Niamh Boyce

Disappointing. I was looking forward to this because it got some really strong reviews, it's a woman-centered work of historical fiction which explores the notorious fourteenth-century Kyteler Witch Trial, and it's set in a part of the country I know well. (I've even been in the pub which is supposedly at least in part the former Kyteler house; it's tourist-trappy, but sure what isn't in the centre of Kilkenny?) All calculated to appeal to me!

But Niamh Boyce's prose never rose above the serviceable for me, however much it tried for lyricism, and even though Boyce compresses the time scale of events, the pacing is slow and there's no real sense of tension—even allowing for the fact that I came into this book knowing how it would all end. There's little authentic sense of time and place. Boyce clearly read up on the kinds of foods that would have been served and the names of civic officials in medieval Kilkenny and so on, but this still felt like the literary equivalent of a period film where you catch sight of a zip in the back of a supposedly medieval bliaut. The trappings might look right at first glance, but the fundamental mentalities are all wrong.

This is particularly true in the case of the characterisations, which lack much by way of subtlety and which emerge out of a reading of the Middle Ages which is as clichéd and wrong (if in a more sympathetic way) as the one it thinks it's correcting. Her Kind would, I think, have been a stronger, a more interesting, and frankly a scarier read if Boyce had for instance resisted the urge to write Richard Ledrede as a sweaty, sex-obsessed pantomime villain. Of course, this is a work of fiction and it has no obligation to be accurate or authentic—but part of Niamh Boyce's marketing pitch for this book is that it's "letting the women speak." If that's the case, you've got to try your best to truly listen for what their voices might have been.

(There's also something ironic in Boyce saying that historians have taken Ledrede's words at face value and not tried to listen to women when her acknowledgements at the end of the novel make no mention of Maeve Callan's The Templars, the Witch, and the Wild Irish: Vengeance and Heresy in Medieval Ireland, a history book written by a woman which, well... doesn't take Ledrede's words at face value.)… (más)

The Kilkenny Witch Trial of 1324 and the story Alice Kytler and her maidservant Petronelle was a slice of Irish history of which I had no previous knowledge. My graduate studies were centred on the 1500's to the the twentieth century but this book has really inspired me to learn more about our medieval past.

I found it fascinating that a woman like Alice could be so successful and powerful in her time. She was married four times, was a moneylender and held considerable wealth. Was she typical for her time? How many other women had such powerful roles in medieval Ireland?

Unfortunately it was inevitable that the Catholic Church's 'Empire of Misogyny' would clash with women like Alice in Irish society.

The story opens with one of the final scenes in the book. The story then jumps back to the events that led to the witch trial. It is told through the voices of three different characters- Alice, Petronelle, and her daughter Basilia. The character I had most sympathy with was Petronelle. She had a very interesting and mysterious background and her main concern was to protect her daughter.

Alice Kytler on the other hand was self serving and opportunistic.

There is a general feeling of doom all the way through this book. The combination of religious zealousness, superstition and jealousy made for a powder keg ready to explode.

The author does a great job of combining historical fact with fictional embellishments and it makes for one riveting and thought provoking tale; one I won't easily forget and will put aside to read again.… (más)

‘’Our eyes will go to the worms

And our livers will be given as food to the parish dogs.

The hair will be torn from our heads

The flesh flayed from our bones.

They’ll find apple seeds and gooseberry skins

In the remains of our vomit

When we are damned, my sisters.’’

Nuala Ní Dhomhnaill (translated by Michael Hartnett)

When something becomes ‘’fashionable’’, quality goes down the drain. Nowhere is this more clearly demonstrated than poor Literature which is viciously disregarded of late. I have come to think (and I hope I am wrong) that stories of witched have become a vehicle for writers devoid of ideas and possibly lacking the ability to escape of a theme en vogue destroyed by horrible dialogue and cliched choices. The extract at the beginning of this text is the best feature this book had to offer.

A mother and a daughter seek refuge in the hall of a noblewoman. We are in Ireland, in County Kilkenny during the 1300s and the religious conflict with the Gaelic people as victims is in full swing. Witchcraft, Irish tradition, the customs of a turbulent era and the Gaelic convictions are strong ingredients. The scene of two women who have nowhere to turn to and a past full of secrets are familiar motifs but no less attractive for that. Who wouldn’t desire to live the haunting experience of a true All Hallows’ Eve, the frenzy of Beltaine, the sultry night of Lughnasa?

But…

This was a world where a woman was considered a spinster at eighteen. The restriction imposed by the Church, the position of women in a society that had the witch-accusation on the ready. Nothing we haven’t seen before, therefore it is the execution that matters. And the execution wasn’t good, in my opinion. In fact, I thought it was actually horrible.

I am afraid I didn’t understand the purpose and the direction of the story. Discrimination against followers of a religious dogma? The isolation of women in a dark era? The ‘’duties’’ of being a mother and a wife? Whatever it was, the execution was almost without direction, the writing had no character, the dialogue was extremely inaccurate for the era depicted. I mean, fornication with the Devil, horny and haughty noblewomen, and pious ladies can only take you so far if you lack the chops to turn these ingredients into a remotely interesting story.

The characters are the same old female protagonists that populate Historical Fiction, wandering in the forests, the streams, and the castles, trying to sound smart and advanced for the era. Of course, this is the choice of lazy writers. So, here we have a mother, a sister, a daughter, a grandmother. Generations of boredom and stereotypes. Vanity, faith and the need to form a life of your own are excellent themes. The problem is that we have seen this many times, executed in a much better and coherent way. And please, stop with the ‘’based on a true story’’ and the ‘’need to uncover a forgotten woman’’ cliches. They don’t work with veteran readers. They may be adequate for teenagers but not for us. The chapters are ‘’clumsy’’, the prose is simplistic, the descriptions duller than dull.

I am afraid that for someone who has read a billion Historical Fiction novels with similar themes, this book was a rather negative experience. In the end, I had absolutely no interested in the fate of the characters (not to mention that the end could be seen chapters and chapters earlier…) and the writing failed to transport me to my beloved Ireland. This speaks for itself. By my standards, this novel was extremely disappointing.

Many thanks to Penguin UK and NetGalley for the ARC in exchange for an honest review.

My reviews can also be found https://theopinionatedreaderblog.wordpress.com… (más)

When a herbalist arrives in a small town, the women flock to him (many secretly), hoping he'll cure what ails them. In fact, he is a back-room abortionist. There are elements of magic realism--the ghost of a girl, dead from a botched procedure, visits the scorned town prostitute, who reads fortunes in cards but occasionally receives messages from the beyond. There are rapes, and affairs, incest, and dalliances and pregnancies--far too many--which weigh the book down in soppy melodrama. Not worth your while.… (más)