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Havoc, in Its Third Year : A Novel |
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Reviews |
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Rating:  Summary: Murder mystery, legal meditation, Puritan vs. Papist England Review: In his preface to Havoc, Bennett recalls a society unhinged by threats from abroad-papist armies-and within-traitors, Irish immigrants, gypsies, those natives dispossessed of their lands, Jesuits, and assorted other Catholics. The English with property who resented the burden to their town's coffers, the threat imposed by vagabonds on the highways, and the ideological dissension against the Commonwealth rallied under leaders promising-under the sign of the laurel branch-to restore the true Faith and retain those strong enough to lock up, exile, or condemn those who sought to undermine their kingdom. `Inspired by Scripture, with a burning vision of a just, godly, disciplined community, they determined to uphold the law, reform the manners and habits of the poor, protect true religion, and maintain orthodoxy in word and deed. They were often sincere, energetic, and compassionate; they were also intolerant and merciless (their principles demanded no less).' (2) Seeking unanimity and no protest, they dedicated themselves to a better land, one that would please their Creator by enforcing an end to humanity's baser actions and instincts. Bennett implies that such a tale might not seem out of place today. Imams and preachers might agree.
Fairly, the author, aided by his own considerable familiarity with legal theories and the everyday practices of the early 17th c., strives to be fair to both sides in this clash of ideologies. John Brigge himself comes from the recusants, those few who persisted in Catholicism and who argues for mercy against those who triumph in their wish to render harsh justice.
Bennett eschews stereotypes, at least in his narrative's start. In prose crafted painstakingly to convey the thoughts and speech of educated as well as ignorant folks of the 1630s, Bennett carefully shows, in a novel entirely from Brigge's indirectly expressed consciousness, how visions, dreams, portents, and prayers mixed with half-understood remedies, medical hearsay, and folkloric incantations to construct the mind of a sophisticated early 17 c. Englishman. His use of colloquial dialogue, monologue, and period details portrays a land not unfamiliar to inhabitants of such climes today, but one before the Enlightenment, before scientific breakthroughs, and one still trusting in revelations as much as reason. The picture seen through Brigge's eyes, painted by Bennett, remains far more reliant upon fevered reveries as much as ratiocination, and this results in an uneven novel. At times, the focus blurs and shifts, as in an art-house movie, away from a determinedly realistic into an impressionistic depiction of a mentality still pre-modern. While the intent is admirable, the changes do deter contemporary 21st c. readers from fully appreciating Bennett's attempt to faithfully match Brigge's mental state. The jarring entry, especially as the novel progresses, of nearly magical realism (to use the Latin American fictional equivalent) draws too much attention to the art utilised by Bennett at the risk of too much concentration on the illusionary state suffered by Brigge, upon whom we as readers remain dependent for the entire story.
This shortcoming aside, Bennett exposes a Brueghelian tableau of hideous faces, strange diets, and half-fanciful caricatures as he brings into his novel a mixture of a murder mystery that Brigge must solve, a family drama as he must wrestle with the aftermath of infidelity while caring for his new son, and his own manipulation by the city officials who seek either his allegiance or his ouster. The plot carries you forward, past the genre formulae of a whodunit, into the tension between two visions of how people are to be governed. Implicitly, Brigge's Catholic tendency to forgive stands a losing battle against the Puritan emphasis upon punishment against the sinner. Brigge, fearing that he cannot resist the majority, wakes one night: `He tried to pray, but he could not make himself unafraid. This is man's true state, he thought, to know fear. This is what being human means, above all else. We are bundles of fear and need. The rest is a mere distraction, a way to deceive ourselves out of our terrors, which we sometimes hide and which we sometimes forget, but we remain afraid. We are all afraid.' Insensibly, Bennett's existential modern view merges with that of his 1630s character, steeped in Catholic verities yet terrified by the void.
The novel loses pace after a deus ex machina allows Brigge to wander out on the roads with a band of half-crazed pilgrims advocating evangelical purity; Bennett seems to be setting up a sequel to his novel before he finishes Brigge's own tale. Its diffusion into almost magical realism casts more of a miasmatic haze over the denouement, and diminishes the power of the earlier chapters. This shortcoming aside, the novel still remains worth reading for its prose, its acuity, and its topic.
(Adapted from "Puritan Death Ethic," on-line review at the website for The Blanket)
Rating:  Summary: "No toleration for any crime, error, or sin, however slight" Review: Set in the north of England in the early 1630s, this novel artfully captures the political, social, and religious turmoil during the reign of King Charles I. A distant and autocratic king, Charles fails to take into account the enormous religious changes sweeping both Europe and England and undermining his own power. Puritanical grassroots movements have now sprung up, with many local leaders, both religious and civil, calling for reform and purification. John Brigge, a coroner living in the remote countryside, is one of twelve reform-minded governors aiding Nathaniel Challoner, the Master, in his "Revolution of the Saints" and his project to "build a city on the hill."
Though he attends the prescribed protestant church, Brigg is in reality a "papistical malignant," a man who walks the difficult line between the Puritanism of the Master, a lifelong friend, and his belief that "men must have mercy, for without mercy we are savages." When Brigge is suddenly called to conduct an inquest on an infant found dead in a local pub, he discovers that Katherine Shay, a Catholic deemed "prideful, brazen, and uncontrite," has been arrested for the murder.
With numerous subplots and much intrigue, the story of Katherine Shay's arrest and John Brigge's search for justice on her behalf evolves. The period comes to life on every level of society as the author shows in realistic detail the kinds of gruesome punishments meted out for "sins," the harshness of life for the homeless poor, the dependence of farmers on luck and weather, the fragility of life, the excesses of religious extremism, and the abiding power of love. Realistically presented motivations for some of the extreme behavior in the novel make the Puritan characters come alive, as John Brigge, a man who sees more than one side to each issue, becomes a protagonist for whom the reader develops much sympathy.
The elegant and formal language of the novel resembles that of the Bible. Filled with observations of the harsh natural world but revealing the humanity of the main characters, the novel has a rare historical integrity and unity, with poignant applications to the present day. Despite its forbidding subject matter, the novel is exciting--full of well-paced action and suspense. Many characters have biblical parallels, obvious in their names--Elizabeth, Deborah, Starman, and John Brigge, sometimes known as Germanus. The religious parallels are unobtrusive during the body of the novel, but the ending is overtly symbolic and didactic, the book's artistry and elegance subordinated to message, and its thematic balance and restraint sacrificed to an overly obvious, religious conclusion. (4.5 stars) Mary Whipple
Rating:  Summary: WELL DONE HISTORICAL NOVEL OF WHICH WE SHOULD TAKE HEED Review: The author's setting for this work in early 17th century England. This is a well done piece of historical fiction by any standard. The author has obviously done his research. Because of the time, religion, sin, faith, morals and leadership all come into play. I was struck by the timelessness of this work. When you take a close look at the problems encountered by the primary characters in the book, we find this same theme repeated time and again throughout history, indeed our own history. Many of the incidents taking place here, in 1630 could be ripped from the pages of "Grapes of Wrath." It does not take a great leap to turn on the evening news and catch glipses of the very problems the author addresses here. That being said, I do feel the author's wonderful use of the language, his character development and insight to human character make the book well worth the read. Very much recommend this one. It should make you think!
Rating:  Summary: heavy-handed Review: The cover notes for this historical novel indicate that it is a sort of parable for our own time, and that is accurate. It is, however, somewhat self-consciously a parable, and therefore not a very good novel. It's a pity; the author writes well, and appears to know his history, but we get no real historical detail and precious little character development -- just a parable. Don't waste your time.
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