It is September 1785, Deptford, London and shipping merchant Jonas Hancock, widowed and childless, is awaiting news of his ship, and I am waiting too, deeply embedded in The Mermaid and Mrs Hancock in my little corner of Waterstones, Exeter. And having just been immersed in some eighteenth century art I couldn't help but think back to the exhibition we had just seen; Francis Towne might have been painting this view of Exeter as Mr Hancock waited...
But what do I make of Jonas Hancock...
'He is a portly gentleman of forty-five, dressed in worsted and fustian and linen, honest familiar textures to match his threadbare scalp, the silverish fuzz of his jowls, the scuffed and stained skin of his fingertips... his meaty face is amiable and his small eyes with their pale lashes are clear and trusting...'
I'm getting that good feeling about the book already.
When the knock eventually comes on the door, and Captain Tysoe Jones is standing there in a jacket so faded by salt and sun that 'it appears dove-grey,' I am convinced to buy. 'Oh good,' I think, because I always take hints of dove-grey as a good sign.
Jonas Hancock will imminently find himself in possession of a mermaid (dead) in exchange for which his captain has sold his ship and whilst his captain is delighted, Jonas is less than impressed.
The mermaid is not a pretty sight, indeed it is 'dessicated and furious'...
'...brown and wizened like an apple forgotten at the bottom of the barrel...its head is large and its fists are drawn up to its face...'
It had 'fearful claws' and a snarl with sharp fangs, and with a torso that ends in the tail of a fish. No stitches to be seen, no glue, no paint. It is dry and frail and the scales rustle as Jonas Hancock picks it up in his two hands, and I have to confess that already Imogen Hermes Gowar has me in the palm of her hand too.
'Only a fool could lose money on a mermaid,' says Captain Jones, 'Only a fool could be angry to get one,' and I am hooked because I cannot imagine what might happen next.
Meanwhile across London meet courtesan Angelica Neal and the seamier side of London life. Houses of ill-repute, filthy streets, debauchery and prostitution prevail. Having married for money and to be 'kept' Angelica, also now widowed, finds herself hovering on the brink of of her former life as a whore but resisting the advances of her former 'Madam' Mrs Chappell. Angelica was a good earner for her and Mother Chappell would love to have her back in the fold.
Mrs Chappell, often likened to an abbess, as if she ran a nunnery and wondrously depicted throughout the book...
'..built like an armchair, more upholstered than clothed...'
as her girls flutter around her meeting her every need. The attention to dress (and the preparation for wearing it) and location (and the smells) is a real plus in this book, details are intricately woven and visually coherent... I could see it all.
And if you have ever wondered what happens when a woman who is built and upholstered like an armchair gets caught short on a carriage drive...well prepare to find out how she deals with it...
And, whilst Mrs Chappell is a full-scale rogue, with that comes the thought that at least her homes do offer a degree of safety and protection for the girls compared to life on the streets and despite the ruthless exploitation involved. Where men are concerned there is no messing with Mother Chappell, she will protect her girls.
Anyway, London is agog with news of the mermaid and Mr Hancock, fine and honest dealer that he is, slowly realises that his acquisition could bring him new-found wealth and he proceeds with an exhibition. Ultimately the available Mr Hancock and the available Mrs Neal will meet and who knows what may happen next. In fact Jonas exposes a side to Angelica's personality that she barely knew existed herself, not the flesh (that has been exposed often enough) but the soul, which in a way spoke for all the women in the book.
Descriptive, enticing writing pervades every page in this debut novel from Imogen Hermes Gower, whilst the research, which must have been extensive, floats lightly but effectively throughout. There is dependence and sadness, sympathy and joy too and no shortage of wayward living, so plan for your readerly emotions to be tossed this way and that, but expect humour as well, plenty of it.
There may however be a single moment in the book, an episode when your enthusiasm may feel ...how can I best describe it... yes, limp and wilting from the excess of action (whilst those in the book are far from) and my advice would be to weather that particular melee, tread carefully across the crowded room, set your sights on the far bank of this particular rubicon and stay the course for the sake of Angelica and Jonas. You will be rewarded.
When Angelica demands a live mermaid and Captain Jones is dispatched to find one, expect sloughs of despond, doubts, lassitude and ill-fortune to descend and put a spanner in the works and at this point I was tempted (and succumbed) to do something I never ever do. I was so deeply invested in the book and the lives that, with about eighty pages to go, I turned to the final page for a glimpse of the last few lines...not to read them mind you...just to clutch at some happy words, because I couldn't bear the not knowing and would need to prepare if this was going to go belly up. I can only liken it to that Oliver-Twist- Moment when the misfortune has turned to the good but is in grave danger of being taken away.
Of course I am not going to say whether I was pleased or in despair, but even contemplating such a sin is surely the sign of a good read.
I suspect The Mermaid and Mrs Hancock might be the book to look out for this year and a TV dramatisation would be delicious. A book that surprisingly lived up to the hype for me, and is garnering great reviews. Beautifully written, the whole flowed and consumed my attention, and when I wasn't reading it I was thinking about it. I could sit down now (weeks since I finished it) and weary you with every last detail, and I can't do that with every book I've read.
And with the eighteenth century wafting around in my imagination, it's a book that makes me want to revisit Denis Severs' House in Spitalfields too.
One final thought. The book is one of those joyous things to have and to hold...exquisite cover with those gold dots that catch the eye, but at £12.99 I also have to say very sensibly priced for hardback fiction. Meanwhile if you don't want to buy head to library reservations pronto and bag your copy, and if you have read it, or plan to, please do share thoughts in comments.
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