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Can you uncover the truth when you’re forbidden from speaking it?
A Sin Eater’s duty is a necessary evil: she hears the final private confessions of the dying, eats their sins as a funeral rite, and so guarantees their souls access to heaven. It is always women who eat sins – since it was Eve who first ate the Forbidden Fruit – and every town has at least one, not that they are publicly acknowledged. Stained by the sins they are obliged to consume, the Sin Eater is shunned and silenced, doomed to live in exile at the edge of town.
Recently orphaned May Owens is just fourteen, and has never considered what it might be like to be so ostracized; she’s more concerned with where her next meal is coming from. When she’s arrested for stealing a loaf of bread, however, and subsequently sentenced to become a Sin Eater, finding food is suddenly the last of her worries.
It’s a devastating sentence, but May’s new invisibility opens new doors. And when first one then two of the Queen’s courtiers suddenly grow ill, May hears their deathbed confessions – and begins to investigate a terrible rumour that is only whispered of amid palace corridors.
Set in a thinly disguised sixteenth-century England, The Sin Eater by Megan Campisi is a wonderfully imaginative and gripping story of treason and treachery; of secrets and silence; of women, of power – and, ultimately, of the strange freedom that comes from being an outcast with no hope of redemption for, as May learns, being a nobody sometimes counts for everything . . .
368 pages, Hardcover
First published March 31, 2020
Salt for pride. Mustard seed for lies. Barley for curses. There are grapes too, laid red and bursting across the pinewood coffin—one grape split with a ruby seed poking through the skin like a sliver through flesh. There’s crow’s meat stirred with plums and a homemade loaf, small and shaped like a bobbin…There are other foods too, but not many. My mother had few sins.In an alternate Elizabethan England, fourteen-year-old May Owens, newly orphaned with the passing of her father, (her mother’s family not being an option, having already shown themselves to be an abusive, criminal lot) is nabbed for stealing bread, tossed into the clink, and done dirt by being fitted with a literal collar, brass, with a coordinated tattoo on her tongue, and sentenced, cursed really, to be a Sin Eater. It may be a job, but it comes with the added weight of making you a social outcast, a literal untouchable. This despite performing what is considered the crucial public service of symbolically taking on the sins of the deceased by eating particular foods by their coffins so the sinners could speed their way to heaven, unburdened. She finds her way to the only Sin Eater she knows, in the worst part of town, the woman who had sat by her mother to take on her sins as she neared death. The woman takes her in as an apprentice. As the author notes at the beginning of the book,
Sin eaters existed in parts of Britain until roughly a century ago. How many and who they were, apart from social pariahs, is almost entirely lost. What we know is that they ate a piece of bread beside people’s coffins to absolve their sins in a folk ritual with Christian resonances.
I spent a lot of time reading through Tudor cookbooks! In selecting pairings of sins and foods, I grouped some by types of sins (for example, sins related to envy all involve cream) and some by onomatopoeia (to me, the sound of “gristle” fits its sin, wrath). I also intended for some pairings to feel whimsical. I wanted to recreate the experience one has when hearing a nursery rhyme from hundreds of years ago: there are elements that make sense and others that simply don’t because their meaning has been lost over time. - from the Reading the Past interviewThere are several things going on here. First, is a Dickensian tale of an orphaned girl being thrown into a corrupt adult world, having to fend for herself, and trying to create her own family, trying to make a home for herself, and a place for herself in the world. It is also a feminist coming of age, as May begins to realize that she now has power she had not realized before, can exert it to help herself and others, and why shouldn’t she be able to have as much control over her life as the men do? And surely there is a message to the fact that there are no male sin eaters, so females alone carry the spiritual burden of the crimes of others. And, it is a also mystery.




