The Latinist by Mark Prins: A review

(I am falling seriously behind with my reviews so, in an attempt to catch up, my faithful readers get a bonus this week.)

I'm always a sucker for the classics. Anything with a Latin or Greek connection appeals to me, so obviously, I'm going to grab a book called The Latinist. It was a good move. It proved to be quite an entertaining read. The book turned out to be a suspense novel involving classicists. Clever, huh?

Tessa Templeton is a Ph.D. candidate in classics at Oxford. She is ready to seek a job in the world of academe and her mentor, Professor Christopher Eccles, has written a letter of recommendation for her. Except that, as Tessa learns thanks to an anonymous informer, the letter doesn't exactly recommend her. It's a classic case of damning with faint praise. Very soon we learn that Eccles' motive in writing such a letter is to keep Tessa at Oxford. He wants her only chance for employment in her field to be at that university because it is where he is and he is obsessed with her.

Tessa is a rising star in the arcane world of classics. She has just had a paper accepted for publication and her monograph is under consideration for publication by Oxford University Press. So, it is very odd that none of her applications for employment have resulted in job interviews while many lesser qualified candidates are being given interviews every day. When she sees a copy of the letter that Eccles wrote, she at first thinks it was a practical joke but then she comes to understand that he has effectively sabotaged her. How will she overcome his attempt to keep her close to him and under his control? She has to outthink him.

We quickly come to understand that these two characters are actually mirrors of each other. Each of them is monomaniacally dedicated to research in their field to the extent that, in Tessa's case, she chooses to miss her boyfriend's father's funeral in order to attend an academic conference. He doesn't stay her boyfriend for very long but she has demonstrated that she has the lack of moderation to be a serious player in the fight to get tenure.

Tessa's expertise is in the field of obscure Roman poets but she is also a scholar of some renown on the Daphne and Apollo myth, the one where Daphne escapes ravishing by Apollo by transforming herself into a laurel tree. The Latinist is, in fact, a modern retelling of that story with Tessa as Daphne and Eccles as Apollo. Tessa's plan to escape Eccles' grasp leads her to join an archaeological dig at Isola Sacra near Rome. It proves an excellent decision when she makes a spectacular find in a necropolis that just may allow her to escape from under her mentor's thumb.

Prins' retelling of Daphne and Apollo is quite an evocative and mesmerizing bit of writing. It held my attention throughout and I found it hard to put down. I guess my only complaint about the book would be that both of the main characters are just about equally unlikable. Not that a book must have likable characters but it does help to invest the reader in the story. The ending of this one is startling and reminded me a bit of Alfred Hitchcock. He, too, often managed to give his tales a surprising twist.

My rating: 4 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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