“When I found the manuscript, I little thought that it would contain such an extraordinary adventure. It had no title page. When I opened the foolscap notebook – which I did carefully, for the leather binding was quite brittle – I only saw closely-written lines of faded brown ink.”

This device in historical fiction writing is not usually one of my favorites – I’m not sure why; perhaps it feels more cinematic than literary – too neat, too easy. I can only think of one instance that it has worked for me and that’s in the ‘Flashman’ books, by George MacDonald Fraser. This was a comedic series and the old,‘I’m just presenting manuscripts that I’ve found’ worked better in that mode. Right from the ‘git’ then, I’m having trouble buying the premise, suspending disbelief.

The primary characters are introduced in the first couple of pages through a few letters from America, in which the situation is also outlined.

“I had thought the letter I had writ thee in eighth month of last year would be the hardest it were ever my ill-fortune to pen……But – Oh, my poor Susan – the news I have now to relate is infinitely worse than the blow I had to inflict upon thee a twelvemonth since…..She is lost, Susan! She has vanished beyond the pale of the known world! And yet she lives, perhaps. We cannot know.”

This, from Mark’s Aunt Judith who has been traveling among various Quaker outposts in North America. The ‘she’ referred to is Mark’s younger sister Rachel who had been accompanying Judith. Now Rachel has left the fold and run off with a young Scottish fur trader, Alan MacKenzie. Following a baby that has been stillborn to her, she has further left Alan and disappeared into the ‘savage wilderness’. His own letter was enclosed with Judith’s:

“Rachel had a child, but he was born dead. She was not the same after: quite mazed, in fact…..We camped on the south island of Manitou. She wandered off at twilight; it was the way she was at that time…She did not come back. Not that night, nor the next, nor the one after that.”

Mark decides to venture across the sea to North America to look for Rachel, convinced that she still lives. He is determined to do whatever it takes and sets out. In a nice bit of character development, Elphinstone explores how a young staunch Quaker lad might deal with whatever comes his way and although he is a devout pacifist (in keeping with strict Quaker tenets), he will defend himself quite adequately should the situation call for it. Early on, he narrowly escapes a ship’s press gang after witnessing other men getting taken:

“The first fellow was already on me, his mate right after him. I flailed wildly with my fists. I hold our testimony to peace as dear as any: I would turn the other cheek if I could….And so it was that I fought like a wildcat dragged from its lair….I bit one of them, and kicked out at the other. I got him straight in the ballocks so he screamed and fell like an ox.”

Not bad for a devout pacifist. There are other incidents, other temptations that sorely test young Mark Greenhow’s faith. Some he passes and some he doesn’t, but it’s the contrast that is interesting for the most part. He shows himself to be human behind the religion and not always that stiff – he can have a laugh with the boys upon occasion. Writing of joining up with a band of French Canadian voyageurs:

“That first day I found them a drunken bawdy lot – for it was easy to guess what they were talking about.

He learns to canoe and portage and by the end of that part of the journey, a mutual affection had grown. He takes his leave of the group:

“As they drew away the brigade looked very small, for all it had loomed so large in my life….I’d not been alone for four weeks. I felt bereft, for I’d grown to like my voyageurs very well.”

Mark ultimately meets up with his brother-in-law, Alan, and they continue on in their search for Rachel - into their own ‘heart of darkness’.

I had very mixed feelings about this book. I thought Mark’s character was well developed and by the end of it, he’d endeared himself to me somewhat. Rachel’s enigmatic character was interesting to a point – portrayed in a shadowy way through secondary sources, in letters and others’ recollections. The others, however, felt flat and not believable. Elphinstone has researched the period and the terrain thoroughly, and as an amateur historian, I truly appreciated the detail. This doesn’t always translate into good historical fiction though – a good deal of the time, it felt too packed and dense, and did not integrate well with the action; almost like painted scenery as a backdrop. It is very difficult to write good historical fiction where the reader is seamlessly pulled into the period – too often, there is a tendency on the part of the writer to put in as much historical detail as possible in order to evoke a sense of the time and place, and you can almost see the hands of the magician. It reminded me, at times of historical fiction I’d read as a young boy. Elphinstone writes well and as mentioned before, the book was very well researched, but it takes more for me than that to truly engage.

Marc Goldin currently lives in Chicago, with three cats, each one more long-haired than the last. Interests have ranged from medieval monasticism to discontinued stations on the London Underground – literary likes too diverse (some would say schizo) to list here although the last several years have been witness to an intimacy with Scottish and Irish literature. American Southern and Beat era lit also account for some of the ‘missing years’. Music tastes run the gamut from Cuban Danzon to Ska (all three waves but having a specific attachment to the second, two-tone period) to the Tuvan throat singers. Has written book reviews for a now defunct Irish literature site and has several short stories in various stages of development. Mad for black and white photography and aspires to someday have a complete collection of photos documenting every close in the Grassmarket area of Edinburgh. Works in the IT dept. of a French company in the current political climate. In football, supports Chelsea, Hibs, and for the sake of employment security, Marseille. To read Marc’s story, ‘Plastic Paddy’ on the showcase section of this site, click here or to read more reviews by Marc, click the New Review index above.

© 2004 Laura Hird All rights reserved.