From the No. 1 bestselling author of The American Boy comes a brilliant new historical thriller set during the French Revolution.
Paris, 1792. Terror reigns as the city writhes in the grip of revolution. The streets run with blood as thousands lose their heads to the guillotine. Edward Savill, working in London as agent for a wealthy American, receives word that his estranged wife Augusta has been killed in France. She leaves behind ten-year-old Charles, who is brought to England to Charnwood Court, a house in the country leased by a group of emigre refugees. Savill is sent to retrieve the boy, though it proves easier to reach Charnwood than to leave. And only when Savill arrives there does he discover that Charles is mute. The boy has witnessed horrors beyond his years, but what terrible secret haunts him so deeply that he is unable to utter a word?
Andrew Taylor (b. 1951) is a British author of mysteries. Born in East Anglia, he attended university at Cambridge before getting an MA in library sciences from University College London. His first novel, Caroline Miniscule (1982), a modern-day treasure hunt starring history student William Dougal, began an eight-book series and won Taylor wide critical acclaim. He has written several other thriller series, most notably the eight Lydmouthbooks, which begin with An Air That Kills (1994).
His other novels include The Office of the Dead (2000) and The American Boy (2003), both of which won the Crime Writers’ Association of Britain’s Ellis Peters Historical Dagger award, making Taylor the only author to receive the prize twice. His Roth trilogy, which has been published in omnibus form as Requiem for an Angel (2002), was adapted by the UK’s ITV for its television show Fallen Angel. Taylor’s most recent novel is the historical thriller The Scent of Death (2013).
In this historical novel, the two mysteries are why is the boy silent and why do so many people seem to want to get their hands on him. Ultimately, I found the investigation more compelling than the answers, but I liked the book a lot. I enjoyed the author's style of writing with intelligence, intensity and humor and I thought that the period details were very well done.
The book opens in Paris in 1792 with 10 year old Charles seeking refuge after his mother Augusta is killed in the French Revolution. He is taken in by a Count, a former priest and a doctor and the whole group soon flees to England. No one can be sure of the identity of Charles's father (there are numerous candidates) but the Count is convinced that he is the father. Once the group is in England, Augusta's estranged husband Savill reluctantly asserts his parental rights to the boy.
Charles is silent. He cannot or will not speak a word since his mother's death. He has other unusual traits as well, such as his compulsion to count and recount the paces measuring his surroundings and his fascination with Louis, a creepy anatomical figure of a boy with the skin removed in order to display its muscles. Charles is a very touching and resourceful character and I loved the chapters told from his point of view, as one faction after another vied to take control of him.
The book takes its time and lets the story and the attachments between the characters develop. I did figure out the villain pretty early on, but their motivation was a surprise. I felt that the book took a fairly sordid and not very believable turn at end.
I did not read A Scent of Death, the prior book featuring Savill, but I really liked Savill as a character and this book works fine as a standalone.
I received a free copy of this book from the publisher.
As we know - or ought to anyway - Taylor is far & away the finest living author of historical crime fiction & easily amongst the top English novelists full stop. Our story begins in August 1792 with the Parisian mob sacking the Tuileries, which marked the descent of the French Revolution into its worst phase. It seems a boy named Charles has seen his mother killed & taken refuge with one of her lovers, a French aristocrat who takes the boy with him, along with his dependents, an apostate bishop & a quack doctor, into exile to a remote country house in Somerset. Mysteriously, the boy will speak to no one & remains mute regardless to threats & provocations. Whether the title character suffers from hysterical aphonia (I’ve only heard this word spoken once in real life & this is my 1st chance to use it!) or taken a vow of silence we’ll want to find out. Edward Savill, whom we last saw in The Scent of Death returning from a bootless errand to assist the Loyalist cause in North America to discover his estranged wife Augusta has eloped with a German baron, is given a new commission from Augusta’s uncle Mr. Rampton, to travel into the west to retrieve Charles, whom he apparently intends to make his heir. As Augusta had not remarried, despite numerous lovers, Savill remains in the eyes of the law the father of Charles. (I tried to remember to think of the boy’s name with both the French & English pronunciations, depending on whom he’s with.) Rampton is Savill’s patron (all civil & most military appointments in 18th-c. Britain are owing to patronage), who now seems to be an official in some obscure branch of the Post Office. Of course that tells the reader who knows the period that Rampton is some kind of a spymaster, collecting intelligence by intercepting personal communications long pre-dates the NSA. The Pitt administration was then heavily engaged in trying to suppress Jacobin influence in Britain, & Rampton arms Savill with a fistful of warrants & a bag of money to retrieve the boy & bring him to London. There are lots of crosses on the way; the Count & Savill aren’t the only ones who want to lay hold of Charles. Taylor is a master of historical crime fiction, a most difficult literary genre because it requires all the skills of a mystery story writer combined with those of a political, economic, military & naval, & social historian, with a good bit of historical linguistics thrown in as well. In The Silent Boy the word ‘police’ occurs often, almost always in places where a naÏve contemporary reader would be totally misled. You have to forget completely any associations with men in blue coats wearing helmets carrying truncheons patrolling the streets chasing baddies. (Although I was fascinated researching the OED to discover that there already was then a ‘police’ force patrolling the Thames - so Sharon Bolton’s Lacey Flint is now serving on what must be the oldest existing police force in Britain. It fits her.) Altho’ there were a few places where Taylor’s characters used expressions that I doubted would be said in the early 1790s, I spotted none that would have been impossible, unlike so many historicals that feature a linguistic anachronism on every page. Other 18th-c. artefacts add period furniture to The Silent Boy. BTW, it was not just Aristotle who believed swallows hibernated under water - wish Taylor had quoted Dr. Johnson’s saying that they ‘conglobulated’ in riverbeds. Boswell’s Life had been published & Savill could do with some good reading, just as Miss Horton, Charles, & Lizzie all love Robinson Crusoe. The écorché Charles adopts as a best friend was a marvellously macabre touch - I’d never heard of one before but it finally explained that reference to ‘a woman flayed’ in Jonathan Swift’s Tale of a Tub (& Swift’s narrator is a kind of anatomist). Best of all was Savill’s becoming a patient of the Count’s quack for some 18th-c. dental surgery. (Whenever I start to fantasize about how wonderful it would be to have lived in the 18th c., & met Dr. Johnson, I think about dentistry & am grateful to live now.) Like some of Taylor’s other books, The Silent Boy seems to lag a bit @ the middle, & I was disappointed that Miss Horton did not play a greater role later. But in the last third the book really rolls again & there was just enough twists in the ending to make it both surprising & yet entirely appropriate. I think I’d rank this one as a work of historical fiction just a little lower than The Scent of Death but ahead of Anatomy of Ghosts & maybe alongside The American Boy. But all are five stars. I found the setting of The Scent of Death a little more exotic & bizarre than The Silent Boy. (That a Yank should feel more @ home in 18th-c. England than in America may seem odd, but Drs. Swift & Johnson & Miss Jane Austen used to pay my salary.) Naturally we want a sequel, like the Roth trilogy. Charles would be a young man just in time for the wars against Napoleon, & as native speaker of French would make a superb British spy. Having been Rampton’s understudy Savill would be just the right age to be the M of the age of Napoleon. Also Mss Horton ought to get the attention she deserved, & as Savill is a widower . . . If only there were some way Taylor could bring back Mehitabel Tippet from The Scent of Death. I miss her. That’s one of Taylor’s great gifts, to create minor characters who are unforgettable. This is a story you’ll learn from & remember. What a hugely good year for crime fiction this is turning out to be!
Andrew Taylor is one of our greatest living historical novelists... no, scratch the historical, he's one of our greatest living novelists, period. Always inspiring, his sense of time and place are impeccable and, as ever, the inexorable draw from apparent-normality into a world of increasing danger is hair-raising and gut-clenching, but there's a lyricism in the darkness that leavens the mix and makes the characters, even the grim ones, engaging. The Silent Boy is a direct sequel to A Scent of Death and sees Edward Savill returned to England, negotiating the ghastly chicane between his duty to his estranged wife's son by another man, his responsibility to the rest of her family, and his increasing mistrust of the men who are taking care of the boy. Charles himself, either cannot speak or will not…and the reason why is one of those plot twists that leave the rest of us open-mouthed with wonder. This is a glorious, beautiful book, full of surprise and intelligence - make it your must-read of the year...
A superb companion volume to the author's The Scent of Death, with that novel's protagonist Arthur Savill ten years older and now dealing with the son of his unfaithful wife who has perished in revolutionary Paris. The boy has been traumatised by apparently witnessing the brutal act and now refuses to talk or communicate with those around him. But there are those who wish to silence him permanently.
The narrative is Dickensian in scope and tone, but subtle and moving as it focuses on the mute boy Charles, his fears and his attempts to survive and to make sense of his situation. This is highly intelligent writing, capturing as few historical novels can the atmosphere, culture and nuances of the period in which it is set. In addition, there is a really good story for the reader to enjoy. I recommend The Silent Boy very highly.
”Say nothing. Not a word to anyone. Whatever you see. Whatever you hear. Do you understand? Say nothing.”
Paris, 1792 The Tuileries Palace is stormed by the mob, and nearby a ten-year-old boy witnesses a traumatic event. He is spirited away to England, and Edward Savill accepts the task of retrieving the boy from Charnwood Court, a country estate where young Charles is living with some French émigrés. Easier said than done! Two of the many problems encountered in what was perceived to be a simple task are a) a nasty toothache, and b) the boy is mute.
What follows is a story full of twists, turns and riddle upon riddle. What precisely did Charles experience in Paris and why? Who is the man in the blue coat and dark hat who keeps watch on Charnwood Court? And then there is the question of the boy’s paternity. Who is his real father, and who can legally claim him? Why do they all want him in the first place?
That is as much of the plot as I care to reveal, but here is something about the character of the boy in question: Charles is a boy whose world has been turned upside down, and he doesn’t trust anyone anymore - not even himself. Louis, the écorché, becomes his imaginary friend, the only one with whom Charles communicates in his thoughts, but eventually he realises the futility of this “friendship”. Charles frequently wets the bed, and is punished for it and the boy turns to facts for comfort. He paces and he measure and he observes and he establishes routines for comfort. ”But gradually he accumulates information. It is not much but it is something. Facts are solid things. You may trust them, unlike people." "A fact is not like a person, who may be here one day and gone the next. Or kind at one moment and cruel at another." "Inside his head, Charles begins to count up all the facts he knows. Somewhere between a hundred and two hundred he falls asleep.” He obsessively measures and follows his routines: ”Next he does the counting, to make sure nothing has changed since the morning. The room is six and a third paces long and four and a half wide, not counting the alcoves on either side of the fireplace, one of which has been boxed in to form a cupboard. These measurements make a fortress of facts that protects him as he sleeps.” He finds himself reassured by the game of chess: "When all the pieces are in their pre-ordained places, he admires the neatness and regularity of the display. The pattern they make is fixed in his memory." "Best of all, everything follows the rules: if only one had a big enough brain, Charles thinks, it should be perfectly possible to calculate the outcome from the very first move.” The two dice in his pocket comfort him; the numbers are facts! And he is enchanted by the story of Robinson Crusoe, with whom he identifies. "A moment later he is alone, as solitary as Mr Crusoe on his desert island.” "He and Crusoe are similar, for each of them has been imprisoned by solitude, Crusoe by being shipwrecked on a desert island and Charles by the loss of his voice.”
But still the boy does not speak, and so he remains an enigma. "‘Will you speak?’ Dr Gohlis asks. ‘Will you?’ Charles says nothing." ”‘Parley voo? Eh? Parley voo?’” they shout in his face, but no reply… Is he mad? He is rumoured to be: ”‘The mad mute. He runs wild at night and bites the heads off cats and chickens.’” It is Edward Savill who brings sanity and normality with him. It is he who says: ”‘He is more than a dog or a baby, ma’am,’ Savill said, his voice sharpening. ‘He is perfectly capable of thought, and of feeling. It’s merely that he’s a prisoner. A prisoner in his own silence.’”
Dreadfully dull. The focus was on the historical setting rather than the story. It’s not too long before you don’t care why the boy is silent or what he saw to make him silent.
A historical thriller set during the French Revolution that just built and built to a frenetic finish.
Edward Savill learns that his estranged wife been killed in France and left behind a 10-year-old son. It seems a simple enough task for Edward to fetch the boy that has been brought to England by French refugees.
Nothing proves simple, though. One of the emigres claims that the boy Charles is his son, though as he was still legally married to his wife, Savill has legal guardianship of the boy who has become mute. Did he witness his mother's death? Who does he trust now?
Many mysteries abound here and nothing is predictable.
Andrew Taylor is an accomplished author I will turn to again.
I think the story lost its impetus in the middle but apart from that I really enjoyed it. I’m on a real reading kick at the moment and I’m getting through books quite quickly but I don’t think that had anything to do with my enjoyment of this book. The characters were all pretty well fleshed out apart from the ones who weren’t for a specific reason. The plot was interesting and I guessed the bad guy fairly late which is always a good sign for the book. I will definitely read more from this writer.
Taylor delivers another edge-of-your-seat historical thriller, this time with a psychosomatically mute boy at the center of things (he witnessed his mother's murder). Not a spoiler - this happens on page one. The rest is an exciting chase to see who will find the boy: his French father; his English mother's husband; or the murderer?
Ultimately I would have to say that I did enjoy this book, but I do feel however that it was miss sold by stating in some blurbs about the novel, that it's set during the French revolution. It may well be, but it certainly isn't about the French revolution and apart from the short introductions to the story at the very beginning, it's not even set in France! So, to immediately come away with a feeling of being cheated by The Silent Boy (TSB), right from the off, is not a good start!
Unfortunately TSB suffered from the same problem in places, as the same authors novel, "The American Boy" (TAB), in that it did tend to drag things out a bit, instead of just getting on with the story. For example, when on chapters where we were seeing what was happening to the main protagonist, Charles (the silent boy), it did tend to be way more descriptive than was necessary, with like, whole chapters dedicated to describing the inside of a cupboard! The over descriptive narrative of Charles's chapters were forehead smackingly frustrating and at times, extremely dull.
The overall novel though, was very atmospheric and again, like TAB, was indubitably gothic, with the gentlemanly conduct on the surface always unable to conceal the dark undercurrents of murderous intrigue and twisted incestuous passions lurking devilishly around every corner!
I also enjoyed the merest of nods to the author's Marwood and Lovett books, with Henrietta Street's little cameo!
Edward Savill is given word that his estranged wife has been murdered in France. Her son, Charles witnessed the murder and as a way of protection and keeping silent refuses to speak. Savill is sent to collect Charles and bring him back but of course it does not go smoothly and there are various obstacles and kidnappings and crimes committed along the way. I really wanted to enjoy this book as it is exactly my sort of read but I did not. This is quite a long book, 440 pages and I did not think much happened in it, when I was at 340 pages or so I realised that I could not think of much plot, there is not much to the plot and Taylor seems to drag it out and turns what could be an exciting read into a slow read. The first hundred pages or so are also a very slow and dull read. Taylor does recreate the atmosphere very well, it does feel like you are there with the characters which is a bonus to the book. However I did not think there was much character development, none of them had much going for them and I did not find it enjoyable to read about their lives in this book. Having said that thee last 150 pages are quite exciting and this is when the plot picks up a bit and everything is resolved, I found this to be quite enjoyable and if only the book was a bit shorter then I feel that the whole book would have been a much better read.
Andrew Taylor is such a talented writer. His ability to capture time and place is fantastic. The historical detail is rich and layered, and from the first chapter, you are thrown into the chaos of the French Revolution.
I didn't realise initially that this book is a follow-up to "A Scent of Death" and it's fair to say that this book doesn't rely on previous knowledge and can easily be read completely as a stand-alone. The story is wonderfully written and is a gripping tale of suspense.
The story follows two main threads, there's Charles, a young boy, who has gone into self-imposed muteness after witnessing a traumatising event. Then there's the main lead, Edward Savill, who understands the boy to be the son of his estranged wife and assumes responsibility for him.
The style takes a little getting used to, but stick with it. I believe it is intentionally challenging as it is being used to emphasise the mute world that Charles lives in, knowing he can speak, but wilfully choosing not to. The book also does a great job of highlighting the treatment of someone who was considered different at the time. It also subtly teases out the issues of mental health and PTSD that Charles would have experienced.
This book can be a challenging read at times but is filled with character, atmosphere, story, and style. It's definitely worth a read.
Paris, 1792. Terror reigns as the city writhes in the grip of revolution. The streets run with blood as thousands lose their heads to the guillotine. Edward Savill, working in London as agent for a wealthy American, receives word that his estranged wife Augusta has been killed in France. She leaves behind ten-year-old Charles, who is brought to England to Charnwood Court, a house in the country leased by a group of émigré refugees.
Savill is sent to retrieve the boy, though it proves easier to reach Charnwood than to leave. And only when Savill arrives there does he discover that Charles is mute. The boy has witnessed horrors beyond his years, but what terrible secret haunts him so deeply that he is unable to utter a word?
Hush now. Say nothing.
Another thoroughly enjoyable novel by this author this time set during the French Revolution.
An intelligent twisting plot about a boy who believes his silence is the only thing that will save his life in dangerous times.
The characters are beautifully drawn, the sense of time and place exemplary. The book is gripping, immersive and demands your attention, though it's not a page turner as such.
Taylor is an author who's been recommended to me countless times. As ever, time poor and book rich, I don't get to such books for what seems an age. I have to confess that this time period wouldn't be my 'go to' age, even though I enjoyed Scarlet Pimpernel books etc when I was younger. Setting my reservations aside, I bought this book recently - and boy, it's a fantastic read. Taylor knows his period, that's for sure - the historical detail is rich, layered, and feels 100% authentic - in the best possible sense. The characters are drawn really well, in particular the child Charles, Savill, his step-father, and Rampton, the scheming politician. The plot twists and turns with Machiavellian deviousness, keeping the reader guessing almost to the last page. If there was one nitpick I'd have, it's the constant references to time 'five minutes', 'ten minutes' and so on. Coming from the mouths/experiences of rich and poor alike, it grated. Almost no one would have had a good appreciation of time in the late 18th century - watches belonged to rich people, and were notoriously inaccurate. Church bells would have given some indication of time, but it would have been 'quarter hours' or 'half hours' etc. A tiny niggle in an otherwise first class novel.
Great book. Could not put this book down. The central character, Charles, was so compelling that once I started reading I had to find out how this young boy survived. The twists and turns moved so fast I found myself invested in Charles's survival. The author made him such that you had to find out why he had become mute. The multiple other characters kept me confused as to who was behind it all. The stepfather character in the book is indeed playing a roll but you never understand his background history. Needless to say his part in trying to save Charles keeps leading you to other compelling people who also play a great role in his life both good and bad. Then about the 20th chapter it became very clear to me who it was that had scared the 10 year old into silence. Turned out I was right. The most disappointing part of book was the last 3 paragraphs when I said hold it this for real. This author has written many other books and I plan to read them all. My new favorite author. I definitely recommend to everyone to read this book.
A fantastic example of both crime and historical fiction, 'The Silent Boy' hits the mark on so many levels. It was confronting, exciting, visceral and deeply human and I enjoyed every minute of it.
Andrew Taylor transports us to Revolutionary France and the sleepy English countryside manors of England. He paints a vivid and appropriately unpleasant picture of the time period, and his characters are flawed yet likeable. The pacing is perfect, leaving clues throughout the plot and creating coincidences which somehow manage not to feel contrived. His rendering of Charles, the mute protagonist is wonderful. We get a rare glimpse in to the psychology of a child who has witnessed horrors, and how he chooses to cope with them.
I found 'The Silent Boy' to be a thoroughly engrossing read, and I would recommend it to fans of both crime novels and historical fiction. Not since C. J. Sansom's 'Shardlake' series has a writer combined both genres so well.
I started to give this book 4 starts. The depiction of Charles's PTSD and the development of the other major characters was great (even though I predicted who the big bad guy was from his very first scene.)
Then, I got to the last 1/3 of the book. it felt kind of rushed, and the last chapter made absolutely no sense whatsoever. ok, 3 stars.
Then, I had a couple of refrigerator moments. One of the secondary characters who did the clunky, expository denoument appeared throughout the book. He knew EVERYTHING. Why didn't he speak up when Saville was looking for Charles. Also, Saville was collecting Charles to take him to Rampton. Why did Rampton have to kidnap the boy? If he had waited a few days, Saville would have delivered him safe and sound. Less muss, less fuss. this book gets 2 stars in the end.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
I won this in the giveaways in exchange for an honest review.
Starting in the Terror of 1792, a young boy runs from his home covered in his mother's blood and seeks refuge with a former servant. He refuses to speak so nobody knows what happened. He's transported to the English countryside where his mother's estranged husband is sent to retrieve him and bring him into the bosom of his 'family'. Mystery surrounds the boy's lack of speech and the circumstances of his mother's death. Then, he is kidnapped by an unknown party. This book was not a page turner in the sense that it was non-stop action but I had to keep going to get to the heart of the intrigue and Taylor's masterful writing made it so gripping. I want to read more by this author now.
This book got good reviews and I was looking forward to it. I enjoyed the start with great atmospheric descriptions of the what it was like in France at the time of the Revolution. After that it started to go downhill. I don’t very often give up on a book, but by the time I was 1/3 of the way, I lost interest and was forcing myself to read with the hope it might improve. I was well written and depicted the period accurately, however this wasn’t enough to make me want to continue. I gave it 2 stars.
Augusta, the estranged wife of Edward Savill, is savagely murdered during the terror of the French Revolution. Her young son, Charles, is found wandering the streets of Paris covered in blood and unable to speak. Brought to England, Charles remains mute and Savill, the boy's legal guardian, sets out to discover what has terrified the child into silence. Taylor won the Crime Writer's Association Historical Dagger for The Scent of Death in 2014.
This was a new author for me. Set during the early days of the Terror in France, this is a mystery about the parentage of a young boy who witnesses the murder of his mother. The protagonist Savill must unravel the circumstances about his estranged wife's death and find the location of her son. The book is full of period detail and creepy characters, and the story is propelled by the boy's inability to speak due to his traumatic experiences.
An enjoyable and challenging stroll through late 18th century Europe with its’ integrated old English phrase and detailed views of the times and ways. Andrew Taylor’s complex, not forthcoming and layered character development did lead to some confusion but does certainly reveal a strong plot and twisting tale. Looking forward to trying another of his many novels as his writing strength is without question. More of a 3.5 rather than a 3.
Another splendidly written historical novel from Andrew Taylor set at the time of the French Revolution. Given that the plot is quite slow moving the book manages to hold its interest throughout. It also reminds you how much easier things would have been had the characters had mobile phones - even the Silent Boy could have sent texts!
I felt this book was written in a foreign language and then translated by someone in their second year of learning. Yeah the words were probably all correct, but it just didn’t seem to have the correct flow. Mayen it was the time period with footmen and maids that distracted from the story, but it just never seemed to get any momentum. I’d pass on this one.
I agree with the other reviewers that the end was very lackluster. Even being prepared for it left me with so many questions. Very disappointing for such a rich, satisfying book. Characters are well developed and the pace is a page Turner. Is there a second book coming? I hope so because we want answer!!
I had high hopes for this book. I loved Taylor’s books set in and around The Great Fire of London but I confess this left me cold. The pacing and structure felt leaden in places and it was a tough slog to get to the (admittedly good) final third.
As always with Andrew Taylor the prose is excellent and the period feel on point. I just struggled with this one more than I expected to.
I really did not get this book. I found the characters tiresome and after about 150 pages I didn’t really care what happened to Charles... or anyone else. I don’t know how else to say but it was completely boring.