The Outcast Dead by Elly Griffiths: A review

The "outcast dead" of the title refers to the unknown dead, plague victims, lepers, or simply poor, mostly people who had no one to mourn them. The book begins with a litany for these outcasts and though archaeologist Ruth Galloway is not religious, she does appreciate the sentiment of recognizing the humanity of these dead.

This entry in the archaeological mystery series features two mysteries. One dates to the Victorian era and the other actually occurs in the current day.

The Victorian-era aspect of the story revolves around a notorious murderer of children. In her latest dig, at Norwich Castle, Ruth has uncovered the bones of Jemima Green who was dubbed "Mother Hook" and who was hanged in 1867 for the murder of five children who were in her care.

Meanwhile, in the modern day, another child murderer, who has been dubbed the "Childminder," is abroad in the area. DCI Harry Nelson is investigating the case of three children who were found dead in their home. The first two were originally determined to have died from sudden infant death syndrome but the coroner has suspicions about the latest one. Then another child is abducted. Could there be two kidnappers/murderers or is one person behind it all?

Ruth and Harry, of course, have a history. They had had a brief affair, the result of which is a much-loved daughter, two-and-a-half-year-old Kate. Harry was married at the time of the affair and is still married to the same woman. That isn't going to change, but he adores Kate and revels in his relationship with her and the time he is able to spend with her. Meanwhile, his wife (who seems to be a saint!) supports him in this.

As a result of her archaeological finds, Ruth has become the reluctant star of a television series called "Women Who Kill" in which she works with a history expert, Professor Frank Barker. It is an extremely uncomfortable position for a woman who would prefer to work in anonymity.

The Druid Cathbad, one of my favorite characters in these books, had moved away to Pence by the end of the previous book in the series but he still manages to insert himself into this one. Moreover, we get to meet his adult daughter as well.

All in all, this was a worthy addition to a series that I have greatly enjoyed over the years. It combined my interest in archaeology (as a teenager, my career wish was to be an archaeologist) with getting to better know the main characters in the series, and it moved their personal relationships forward in a believable manner. There are several more entries in this series and I look forward to reading them all!

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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