The Essex Serpent

The Essex Serpent by Sarah Perry

Waterstones Book of the Year 2016

Sunday Times number one bestseller

Shortlisted for Costa Book Award

iTunes Book of the Year 2016

Longlisted for the Dylan Thomas prize 2017

Longlisted for the Walter Scott Prize 2017

Longlisted for the Wellcome Book Prize 2017

Longlisted for the Baileys Women's Prize for Fiction 2017

Shortlisted for the Independent Bookshop Week Book Award 2017

British Book Awards Book of the Year 2017 (Fiction and Overall)

What Amazon says:

An exquisitely talented young British author makes her American debut with this rapturously acclaimed historical novel, set in late nineteenth-century England, about an intellectually minded young widow, a pious vicar, and a rumored mythical serpent that explores questions about science and religion, skepticism, and faith, independence and love.

When Cora Seaborne’s brilliant, domineering husband dies, she steps into her new life as a widow with as much relief as sadness: her marriage was not a happy one. Wed at nineteen, this woman of exceptional intelligence and curiosity was ill-suited for the role of society wife. Seeking refuge in fresh air and open space in the wake of the funeral, Cora leaves London for a visit to coastal Essex, accompanied by her inquisitive and obsessive eleven-year old son, Francis, and the boy’s nanny, Martha, her fiercely protective friend.

While admiring the sites, Cora learns of an intriguing rumor that has arisen further up the estuary, of a fearsome creature said to roam the marshes claiming human lives. After nearly 300 years, the mythical Essex Serpent is said to have returned, taking the life of a young man on New Year’s Eve. A keen amateur naturalist with no patience for religion or superstition, Cora is immediately enthralled, and certain that what the local people think is a magical sea beast may be a previously undiscovered species. Eager to investigate, she is introduced to local vicar William Ransome. Will, too, is suspicious of the rumors. But unlike Cora, this man of faith is convinced the rumors are caused by moral panic, a flight from true belief.

These seeming opposites who agree on nothing soon find themselves inexorably drawn together and torn apart—an intense relationship that will change both of their lives in ways entirely unexpected.

Hailed by Sarah Waters as "a work of great intelligence and charm, by a hugely talented author," The Essex Serpent is "irresistible . . . you can feel the influences of Mary Shelley, Bram Stoker, Wilkie Collins, Charles Dickens, and Hilary Mantel channeled by Perry in some sort of Victorian séance. This is the best new novel I’ve read in years" (Daily Telegraph).

What I thought:
This is my kind of book, before I even comment on the text it is for me a Pandora's Box of mysterious and murky things, of marvels of nature: mosses, fungi, serpents, parasites, tapeworms, fossils, toadstones, amber, blue seaglass and my personal favourites blue wing feathers of Jay and, of course, Leviathan and then a lexicon of brooding terminology:  decay, putrescence, blackness, miasma, mud, tuberculosis and then there are the things that go wrong, the sheep that is stuck on the saltings, the child that is lost, the young man who is stabbed, Luke's loss of manual dexterity even the jam which does not set. There is much that is strange. I try to find some sense of joy in the pages of Perry's book but even the intimate scenes between the characters are recounted in a gladless style.  What is to like then?  Firstly there is such texture in the narrative, in all those objects both natural and artefactual which are referred to time and again.  Visually appealing, curious and also tactile.  And the settings, the east end of London and the flat coastal landscape of Essex where the land grades into the sea over extensive saltmarshes.  I know saltings well and enjoy walking by them, they have an idiosyncratic fauna and flora and are 'dangerous' to encroach on. Made all the more treacherous by the tides - my familiars as they reveal and then hide their natural curiosities in an endless cycle of highs and lows.

And as for the writing even before I read Sarah Perry's Wikipedia profile I knew that I was in the presence of a writer who is very comfortable in Gothic style and a probably a Victorian born out of her time. She says as much on her own profile page, by inclination and upbringing. She has a PhD in creative writing from Royal Holloway University where her supervisor was Sir Andrew Motion. Her doctoral thesis was on the Gothic in the writing of Iris Murdoch. There are several relationships between the characters in the book and they are all uneasy, that between Will and Cora, drawn together by mutual attraction yet differing profoundly in their spiritual beliefs and always the figure of Stella between a symbol of potential guilt. And Cora herself, a contrary and manipulative woman I found her to be, what did others think?. I could write an essay on her alone...... And finally the book is themed by the serpent who threads its way through the book, the ancient legend, the carving on the end of a pew, the optical illusions of some of the characters, the beached corpse, a medical symbol and always the serpent of original sin, temptation. So this was very much a book for me, and thank you for choosing it.

Postscript - all the way through I found myself wondering just what the serpent would prove to be.  When it transpired to be a 20 foot fish with a single fin running along its dorsum I looked up conger eel and moray eel but even the maximum size for the latter would not work for the giant of Perry's imagining.  In the end I found an answer, the oarfish:

This is what I believe the rotting sea serpent to be:

https://www.google.co.uk/search?q=oarfish&client=safari&hl=en-gb&prmd=ivn&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwjntbGpkNfZAhUmCcAKHcvbBxoQ_AUIECgB&biw=1024&bih=672

Of Hares and Unicorns: folklore and myth

The hare (Lepus europaeus) appears in English folklore in the saying "as mad as a March hare". 

Here we are on the second day of March having just enjoyed the gift of an extra day in this 'leap' year.   The legend of the White Hare tells of a witch who takes the form of a white hare and goes out

looking for prey at night, or of the spirit of a broken-hearted maiden who cannot rest and who haunts her unfaithful lover.  The mythical Unicorn is white too.  It is a legendary animal of European

folklore, often depicted as a white horse-like or goat-like animal with a long horn and cloven hooves and sometimes a goat's beard - but not lady unicorns surely?  In the Middle Ages and Renaissance it was commonly described as an extremely wild woodland creature, a symbol of purity and grace, which could only be captured by a virgin. In encyclopedias you will read that its horn was said to have the power to render poisoned water potable and to heal sickness. In Medieval and Renaissance times, the tusk of the narwhal was sometimes sold as unicorn horn.

Why all this hares and unicorns?  As it happens I have just read two delightful books; the one recommended by a new bookish friend who came to lunch at The Old Workshop with other village friends who are keen readers.  The other is my choice to fulfil a category on my reading challenge.

'Hare' by Jim Crumley is one in the series Encounters in the Wild, where the author writes of memorable experiences as a quiet bystander at the margin of a place where he can observe the animal's activity and behaviour.   Hares, golden-brown in colour with a pale belly and white tail, spend most of their day nestling in a patch of grass, known as a form, and is most active at night.  When they are disturbed, they can shift..... up to 45 mph.  Jim Crumley's Encounter series is written as short monographs on individual species; companion books include Fox, Barn Owl and Swan.  They are pretty and bijou, very much books to have and to hold. 

'I Believe in Unicorns' by Michael Morpurgo is my choice to fulfil the 'Middle Grade' category on my list of challenges.  I disliked this term intensely when I first encountered it, as it implies something mediocre and not quite worthy of the attention of a discriminating reader.  In fact it is part of educational terminology and describes a category of reading suitable for 8-12 year olds before they are ready to tackle Young Adult fiction.

Tomas hates school, hates books and hates stories. Forced to visit the library, he stops to listen to magical tales that the Unicorn Lady spins. These tales draw him in and soon his life will be changed for ever.  The story is set against the backdrop of war-torn Europe, and explores the power of stories to transform lives    Many reviews of this book are united in finding the story enchanting. "It has adult themes of loss and redemption wrapped up in a delightful and safe story for children. Adults will get as much from this book as children - it brought tears to my eyes." writes one reviewer.  Another says " It will make you cry a little or at least get a lump in your throat but a truly brilliant read and one I think everyone should read."  I am absolutely with these reviewers on that one.  It did bring tears to my eyes, happy ones.  I doubt anyone who treasures the joy they find in reading can help but feel emotional as the story draws to a close.

Whilst on the subject of animals......... I complete my reading of The Soul of an Octopus, lent to me by Francis Shaxson at one of our Bookish Lunches.  The Author Sy Montgomery offers a unique window into octopus behaviour and intelligence through eloquent and vivid descriptions — both science-based and emotional — of her extended encounters with octopuses while going behind the scenes at Boston's New England Aquarium and diving in Polynesian waters. 

The aptly-named giant Pacific octopus Octavia comes alive in the book (as do other octopuses) with a unique personality that responds to Montgomery in poignant ways.  Wild-caught in British Columbia and transported to the aquarium by Federal Express, Octavia is the octopus Montgomery comes to know best. On one occasion, Octavia and Montgomery hold on to each other for one hour and fifteen minutes, in an instance of tactile pleasure felt in an apparently mutual way by octopus and woman. 'I stroked her head,' Montgomery reports, 'her arms, her webbing, absorbed in her presence. She seemed equally attentive to me.'

Montgomery watches Octavia with added excitement when she lays eggs — thousands of them, like 'tiny seed pearls on black string.' 'Mottled with dark patches, Octavia is radiantly beautiful', writes Montgomery, 'the very picture of a healthy octopus and a diligent mother. She fluffs the clusters of eggs nearest the window with one arm, like a mom sitting on a park bench might jiggle a baby buggy.' The eggs, though, will never hatch; they are inert, infertile, sending no signs of life back to their caretaker. Never having had the opportunity to mate with a male, Octavia will not experience the evanescence of octopus motherhood shortly before death in the way that wild female octopuses do."

So three very different animals, two from the real world and the third from the surreal world of fantastical beasts.  But the octopus has been the subject of many mythological stories over the years, one of the best known being that of The Kraken, legendary sea monsters of giant proportions said to dwell off the coasts of Norway and Greenalnd and usually portrayed in art as a giant octopus attacking ships.