May 22, 1130am ~~ I discovered Arthur Conan Doyle's historical novels a few years ago when I read The White Company and then its prequel Sir Nigel. Ever since then I have had a list of Doyle titles waiting for me.
Doyle was born in the month of May so I chose him as my Literary Birthday author, thinking it would be a good way to finally get started on that list, so here we are.
Micah Clarke was published in 1889 so seems to have been the first of his historical novels. The story deals with England's Monmouth Rebellion of 1685. Must admit, this was an event I knew absolutely nothing about and during the first few chapters, while Doyle set the stage for his tale, I was more than a little confused about the religious aspect of life at the time as well as who was who in the political field. But I soon got straightened out enough to understand what was going on.
MIcah himself tells the story, as you can tell from the subtitle. He is sharing his memories with his grandchildren:
It may be, my dear grandchildren, that at one time or another I have told you nearly all the incidents which have occurred during my adventurous life. To your father and to your mother, at least, I know that none of them are unfamiliar. Yet when I consider that time wears on, and that a grey head is apt to contain a failing memory, I am prompted to use these long winter evenings in putting it all before you from the beginning, that you may have it as one clear story in your minds, and pass it on as such to those who come after you.
Now maybe this format was the reason I could never quite get myself attached to Micah, I do not know. The most interesting character for me was the soldier of fortune Decimus Saxon, who became the leader of the men leaving Micah's village to fight for Monmouth. I also was tickled by Sir Gervas Jerome, a minor nobleman who joined the group on the way to the fight. He was on the run from his creditors, and he was bored with life, seeking adventure for the mere sensation of feeling something. He was a light-hearted man who truly did not seem to care whether he lived or died, as long as he looked decent.
In this bag, too, I retain the means for preserving that niceness and elegance of person which made me, though I say it, as well groomed a man as ever set foot in St. James’s Park. Here are French scissors, eyebrow brush, toothpick case, patch-box, powder-bag, comb, puff, and my pair of red-heeled shoes. What could a man wish for more?
Indeed. At first I thought he would be a drag on the group (so did Micah) but he proved himself more than once and by the end of the book I adored the man almost as much as I adored Saxon.
Micah is sent to fight because his father was too old to go. He had been a Roundhead with Cromwell's army, and still believed that his religion was the Only One. So Micah agrees to go represent the family honor. He has many adventures in the short time of the rebellion, but as I said, he never seemed real to me. Not even when he would break in on the narrative to remind his grandchildren that he had lived the story:
And if what I tell you should ever chance to differ from what you have read in the book of Mr. Coke or of Mr. Oldmixon, or of any one else who has set these matters down in print, do ye bear in mind that I am telling of what I saw with these very eyes, and that I have helped to make history, which is a higher thing than to write it.
I liked the story but I did not feel that urge to Read Read Read the way I had with the previous Doyle historical novels I had finished. I have been a little distracted during my computer time this last few weeks, and it was easier than I expected to switch to other diversions, which is why it took me so long to finish the book.
One of the things that leaped out at me from these pages is that organized religion was once again responsible for death and bloodshed. Even Micah's parents, while both Protestant, were of different mindsets.
Father:
The old Puritan soldier held that the bible alone contained all things essential to salvation, and that though it might be advisable that those who were gifted with wisdom or eloquence should expound the Scriptures to their brethren, it was by no means necessary, but rather hurtful and degrading, that any organised body of ministers or of bishops should claim special prerogatives, or take the place of mediators between the creature and the Creator.
Mother:
My mother, on the other hand, held that the very essence of a church was that it should have a hierarchy and a graduated government within itself, with the king at the apex, the archbishops beneath him, the bishops under their control, and so down through the ministry to the common folk. Such was, in her opinion, the Church as established in the beginning, and no religion without these characteristics could lay any claim to being the true one.
But of course they both hated the Roman Catholic faith. As did all the men who joined Monmouth's cause. No such thing as tolerance in those days. Not much of it in ours either, when you get right down to brass tacks, though. We may have made a little progress but overall there is still the distrust and hatred of anything considered Other. Shameful isn't it. You would think that after all these years Man would understand Life better, but it does not seem to be so.
Well, anyway, back to the book. I did not think it was as powerful or as entertaining a book as I expected it to be, but I can definitely say that I am much more familiar with the Monmouth Rebellion than I was before.
There are six titles left on my Doyle list so I will be looking for more adventure Someday.