The Essex Serpent by Sarah Perry: A review

What a pleasure it was to read this book. From the first sentence to the last I was captivated. I didn't mind at all that the plot was slow in developing. The elegant language alone was enough to hold my interest.

Sarah Perry's book is set in the late 19th century and it takes the form of a gothic novel. This was an exciting period for scientific discoveries and intellectual debate and such debates are at the heart of this book as we watch two people, each from very different worlds, come together and form a unique relationship bond.

Cora Seaborne is from London. She has recently been released from a loveless and occasionally abusive marriage by the death of her husband. She admits at one point in the book that the day of her husband's death was probably the happiest day of her life. She still bears scars from that relationship, including a painful physical scar on her neck which she hides with scarves.

Cora was left quite well off financially by her husband's death and she decides that she will now live as she chooses to live, unconstrained by society's expectations.

She has a son named Francis, who would today be diagnosed as fitting on the autism spectrum. In the 1890s, he's just considered very odd and no one quite knows what to do with him.

Cora takes her son and his nanny, her friend Martha, to the Essex village of Aldwinter where she hopes to pursue her interests as a naturalist. She's never happier than when she is out slopping through the mud by the river looking for fossils, dreaming of finding evidence of some previously undiscovered species, like a plesiosaur.

While walking around the marshes one day, she comes upon a man struggling to free a sheep that is stuck in the mud. She plunges in to help and so encounters the local vicar, Will Ransome. They don't actually introduce themselves at this time and it's only at their second meeting that each actually learns who the other is.

Will is married to the beautiful - both inside and out - Stella and they have had five children, of whom three are still living. He dotes on Stella and his children and is passionate about his faith and about sharing that faith with his parishioners.

These representatives of science and faith meet and hit it off immediately as they engage in long intellectual discussions, sharing ideas. They become friends and it looks as if that friendship may blossom into an even deeper relationship.

Meanwhile, the beautiful Stella is not well. Her illness that the local physician has diagnosed as flu hangs on for months and finally is determined to be consumption. The outcome does not look hopeful for her.

At this time, the village of Aldwinter is engulfed by rumors of a great serpent, a dragon perhaps, that lives in the waters off shore and sometimes comes on shore to take animals or humans. No one has ever seen the animal, but many have caught glimpses or seen what they regard as evidence of the beast. Will Ransome considers his parishioners' agitation as nothing more than a form of mass hysteria, a relinquishing of their faith. He doesn't believe that such a creature exists.

Cora hopes that it does exist and that it is her much wanted undiscovered species. She hopes to discover it and donate her find to a museum.

The story switches back and forth between London and Aldwinter and there are several other prominent characters who contribute to the exposition of the plot. The tale is told with grace and intelligence and we come to care deeply about all these characters and to hope for the best outcome for each of them.

This was simply a delight to read from beginning to end, thoroughly satisfying both intellectually and emotionally. Sarah Perry is a very gifted writer.

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Poetry Sunday: Don't Hesitate by Mary Oliver

How about we share another Mary Oliver poem? After all, you can never have too many of those. In this one, the poet seems to acknowledge that it is often hard to simply live in and enjoy the moment, perhaps because we are afraid it can't last. She urges us to give in to that moment and fully experience the joy. Although "much can never be redeemed, still, life has some possibility left." Don't Hesitate by Mary Oliver If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy, don’t hesitate. Give in to it. There are plenty of lives and whole towns destroyed or about to be. We are not wise, and not very often kind. And much can never be redeemed. Still, life has some possibility left. Perhaps this is its way of fighting back, that sometimes something happens better than all the riches or power in the world. It could be anything, but very likely you notice it in the instant when love begins. Anyway, that’s often the case. Anyway, whatever it is, don’t be afraid of its plenty. Joy is no...

Poetry Sunday: Blackberry-Picking by Seamus Heaney

My mother was a farm wife and a prodigious canner. She canned fruit and vegetables from the garden, even occasionally meat. But the best thing that she canned, in my opinion, was blackberry jam. Even as I type those words my mouth waters! Of course, before she could make that jam, somebody had to pick the blackberries. And that somebody was quite often named Dorothy. I think Seamus Heaney might have spent some time among the briars plucking those delicious black fruits as well, so he would have known that "Once off the bush the fruit fermented, the sweet flesh would turn sour." They don't keep; you have to get that jam made in a hurry! Blackberry-Picking by Seamus Heaney Late August, given heavy rain and sun For a full week, the blackberries would ripen. At first, just one, a glossy purple clot Among others, red, green, hard as a knot. You ate that first one and its flesh was sweet Like thickened wine: summer's blood was in it Leaving stains upon the tongue and lust ...

Poetry Sunday: Hymn for the Hurting by Amanda Gorman

You probably remember poet Amanda Gorman from her appearance at the inauguration of President Biden. She read her poem "The Hill We Climb" on that occasion. After the senseless slaughter in Uvalde this week, she was inspired to write another poem which was published in The New York Times. It seemed perfect for the occasion and so I stole it in order to feature it here, just in case you didn't get a chance to read it in the Times . Hymn for the Hurting by Amanda Gorman Everything hurts, Our hearts shadowed and strange, Minds made muddied and mute. We carry tragedy, terrifying and true. And yet none of it is new; We knew it as home, As horror, As heritage. Even our children Cannot be children, Cannot be. Everything hurts. It’s a hard time to be alive, And even harder to stay that way. We’re burdened to live out these days, While at the same time, blessed to outlive them. This alarm is how we know We must be altered — That we must differ or die, That we must triumph or try. ...

The Nature of Things

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