I loved the first Kate Morton book I read, The House at Riverton, so as soon as I saw she’d written another book, I bought it straight away. It’s another multi-generational story, covering more than a hundred years. Cassandra, her grandmother Nell, and a lady called Eliza who is an important part of Nell’s childhood all have their own stories which unfold as you go through the book.
It’s an amazingly complicated structure but Morton does it brilliantly. The chapters jump around between the times but the characters she creates are so strong, it’s very difficult to become confused. The story starts when Nell dies and she leaves Cassandra a house in her will. (There seems to be a bit of a theme about non-English people inheriting houses in England, see When She was Bad if you don’t believe me). Cassandra lives in Australia and as far as she knew Nell has also lived in Australia all her life – Nell actually brought up Cassandra after her tarty mother dumped her – so she’s quite surprised to discover Nell has a house in England. Cassandra travels to England to see the house and to try and solve the mystery of who Nell’s real parents are. At the same time, you read about Nell trying to solve the mystery herself and then you get to see the mysterious Eliza growing up and eventually coming into contact with Nell.
It took me a while to get into the story. The characters – apart from Eliza, who first appeared a short way into the book – were not immediately as likeable and interesting as the characters in The House at Riverton. This book is to a great extent more plot-driven than character-driven – which would usually not be a positive trait but it didn’t matter in The Forgotten Garden. The plot is so fast-paced and exciting, full of twists and turns, you don’t really have space in your brain to worry that the characters aren’t brilliant. As the book progresses, it becames more and more difficult to put it down. Sometimes you can guess in advance what’s going to happen but even when you’re right things are never quite as you expect them to be. And I love how Morton will mention characters in one plotline, only for them to pop up later in the past or future. It’s all so cleverly done and I can’t imagine how much time Morton must have spent putting it all together.
Eliza is an authoress so the book features three of the fairytales she wrote. Usually I hate it when you have to break off from reading the main story in order to read something written by a character. But I couldn’t get annoyed this time. The fairytales were so beautifully told and original too – and they weren’t exactly irrelevant as far as the plot was concerned.
The whole book was wonderfully written. The language Morton uses always sounds so beautiful. One of the most beautiful users of language I have ever read – maybe not right up there with Jane Austen but like Adele Geras she’s not far off. Morton is one of the few writers where I can see in my mind what she’s writing about. Even when she’s spending ages describing something without anything happening it doesn’t matter. I can’t get bored because there’s just too much to enjoy, whether it’s the images she’s creating, the sounds of the words or just the fact that anything could turn out to be a clue to help you solve the mystery.
I just hope Kate Morton writes some more books.
Showing posts with label Kate Morton. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Kate Morton. Show all posts
Monday, 17 May 2010
Sunday, 1 March 2009
The House at Riverton (Kate Morton)****
You know the main climax of The House at Riverton just from reading the blurb.
But don’t let that put you off. The blurb actually tells you very little, and, in giving up before you’ve read the book, you’d miss so much.
The story is complex and fascinating. Housemaid Grace joins the staff at Riverton, and forms a bond with the two daughters of the house, Hannah and Emmeline. The story is told from Grace’s point of view, and spans almost a century, as Grace rises from lowly housemaid to lady’s maid to becoming a lady in her own right. It shows how the Victorian world was suddenly transformed into one shockingly close to the world of today, with love affairs, sex outside marriage, and even nightclubs.
Kate Morton writes beautifully, describing the actions, the characters and Grace’s surroundings all in lovely, lyrical prose. Unusually, the protagonist, Grace, doesn’t have much of an effect on the action. Her job requires her to be silent, and to observe. Mostly, the action focuses on Hannah and Emmeline, and Grace does little more than witness it. Yet she seems a very vibrant character despite all this. She responds to everything. She observes everything in an non-judgemental way, just accepting everything that happens, but her feelings of interest; of care for the characters make her into a big and important character. Morton could easily have told the story without Grace, but it wouldn’t have been nearly as fascinating.
This is partly because Grace is such an interesting character, but also because no-one else could really have told the story. Emmeline is important, but absent for much of it. Much of the story hinges on what she doesn’t know.
Hannah is also a great character, but part of her allure is in her mystery. Grace can never know Hannah completely because, of course, there is a limit to what Hannah will tell a servant, even one for whom she develops some fondness. But part of the fascination with Hannah is that she’s so unpredictable. You never know what she will do in any given situation. Had the story been told from Hannah’s point of view, we would probably have seen a lot more of the reasoning behind Hannah’s decisions, and that would probably have made her more predictable and consequently less interesting.
There is also a ‘framing’ storyline set in modern times, where a film is made about Hannah and Emmeline’s life. Grace, now ninety-eight, meets the producer and other people involved in the film, including the young actress who is to play the role of Grace (somewhat cheekily named Keira). We also see Grace’s relationships with her daughter, her grandson, and Sylvia, who looks after her in the retirement home. There is not a great deal of story set in the present, but there is so much to hold your interest.
But there are times when the book drags a bit. There are sections where not a lot happens, and I’d have preferred it if these sections were either cut completely (it’s a very long book as it is) or for them to be replaced by something that helps one or more of the storylines along.
Also, the final climax has weaknesses. While Morton builds up to this moment very effectively, and there is (most of the time) far too much going on for you to be waiting impatiently for that part of the book to happen (if I read about something in the blurb that sounds good, I often want it to happen RIGHT NOW). But the climax is indirectly caused by one particular incident in the book that seemed a bit weak and desultory when it happens, and certainly doesn’t really need to be dragged on for years. I’m not going into detail though because I don’t want to put people off. It’s disappointing, considering what Morton has achieved in this novel, but it’s no reason to give the book a miss.
The House at Riverton isn’t perfect all the way through, but the good bits are amazing, and I haven’t read another book like it.
But don’t let that put you off. The blurb actually tells you very little, and, in giving up before you’ve read the book, you’d miss so much.
The story is complex and fascinating. Housemaid Grace joins the staff at Riverton, and forms a bond with the two daughters of the house, Hannah and Emmeline. The story is told from Grace’s point of view, and spans almost a century, as Grace rises from lowly housemaid to lady’s maid to becoming a lady in her own right. It shows how the Victorian world was suddenly transformed into one shockingly close to the world of today, with love affairs, sex outside marriage, and even nightclubs.
Kate Morton writes beautifully, describing the actions, the characters and Grace’s surroundings all in lovely, lyrical prose. Unusually, the protagonist, Grace, doesn’t have much of an effect on the action. Her job requires her to be silent, and to observe. Mostly, the action focuses on Hannah and Emmeline, and Grace does little more than witness it. Yet she seems a very vibrant character despite all this. She responds to everything. She observes everything in an non-judgemental way, just accepting everything that happens, but her feelings of interest; of care for the characters make her into a big and important character. Morton could easily have told the story without Grace, but it wouldn’t have been nearly as fascinating.
This is partly because Grace is such an interesting character, but also because no-one else could really have told the story. Emmeline is important, but absent for much of it. Much of the story hinges on what she doesn’t know.
Hannah is also a great character, but part of her allure is in her mystery. Grace can never know Hannah completely because, of course, there is a limit to what Hannah will tell a servant, even one for whom she develops some fondness. But part of the fascination with Hannah is that she’s so unpredictable. You never know what she will do in any given situation. Had the story been told from Hannah’s point of view, we would probably have seen a lot more of the reasoning behind Hannah’s decisions, and that would probably have made her more predictable and consequently less interesting.
There is also a ‘framing’ storyline set in modern times, where a film is made about Hannah and Emmeline’s life. Grace, now ninety-eight, meets the producer and other people involved in the film, including the young actress who is to play the role of Grace (somewhat cheekily named Keira). We also see Grace’s relationships with her daughter, her grandson, and Sylvia, who looks after her in the retirement home. There is not a great deal of story set in the present, but there is so much to hold your interest.
But there are times when the book drags a bit. There are sections where not a lot happens, and I’d have preferred it if these sections were either cut completely (it’s a very long book as it is) or for them to be replaced by something that helps one or more of the storylines along.
Also, the final climax has weaknesses. While Morton builds up to this moment very effectively, and there is (most of the time) far too much going on for you to be waiting impatiently for that part of the book to happen (if I read about something in the blurb that sounds good, I often want it to happen RIGHT NOW). But the climax is indirectly caused by one particular incident in the book that seemed a bit weak and desultory when it happens, and certainly doesn’t really need to be dragged on for years. I’m not going into detail though because I don’t want to put people off. It’s disappointing, considering what Morton has achieved in this novel, but it’s no reason to give the book a miss.
The House at Riverton isn’t perfect all the way through, but the good bits are amazing, and I haven’t read another book like it.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
