Welcome to the first installment of the new feature, A Monthly Dose of Vitamin C. As I mentioned in yesterday's post, as I read my way through the massive list of Orange Prize nominated novels, I'll pause once a month to talk about one or two here.
For the inaugural review I thought I'd begin with two books by Jane Harris. Her first novel, The Observations, was on the short list for the prize in 2007 and her most recent novel, Gillespie and I was on the long list this year.
Somehow the latter ended up on my radar screen last fall. I had a scrap of a review with a picture of the book jacket in a pile of papers I was sorting through and was intrigued enough to pre-order the Kindle edition from Amazon. I'm always tearing out pictures or write ups about books and putting them on my desk where they get lost in the never ending pile of paper that spreads like the blob until I make it my mission to vanquish it, which admittedly isn't very often.
Around the same time, I heard The Observations mentioned on a BBC podcast where the commentator was talking about novels with interesting narrators. I made a point to look for it on my next trip to the library, which was a few minutes later as I was listening to the podcast on a walk in the park and stopped at the library on the way home.
The interesting narrator of The Observations is Betty Buckley, a precocious Irish lass who, on her way to Edinburgh, makes a detour that interrupts her plans and changes her life. Set in 1863, Betty is fifteen years old and not only well educated in the ways of the world, but she can also read and write, thanks to the wealthy "benefactor" (wink wink) she'd been living with in Glasgow. This ability lands her a job as a scullery maid for the Reid family at Castle Haivers, which is more subsistence farm than grand family home. After happening upon the farm in the hopes of seeing a real castle, Betty is offered a job by its mistress, Lady Arabella, who hires her on the condition she keep a journal recording her experiences and feelings about her time in service.
Betty, who is far more intelligent than anyone gives her credit for, soon realizes what's going on behind the benevolent facade of her new employer, and decides to turn the tables on her mistress so that Arabella unknowingly becomes the manipulated rather than the manipulator. The plan for revenge soon spins out of control with dire consequences, as Betty's past comes back to haunt her just as the events at her new home reach their climax. Despite her actions, I couldn't help but like and trust Betty. Her worldly cynicism born of an unspeakable childhood doesn't dampen her spirit. She has unexpected moments of compassion and tenderness and her quick wit and sharp sense of humor carry the reader through some of the darker moments in the novel.
Harriet Baxter, the narrator of Gillespie and I, is in many ways a contrast to Betty. A well to do spinster, Harriet at first seems to be one of those typical serious Victorian do-gooder heroines. I say seems to be because there comes a turning point in the story where the reader starts to question not only the story Harriet has related thus far, but also Harriet herself.
Gillespie and I is Harriet's account of her relationship with her "friend and soul mate," doomed artist Ned Gillespie. It's a tale that begins with a chance encounter and moment of chivalry and ends with the disintegration of Ned's family and Harriet's arrest and subsequent trial, although if you want to know what she's accused of, you'll have to read the book. Alternating between twentieth century Bloomsbury and late nineteenth century Glasgow, the first part of Harriet's tale is innocent enough but when voices other than Harriet's start to creep into the narrative through the witnesses at the trial the real mystery begins to unfold.
I don't want to give anything away because it's such a great story. Suffice to say, if ever a character in a novel should be wearing this t-shirt, it would be Harriet.
Unreliable Narrator t-shirt from the Literary Gift Company |
No comments:
Post a Comment