Ivanhoe by Sir Walter Scott

Having already been introduced to Scott's novels in college, namely The Antiquary, I was a bit hesitant to begin Ivanhoe, expecting more of the same--overblown prose, historical inaccuracies, and a vague sense of self-indulgent pomposity. Ivanhoe certainly doesn't disappoint in that regard, but these same traits are actually a blessing to the narrative: the prose gives grandeur to the royal characters and the chivalric heroes, the historical inaccuracies demonstrate the pervasive and mutating nature of myths and legendary characters, and the pomposity fits right into the milieu of Norman England, a world of tournaments and dramatic favor-throwing.

The tale is relatively straightforward: Norman nobles and Saxon peasants (for the most part) coexist uneasily in England, without even the benefit of a crowned sovereign given that Richard the Lionhearted is being held prisoner by Leopold of Austria and Young John is gunning for the throne. A huge tournament held in the north-central part of the country, used as a smokescreen by John and his cronies to distract from their attempts to get John crowned, attracts a huge melting pot of characters, including a frighteningly passionate Templar, a Jewish moneylender and his astonishingly beautiful daughter, a Saxon thane and his ward, a descendant of Alfred the Great, and even Robin Hood (though sadly, no Sheriff of Nottingham). As one group manipulates another for their own gain, be it monetary or amorous, true natures are revealed and the question of loyalty to one's identity and heritage, one's country, and one's leaders are examined in great detail.

Over all, a thought-provoking and enjoyable read. Definitely one of Scott's most approachable novels.

The Fall of Rome by Michael Curtis Ford

You all know by now that I love historical fiction, but the majority of the books I read from that genre follow fictional people whose lives intersect with famous luminaries and events. The Fall of Rome dramatizes exactly what the title purports--the last legs of the Western Roman Empire in the late fifth century AD, told from the perspectives of two Hunnish men, Odoacer and his brother Onulf, sons of a general and confidant of Attila the Hun. Their lives become intertwined with that of Orestes, a Germanic aide to Attila with a Roman wife, who first betrays the Huns by stealing Attila's grave goods and then proceeds to ladder-climb his way to the top of the Roman chain of command, swapping allegiances as he pleases and managing to come out on the best side of events regardless of what happens. Odoacer and Onulf vow revenge on Orestes, and though they go their separate ways to deal with their choice, fate brings them back together and into repeated contact with their sworn enemy.

I've always had a fascination for ancient Rome, so it was thrilling to read about its fall through the eyes of its final conquerors (Odoacer became king of Italy after killing Orestes and deposing Orestes' teenage son, the last emperor of Western Rome, Romulus Augustus). Historical skirmishes and campaigns are told with careful attention to detail and accuracy, painting a vivid picture of life in the Empire as it crumbled to pieces. That being said, the level of detail may be off-putting to some readers. I found myself skimming through certain passages of conflict because they didn't hold my attention--though I'm willing to bet they would play out great on screen.

Highly recommended for Rome enthusiasts and history buffs!

The House at Riverton by Kate Morton

Having read The Forgotten Garden earlier this month and given that I loved it, I thought it a good idea to check out Kate Morton's first novel. The House at Riverton tells the story of Grace Reeves, who worked in the Riverton household as a young domestic during World War I, is in 1999 living out her last days in a nursing home. Out of the blue, a young woman directing a film about a tragedy that occurred on the house's grounds contacts her, asking for her input on the project, which conjures up strong and long-repressed memories of Grace's time as a servant at Riverton. Feeling that she ought to finally tell someone what happened the night of the tragedy, Grace begins recording a series of audio tapes that she sends to her missing grandson, hoping the tale will bring him back to his family.

In the acknowledgments and notes at the end of the novel, Morton mentions that one of her aims in writing the book was to incorporate some of the elements of the Gothic novel: the past haunting the present, as Grace's memories begin to do, making it difficult for her to distinguish what is happening and what has happened; the idea that deep family secrets must always end up uncovered; and the narrative device of flashback. Morton makes excellent use of these tropes while still maintaining a mainly linear chronology, and the story is compelling, especially as we learn that despite Grace's early belief in the order of things (namely that she is a servant and the Riverton family are above her station), she goes on to become an archaeologist and live her own life, independent of a servile identity that she had previously cultivated so carefully.

I definitely enjoyed The House at Riverton; however, it lacks somewhat the polish that The Forgotten Garden can claim, and generally has a less compelling narrative in that the main action revolves around a life of servitude. Nevertheless, the level of service and devotion demonstrated by Grace and the other servants is inspiring in its selflessness.

All in all, if you enjoy Kate Morton's style, this is a good read, and if you find historical fiction from unusual perspectives fascinating, this will also be an excellent choice.

Daughters of the Witching Hill by Mary Sharratt

Now, I'm a sucker for good historical fiction. That's why I love writers like Ann Rinaldi, who do an amazing job of integrating compelling fictional stories with historical fact and circumstance. Mary Sharratt, author of Daughters of the Witching Hill, proves to have a gift for this kind of writing. I'm also a sucker for anything set in the early colonial era, whether in America or Britain, as I find that period fascinating.

This novel, set around the time of the 1612 witch hunt in Pendle, an area in northwestern England's Lancashire, explores the life of one Elizabeth Southerns, known popularly as Mother Demdike. An illegitimate daughter of a local nobleman, Bess Southerns spends her life begging for charity from her newly Protestant (and newly stingy) fellow townspeople, while she finds herself longing for the "old religion" of Catholicism mixed with country superstition. As the narrative progresses, she discovers that she possesses a gift for blessing and healing--by using the Latin prayers of Catholicism--and becomes known as a cunning woman, the good counterpart of a medieval witch. When circumstances force Bess to choose between keeping her gift above reproach, never using it to curse, and helping the ravished daughter of a dear friend, she sets in motion a downward spiral that destroys the sense of community in her Pendle town and ultimately brings her and her family under suspicion of witchcraft.

Sharratt has that rare gift of bringing long-ago times and people to life; mimicking carefully speech peculiarities of the time and even terms of endearment common amongst these people, the novel feels as authentic as if it were Bess and her granddaughter Alizon themselves telling the tale to us from beyond the grave. Readers will quickly become accustomed to words and turns of phrase and find themselves enthralled by this gritty yet magical picture of life on the fringes of respectable medieval English society.

Reading Daughters of the Witching Hill was especially interesting when taken into account that the Pilgrims were at this very time (about 1613) preparing their exodus to the New World, where eighty years later they would have their own set of witch hunts and trials. Did the Pilgrims hear stories of the Pendle witch hunts? Or did they perhaps sympathize with James I's fear of witchcraft, as recorded in his manual on "Daemonology"? Whatever the answer, the links there are rather compelling and the common elements--including children condemning adults to hanging--certainly warrant consideration of the connection.

Highly recommended to historical fiction buffs and average readers alike.

Green Jasper / Blaze of Silver by K.M. Grant

My cousin Sherilyn recommended these books to me, parts two and three of a trilogy, and since the first book, Blood Red Horse, didn't disappoint, I was excited to read these two. The entire de Granville trilogy follows the eponymous Norman French family during the reign of Richard the Lionhearted as he gears up to take part in the Third Crusade. Sir Thomas de Granville, a widower, has two sons called Gavin and Will, as well as a ward named Eleanor or Ellie, whom both the boys have a soft spot for. As Will begins his knighthood training, he is given a great horse--albeit one that isn't quite so "great" in terms of size--a blood red horse with an uncanny ability to empathize with human feelings and to inspire those same humans all around him, whom Will names Hosanna. As the de Granville men travel with Richard to the Holy Land, Hosanna becomes a rallying point for many of the English troops, and when he is captured by Kamil, Saladin's young orphaned protege and vowed Christian killer, he does the same for the Muslim soldiers he encounters, even tempering Kamil's bloodthirsty impulses at various times. However, as the events of the Third Crusade unfold and the terrible aftermath for those abroad with Richard and those at home is realized, Hosanna's ability to help his humans through their tragedy is thoroughly tested.

These books were definitely a joy to read--well researched, immersive, and fun. Grant's style is certainly approachable and also certainly written for teens, given that these are YA novels. Those who have no interest in war or horses may find these tough to get into, but even those with only lukewarm interest in those fields should find these books a worthwhile read.