It's a little while since we've had a fiction review, and this week I've been reading The Palace of Curiosities by Rosie Garland.



The Story & Characters

The Palace of Curiosities opens with a line that is sure to already have you hooked after the rather delectable cover: 'Before I am born, my mother goes to the circus'. The first chapter is dedicated to recounting her experience in 1831 and is a heady journey of the senses as the mother revels in a rare nervous night out with the man of her desires, the release from 'ladylike' sensibilities into the braying joy of the crowd and the stink and sensation of the circus and its acts, that are equally thrilling and oddly tragic. The thrill of the circus is soon kicked into horror as an act goes wrong that will affect the mother very personally for the rest of her life.

The chapter is stand alone, but it does a good job of setting the tone for the rest of the book as we move to follow the fortunes of her daughter Eve the 'Lion-faced girl' as she seeks out her independence and belonging. In turn we follow the story of Abel, a man washed out of the mud of the Thames, confused, forgetful and groping for his memories each day. As the two are brought together Garland builds a picture of the Victorian underworld and the profitable and at times brutal world of the Freak Show.

The story moves along their lives, switching between each protagonist at an easygoing pace that shrugs off a more rigid plot in favour of creating a series of scenes and the tone of a dark fairytale. Plot certainly happens, and you are never left adrift, and this style allows you to more easily occupy the moments of each character's lives and their inner worlds as they each gradually grow out their roots and inch towards control of their own lives, purpose and a sense of belonging. The style has been compared to Angela Carter and the comparison is one I could certainly see - there is a lot in the mix of brutality and dreamy description that reminded me of Angela carter's 'the Bloody Chamber' and Eve's mentions of the story of Bluebeard throughout the book is surely not an accident. When you click into the style of writing, it's an enjoyably gothic read.

The supporting characters are all very well realised, from Abel's difficult relationship with his best friend Alfred, and Eve's conflicted relationship with her husband and freak-show owner Josiah Arroner. My personal favourite was Lizzie, the voluptous, fierce and comforting figure who took on the role of the Whore of Babylon at the performances.


Does This Work As a Historical Novel?


Since this blog is effectively one that looks at history, I couldn't finish a review here without looking at how this fares as a historical novel. For me, it's a difficult assessment to make as I don't really think that this is a particular goal of the book, nor should it really be judged on it's historical accuracy. The Carter-esque fairy story style of the book tends to creep into the languages and characteristics, and works very well to create a certain dreamy tone, but fails to create the same sharp sense of authenticity of language and character that I find in the CJ Sansom books, for example. The language, while Victorian of course, is a little too showy and flowery at times to feel authentic, though it should be said that when characters are in their darker moments and angry this improves.
That said, the book does excel in certain scenes and themes. Eve's navigation of subservience to her husband and of respectability vs her own aching sexual awakening and need for power and independence and how she classifies this within what it means to be a 'good wife' all ring very true to the time. Abel's early life living in a crowded stinking cellar as an abattoir 'slaughter-man' and his peer's contentments and frustrations at this life also paint a brilliantly real picture of slum life. A particularly raw and tragic scene with his friend Alfred and how Alfred deals with the situation also rings painfully authentic for how many men must have coped in the harsher times. Finally the Freak-Show itself and the way the audiences are written and the downtimes in the house that all the freaks occupy feel very real.

Is It Worth a Read?

All in all I enjoyed the book and the journey it took me through. For those looking for a historical novel it holds enough good scenes in it as to be attractive, so long as you slip yourself into the frame of mind of this being a fairytale story. For those looking for tight plot, instead you would do better to relax yourselves into their fairytale tone, enjoy the slow build of the characters and be taken down the story of love and belonging. Definitely worth picking up if you'd like a change.




For more posts on freak shows....

- The Human Marvels: 'Circus Freaks and Human Oddities'
- Interpretation, Taboo and Climbing Mountains: The Problem of Frieda Pushnick's Obituary

If there was one thing the Victorians were crazy for, it was a good seance.


Victorians occupied an unusual moment in history, where the scientific revolution of the 17th and 18th centuries had become professionalised and atheism, while still unusual and often distrusted, was gaining popularity. Life was hard yet - for many- more genteel than ever before, and death was romanticised while still haunting the majority of families as a danger that could strike at any moment.  The rise of the middle classes and self-made men meant that what was fashionable spread like competitive wildfire and defined how many people saw themselves in society that was increasingly critical of itself. In an uncertain world, hung between science and religion, nature and the power of man, spiritualism offered some form of compromise between the old ways and the new. The alter of spiritualism was the seance performed in a fashionable gentleman's parlour, and the grand vicar of spiritualism was the medium.

In The First Psychic Peter Lamont tells us the story of the Victorian era's most notorious medium, Daniel Dunglas Home and, through this narrative, examines all the complexities of how our ancestors (and we) witness and interpret the world around us.

Who was Daniel Home?

Daniel Home

Daniel Home was the Scottish-American son of a mother who was reported to have 'the gift' of clairvoyance and spiritual contacts. He was Christian, often sickly and effeminate in appearance, with blonde-red hair, but commanded an impressive presence when he set out on his mission to convince the world that spiritualism was truth. He conducted his 'mission' by holding regular seances for the famous and well-born of America and Victorian London. He never charged a cent and instead relied on the hospitality of his clients to keep from homelessness and quickly built up a reputation as a frighteningly talented medium. It was said that Daniel communed directly with the spirits and through them he caused tables to float and flip, instruments to play without being touched and for spirit hands to appear and interact with the audience members. But, most impressively, he was known to levitate high off the ground,even flying in and out of windows.

Naturally, plenty of people doubted Daniel and the others who followed his profession, but while his contemporaries were discovered one by one Daniel continued to perform and astound his audiences without his methods ever being found out. He made powerful enemies in Robert Browning and Charles Dickens, while utterly convincing Mrs Browning and many eminent scientists. In the meantime his wide net of acquaintances took him through the turbulent seas of poverty and wealth, even drawing him to marry a relative of the Russian tsar! Daniel polarised public opinion about one of the most controversial topics of the Victorian era.


'The First Psychic', really?

Daniel set up in one of Crook's experiments

The title of the book might be a surprise, given that soothsayers and clairvoyants are seemingly as old as time, but it perfectly encapsulates the position of this little snapshot of history. The treatment of Daniel's 'powers' by skeptics was typical of the new professionalism of the scientific method, and Daniel was famously tested by William Crookes, the scientist who famously discovered thallium. Crookes devised a series of experiments to test (and restrict) Daniel's 'powers' to determine their integrity and in doing so found that he could not disprove any of Daniel's powers. Even when in the presence of precise measuring equipment and restricted conditions the tables still moved and the accordions still played as if by ghostly hands. Having no other alternative he was forced to concede that Daniel really did have access to 'another force', a mysterious power of movement. He officially dubbed this 'psychic force' - the first use of the term - and Daniel Home became the official world's first 'psychic', sanctioned by the scientific method.
Naturally, Victorian society did not take this sitting down.


So is it worth a read?

A 1930s seance

Peter Lamont does a great job of writing in an engaging fashion in this little biopic. It took me less than 10 days to read which, for non-fiction books I typically only read in snippets at my breakfast or commute, is pretty darn good. What might have been a dry , though admittedly curious, life story in someone else's' hands actually turned out to be a well balanced well thought out piece on science, spiritualism, conjuring and the always difficult reliability of testimony. lamont reminds us that the stakes are always high, as friendships, relationships and professional reputations are built and destroyed as they orbited the controversy of spiritualism. Though showing us the remarkable life of one extraordinary man Lamont manages to tell a detailed history of the tensions victorians felt between the scientific and the spiritual, and how the various facets of private victorian societies interacted and rubbed against one another. Most importantly, lamont offers a very balanced view, not letting his own beliefs about whether Daniel's actions as a medium were real or trickery. He examines the evidence carefully as well as the counter evidence and in doing so remains remarkably without bias - a feat that previous historical writers of Daniel's life have often failed to maintain.

If you're interested in stories about remarkable people, the weird and wonderful, or the culture of fashionable Victorians, this is a book for you.


Other posts on the weird and wonderful:

- The science behind 'Bloody Mary'
- Mary Toft's Rabbit Births
- Why do so many aliens in real-life abduction stories look the same?
-Review: on Monsters and Marvels
-Running around like headless chickens



Keep in touch....

Remember, you can follow Preludes: Blog of Words us on Twitter and Facebook. Or Subscribe to us on Blogluvin' to never miss a post.

Have you ever read a book twice without realising it?

Gotta admit, it's a sexy cover

I found myself in this situation with Stephen Baxter's Time.

Perhaps already this is a sign that the review won't be a ringing endorsement by the fact that you can wander down the same plot twice without it sticking with you, and my kneejerk reaction was certainly one of frustration because of this. But in the end I found that in it's way Time was worth recommending. It led me to think about the 'hard sci-fi' genre in general, my relationship with it, and what books like these are really trying to achieve.

Digging into 'Hard Sci-fi'

I'll confess now, I'm not a 'proper' sci-fi fan. I grew up with The Next Generation and Deep Space 9 on TV: for me sci-fi has always been a vehicle for cool alien designs, exploration and character driven plots in strange surroundings. When I got older I loved Doctor Who and the playground of history and space that it offered us, and when Doctor Who declined in quality I slipped into Rick and Morty. In films I can appreciate something more dystopian, but they have to be on a firm foundation of wonder, style and adventure. All things considered, sci-fi for me if an ultimately optimistic open world wrought with unique challenges - a final frontier.

My taste in sci-fi books follows the same lines as my taste in fantasy and historical novels . I'm a sucker for good character development, and for these concepts to work and be fully realised they need to hang on an already solid plot... like a murder mystery for example (see: Altered Carbon). I want to fall in love with characters and be taken on a journey, and I want to see the strange intelligently thought out setting through a protagonist's empathetic gaze while something tangible drives the plot along. It might not be 'proper' sci-fi, but it's damned entertaining.

The trouble was - is- that so much proper 'hard' sci-fi hangs on...seemingly nothing but concept.

 The key, I think, with 'hard' sci-fi is that it's central aim is one of realistic world building, or to illustrate and interesting scientific concept. They are usually fantastically well researched, intelligent and incredibly detailed. I picked up Time at first years and years ago in a charity shop, determined to immerse myself in 'proper' sci-fi and once and for all declare myself a 'proper' geek....and I hated it. It bored me to tears, it was so stale.

'High Sci-fi' was to me what Jules Verne was to H.G.Wells: on the one 'hard' Verne side you had blueprints, on the other 'soft' Wells side you had story.

'Hark! A Vagrant' perfectly illustrates the difference.

But time marches on, as does the vague sense of guilt for not being a 'proper' geek. After reading the non-fiction book In Search of Schrodinger's Cat I thought it was high time that I tried 'hard sci-fi' again now that I had a better understanding of some of those more interesting quantum theories. Little did I know that when I picked up that sexy book cover it was the exact same book again. 

I smelled a rat when I got deja vu about hyper-intelligent squid and space sex.

The cover on my first read..not so sexy.

What is Time About?

Time tells the story of Emma Stoney ...until the book abruptly decides that the main character is actually Reid Malenfant. 

It starts off slow, taking the reader through the challenges of the Bootstrap corporation as Malenfant - a failed astronaut and maverick - works against NASA and the governments to cobble together his own funded voyage into space. Emma is his ex-wife and leads the legwork in keeping the company afloat, batting off officials who would like to pull them under as Malenfant takes greater and greater risks. One fly in the ointment in Cornelius Taine, who arrives out of the blue at Emma's door, pushing for a meeting with Malenfant to hijack his aspirations away from simple material wealth and forwards into avoiding the doom of humanity itself by interpreting messages from the future. Initially dismissed as a nutjob by Emma, he captures Malenfant's attention and takes the couple and the company on a dangerous course.

Meanwhile hyper-intelligent children are popping up all over the world, spooking their parents and the governments around them. Could they signal the end of humanity as we know it?

It's hard to talk about Time without entirely spoiling the story, especially since it doesn't pick up at all until well past the middle of the book. Suffice to say there is space travel, the concept of messages from time are explored and, in the end, Baxter puts forward a very bittersweet idea about what one of the purposes of humanity might be if we actually were alone in the universe. What it might mean if aliens don't exist? What sort of life would it be if human beings succeeded enduring all the way to the end of this empty universe?

The 'Hard Science' of Time: Does it Fare Better on a Second Readthrough?

I have to admit that, once I had gotten past the first half of the book (and the endless shuttling of Emma back and forth to meetings), I found myself rather caught up in the scientific realism of it once the action started. When the team managed to get into space Baxter describes future technologies - such as false gravity- in a realistic way, and keeps at his heart the image of space as a great ordeal full of both wonder and constant indignities. What's more the idea of using a hyper intelligent cephalopod as an astronaut was inspired, and gave us the more interesting character in the book.

Black holes are scary, yo.

When it came to describing the concept of messages from time he made a wise choice to use different characters to explain the difficult concept in different ways, with Cornelius as the expert, Emma as the practical layman, and Malenfant as the idealist somewhere in-between. In Search of Schrodinger's Cat helped me a great deal with the basics, and I think without it I would have struggled, as I did before on my first readthrough when I was younger. The bleak picture of the future it gave (before the final flourish) was one that again was helped from reading the final chapters of books like Centuries of Change, and how humanity seems doomed to slide away from the current 'golden age' and turn against itself into something more brutal and old fashioned. The Blue Children served as a decent enough catalyst and focus for this downturn, but they fundamentally didn't strike the right note as characters for me. Similarly, the whole reason for messages from the future boils down to the 'inevitability' of the 'Carter Catastrophe', which is a central concept that - while based on real theories- is one that I didn't accept in part because I couldn't convincingly wrap my head around the assumptions that they leapt to from basic (flawed?) statistics.

Finally the scientific view of the universe in the book is one that was frightening and also beautiful - massive chaos, but with fierce possibility...up until the point of hopelessness. The descriptions of how the universe itself could be mined by people in the far future has the black triumph that I appreciated in Doctor Who's Utopia episode - a triumph and yet a withering defeat. A whimper, not a bang. And this leads to the final act that again was quite a blackly impressive question: what is the purpose of human life if we are alone?

But...Was Time An Entertaining Read as a Story?

In the end, despite having read it for a second time, my first emotions at the end of the book were ones of frustration and fatigue. It took a good few days for the book to sit with me as a whole before I could come around to appreciating it for what it showed me with the science parts of the science-fiction. But the fiction parts left me cold, which is why this, for me, will always be a book that ends up off my shelf and in the donation pile.

Sheena 5. The most human character.

Emma Stoney was an interesting enough character, though we don't have much chance to actually sit in her head or see her doing much else but deal with Malenfant's crap. I like that she is independant and a capable business woman while being tied to him for reasons she understands and accepts despite her own common sense - that could have been more interesting if developed even further. But she still seems flat, being pulled along by events, initially presented as the protagonist until the book realises that Malenfant is the guy they want to haul through the sequels. Similarly Maura Della - a politician- is another strong capable woman who was actually quite well drawn out, but the way both their endings are handled seems, in my opinion, to short change them by - quite literally - treating them as fundamentally interchangeable. Also there is a theme of childlessness with the two of them that at times seems to be a decent enough avenue into a commentary on how they don't feel connected to mankind's future, but at other times comes across as a little condescending - it just doesn't quite hit the note it needs to.

Malenfant himself is on the periphery throughout most of the book, and not as charming as he needs to be as a protagonist. Though he grows on you by the time the team get into space I never found myself particularly interested in him. He's meant to be a maverick, but I found myself emphasising more with Emma's groans at the inevitable paperwork he creates rather than his ambitions. Cornelius works well enough as the shifty point of intelligence to drive the plot along that no one really trusts, but the story seems to enjoy picking on him for the sake of it. But he redeems himself more at the end - a serious injury later on had a genuine emotional resonance - while never being fully 'redeemed' into a likable character

Stephen Baxter

which...I liked.

As for side characters, the blue children were entirely unsympathetic, which was I believe the intention since we - as homo sapiens - are supposed not to trust them and to be afraid of them. But they become more irritating than real threats and some of the images used later on that are associated with them are just silly. You never get a proper closure on who they are as people and they seem to fall flat rather than being fleshed out yet still mysterious. The true star of the show was, instead, Sheena the hyper intelligent cephalopod, and - credit where credit's due - Baxter did a fantastic job of writing in a way that was both animalistic and sympathetic when her parts were in the book.

Finally the storytelling itself was bland and choppy with several little chunks under honest-to-god name headers. I understand the need to bounce around different characters' heads in a story like this, but it defeated a sense of flow and further put roadblocks in front of your developing much empathy for the characters.

So should you pick up Time and the Manifold Series?

In the end, Stephen Baxter is clearly a very intelligent man, and there are quite a few things in Time  that are well worth a look. For me, the story just didn't hit the right notes, but that could be due to my general dislike of the priorities that 'High Sci-Fi' have. For me story and characters always should come first, and in Time they're more vehicles to take the reader into various realisations of scientific ideas.

If this sounds like your cup of tea, give it a whirl. You'll certainly learn something interesting.

What do you think? Did you enjoy 'Time' if you read it?

What is your relationship with the Hard Sci-fi genre?

Keep in touch....

Remember, you can follow Preludes: Blog of Words us on Twitter and Facebook. Or Subscribe to us on Blogluvin' to never miss a post.

Stay curious!

It's not exactly a secret that quantum physics is complicated.


It's the most pioneering form of science, pulling us into a strange world of infinitesimally small particles and realities that are so out of odds with our own usual perceptions that even Einstein himself struggled with the implications. Most famously, it is a realm where, in the thought experiment of 'Schrodinger's Cat', a creature in a sealed system can be considered to be simultaneously alive and dead until we, the observers, actually open up the box and take a peek. 

I'm no scientist. I did well in my GCSEs for chemistry,physics and biology, but I'm pretty convinced that this is testament for an odd talent in studying for exams and writing essays instead of any actual ability in scientific thinking. Besides, explaining even the basics of quantum theory here is rather beyond the scope of this humble little blog. So the real question is: does In Search of Schrodinger's Cat do a good job of explaining what quantum theory is to a layman?

In short: absolutely. I picked up In Search of Schrodinger's Cat on a whim when I spotted it in Oxfam, expecting that I would be hideously confused within mere pages and bored even sooner than that. Instead it hooked me and pulled me across the following pages and chapters with all the insatiable drive of a good novel. The book is crafted so that it takes the route of a history of quantum mechanics itself, starting with how we began to build up a picture of what the atom was. By starting at the beginning and walking historically through each question,debate and discovery as it happens, the book manages to keep things at layman's terms and gradually builds up the complexity of the science involved in layers, each firmly rooted in the context of what created each idea. If you eventually find yourself confused at the complexity of the mathematical equations or experiments that Gribbin recounts he soon pulls you back into the comprehensible with his talented use of practical similes and his own genuine excitement for the subject. (For example, he likens the different energy states in different atoms to different types of crowd behaviour in rock concerts). For me, this allowed me to see the steady buildup of complexity and to marvel at the creative intelligence of the talented scientists involved, while still feeling like I had a working knowledge of what quantum theory means and how it is used, even if the more delicate nuts and bolts of theoretical physics escaped me.

And marvel I did. Quantum theory gets a bad rep due in large to it being widely represented in popular culture but not easily understood - it looks as if it's scientists fudging the maths because it looks like bloody magic. If we take the Schrodinger's cat example, how can something be both alive and dead? Why should human observation fundamentally change the universe? How can one particle millions of miles away 'know' when another one changes? What the heck is going on?
What Gribbin does with great talent is to explain all of these questions while not dismissing why people find this area so challenging. By taking you through quantum theory from the very beginning step by step, and by giving time to explore many of the arguments against many quantum theory explanations too, you are finally prepared to open your mind to the stranger aspects of that science with an informed background.When you finally perceive the true strangeness of reality as it really is, it's quite the eye opener.


It is worth noting that In Search of Schrodinger's Cat has it's limitations, namely due to it's age. The version I picked up had done the rounds: it was a 1998 version of the original 1984 print (and had seemingly done a repeated stint in the University of Queensland bookshop before finding its way to our English Oxfam). As a result, you have to acknowledge that in the last 18-32 years the field of quantum theory has moved far enough as to make some aspects of the science out of date. However the way that Gribbins hangs his book on a historical timeline, it still has great value. Nothing is missing and nothing is anachronistic, it's just that his timeline finishes with a lot of exciting questions in the 1980s, waiting for more answers. It would take a hard-hearted person not to be inspired by the closing pages.


In conclusion, In Search of Schrodinger'd Cat is an excellent book, and a must for anyone who is curious about science and would like an introduction into the weird world of quantum physics. What's more, it's even still in print with an updated version. Check it out ;)






Bonus fact:

One of the key modern figures of Quantum physics was a guy called 'Bryce DeWitt' who purported the 'many worlds' theory in direct challenge to the copenhagen theory of single-universe wave-function collapse. Is this where Booker DeWitt -the alternate reality jumping protagonist of Bioshock Infinite - got his name?
Awesome.




Keep in touch....

Remember, you can follow Preludes: Blog of Words us on Twitter and Facebook. Or Subscribe to us on Blogluvin' to never miss a post.
Stay curious!

What is the Point of History?

It's a big question, certainly, and one that people interested in the subject (and especially those funding it) have to justify day in and day out. For me, history is about seeing the consistencies and quirks of humanity as they experience gradual change, and what this change says about us as a species. Essentially: why do things change and how does it affect us? It's no surprise then that I picked up this book 'Centuries of Change' by Ian Mortimer, the talented historian behind the 'Time Traveller's Guide' series.

The book aims to answer the huge question of which century saw the most change? So often we assume it's the 20th or 21st centuries, what with their being rocketed off the back of the industrial revolution and into the space-race and silicone revolution, but is Change (as a capitalised force of nature) limited only to technological advancement? Mortimer takes the inspired approach to take each century at a time and examine what caused changes that affected the majority of society, from the lowly farmer to the grandest lord in how they lived their lives in the day to day, sweeping aside developments that - while full of bells and whistles - really affected the lifestyles of very few people dramatically. In doing so he calls into question the true significance of many of our historical heroes -(how much influence did Leonardo Da Vinci have on history really?) - while also supporting many of them in their status of vital innovators.

In the concluding chapters Mortimer tracks technological change, religious change and ideological change for each century and then finally ranks and weighs them against humanity's scale of psychological needs and freedoms. These are:
-Physiological needs 
-Security
-Law and order
-Health
-Ideology
-Community support
-Personal enrichment
-Community enrichment
By taking this approach he builds up a set of data that can be used to properly quantify just how important and wide-spanning the changes are in each century. It's an interesting approach that is certainly interesting to read.
Once he makes his final verdict he then moves on to consider what all of this means for the future of our own society, using the same rules and lessons learned to speculate that we could eventually find ourselves in a situation of reversal as resource-depletion pushes society back into either a more hierarchical nature or a disaster event comparable to the Black Death. It's grim stuff, but is certainly an interesting perspective supported by convincing evidence. In the end, he gives us a glimmer of optimism, assuring us that whatever our fate humans will always keep being humans, finding joy and creativity in our imperfect lives.

However interesting the conclusions and speculations, it is in the journey of this book where the interest lies for me. Because Mortimer walks us through each century in turn Centuries of Change is a great reference book for getting an overview on the important events of each century, boiling them down to the bare bones while still keeping a level of considered detail that really allows them to breathe. If you ever want a book you can keep referring back to when you need a little overall context for a time period, this is certainly handy to have around.

Historical fiction can really be hit and miss, but this week I'd like to show you a gem in the genre: Dissolution  by CJ Sansom.

The Plot

I picked up Dissolution as a stab in the dark because it covers what I think is one of the most fascinating events in English history - the Dissolution of the Monasteries in the sixteenth century. It was a very turbulent time, with Henry VIII's bullish religious changes following his divorce and break from the pope. In his quest for reformation (and money!) the entire ecclesiastical landscape of the country would be forever transformed under the direction of Lord Cromwell. This is the same vein of history as the considerably more famous Wolf Hall and also has Cromwell as a significant character, but in the case of dissolution the protagonist is actually his commissioner Matthew Shardlake. I admit that I couldn't get into Wolf Hall despite it's recommendations because the writing style jarred with me, so I hoped that Dissolution might keep the same interest with something more approachable. 

The story is set in 1537 and puts the dissolution of the monasteries at the forefront as Henry uses Cromwell to put in place savage new laws, a network of informants and rigged trials. These all to serve to push forwards a reformist version of Christianity that Cromwell values, and - more importantly to the king - will allow Henry VIII to sure up his power as the new 'supreme head of the church' in England and access previously catholic wealth. Cromwell picks out a loyal lawyer and enthusiastic reformist Matthew Shardlake to assist him in investigating the monastery of Scarnsea where one of Cromwell's other commissioners - Robert Singleton - was found decapitated and the alter desecrated. As winter descends around them, Shardlake finds himself as good as trapped in the monastery walls as he tries to uncover a web of murder, corruption and confusion that will force him to question everything he believes in most.

History and The Murder Mystery

Call this a personal preference, but I find when it comes to more 'hardcore' genres that rely a lot of heavy detail and world-building, that they are always the most successful when they splice into another genre that allows the pace to pick up and for the details to sit within a particular context. For example, I love me some sci-fi films, but I find pure 'hardcore' sci fi books very dull because they are so keen to show off their world-building and detail that they often forget to create a readable story. So (controversially!) I cannot stand many sci-fi classics like Dune because this seems to be all it is. However, when that genre is spliced onto a simpler and more animated genre that demands a tight plot - such as a murder mystery - it becomes a different beast. So for example the excellent Altered Carbon  by Richard K Morgan is for me a brilliant sci-fi story because it is so closely tied to a good old fashioned murder mystery: the world-building and intricate details work to a foundation of a quick moving and always relevant plotline and therefore are more effective and allow the reader a better sense of context and urgency than just hard-sci-fi alone. The same absolutely applies to historical fiction, and Dissolution proves this for me. 

Matthew Shardlake by Hazelfo

Dissolution's  plot is effectively a decent old fashioned closed-door murder mystery. By having this as a base, the intricate world-building required of authentic history is allowed to flourish without detracting from the core story and the pacing of the book. By having the history there as the world, and by including historical characters as the protagonists this becomes a unusual and interesting murder-mystery, and by including the murder mystery this becomes a brilliantly engaging piece of historical fiction that does far more than many books that would have the characters endlessly static and standing in dark rooms wittering on about old politics. Each character has an energy of purpose that carries you through.

Like all good murder mysteries Dissolution has great  pacing that knows when to ebb and flow, when to push up the action and when to allow natural paranoia to seep in. Of course it has twists, the body count is satisfying and the plot deals you quite an entertaining 'bloody hell!' reveal that is nicely foreshadowed so that it alarms you without creating incredulity. What's more, the way the murder mystery plot is handled is perfectly in sync with the time period of the setting.


The Characters

Alice Fewterer by Koppori

For me, the way that Dissolution handles the nuances, passions and controversies of the time period is really something special, and it achieves this in large part due to the quality of the characters. The fascinating thing about the sixteenth century, seen most in the dissolution of the monasteries, was how people's belief systems (and even systems of class) were challenged by the onset of the reformation. The Catholic church, which had reigned supreme for hundreds of years, was in one fell swoop cast aside by an English King supported by reformists. The reformists sought to create a purer religion by getting rid of what they saw as superstitions, corruption and laziness in the church, but to do so they were forcing people to turn their backs on traditions -such as purgatory - that they believed could literally save their immortal souls.What's more, reform asked the public to assert things that, in the past, could have had then burned at the stake as heretics. In a class system that previously demanded unfaltering obedience to the pope how could they now reject him? Yet how could they maintain loyalty to this christian power when it was now treason to do so? To make matters worse religious reform was getting more and more mixed in with greed and personal agendas: monasteries were being dissolved for their lands under pretence of religious reform, and recently the queen herself had been beheaded on false charges while Henry was wooing a new wife. It was a dangerous and confusing time and in Dissolution, each character allows us to see the personal impact of these actions by embodying the different opinions and fears of the day.

Take Shardlake, our protagonist, as an example. He is an enthusiastic reformer - perhaps naive in his belief that, by destroying the papacy and all its pomp, England will lead a new purer religion. He is therefore in awe of Cromwell and eager to please. He is ambitious and loyal, and is very much aware of how tenuous a position it is to be in 'favor' with the powerful man. He has witnessed the Queen's execution first hand and his sense of duty is very much tinged with a certain anxiety. He is, however, a kind man who is very aware of his own talents and his own weaknesses - as a hunchback he is in the end always an outsider, who only has his own wits and reputation to rely on. The grim events in the monastery throughout Dissolution will test his character to its core.


Conclusion

In conclusion, Dissolution was a fantastic read for any history fan, as the historical world of the sixteenth century was so well handled, the characters so colourful, and the murder mystery so entertaining. I'm pleased to see that this is also a series of 5 books and counting and I'm sure to be rooting out the sequels in the future. Definitely give this a look.



Interested in what else I'm reading? Got something you'd love to recommend? Then feel free check out my Goodreads account and let me know what book you can't put down today. 

Being the Head-Honcho Has Never Been Easy, and Make That Doubly So If You Were A Woman In the Past.

Often branded as 'whores', 'poisoners', 'witches' and worse, many societies in the past had a visceral distaste of women in power, and many of the same issues still face women in power today. 

A politically manoeuvring woman is so often called a 'bitch', an opinionated headstrong woman is so often a 'shrew', or 'nag'. In moments of arguments they are often infantalised - told to "calm down dear" (David Cameron to Angela Eagle), called a 'girl' (Silvio Belusconi) or a 'brave little woman' (Austin Mitchell on Margaret Thatcher). If they are dressed plainly they are painted as emasculating, ugly, dowdy and homely as if they have nothing else to contribute ("What does she want, this housewife? My balls on a tray" - Jacques Chirac on Thatcher). If they present as too conventionally 'pretty' they are not taken seriously and dubbed 'beauty queens' (Kumara Welgama to Rosy Senanayake) or criticised (as in the case of the ANC  playing fashion police in criticising South African leader Lindewe Mazibuko's outfit).They may even be subject to wolf-whistles rather than being listened to (as Cecile Deflout, the French housing minister).

Given that women in power still face these challenges today in our relatively liberal western-centric society, in the past their successes were nothing short of remarkable. In 'Women Who Ruled- History's 50 Most Remarkable Women' Claudia Gold's impressive research brings 50 of these such women into the limelight they deserve.

Claudia Gold's book is very easy to read for anyone interested in women's history without any polemics, perfect for dipping in and out of. The 50 women listed are organised chronologically.This becomes especially important when we reach the 16thc and the age of European Queens, when often the political fate of one woman's family influences the rise of another. The book is also commendable in offering a wide variety of female leaders, from the near-mythological figures of Jazebel and the Queen of Sheba, through to Eastern leaders such as Wu Hou and Roxelana, as well as the western favourites of 'Bloody' Mary and Elizabeth 1st and finally into the modern day politicians of Indira Gandhi and Margaret Thatcher. You get a real impression that the book aims not to view history through a western lens, but to celebrate and commiserate the lives and careers of as many interesting ladies as possible.

Roxelana, The Ukranian slave who became
Sultana of the Ottoman Empire

The brilliant thing about Women Who Ruled is that Gold gives us a full picture of the women in power across the many countries of the world without romanticising them.
These women did not have to be saints in order to be respected: just as we have Machiavellian kings we have viscous queens. Just as we have weak-willed and exploited kings we also have foolish and naive queens. Just as we have opportunistic lords we have conniving ladies. For some the bonds of family united them together in mutual honour and bravery, and for others the bonds of family were simply threads in a web to be manipulated and cut off at will. The characters in this work are all multi-faceted and, in the brief few pages that are granted to each, you get a real impression of the often dangerous political landscapes that they resided in, and how fickle fate could be to even the most intelligent political wrangler. Across each story, though, we see how each woman (or her family and 'allies') had to rely on their quick wits to carve out a place for themselves in societies that so often mistrusted them.

Whatever your stance on feminism as a whole, this is a very engaging and interesting book for anyone who is a fan of history. I very much recommend it.



Sources

• Top 10 sexist Moments in politics
• 10 Sexist Quotes about Margaret Thatcher
• 'Women Who Ruled- History's 50 Most Remarkable Women' By Claudia Gold