First published 2018. Harvill Secker paperback, 2018, pp 480, c.156,000 words.
Set in late-eighteenth century Georgian London, this is a world of vice and virtue, and not the delicacy and decorum of Jane Austen. The protagonist, Angelica Neal, is high-end prostitute who is struggling to survive after her protector has died without securing her future, and much of the action is centred around a bordello serving the wealthy and powerful. However this is not an erotic tale, more a struggle for survival and position; Angelique rather than Fifty Shades.
The other main character, Jonah Hancock, is a respectable middle-class businessman living in Deptford, then just outside London town, downstream on the river Thames. His business is primarily in shipping: having three of his own which he sends out into the world for trade, in which he shares the risk with other similar merchants, while he takes shares in their vessels. This world is of small-time merchants, mutually supporting each other, negotiating deals in coffee houses and keeping records of business in counting houses where clerks labour with quill pens over ledgers. The contrast between these two worlds is very well drawn: the respectable, mutually-supporting, moral, live-within-your means, merchant class and the hypocritical, amoral, selfish, money-grubbing, showy outward appearance, debt-laden excessive spending of the landed power and leisure class, and those who serve them.
Clearly Gowar has done her research. It seeps through the whole atmosphere of the book. It feels authentic. On occasions it is taken a little too far in the use of eighteenth-century words and spellings. Maybe they did write ‘sopha’ for ‘sofa’, but unfortunately reading it results in a little speed bump every time it is repeated: slowing and distracting. There are rather a lot of obsolete terms obstructing the flow: ‘viduity’ [p5], ‘grot’ [p13], ‘petitgrain’ [p19], ‘redingotes’ [p63], ‘kongouro’ [p77], and many others. If not known, they have to be guessed at or looked up. They also set up a search for anachronisms: was ‘lose face’ [p36] used back then in the same way it is today? Even the odd expression like ‘the unexamined life’ cropping up several times is distracting, although perhaps relevant: being first attributed to Socrates at his trial for corrupting youth, amongst other crimes, which has its resonance here, particularly in a scene near the end involving the downfall of Mrs Chappell. The use of names is also a little confusing: sometimes a character might be referred to as ‘Bel’, and sometimes as ‘Mrs Fortescue’ and sometimes as ‘Bel Fortescue’; one has to remember each of the main characters’ first and family names (which can change on marriage). A minor issue is also in the use of the eighteenth century custom of referring to the firstborn male child as Mr X and firstborn unmarried female child as Miss X, while all subsequent children are referred to by their given names.
This is a book of today. All the women are forceful, taking command of their lives, and all the men are morally weak, lecherous, treacherous or timorous in relation to women. Men’s power comes from their control over resources; probably true of the London in the eighteenth century. It is a simple equation: men want sex, women money. A bit of romance would be nice, as would a stable family life, but these are secondary here. As we are told, what appeals to Angelica Neal is to ‘live closely with other women, and share her secrets with them’ [p135], although most of the time the women are bitching or fighting each other.
There is also a small subplot concerning racism. This was certainly an issue of the day; being the time when the slave-trade was at its hight, and its abolition being actively discussed. This subplot is treated perfunctorily and inconclusively, as though shoehorned in to satisfy the sensibilities of the woke reader.
Apart from the criticism of the over-use of eighteenth-century terminology, Gowar writes fluently. Her story bowls along in an engaging way, even if the use of the present tense is a bit of an annoyance. The atmosphere of Georgian London is very well evoked with its huge disparity between rich and poor, and luxury and elegance cheek-by-jowl with squalor and filth. No one is immune from stepping in a pile of shit. There are some stand out set-pieces, most notably the occasions when a mermaid is displayed and the carrying out of the sentence of Mrs Chappell.
Sometimes the character’s motivations seem weak, notably Mr Hancock’s fascination with Angelica Neal: ‘He smiles with his mouth half-open like a big dog confused by its mistress’s commands: he waits amiably for her to say something more intelligible’ [p333]. Occasionally the plot seems a little implausible, e.g.it is not clear how a huge vat can be taken down a set of narrow, crumbling, twisting stairs [p399]. The rise in Mr Hancock’s fortune seems implausibly fast for a business that involves sending out ships for trade that won’t return for a time measured in years, and in constructing property for rent. Some minor characters are interesting but undeveloped, some scenes dragged – most notably the long passage about induced sadness towards the end – not a lot of fun in that.
Occasionally the prose reaches a true high. The misery of a lost child is well evoked [156], as is love which ‘grapples judgement and experience from the hands of even the wisest of souls’ [p209]. Mr Hancock, on being appalled when seeing Angelica Neal’s extravagance makes a pious comment: ‘ “They await us in the next world,” he says, which thing is rather a sprite of belief, since it seems most real when he does not look directly at it.’ [p263] – as might be said of the Mermaid. The mermaid itself is evoked in a number of passages, separated in italics, emphasising its ethereal nature. The standout is: ‘Our breath is the heave and pull of the sea on a black night, which rocks the sparks of moonlight in its ripples. We are foment, white foam spreading and leaping; we dash against the crag and are dispersed. We are the long briny hiss of the tide retreating from the land. The pebbles skip when we pass by; the stones roll over. We are the waft and spread and bloom of the purple weed. We lie smooth and polished. We tug, tug, haul at strong bodies. At our gentle, endless touch, wood is softened, sharp edges licked smooth, the strongest locks corrode.’ [p224]
Two last things: Nice title; pity it’s a bit of a plot spoiler. This paperback is large, American style, with big print and wide margins making it look bigger than it is. It is also priced at £12.99 which is 20%-30% over the odds for novels at this time.
Wikipedia biography of Gowar: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Imogen_Hermes_Gowar
Others’ reviews of the book: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/37678008-the-mermaid-and-mrs-hancock?ref=nav_sb_ss_4_10
© William John Graham, November 2023