I know that with my four-star review, I am going to go against popular opinion a bit, so I should begin by saying that I don’t know the author, have never spoken to her and never met her, and I didn’t receive a free copy. I am a verified purchaser, as you can see. I just happen to like the book.
Many of the bad reviews are based not on the book itself, but instead on the author’s personal behavior; I understand some reviewers felt she over-aggressively sought out readers, and they acknowledge that they gave it a low rating without even taking a look at the book. This kind of nonsense has nothing to do with whether this is a good or bad book, and in a fairer world, Amazon would delete ratings by reviewers who didn’t bother to read the book. (If everyone who hated Frederick Exley personally gave him one star, he would be a very low-rated author indeed.)
This is the story of Jane Adams, a young and allegedly scandalous woman in England around 1840, who secures a job as a governess while seeking to redress the fraud that caused her fall from society; it is part romance, part period piece (the sort of English society story that we love so much here in America), part social/feminist critique, and part legal drama. It is well-plotted and paced, well-characterized and, for much of the book, very well-written, elegant and beautiful and poetic. It is long, but its length and style are in keeping with the sort of book written in the first half of the 19th century, in which characters would normally write 20 page letters to each other (as they do in this novel as well). These were books in which readers would live for a month at a time, and the length is appropriate, as is the detailed inner life of the book’s characters, which some other readers have critiqued, short-sightedly (in my view). Noorilhuda has created a real and believable world, and I cared what happened to Jane.
However, while most of the book is very well-written, at a certain point, maybe a couple of hundred pages from the end, the writing just falls apart.
On page 484, she writes, “She had done the rudimentary sketching in her room but had been unable to go beyond the initial promise due to lack of time,” and I felt as though that is what happened with this book.
It is as though the author had nearly completed her second or third draft, and then just stopped rewriting and published. Anachronisms become more common and awkward paragraphs become more frequent than not. I still plowed on ahead, because by then I was too invested in the story to stop, but I became frustrated that a book that was so good, so lovely and moving, seemed to lose steam so precipitously in the prose and style department, though the plot and characterizations remained compelling.
The anachronisms involved quotations from things that happened later than the book, slang that didn’t exist at the time, and historically impossible events, for example: “there is no such thing as a second chance or a second Act” (a quote from Fitzgerald, written more than fifty years after the book takes place, and “Act” shouldn’t be capitalized); “she had verbal diarrhea”; “Ms. Adams” (this is how Jane is generally referred to by the other characters, although “Ms.” – a modern feminist combination of Miss and Mrs. – was not introduced until the 1950s, and didn’t come into frequent use until the 1970s); “frustrated at every road block” (roadblocks of course are a 20th century invention, and the metaphor followed); when one of her young charges becomes ill, the doctor prescribes cough syrup, which I understand didn’t exist in the early 19th century; a young woman is described as “a fine piece of meat”; there are a few references to telegrams, which were in very limited commercial use at the time, and not yet known by that term; she uses the contraction “alright” throughout the book, which was not introduced until much later; “He’s bonkers that’s what it is”; “say what?”; “humungous” (this is both a misspelling and an anachronism, as the word didn’t exist in the 19th century); “Good Grief!”; “livid” (this usage is 20th century); “he wanted that vim and zing and dip and pep!” (“pep” is 20th century usage”); “So here he was, free at last”; “They came out from the noisy chatter into the quaint side of the street near the bus station”; “you and karma have got a nice dodge going on”.
I thought that the awkward writing, poor grammar and punctuation also became frequent as the book progressed, along with the careless anachronisms. (And bear in mind that I though the first two-thirds of the book was very well-written.) Ellipses are used inconsistently and incorrectly. (The general rule is three ellipses in the middle of a sentence, four ellipses between sentences – she uses endless ellipses, inconsistently.) Comma usage stars to fail. Some of the passages are incomprehensible. (“She thought of the porous damned night.”) A courtroom scene that should be an emotional highlight is poorly written, although otherwise well-plotted. (The “court did break into an innocuous circus.” I just didn’t know what “an innocuous circus” is supposed to mean.)
I want to highlight three examples. This first passage occurs at a particularly dramatic moment, when Jane meets a villain from her past. It should be emotionally compelling but is instead awkwardly written and punctuated, and filled with spelling errors, and much of it I could not understand:
She had been practicing her slighting looks and sarcastic mask in her mind’s eye .... She wanted people to call him names, reproach him, pull him in all directions, confuse him with their poisonous touches, injure him into submission and regret, and uninhibited mindless unbearable pain .... She wanted the warden to pull his neatly cut hair together and ram the head against a wall. She wanted the woman with the carousal [sic] to jab him with it till he bled .... She wanted his legs to be cut in tiny little pieces by the butcher so that he crashed from the proud smirky pedastal [sic] he had created for himself. And then she wanted him to writhe and plead as epithets were nailed into the remaining parts of his humungous [sic] body.
An important death, which should also be emotionally devastating, is described by the attending physician as follows:
It takes a while for mouth to take note and follow and by the time it did, it was arrested at the moment it was open and not close [sic]. I checked the pupils and found them watery. This is a common occurrence, as whenever the heart seizes [sic] to work, the pain lets up the person’s eyes to water.
So instead of mourning the death – which really is awful, to be very clear about it, the sort of dramatic turn worthy of some of our greatest writers, and which should make at least some readers cry – we are distracted by the misspellings and the awkwardness of the prose, which could be so easily corrected.
Finally, the following excerpt, which I read repeatedly and just couldn’t figure out, begins chapter 9, and introduces the pivotal courtroom scene:
The heart beats to a certain pressure, the rhythm being numb or cranky, swinging to an icy measured finish or throbbing high note, always dense, always recurrent, always a witness to the many emotions that encapsulate the human experience, whether shock, dismay, fear, lethargy, indifference or romance. People are fools for seeking facial expressions; they would do better and have more faithful reliable results by judging the mere pulse. The invisible ticks can lay bare the false notes more readily than any cleanser, whack the pretense of a person’s feelings and somber reactions and make the decline of a man more transparent than any wound or medicine. There is a beat for every occasion, mood and nuance. Jane wished hers would not ramble so savagely.
While I found the conclusion really satisfying on an emotional level, and brilliant in its way, I couldn’t help noticing that the novel’s very last two-word sentence has a capitalization typo in it. When the last sentence of a book has a typo in it, you know that it has been rushed into print too soon.
This is really a five-star book just waiting to break out of its shell, and it maintains its quality for a good long run. The last couple hundred pages remain compelling but just need a redraft, a really thorough, sentence-by-sentence redraft. This is the kind of work and the kind of author we should be encouraging, someone filled with ideas, someone who can write a book that is such a terrific mix of old and new. One day I think Noorilhuda will be a very good author of a very good book.