on the cusp of huge expansion, and he takes advantage of this to make his fortune. It is an interesting period not just for Barcelona but for Europe more widely as new inventions such as cinema and flying machines come to the fore, bewildering and beguiling audiences. We learn a lot about the history of Barcelona throughout the novel, and Onofre’s story feels very rooted in reality. 

In the early chapters Onofre is somewhat sympathetic, a young man eager to work and build a life for himself, but as the novel progresses you don’t particularly root for him. There is so much detail about the political and economic landscape that his story feels almost lost in it. To begin with I enjoyed these diversions, but some were less engaging and became a distraction. His behaviour is not often admirable and sympathy for him wanes as the novel progresses, with only moments here and there where he captures the reader’s heart once more.

Onofre’s approach to romantic relationships also leaves something to be desired. His infatuation as a young man is probably one of the times where you feel most connected to him, but ultimately he takes what he wants and leaves women with experiences that change them for life seemingly without a second thought on his part. One of the women in his life becomes central to his work in the film industry, but her relationship with him does not seem to serve her well, and his attraction to her fades quickly. Ultimately he is a man who goes after what he wants without too much thought to the consequences for others.

I had really been looking forward to reading this book, and although I did enjoy the historic detail, to a point, it didn’t grip me. If you enjoy books that show the whole sweep of a life, protagonists without much of a moral compass, and a solid dose of contextual information, this might be the book for you. Sadly, it didn’t quite hit the mark for me.

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The Mad Women’s Ball, Victoria Mas (translated by Frank Wynne)

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‘The Salpêtrière is a dumping ground for women who disturb the peace. An asylum for those whose sensitivities do not tally with what is expected of them. A prison for women guilty of possessing an opinion.’

Nineteenth century Paris, and the inmates of the infamous Salpêtrière asylum are eagerly preparing for the Lenten Ball, a highlight of Paris’ social calendar. Wealthy citizens covet tickets to this event, a chance to enter the asylum and see the ‘madwomen’, each hoping to see them have a fit, to require treatment. For the women it is a chance to dress up, to mix with the elite, to dream of a life outside the walls of the asylum. Outside of the preparations for the ball we see how the women are treated day to day. Dr. Charcot has allegedly made conditions better for them, but they are still wheeled out in front of roomfuls of men to demonstrate their hysteria and his treatments, sometimes with quite ghastly outcomes. A particular favourite is Louise, locked up after having been raped by a man who was meant to be caring for her, she is pretty and compliant. She looks forward to the ball, believing her love will release her from her confinement.  Eugénie is the asylum’s newest resident, locked up by her brother and father for having admitted to her grandmother that she can see and hear ghosts. Intelligent and stubborn, the staff comment that she does not demonstrate signs of madness, but once admitted it is hard to ever escape. Geneviève is a long-standing member of staff, there to look after the women. Eugénie’s arrival blows up her carefully created life, with consequences that will impact the rest of her life.

Throughout we are reminded that it is men who hold the power. In the vast majority of cases it is male relatives who bring the patients in, often simply because the women have become  inconvenient. It soon becomes clear that it is the men who have behaved badly and the women who suffer doubly as a result. There are chilling scenes where characters see their loved ones turn on them, the coldness in their gaze demonstrating that they will never see them as a full human again, all affection drained. The ease with which they will condemn them to a life of imprisonment and experimentation is truly disturbing, and more so as this fiction is rooted in fact. The women are always in a vulnerable position. They live their lives with the threat of committal hanging over them if they step out of line. Once committed they are treated as spectacles to be enjoyed. Men watch dispassionately as they are triggered into hysteria, are hypnotised, as their bodies are abused in the name of science. The reader feels the powerlessness. This is further emphasised by the fact some of the women prefer to stay, feeling safer inside than in the cruel world outside the gates, not that they are likely to ever have the choice to leave.

None of their stories are happy ones. Geneviève has created a stable life for herself but she is wracked by grief at the loss of her sister, who she continues to write letters to long after her passing. She rarely sees her father, and although she has a vaguely kind relationship with the women, she is in a position of power over them. She advocates for them and tries to keep them safe but she is the one who delivers them to Charcot and the other doctors. Louise’s story is tragic. She retains some youthful optimism and dreams of a different life, yet the world repeatedly punishes her for this. There are devastating scenes where her complete vulnerability is abused, and you are furious at the men who have wronged her throughout her young life. Eugénie’s story is one of betrayal. She is curious and strong-willed, hoping to join a group looking in to spiritualism before she is incarcerated. The asylum attempts to break her will - she arrives strong and angry but soon fades. Her ‘gift’ of speaking to the dead is not one she ever asked for but she tries to use the knowledge it gives her for good. The world does not want to allow it. 

This is an interesting book which inspires further research into the grisly history of the Salpêtrière. It will both make you sad for the women who lived under such a regime, but also consider the state of gender politics today. Some of the techniques may have moved on, but the power imbalance and attempts at control are all too familiar. Mixing fact with fiction, Mas shines a light on a dark aspect of history. She explores the position of women in nineteenth century France, medicine on the cusp of the invention of psychology, and the sense of sisterhood among those living within the asylum. Family dynamics and obligation are vital, with a distinct lack of care shown to many of these young women. Atmospheric, upsetting, and endlessly intriguing.

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Voyager, Diana Gabaldon

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This is a review of book three in the Outlander series. This review may therefore contain some spoilers for earlier novels in the series.

In this third book in the Outlander series, readers are thrown back into the world of Jamie and Claire, separated by hundreds of years, but holding on to the love they have for each other. As the novel develops the focus shifts into a high seas adventure, with pirates, shipwreck, and some supernatural goings on to keep the reader hooked. We meet new characters, catch up with old ones, and watch as Jamie and Claire come to know each other again.

We learnt at the end of book two that Jamie Fraser hadn’t died at Culloden as planned, and Voyager take us to the battlefield to find out exactly what happened. The narrative is then split between the eighteenth and twentieth centuries, Jamie’s escape from slaughter and imprisonment, and Claire’s attempt to find out what happened to him, Brianna coming to terms with the idea of a father lost to her in the past. Covering twenty years in half a book, even in one of this length, means we get the highlights (or, indeed, lowlights, as they often seem to be) but Gabaldon weaves the tale carefully, giving us enough to understand the shifts in character, the choices they were forced to make, their trials and successes. Jamie has by no means had an easy life, for one, he was determined to die at Culloden, and the thought that his beloved wife has travelled away, alive but unreachable, is unbearable. As seems his natural role in life, he frequently becomes a leader in any group he finds himself in. Men look to him for guidance, and his skills, enhanced by some modern knowledge passed on by Claire, helps them through months of malnutrition and suffering. His role as leader also brings him closer to Lord John Grey, with whom he builds a friendship, bonding over the game of chess. This friendship will prove useful many times throughout the course of the novel, and likely beyond. After years of strife and hard work, he settles in Edinburgh as a printer, with a side hustle in printing pamphlets that would get him arrested, and in smuggling, he is never one for a simple life. 

We see Claire both with her grown-up daughter and in flashbacks of her life with Frank after returning through the stones. Their marriage was never a happy one after their period of separation, Frank was not faithful, but would not leave her and Brianna, who he loved dearly. He struggled to understand her desire to train as a doctor, but when it came to it, would support her in her ambitions. We see Claire struggle with motherhood and with her grief over losing Jamie, loving him desperately while married to another, who just so happens to disturbingly resemble a cruel ancestor they had far too many altercations with in the past. The interacting lives and loves between Jamie, Claire, and Frank is one of the most interesting aspects of the series so far, and this book really allows us to delve deep into the mechanics of it. Ultimately, the tale of Claire and Frank is a tragic one, sacrificed at the altar of her love for Jamie. Bringing her back to the modern day, when they have finally pinpointed Jamie and discovered that he might still be alive if Claire travelled back, she has a heartbreaking decision to make - remain separated from her soulmate, or leave her daughter, most likely permanently.

The fact there are six more books in the series after this one would suggest the answer is she chooses Jamie, but this is not without its complications. For all she knows, he could be happily married with a new family, she might not travel back to the right time, or she might not be able to find him. The risk is not insignificant, and having been apart for two decades they have a lot of catching up to do. We do drop right into the action but Gabaldon returns time and again to the fact they need to get to know each other again, to fall in love with the people they have become. Their love is as all consuming as it’s ever been, and Jamie is soon reminded what it’s like to have a wife who constantly seems to find herself in difficult situations, but they don’t fall back to where they were when she left. They have to come to terms with what they’ve done in the interim.

The second half of the novel focuses more on their travels by sea in an attempt to rescue their nephew Ian. Jamie continues to suffer from extreme seasickness and you feel as the reader the claustrophobia of life at sea, willing the journey to go faster so that he can be back on solid ground. This becomes quite a complex part of the novel, with many changes of location, other ships, and new characters introduced. Claire and Jamie are temporarily separated again, and when they come back together they discover an old adversary who seems to have nefarious plans for their family. We are also confronted with the reality of the slave trade, in full swing at this point in history. Claire is naturally horrified but soon realises that her actions, albeit with good intentions, only make those enslaved suffer more. 

An enjoyable read, but with such a huge expanse that the first half almost feels like a completely separate book. There are some uncomfortable racial stereotypes included, and an odd obsession with the expanded weight of one returning character, which is unnecessary, but overall it feels like Gabaldon is growing in her confidence and skills. The action comes quick and fast and as soon as the characters extricate themselves from one sticky situation they seem to find themselves in another. There is further discussion of the mechanics of time travel in the Outlander universe, and a fun theory on how it has helped with the legend of the Loch Ness monster. An engaging read full of emotion, peril, and some swashbuckling adventure. 

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Just One Damned Thing After Another, Jodi Taylor

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Welcome to St. Mary’s Institute of Historical Research, where history is explored in a very real way. But don’t mention time travel, they don’t like that. Dr Maxwell is our guide to this eccentric world where she is put through her paces to become a qualified historian before being able to go on real ‘jumps’, travelling to different events in history to find out what really happened. Shrouded in mystery, the real activities of St. Mary’s are obscured, but everyone knows them for their constant mishaps while they experiment. The historians have a high attrition rate, and it becomes abundantly clear why from the very first mission the new cohort of historians go on. Even if they manage to survive, all jumps end with a trip to the sick bay. As numbers dwindle Max is forced to rely on her partner Sussman, an unpopular character with the rest of the crew. When they are sent on the biggest mission yet, three months in the Cretaceous period, she has to put her faith in him completely. 

The staff at St. Mary’s are quirky and mostly friendly, always up for a challenge, and easily distracted. Living and working together, it’s only natural that romances emerge, making the loses all the harder to bear. Max and a colleague fall hard for each other, and when they finally let their feelings free it is explosive. All these feelings inevitably lead to jealousies and competition, and some certainly hold a grudge. It was slightly unexpected to find a romance you really get behind in this light-hearted historical fantasy, but Taylor pulls it off smoothly.

The time travel happens via pods which transport them back in time, always hoping they don’t land at the bottom of the ocean or in the middle of a mountain. They are incredibly careful not to leave any trace, any signs of modernity, or to bring back anything not from their own time. This means they spend a lot of time documenting what they find. The adventures keep coming as Max whizzes through the twentieth century, ancient Egypt, the Middle Ages, and the Cretaceous period. As soon as one peril is survived we’re on to the next. They’re not all completely disparate events though, an overarching story emerges as we begin to understand the very real threat to St. Mary’s, and history as we know it. Each jump tells us a little more about the other characters, giving us clues as to who Max can trust and who she definitely shouldn’t. 

This is a hugely fun read that I devoured quickly. Taylor manages to mix light hearted comedy and farcical situations with emotional depth, peril, and gender dynamics. It has a little bit for every taste. You might have questions about the time travel but we’re encouraged not to probe. History itself has agency and tries to prevent actions by the historians where they might interfere with the natural course of events, a fact that seems to be forgotten in some of the later activities. The final mission felt a little superfluous, the book could easily have ended a plot point earlier, but I imagine it went some way in setting up the following books in the series. Overall a great read with headstrong, likeable characters whose stories leave plenty open for more exploration in later books. 

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The Blackbirds of St. Giles, Lila Cain

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

It’s 1768 and the enslaved people on the Garnett Plantation in Jamaica have had enough, it’s time to seek their revenge and escape a life of misery. This dramatic opening gives glimpses of the horrors that have been experienced, some truly bone chilling. The main focus however, is setting up the relationships between the characters we will follow for the next nearly five hundred pages, and to give an understanding of their history. Thirteen years later we meet Daniel and Pearl again, in New York. Friends with the wealthy Fitzallens, they have made a good life for themselves. When they head to London they discover that not all members of the family are as good hearted, and James Fitzallen is set up as the villain of the piece, one that will make your blood boil. Sadly, their reception in London generally is one of threat and distrust, and the life they had hoped for soon proves itself out of their reach. A young woman, Jen, meets them in a moment of need and suggests they make their home in the St. Giles Rookery, a place where the desperate find some shelter and companionship, ruled over by the dangerous Elias. 

Their life there is challenging and Daniel smarts with the injustice of how their fortunes have turned once again. His desire to keep Pearl safe means he feels compelled to agree to Elias’ demands and soon finds himself in a position where he needs to betray those who have been good to him. You do really feel for Daniel to begin with but he doesn’t always make the best decisions, and he is far from in control of his emotions, treating those who are looking out for him badly. He tries to control Pearl despite her being a young adult, and although this is clearly rooted in love, he doesn’t seem to learn that explaining his reasoning would help people get on board with his ideas. Pearl is a companion character, we see her development only through Daniel’s eyes and through her rebellions against him.

The community they find in the rookery, those willing to put themselves on the line for others, and groups fighting for change is a strong one, but not without its conflicts. There is no love for Elias among his ‘subjects’ but fear keeps them loyal. With the new arrivals on the scene, some believe change is on the horizon. Daniel is resistant to power, but his successes in the ring show how much the community need a hero, and he might not have much choice in playing the role.

This is a book that doesn’t shy away from the hardships experienced by many in the eighteenth century. It explores the experience of people of colour living in London during a time where slavery was still rife, where any run in with the law could have you shipped off in chains. It is horrifying, and we are shown how it traps people in situations they might otherwise have a chance of escaping. There are moments where you become deeply invested in the characters, but for a lot of the book they feel fairly surface level and predictable. Elias is undoubtedly a character with a wicked core, but we don’t quite see enough of him to really feel the hatred that the other characters do. James Fitzallen is absent throughout most of the book, and although he does reappear, constantly working to undermine the life Daniel is building, he is ephemeral and so we don’t experience the emotions of their conflict as strongly as it seemed we would when first introduced. Another character from the past makes a reappearance in the latter parts of the book, and although they add a bit of extra difficulty, and the opportunity to reveal a secret, again they don’t make that much of an impact. The ideas are good but the story progresses much as you would expect and it all feels a little too neat, moments that are designed to be high tension lack drama because you feel certain of the outcome. 

Most of the characters are fictional but the situations are rooted in history, shining a light on a part of London’s Georgian history that has largely been ignored. Daniel and Pearl’s story might be atypical in its conclusion, but the struggle is very real. This is an accessible introduction to this history, and one which evokes the surroundings and struggle of people at all stages of life vividly. It also highlights the normalcy of the presence of people of colour in London in this period - running pubs, shop owners, etc, a reality that is often skipped in historical fiction.

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The Clockwork Girl, Anna Mazzola

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It’s 1750 and the people of Paris are experiencing a freezing winter. Madeleine lives with her mother, nephew, and sister in the Rue Thévenot, an insalubrious area of the city. Their father having died some years before, their mother set up a brothel, using her daughters’ innocence to tempt early customers. Véronique has just returned to Paris from a convent in which she was deeply unhappy. She is struggling to adjust to life back in the city and to re-connect with her father, Doctor Reinhart, who she desperately wants to impress so that he will train her to be a clockmaker, a career not widely considered acceptable for a woman. When Madeleine is coerced into becoming a police spy at the Reinhart household the two young women connect. They may have been born into very situations but there is shared pain and an understanding of the limitations they live under because of their sex. When children start disappearing from the streets, rumours abound that they are being taken for nefarious uses. Riots break out on the streets but the police seem to have very little interest. Will Madeleine get to the bottom of it, and does Reinhart’s secret commission for the King have something to do with it? A dark tale unfolds with many twists and turns along the way, leaving you feeling as Madeleine does, that you’re never quite sure of who you can trust.

Mazzola carefully builds the world of the novel, transporting the reader to the dark, cold world of eighteenth century Paris. Even the halls of Versailles, held up as a place of extravagance and luxury, are given a realistic portrayal - the smells, the intrigue, and boredom of those who inhabit it. The Reinhart household feels unwelcoming, the master having been alone with his experiments for too long. It offers the hope of escape for Madeleine but she’s uncomfortable in her role and unsure of what she’ll find. Her home has long been dangerous, her mother seeing all her daughters as a means to an end rather than showing them affection and concern. It is clear that experience has shown Madeleine that money will always come first and she wants desperately to take her nephew away from such a dangerous, cold environment.

Véronique is an interesting character. Her mother died in childbirth and she was sent to a convent for schooling. The scars from that time continue to haunt her, but she is intelligent and strong-willed although slightly unsure of herself. When she hears of the vanishing children she is keen to help discover what is causing the disappearances. Madeleine begins to show her the darker parts of Paris and she does not shy away from them, willing to look beyond her own experiences and understand that not everyone has been born with the privileges she has. They begin to feel genuine friendship kindle, but will it be able to survive Madeleine’s deceit, and Véronique’s secrets?

A recurring theme throughout is the class divide and power imbalances. The police prove themselves to be untrustworthy and willing to do anything to get what they want, even if it means destroying innocent lives. They are corrupt and not above intimidation, as Madeleine soon discovers, but the levels of depravity are shocking. The missing children also highlight how the poorer members of society are viewed, the police not considering their loss worth investigating, making them easy targets for criminals as they know they’re unlikely to be investigated. The Reinharts also own an enslaved person, Joseph, who appears to be treated fairly well by the Doctor, but who makes it clear to Madeleine that he and his loved ones have suffered a great deal. One of the first children to go missing is an enslaved boy, and it is made abundantly clear that this was not a coincidence, that the perpetrator knew the authorities wouldn’t bat an eyelid. On the flip side, we see in Madame de Pompadour the effort required to leave behind any slight stains on the family history, and how much work it takes to maintain a position of privilege. There are always those out to benefit from your downfall, and even being the King’s mistress is an incredibly uncertain position. 

This is a book which keeps you turning the pages. Mazzola seamlessly combines real characters from history, and uses, for example, Louis XV’s interest in clockwork to build a story which is appropriate to the time and believable. The atmosphere of the novel is often dark and unsettling but with intriguing characters and a mystery that keeps you guessing, it is an enjoyable reading experience. Fans of The Doll Factory or The Winter Garden will love this.

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The Confessions of Frannie Langton, Sara Collins

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Frannie Langton is born into slavery on a plantation ironically named Paradise. There she witnesses extreme cruelty. She learns to read, and as a result is forced to help Langton with his experiments, the horrors of which haunt her throughout. The plantation burns down and she is taken to London where legally she is free but Langton nonetheless gifts her to his rival Mr Benham. We know from the start that she is on trial for the murder of Mr and Mrs Benham and this colours the way we watch their relationship develop. She sees how unhappy Mrs Benham is in her marriage and as they grow closer a physical attraction develops. She is judged by the other servants in the household, and the two of them descend into opium addiction, yet it is a cruel turn of fate orchestrated by Mr Benham that seems likely to push them both over the edge. 

The circumstances of the murder are hazy. Frannie doesn’t remember what happened, and the witnesses pointing fingers are basing their assumptions on circumstantial evidence and prejudice. Frannie’s confessions are her opportunity to give voice to her life. She resents the people who take on the role of white saviours, revelling in hearing tales of suffering, making money from the misery of others. She wants her life to be understood fully, not to be mere entertainment, a way for people to feel better about themselves. Her writing is passionate and engrossing. Her life has undoubtedly been difficult, the people around her treating her terribly, but she is so much more than what has been done to her. 

She is not used to receiving affection. Growing up not knowing who her mother is, after the loss of another slave in the house at Paradise, Langton becomes her closest acquaintance. His experiments aim to prove that people of colour are not human as a way of justifying slavery and ill-treatment. He sees that Frannie is intelligent and in private speaks to her with some degree of respect, but as soon as he is in the company of white men she is treated as invisible. The fact he gifts her to Benham shows that he never really saw her as anything more than a possession he could use to his own advantage. She is left with a feeling of confusion, of temporary sorrow at his exit from her life. The lingering emotion however is guilt, shame at what they did together, an inability to absolve herself of responsibility for the actions she was forced to perform. There is a sense that she is willing to take the blame for a murder she may not have committed as punishment for the evil deeds she’d witnessed and been forced to participate in.

The women in the houses where she lives are unhappy and bored, a very dangerous circumstance for those who serve them. They have no love for their husbands and take steps to try to avoid pregnancy, taking what little control they can. Mrs Benham is forced to perform her role as a good wife and hostess even when she is suffering, and Mr Benham’s attempts to save face descend into cruelty. Frannie sees this and feels for the woman she has come to care for deeply. Their relationship is a difficult one, and far from being equal. When Frannie finds herself alone she realises how little opportunity there is for women of colour to even buy themselves a drink, let alone find work that doesn’t involve satisfying the sexual whims of wealthy men.

Her life is hard and full of suffering, disappointment, and rejection, yet she is defiant. She knows that she is capable and intelligent and will do what she must to survive. Her confessions are powerful. Langton and Benham are fictional characters but their actions reflect experiments that were carried out around this period. A haunting, disturbing book. Well written and with characters that feel real, this is an impressive debut. 

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