Monday, 16 December 2024

ADVENT BOOKS week 2 - revisiting some of our favourites from the last 8 years


Which have you read? Tell us in the comments!

Advent Books Week 2 brings more of our favourite books and reviews. Several of our regular contributors appear here - huge thanks to them and to everyone who sends us their recommendations. There are certainly some great reads here - which have you read, and what's your view? Tell us in the comments!

 


Reviewed by Rachel Morris: "Beautifully written, moves at pace, surges with a bitter poignancy and is laced with a very particular kind of magical realism. It is also strangely defiant and often very funny ... Gardam’s dialogue is to die for – supple, expressive, often startling. She can turn the direction of a story on a sixpence. (Oh, you think quite suddenly, so that’s where this is going.) She has a transfiguring talent, can flood a scene with an ecstatic strangeness, can turn the ordinary world momentarily into something glorious."



Reviewed by Judith Allnatt: "One of Tremain’s great strengths is that she looks unflinchingly at human darkness whilst still maintaining a feeling of authorial empathy and understanding. As did Trespass, The Road Home and The Gustav Sonata, this novel moved me to tears – it is heartrending, compassionate and brilliant."



Reviewed by Jon Appleton: "You could say the book is about Danny Conroy, a man who knowingly allows himself to become the ‘project’ of two strong-willed, passionate women – first of all Maeve and later his wife Celeste. Who, if anyone, is at fault in such a scenario when things don’t work out? (That’s not much of a spoiler, I promise you) ... It’s perhaps her best book but quite likely only till the next one. She’s that kind of writer." (Tom Lake has followed ... also reviewed by Jon.)



Reviewed by Katherine Langrish: "As I reached the end I realised that the writer with whose work I’m most drawn to compare The Golden Rule is Daphne du Maurier. She too told strong stories with strong characters in strong, often Cornish settings: her books live and are loved. Du Maurier has sometimes been belittled as a Gothic novelist, though why ‘Gothic’ should be regarded as in any way derogatory I do not know: frankly what was good enough for Charlotte and Emily Bronte ought to be good enough for anyone. Richly textured, modern, contemporary, literary, The Golden Rule  treads confidently in their footsteps."


Reviewed by Cindy Jefferies: "So who is the master here? Both men inhabit these pages. Characters, whether real or imagined must dance to the writer’s tune. James was a man of the mind, and Tóibín inhabits that mind to stunning effect. No one can truly know what thoughts inhabit the corners of another’s brain, but Tóibín is impressive at conjuring what might have been there."



Reviewed by Penny Dolan: "I read with a growing sense of solutions slowly arriving and wrongs steadily being gloriously righted. All in all, Lessons in Chemistry was a delight and one that made me feel better and stronger for having read it and met such a heroine, which is surely a good thing in a story, especially these days."



Reviewed by Anne Cassidy: "Maggie O’Farrell weaves such a wonderful story from these scant facts that I ended up feeling that I definitely knew more about Shakespeare than I had at the beginning. I wanted his life to have been like this. But while O’Farrell’s plot is convincing it’s the language she uses that sets her work above the ordinary. Of the tutor’s lesson and his two unwilling students she says, “They look towards him, plants turning to the sun. He smiles at their soft, unformed faces, pale as unrisen dough in the light from the window.” A wonderful book which I have thought about over and over since reading it."

Monday, 9 December 2024

ADVENT BOOKS Week 1: revisiting some of our favourites from the last 8 years

 


 Thank you, as ever, to our many contributors - we couldn't possibly do this without you!

During the lead-up to Christmas, we're posting Advent Books - revisiting some of our favourite reviews and books from more than eight years of Writers Review. These can be found daily on Instagram @WritersReview, FacebookTwitter @WritersReview1 and we're now on Bluesky too: @writersreview.bsky.social.

Hope you'll enjoy them and find some great new reads or old favourites to enjoy. Here are the choices from the first week. Thank you, as ever, to our many contributors - we couldn't possibly do this without you!



Reviewed by Linda Newbery: - our very first post! "Chevalier's ability to present historical events as if they're unfolding in front of us gives startling impact to the characters' bafflement at the 'monster' fossils Mary finds, seen through the lens of nineteenth-century religious belief..."



Reviewed by Adele Geras: "Although at first sight it’s a very simple story, its construction is enormously intricate and the words are put together with such finesse that you don’t realise what skill has gone into the plotting and how brilliantly each revelation is brought to your attention."



Celia answers questions from Adele and Linda:  "There is a definite magic in that first moment when the ideas begin to swarm together ..."



Reviewed by Nick Manns: "An exhilarating book ... open-minded, big-hearted and generous ... Paul Broks has a light touch and is able to guide us through a complex world."




Reviewed by Marcus Berkmann:   "In my opinion, one of the greatest post-war novels of them all, far ahead of anything else that Kazuo has written and liable (if it so moves you) to stay in your head for months if not years after you have finished it."




Reviewed by Yvonne Coppard: "From the tiny amount of information recorded about Lucrezia (Borgia), O’Farrell creates a novel full of tension and suspense."



Reviewed by Graeme Fife: "Du Maurier weaves a careful web of intrigue, the threads of which she untangles with great dexterity. This is adroitly worked mystery and suspense."

Monday, 2 December 2024

SPECIAL FEATURE: Q&A with Jane Rogers about her new short story collection, FIRE-READY

 


"In fiction you can test things out and examine both sides of a question. I write to explore."

Photograph by Linda Newbery
Jane Rogers has written ten novels, plus radio drama and stories. Her subject matter ranges from the past to the present to the distant future. Prizes include the Arthur C Clarke Award, the Somerset Maugham Award and the Writers Guild Best Fiction Book Award. Jane’s new collection of short stories, Fire-Ready, was published by Comma Press this November. 

Jane teaches writing at all levels, currently running workshops for MsLexia and mentoring for Gold Dust. Find out more from her website. Here she answers questions from Linda Newbery.

Linda: First, congratulations on publishing your second collection of short stories, following Hitting Trees with Sticks (2012). In between, you’ve written two novels and several radio dramas and adaptations, including Clear Light of Day, a dramatisation of Anita Desai’s novel which was broadcast this summer on BBC Radio 4. What draws you to the short story form?

Jane: Thanks Linda. I think of myself really as a novelist, and I find the short story form extremely challenging. Very occasionally there's an idea which presents itself immediately as a short story (like the title story of Hitting Trees with Sticks), and that is great. But more often, it’s a question of endless revision and cutting and battling to actually locate the story in the mass of ideas and words of a first draft. As a reader, I used to think stories were slightly inferior to novels; then I read Alice Munro, and I realised that a really well-crafted story can contain as much as a novel, if the writer is skilful enough. But it is a different craft from writing a novel. I suppose I have written in lots of different forms; radio, TV, adaptation, novel and short story – I quite like a challenge! At the end of the day, I tend to feel more confident about my novels than my stories.

(By the way, off topic, I know many people now disapprove of Alice Munro so strongly that they have stopped reading her. Yes, it seems she behaved badly in her personal life. But quite frankly, if we stopped reading authors who have behaved badly – well, as King Lear says, Who shall ’scape whipping?)

L: One striking thing about this collection, and of your novels too, is the range of subjects and genres you cover. Here we move from the present to the near and more distant future; some stories could be classed as sci-fi, cli-fi (climate fiction) or even veer towards horror (Clearances) while others are tender explorations of domestic life and relationships, one of which, Treasure, I suspect comes from your own experience with a grandchild. A thread that links them is the struggle of ordinary people to find purpose in life, to make space for themselves, to appreciate everyday pleasures. Some are bound by duty or by the restrictions of lockdown; in more than one, the birth or prospect of a baby offers hope and a glimpse of uncomplicated innocence.

How did this collection come about? I see that several have been published before, while most are new. How did the idea of a new compilation come to you? Fire-Ready is the title story – was that always your choice of title, and does it suggest a unifying theme?

J: It’s a good question, and to begin with I couldn’t really figure out if this was a collection or not. I certainly didn’t sit down to write a collection – the stories have accumulated over years, and I was not able to find many common themes between them. My editor, Ra Page, was helpful here, because he identified four interlinked themes; the climate emergency, activism, and aging and relationships with children. Together we eliminated the weakest stories, and he suggested I write an additional cli-fi story, to even out the balance. So I have spent most of my writing time for the past 4 months working on the opening story, Hope. 

I was surprised when I realised how many are about parents (or a single parent) and children, but then I realised that in fact that is a central theme in several of my novels.

And re the title – I hope it does suggest a unifying theme. The term is actually used in Australian government warnings about bushfires. Farms in the path of fires have to be made ‘fire-ready’, that is to say, with sprinklers on the roof, shutters, reserves of water, an underground spot where important documents can be securely left, and so on. And more generally, characters in some of the other stories are trying to make their homes or lives ‘fire-ready’, in the sense that they know they will be tested.

L: For one of your Writers Review contributions, you chose Amitav Ghosh’s The Great Derangement, in which he asks: ‘What is it about climate change that the mention of it should lead to banishment from the preserves of serious fiction?’ In the eight years since his book’s publication, that’s changed, with books such as The Overstory, Orbital and The Deluge featuring on shortlists. But still, fiction that portrays the climate emergency in the context of ordinary present-day lives seems rare. Some of your stories do just that – Fire-Ready, set in Australia, sees Kayla preparing for the very real threat of wildfire, while others look at likely changes to society and adaptations in our behaviour. Climate concerns run through this collection but without dominating – did you feel that the balance between bleakness and hope was important?

J: Like many people, I am haunted by the climate emergency, and the thought of the devastated world we are leaving to our descendants. I set out to write a novel on the topic, soon after reading The Great Derangement. To begin with I read as much future fiction as I could find, and quickly realised that novels which simply focus on a very bleak future are simultaneously depressing and rather preachy. There are a lot; I could give you a list of titles not to read, but that would be cruel! Two which deal with the topic much more imaginatively are Bewilderment by Richard Powers, and The Ministry for the Future by Kim Stanley Robinson. Both highly recommended. There’s no point in writing doom and gloom, everyone knows it and it doesn’t make anything better. I don’t think I was trying to create a balance between bleakness and hope (though I am glad if that’s the effect!) I think I was trying to examine specific situations through the minds and experiences of my characters. Human beings are wonderfully adaptable, so that even in bleak situations, hope and joy can be found. For example, in Hope, the child Kara who has been evacuated from a no-longer-viable Earth, is thrilled by the sight of distant stars and galaxies in deep space. As individuals, we feel pleasure as well as pain, and good writing describes individual experiences which are universally recognisable.

L: The hope in many of the stories comes through a kind of epiphany, and I love the way you show these – not in any flash-of-light sense but more a kind of quiet acceptance, especially for your older characters. More than one of these is faced with a rearrangement of their life following release from the duty of care to a relative or partner – situations I feel sure will resonate with many readers.

J: Yes, there’s quite a lot about growing older – I guess the topic is on my mind, now I’m in my eighth decade! Again, I’m interested in the pleasure, or relief, of letting things go in older age – as well as the grieving for the past. ‘Letting things go’ is probably the story I am most pleased with, because I was afraid readers might find it quite mad that my protagonist can happily lose himself for hours in sounds from the distant past; but so far the responses have been very positive.

L: There’s humour too, in Weeping Beech and in The DNA of Bats. You must have given a lot of thought to the ordering of the stories?

J: Ha. Indeed. And since I carefully ordered them, they have been re-ordered so many times by my editor that I honestly can’t tell if it works or not. Readers will have to let me know!

L: I want to ask about the final story, The Night Before, without giving too much away. Anyone who’s campaigned (as we both have) with Extinction Rebellion has been told, in connection with roadblocks etc, “I like what you do but not the way you’re going about it”. But what actually does make the kind of difference needed to confront the climate emergency? Your character here, Szandra, is on the brink of doing something most activists would (fortunately) baulk at – but can such an action be justified? She’s questioning herself about that, right up to the abrupt shock of the ending. Can you tell us how this story took shape?

J: It began as a ‘What if?’ What if you were asked to do something which is really dangerous, which will have tragic consequences, in the service of a cause in which you believe passionately? I love the fact that you can explore an idea in a story, test it out, see how far you can go. I have been asked if I agree with or condemn the characters’ plan in that story. And the answer is, neither. That’s not the point. Any more than I agree with or condemn Jessie Lamb’s action, in my novel of that name. The point is to honestly explore an idea, an action, the potential consequences. In fiction you can test things out and examine both sides of a question. I write to explore.

L: More generally, how does a short story idea come to you? Does it arrive in your head complete, as it were – I mean the shape of it, the point? Or do you discover that through writing?

J: It really varies, from story to story. That’s one of the maddening things about writing, isn’t it? It never gets any easier, you have to re-invent the wheel each time. I usually have a sense of what’s at the heart of the story, but how to reach that, or, as you put it, ‘the shape of it’ – that is something I have to work out as I go along.Weeping Beech, for example; my idea was for a tree surgeon who couldn’t bear to fell a beautiful tree. So he was conflicted. Gradually, as I worked on it, the conflict became externalised, and his opponent became, not his own appreciation of the tree, but a retired parks and gardens employee who knows all the old trees in the town. Other characters came in to take sides, and I was pleased (especially with the nosy neighbour!) because the story became funnier.

L. The reader learns to adapt quickly to each new story: learning not only about the characters and their relationships but about where we are in time, how society has changed and how new rules and conventions dominate their lives. You’re adept at conveying these things without overwhelming the reader. Does beginning a short story feel very different from beginning a novel?

J: You have to establish the world of the story very quickly – so yes, that is a difference. In a novel the reader is usually content to be drip-fed information that builds a picture of the novel’s world, and in fact, in a novel, that slow release of information can be part of the suspense. What’s fascinating is how little the reader needs, to understand they are in a different time and place. And that’s something I’ve learned through cutting my stories. For example, in Daytrip to Glastonbury, the opening paragraph describes the coach journey towards Glastonbury along recognisable A roads. But the coach stops at Wells. ‘From Wells the only way was by boat.’ Suddenly the reader is transported to a future where swathes of the country are underwater. No date or backstory is needed.

L. You’ve done a great deal of tuition and mentoring, at Sheffield Hallam and with Mslexia, Faber Academy and Oxford University Department of Continuing Education. What advice do you give to students about writing short stories?

J: Well, I could give you the outline of the five-day short story course I’m going to teach for Faber Academy in the new year . . . But that might be a bit much! I guess the single most important thing is CUT. It is amazing how much you can cut out of a story, and how every cut seems to improve it. All the cliches are true; Get in late, get out early. Cut adverbs. Strip down adjectives. Make every word work. I think short story as a craft is closer to poetry than it is to novel.

L. Finally, what are you working on now?

J: A novel! And it’s only tangentially about the climate emergency.

Thanks for your thoughtful questions, they have really made me focus on the stories and why I wrote them.

Fire-Ready is published by Comma Press.



Monday, 25 November 2024

Guest review by Cathy Cassidy: THE BEE STING by Paul Murray

 


"Raw and messy, sometimes ugly and frightening, sometimes funny, happy, heartwarming and heartbreaking."

Cathy Cassidy
is a children's author, writing mainly for the teen and pre-teen market. She has written over 30 books and been published across the world. Before this, she worked as an illustrator, an art teacher, a journalist for legendary teen mag Jackie and an agony aunt. These days, when not reading or writing, she makes bespoke keepsake ragdolls and wanders along the shoreline with her rescue lurcher in tow... Find out more from Cathy's website.


My daughter-in-law, the only person I know who reads more obsessively than I do, challenged me to write something down about every book I read in 2024. Always up for a challenge, I promised I would. I've read new and secondhand books; books from the library and from book exchanges; books given by friends, bought in supermarkets, train stations, charity shops. It's been interesting ... a patchwork of gripping or throwaway thrillers, children's books, music memoir, nature, history, biography. All of that, plus a few genuinely beautiful novels that have left an imprint on my heart.
 
The Bee Sting by Paul Murray is one of those. On the surface, it's the story of a family falling apart in small town Ireland... but it's also innovative, beautifully written and wonderfully nuanced. It hooked me in at once, then went on to push past the boundaries and break all the rules. Do not expect a linear plot, reliable viewpoint or a clearcut ending. Instead, you will get to see inside the heads and the hearts of the characters as scene after scene unfolds, as if written in invisible ink on sheets of tissue paper that pile up, overlap, build the story from many different angles.

At times this all feels like a messy, glorious tangle of threads; whenever the author pulls those threads together, they tangle all over again. Gradually, in spite of this, the story comes into focus and the threads unravel to form a perfectly woven whole. The ending infuriated and broke me ... it made me hope for one thing, then delivered the opposite ... maybe! It stopped short of spelling things out or tying up the loose ends, and I'm grateful for that, for the sliver of hope I could still hang onto.

The Bee Sting made me question what a novel actually is ... how it isn't just the story of the characters, but our own story too. I haven't felt so emotionally connected to a book for a long time. I was enchanted by a make-your-own-rules writing style that felt so authentic, so real, it made me want to throw out every single thing I've ever learned about writing and start again from scratch. The Bee Sting is raw and messy, sometimes ugly and frightening, sometimes funny, happy, heartwarming and heartbreaking. It offers moments of real awe and wonder.

A good book can make you feel that you're on the point of understanding something big, something important and life-changing ... about yourself or about humanity. The Bee Sting did that for me. We read to understand ourselves and others, to live a different life, just for a while, and this novel created a world so achingly real I know I won't ever forget it.

My daughter-in-law said I'd love this book, and as usual, she was right. After reading, I realised Paul Murray was also the author of Skippy Dies, a powerful YA I read ten or twelve years ago ... The Bee Sting is even better. I've loved this reading challenge and the booky dialogue it has opened up... on the recommendations of friends, I've discovered new authors and amazing books, and my to-read pile just keeps growing. The Bee Sting was book 107 ... but I'm not finished yet!

The Bee Sting is published by Penguin.

Monday, 18 November 2024

Guest review by Linda Sargent: ALL THE BEAUTY IN THE WORLD by Patrick Bringley

 


"A truly life-affirming book full of riches to be savoured ... I loved it."

Linda Sargent
is a writer who worked as a publisher’s reader for David Fickling Books for twenty years. She has published short stories and articles and her first novel, Paper Wings, appeared in 2010; she is also the author of Words and Wings, a training guide to creative reminiscence work, available as a free download from her website. Over the past few years, she has been working along with Joe Brady and Leo Marcell, on the graphic novel Tosh's Island, published in October.

In Elizabeth Jennings’ poem, Into the Hour, she writes, “Grief’s surgery is over”, going on to use what may seem a surprising phrase of reaching “the time when grief begins to flower” and how through this process “Grief finds its good way home”. This book on dealing with profound loss, epitomises so many aspects of the poem. When Patrick’s brother, Tom, at twenty-six and just two years older than him, dies it is (unsurprisingly) a shattering blow. In the immediate aftermath, visiting an art gallery with his mother, the author, young and making his way upwards already on the ladder of the New Yorker magazine, experiences a sudden, profound echo of the atmosphere spent during his time by his brother’s hospital bed, “one of speechless mystery, beauty and pain” (p.31). And there he makes a decision to retreat into a calmer and, as it transpires, more healing and sustaining space for himself.

He leaves the New Yorker and gets a job as a Museum Guard at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York. Here, over ten years, he meditates on the many works of art held there, from the huge collection of ancient and classical works, paintings, sculptures and treasures from across the world, to more modern pieces, including quilts and furniture. And he takes us, the readers into this world along with him, giving us a chance to explore the pieces in a deeper and more meaningful way. It’s an open way too, he doesn’t preach, he shares. As well as his exploration and linking of art, life and the patterns of grief, the author also forms bonds and friendships in the community of other guards at the Met, a diverse and fascinating group. During this period, Patrick marries and now has two children and these biographical moments are expertly and lightly threaded through. Mostly, it focuses on the importance of having time to reflect, really reflect, on the way art and beauty can provide support during periods of struggle and grief. He manages to bring home the way even the greatest of art can function on this inclusively human level, at one point observing that in the end “all art is local”. He also talks about the “simplicity of stillness” amongst all this art, but adds: “…it is also about the head-down work of living and struggling and growing and creating”. Indeed. A truly life-affirming book full of riches to be savoured and I loved it.

There are illustrations in every chapter by Maya McMahon referencing some of the pieces he mentions. And at the end there is a comprehensive list and links to all the works of art mentioned.

All the Beauty in the World is published by Vintage.

Linda's graphic novel Tosh's Island, with Joe Brady and Leon Marcell, is published by David Fickling Books.


More of Linda's choices:



The Orchardist by Amanda Coplin


The Buried Giant by Kazuo Ishiguro

    



Monday, 11 November 2024

Guest post by Leslie Wilson: ELIZABETH HEYRICK - THE MAKING OF AN ANTI-SLAVERY CAMPAIGNER by Jocelyn Robson

 


"She wrote in language which is still relevant, if not to the abolition of slavery, certainly to our attitude to the climate crisis."

Leslie Wilson is the author of two novels for adults and three for young adults. Last Train from Kummersdorf was shortlisted for the Guardian Children's Fiction Prize and the Branford Boase Award; Saving Rafael was nominated for the Carnegie Medal and Highly Commended for the Southern Schools Book Award. The first two deal with Nazi Germany: The War’s Not Over Yet is published as a Kindle e-book and is set at the time of the Russian blockade of Berlin in 1948. Leslie Wilson is half German, was brought up bilingual, and has spent considerable amounts of time in Germany.

1809: A forty year-old woman hears of a bull-baiting that is to take place in Bonsall, in Derbyshire. Appalled, she gets herself to Matlock, two and a half miles distant, tries to get local dignitaries to stop the event. They refuse. By the time she gets back to Bonsall the bull is already tied, and the dogs about to be released. The crowd has been drinking for hours; bets have already been placed. The woman speaks to the crowd, appealing to them to give up their entertainment. She has no success. So she tries something else. She manages to find out who is the bull’s owner and buys the animal from him. The bull is saved. 

In carrying out this action, Elizabeth Heyrick transgressed against the approved behaviour of women at this period; she shouldn’t have been at such an event at all, let alone interfering with the pleasures of men. The story demonstrates her courage and determination, which was to be further manifested through the rest of her life.

She was born in 1769, into a middle-class, dissenting family with radical tendencies. Attractive and elegant, she fell in love with John Heyrick, a descendent of the poet Robert Herrick, and married him at the age of nineteen. The marriage turned out badly. Heyrick, though idealistic, was also a gambler and had a violent, unstable temperament, for which Elizabeth blamed herself, though her family blamed her husband (her brother even challenged Heyrick to a duel because of his treatment of his wife, but nothing came of it).  They spent several periods apart and there were no children. In 1797, she came back from church to find him dead on the floor from a fatal heart attack.

This dreadful shock precipitated her into a period of depression and self-starvation, but she had a supportive family, no financial troubles (though she donated her Army widow’s pension to charity), and a circle of engaged, intelligent female friends, some of whom were Quakers. Though she continued to suffer depression, she found a role in life: campaigning for the oppressed.

Heyrick herself became a Quaker in 1807 (two years before she prevented the bull-baiting) and also probably taught for a while in a Quaker school for girls in York. Quakers were then in what is known as the ‘quietist’ period, and it was rare at this stage for outsiders to become convinced, so Elizabeth was exceptional in this respect also. However, quietism must not be understood as inactivity. Though Quakers had owned slaves in the past, and many of them through their business activities had been connected with the profits of slavery, uneasiness about slavery grew throughout the eighteenth century and in 1772, the American anti-slavery campaigner John Woolman had convinced the London Yearly Meeting of Quakers to include an abolitionist statement in the Epistle which was sent out to British Quakers after that national meeting. Subsequently many British Quakers became dedicated anti-slavery activists, and briefed campaigners such as William Wilberforce.

Women were also permitted to minister during the silent Meeting for Worship, and many of them (including two of Heyrick’s friends) were ‘recorded’ as ministers, which doesn’t mean that they became paid ministers or led the Quaker meeting; simply that they were recognised to have a calling to stand up and speak in the largely silent Meeting. Though women did play a subsidiary role within the Society of Friends, they nevertheless had far more opportunity to speak and be heard than in many other denominations; certainly more than the Church of England, which did not allow women to speak at all. For a woman like Heyrick, the Society of Friends could be seen as a natural home.

She became the author of eleven hard-hitting pamphlets; against animal cruelty, against social injustice in Britain, and against slavery (these all written in the 1820s).

The slave trade was abolished in the same year that Elizabeth became a Quaker, but chattel slavery was not. It was argued that if the trade was abolished, slave owners would be kinder to their enslaved workers, and even that abolition would come about gradually (Heyrick regarded this idea as propaganda on the part of the planters, who were certainly good at protecting their interests). She wrote in language which is still relevant, if not to the abolition of slavery, certainly to our attitude to the climate crisis.

‘The slave-holder knew very well, that his prey would be secure, as long as the abolitionists could be cajoled into a demand for gradual instead of immediate abolition. He knew very well, that the contemplation of a gradual emancipation, would beget a gradual indifference to emancipation itself. He knew very well, that even the wise and the good may, by habit and familiarity, be brought to endure and tolerate almost any thing.’

She was never a woman to pull punches. She wrote: ‘We that hear, and read, and approve, and applaud the powerful appeals, the irrefragible arguments against the Slave Trade, and against slavery, - are we ourselves sincere, or hypocritical? Are we the true friends of justice, or do we only cant about it? – To which party do we really belong,’ – to the friends of emancipation, or of perpetual slavery? Every individual belongs to one party or the other; not speculatively, or professionally merely, but practically. The perpetuation of slavery in our West Indian colonies ... is a question in which we are all implicated.’

During the 1820s, women became increasingly active in the campaign to abolish slavery, and formed their own societies, in which Elizabeth was active. Her pamphlets were, of course, read by the members of these societies. One of the issues which particularly concerned them was the sexual abuse of enslaved women; ‘moral degradation’  was the word used; it was of its time, but everyone knew what it meant. ‘I have known them gratify their brutal passions,’ the freed man Olaudah Equiano writes about the white captors, ‘with females not ten years old.’  

Meanwhile, the national Anti-Slavery Society, with its male membership, was still sticking to the aim of gradual abolition. Eventually, the women had enough.  Prior to the Gentlemen’s Anti-Slavery Society’s annual meeting, they said they would donate £50 (equivalent to around £3,300 today) to that society if they were willing to give up their use of the word ‘gradual’ in their aims. The women’s contribution to the outcome was never (are we surprised?) mentioned, but the society did indeed give up the word ‘gradual’, in spite of objections from William Wilberforce.

 Elizabeth died in 1831, before the 1833 Act was passed which abolished slavery in all British dominions. She would have been outraged at the payment of compensation to the plantation and slave owners, a sum which has only recently been paid off by British taxpayers, but which has enriched many a British family. ‘The slave has a right to his liberty,’ she wrote, ‘a right which it is a crime to withhold – let the consequences to the planters be what they may.’

 Exceptionally among white anti-slavery campaigners, Elizabeth Heyrick regarded the enslaved people as equals, regardless of skin colour.  She defended the uprisings against the planters, regarding them as justified; she denounced floggings and cruel punishments, both in the West Indies and in Britain. She spoke out for a decent living wage for the working classes. Through careful research and an exciting access to a preserved archive, Jocelyn Robson has opened up for us the life of an extraordinary and precious woman. She is to be congratulated.

Elizabeth Heyrick: the making of an anti-slavery campaigner is published by Pen and Sword History.


Photograph by Corinne Lambert

Recently, sculptor Corinne Lambert was commissioned to make this piece, Abolition (Remembering Elizabeth Heyrick) which is now in the permanent collection at Leicester Museum and Art Gallery. The presentation was covered by BBC Leicester - read the piece here. 

Monday, 28 October 2024

Guest review by Fiona Mountain: THIS THING OF DARKNESS by Harry Thompson

 


"An immense, brave, tragic and hauntingly profound story, richly told. I honestly believe it’s one of the best historical novels ever written."

Photograph by Hugh Dickens
Fiona Mountain
is an award-winning novelist. Her debut novel, Isabella, tells the haunting love story of Bounty mutineer Fletcher Christian and his cousin, Isabella Curwen, and was shortlisted for the Romantic Novel of the Year Award. It was followed with Pale as the Dead and Bloodline, which combine history with mystery and feature 'ancestor detective', Natasha Blake. Bloodline is the winner of an Edgar Award from the Mystery Writers of America. Fiona grew up in Sheffield and moved to London aged eighteen, where she worked for the BBC for ten years. She now lives in the Cotswolds with her family.


This is historical fiction at its finest; a based-on-fact novel with gripping, page-turning pace which at the same time engenders a fascination for its subject that is sure to send readers hunting out biographies to find out more about the real life protagonists and events surrounding them.

This Thing of Darkness recounts the legendary, world-changing voyage of HMS Beagle, shining the spotlight on the brilliant young captain, Robert FitzRoy, whose fate has been obscured by his famous passenger, Charles Darwin.

FitzRoy and Darwin were intellectual equals and it’s the deep friendship they shared which drives the novel and provides the source of conflict as the two friends turn into enemies, their ideological differences slowly tearing them them apart, leading one to great acclaim and the other to tragedy. The two men disagree over God’s creation and as Darwin grows in stature, FitzRoy slowly and painfully fades under the burden of his traditional morality and practical responsibilities. This Thing of Darkness is a thrilling seafaring adventure which fans of Patrick O'Brian will appreciate. As the Beagle sails around the Pacific there is plenty of violence and danger and storms at sea. But fundamentally it’s a novel about ideas and relationships.

Harry Thompson achieved success as a writer of comedy at the BBC: one of his credits being the creation of Have I got News For You. This is his only novel, written a few months before his untimely death, aged 45. It was long-listed for the Man Booker Prize and it’s a phenomenal achievement and legacy. The breadth and depth of the research is incredible, immersing readers in the life on board a ship on a voyage of discovery. The characterisation, the complexity of the debates and the sheer power of the story arc is sublime, and as all the best historical fiction should do, it makes you question thoughts and beliefs and look at the world and your place in it with fresh eyes. It teaches you and leaves you wanting to learn more.

An enigmatic figure, the fourth great-grandson of Charles I, Robert Fitzroy was a man ahead of his time. He believed in equal rights for those who, in Victorian drawing rooms, were considered to be savages. I was fascinated to learn that he’s the father of meteorology. He showed how storms can be predicted and he began telegraphing shipping forecasts and installing storm warning systems which saved countless lives at sea, but his work was delayed in England because ship owners lost money when their boats didn’t go out because of the forecasts.

The theory that was borne on The Beagle led to Darwin losing his belief in God. Emotionally fragile, Robert FitzRoy, a secret manic-depressive, eventually lost his life to suicide.

This is an immense, brave, tragic and hauntingly profound story, richly told. I honestly believe it’s one of the best historical novels ever written.

This Thing of Darkness is published by Headline Review.