A worthy witchy read

Alys is a young woman in 16th century England who is at the centre of Philippa Gregory's The Wise Woman. The story opens with Alys awakening in the abbey where she has been living in comfort since her childhood. When the abbey becomes the nocturnal target of arson by supporters of Henry VIII, Alys flees back to Morach, the wise woman who helped raise her. Because of her training with Morach, Alys is called to the castle of the elderly Lord Hugh, who has been ill and presumed dying by his physicians. When Alys heals him, he insists she stay as one of the ladies to his daughter-in-law, Catherine. While in residence, Alys begins an affair with Catherine's husband, the young Hugh, which starts a tale of obsession, magic, and betrayal.

Actually, lots of betrayal. Alys is a master at it. She is quick to alter her allegiances if it means comfort, warmth, food and attention. She first betrays Morach, who gave her a home. Okay, a hovel, but she was fed by Morach, and taught herb-lore and midwifery, which helped Alys get to Lord Hugh. She quickly left Morach for the abbey, and Mother Hildebrande, for whom Alys appeared to have a deep and genuine love, but who she left to burn in her bed in order to quicken her own escape. She then betrays Morach again when she lets her take the blame for certain events that happen to Lady Catherine, who, after years of barrenness, finally appears pregnant, with Alys's help. She waffles with her affection for the young Hugh, sometimes believing herself in love with him, sometimes that she is using him for her own advancements. And when she has a chance to redeem herself regarding her faith and her abbey, she turns away from that too.

Alys is one of the most conniving, hideous and morally deprived characters I have ever come across in literature. She definitely earns the book's title, as her wisdom comes in two forms: herb-wisdom and the knowledge to think quickly on her feet to save her own skin. There were times I had pity for her; I'm not sure I wouldn't try to do the same things (well, not all of the same things) if I were filthy and cold and had had a taste of the good life. But deep down, I was revolted by Alys and her actions. Does this make for a bad book? No. And, when she has a chance to clean her conscience, I was interested in how Gregory would end the book. Was it an ending I found satisfying? I know my opinion, but try it out for yourself.

Who needs a yacht?

Morgan Llywelyn is an author with whom I have never been disappointed. Her weaving of fact and fiction is so well done and intriguing that for the last twenty years I always anticipate her upcoming releases. When I discovered she was writing about St. Brendan the Navigator, I was doubly excited, as it is a story which has always fascinated me. Brendan was the 6th century Irish monk who, rather than choose serene and isolated contemplation like most of his colleagues, traveled to the ends of the earth. Using the ninth century document Voyage of St Brendan the Navigator, Llywelyn retells the story of the monk who, in his quest to find the The Islands of the Blessed, the eternal paradise, ends up crossing the Atlantic Ocean.

Brendan tells the story of the monk from his early days, living in a quiet community, learning under the instruction of Ita, a gentle, patient nun. As his body and wisdom mature, he comes under the tutelage of Erc, a powerful Bishop and former Druid. In Brendan, Erc sees someone with great potential and leadership qualities, but is often frustrated by the younger man's questioning mind and adventurous spirit.

The novel shifts between time periods, a device which adds a dreamy quality to the novel. We read of Brendan's childhood, youth, adulthood (where he accomplished most of his adventures), through to his old age, where he records his memories in his journal. It is in the writing of the journal that Brendan recalls his greatest adventure of traveling with several other monks in a small boat called a curragh, where they see living islands, volcanoes, icebergs, all sorts of unusual people, as well as tragedy. It is speculated that Brendan was the first European to reach the shores of North America, a scene Llywelen describes beautifully in the final scenes.

Although Brendan is written about a Christian saint, it is not an overtly religious book. Brendan lived at a time when the Celtic church varied greatly from its Roman counterparts. Christianity was interwoven with pagan beliefs, marriages between church leaders was normal and encouraged, and even Brendan feels romantic love. It is more a story of a restless spirit, who happens to be a monk, the daring escapades he faced, and his relationship with his god which can only grow given the wondrous things he sees and experiences.

A swift, fulfilling read

Being a teenager is a potentially trying time for almost anyone. For Shell Talent, the focus of Siobhan Dowd's A Swift, Pure Cry, it's even more difficult, given she is still mourning the loss of her vivacious, beautiful mother a year earlier. Her father is caught in a deep depression, volunteering to raise money for the church, while drinking away a portion of it, and it's left to Shell to help raise her two younger siblings. Add to that that it is 1984 in an Ireland still under the strong hold of the Catholic Church and its strict rules.

Shell has a small circle of 'friends' to help her through things: Bridie is her best friend and schoolmate, until the charismatic Declan destroys their relationship; when he departs for New York, Father Rose, a young curate at Shell's local church, becomes her closest friend. But rumours are being spread about Shell's relationship with Father Rose, and when people of the village notice, despite Shell's best efforts to camouflage it, her pregnancy, suspicion grows.

While A Swift, Pure Cry is aimed at a young adult audience, which may account for the melodramatic plot twist at the end of the book, the characters are real and well-rounded. Shell is a quiet, well-behaved young woman who manages to stay strong and true to herself despite the tragic circumstances of her life. She sacrifices her youth largely for that of her brother and sister, thrust into the role of mother well before facing the truth that she will become an actual one soon. She is loyal to Bridie, who turns her back on Shell seemingly due to jealousy, to Declan's memory, despite his leaving her in a difficult position, and to her father, who, in effect, has destroyed his family's life with his inability to deal with being a widower. She bravely faces the town gossip regarding her and Father Rose and their friendship, and also a circumstance which leads to the plot twist in the latter part of the book which truly adds upheaval to her life.

Sadly, Siobhan Dowd's personal story adds a greater sense of tragedy to the story. The author died of breast cancer in 2007, when her career as a young adult author was blossoming. It makes reading her existing writings more poignant for what the reading audience has lost.