Four fascinating protagonists make for two unusual couples.
ASTRAEA***Their love story, however, is only one aspect of this multi-dimensional book. Stevenson draws in theology, history, morality and politics. Civil war is brewing in England, and the European powers battle constantly over land, religion and the riches of the east. The political intricacies can be confusing for a reader unfamiliar with this period of history, but they are crucial to the story. Elizabeth (a real historical character), is a significant player at the center of this maelstrom; her son’s political interests are her driving force, and come above all other considerations, including her personal happiness.
This is the story of two people who are accustomed to subjugating their own desires and needs to their obligations and duties. Even their language—hers of the court, his of a scholar—is restrained and formal. And this also extends to Stevenson’s writing, sometimes frustratingly so; the book seems to withhold the warmth that we would like of it, just as Elizabeth and Pelagius must do.
Stevenson does, however, vividly bring to life the sights, smells and sensations of the bustling city of The Hague and the closeted world of the court. The period detail is fascinating but never obtrusive. Though readers expecting a typical historical romance will be disappointed, Astraea is a rewarding book: unusual, interesting and thought-provoking.
DOWN THERE BY THE TRAIN***
by Kate Sterns
Bloomsbury, 2001
Levon Hawke has just been released from prison. His parole is conditional upon him taking a job at his cousin Simon’s bakery, on an isolated island. Having missed the only ferry, Levon sets out on foot across the frozen lake and, stumbling ashore in darkness, happens upon a crumbling house in the woods. Inside is the waifish Obdulia Limb, brewing up poison tea for herself and feeding her fire with volumes of the Encylopaedia Brittanica. This weird but warm scene sets the tone for the novel—creepy, witty and humane. Levon is quickly drawn into some sinister goings-on in this small-town backwater, at the same time as he is drawn, unexpectedly, to Obdulia.
Grief—Obdulia’s for her mother, Levon’s for his sister—is a central theme. Like Astraea, this is, in part, a story about love and redemption. And although the setting is contemporary, this novel also reaches back to the 17th century. Levon’s love of medical history informs the book’s themes, and old remedies provide an apposite prologue to each chapter.
This is a novel with the feel of a play. It has an ensemble cast of just seven characters (plus the two very-present dead ones). The action takes place in a limited number of locations, over a short period of time. There is a sense of artifice about the writing. And it’s full of taut, witty dialogue.
Sterns mixes gothic horror with humor and an amused sense of the absurd, like Edgar Allen Poe via David Lynch. Her writing is playful and knowing, with a keen eye for metaphor—“Simon’s mouth twitched like a neighbor’s curtain.” Though economical, her sentences are packed with resonances that may escape you at first glance. With a magician’s sleight of hand, she conjures rich and complex characters out of thin prose—you can barely see how she does it. We are forced to empathize with even her most unlikable characters—and some of the characters in this book are extremely unlikable. Equally, she creates enormous warmth of feeling for the central character, Levon. This is Sterns’ second novel, and suggests that she will be a writer to watch.
