Our October CC Book Club selection is The Essex Serpent by Sarah Perry. This acclaimed historical novel, set in 19th century England, is the story of a young widow who travels to coastal Essex and gets caught up in the search for a mythical sea serpent that has both enthralled and terrified the local residents. Perry’s novel was selected as the 2017 British Book Awards Fiction Book of the Year, the Waterstones Book of the Year, and a Costa Book Award Finalist.
It’s October 1st! I hope all is well with everyone, especially those who might recently have been in the path of hurricanes, earthquakes and wildfires. It’s been a frightening couple of months in that regard.
Welcome to our discussion of The Essex Serpent.
More than a mystery about a sea serpent, this book, to me, was about the mysteries of the human heart – why we love those whom we love, and the nature of desire.
Despite the various couples in the novel, the story is not really about romantic love, which (at least in Cora and Will’s case) is viewed almost as an unwelcome by-product of a close relationship. In fact, there are so many distinctly different types of love described in the novel that I looked up the four categories as defined by the ancient Greeks: Eros, Phileo, Storge, and Agape: https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Greek_words_for_love
I think we could easily find examples of all four among the interesting cast of characters.
And though it’s not an official category, I would have to throw “Unrequited” in there for poor Spencer’s sake.
Did you enjoy the novel? I did. Although there was no character that I fully embraced, each one had his or her moments of beauty.
Hoping to finish the book today. I had a hard time getting into it, but started to get more intrigued at the halfway point. I think it’s because I really didn’t “love” any of the main characters, but I guess that’s the point, that we’re a complex mix of things.
I’m all about characters. I found something to like in everyone we spent any time with. I liked their complexity, their ability to grow and change, the fact that no one was good or evil. It felt Victorian enough to me - though I suspect there were some things that were anachronisms, the only thing that bothered me was the style of some of the letters. It’s been a long time since I read a Victorian novel with the exception of Far from the Madding Crowd. I haven’t read any actual collections of letters from that time period so I could easily be wrong about their breeziness. I know letters were much more like IMs then. Postal delivery was twice a day, and England is just not that big, so those messages got to each other relatively quickly. And like IM’s, there is room for misunderstandings when things are misread. (Jumping ahead to Question 8, I think Luke totally overreacted to Cora’s letter.)
To @mathmom’s point, I think the book feels very contemporary. I looked not once but twice to be sure I wasn’t wrong about the year in which it was set. I think Sarah Perry must have anticipated some pushback on this, because she addresses it right away in the Author’s Note at the end of the book:
I’ve read a fair amount of Victorian fiction and I’ll agree with the feminism part. As I think I’ve said before, I love North and South by Elizabeth Gaskell (a contemporary of Dickens) and her heroine Margaret Hale is no wilting violet, that’s for sure. There are a few letters in North and South and there is definitely a “breezy” element to the ones Margaret receives from her cousin Edith (“affectionate and inconsequent like the writer”). But those letters are between female relations. In The Essex Serpent, I was surprised that Cora felt so free to express herself openly in letters to men (but good for her, of course). I agree with @mathmom about Cora’s letter to Luke. It sounded just like her—was he really expecting a different response from the woman he knew and loved so well?
Another here who thinks Luke overreacted to Cora’s letter … but then steps back and thinks “Well, that’s Luke.” Let’s just say that he lacks insight when it comes to reading people (and obviously letters).
Interestingly, while aware that Cora occupies the main character slot, for me she isn’t. Secondary characters kept my interest and blurred Cora’s import. I don’t know whether that’s a good thing or bad but Martha, Francis, Luke, Spencer and so on - I felt more clearly defined and of interest.
Agree with ignatius that it was hard to find Cora’s voice - I guess that is the point, that she needed to find her path to freedom in her way. The supporting characters were more markedly dramatic, even autistic Francis. (Btw, I kind of loved how he turned Crackwell’s attention to the night sky as he was dying.)
I could never really warm up to Cora. She seemed self-centered — although even as I write that, it doesn’t seem fair to say it. I suppose a woman had to be somewhat self-centered in order to gain any real independence in that era, yet I think Martha managed to do it while still demonstrating an astute way of seeing and understanding other people.
I liked Will. His struggle was oh so very Reverend Dimmesdale. I couldn’t help but think of Dimmesdale and Hester during the scene when Will and Cora walk in the woods. There is even an echo of The Scarlet Letter in the peculiarities shared by Francis and Pearl. In Hawthorne’s tale, Pearl’s strange behavior is supposed to represent the “wrongness” of the union between Dimmesdale and Hester. I wonder if in a similar way, Francis’ unusual personality in some way represents the skewed relationship between Cora and her abusive husband.
I agree that Cora was in many ways the least likable and hardest to pin down. I do think that’s because she’d spent so long trying to be invisible to her husband that she’s really figuring out who she is - sort of a delayed adolescence with all the annoying attributes of your average teenager. But I still liked her spunk and her unwillingness to conform to society’s expectations for her. I hope she and Luke can find their way back to being friends, and perhaps something more.
I have to say that while I read The Scarlet Letter - as a grown up! - I never the less remember nothing.
I loved Francis. Maybe partly because I have a kid, who while not autistic as far as I know, is clearly nevertheless on the spectrum.
I’m about halfway through, so I’m not reading through the comments, yet! So far this novel feels very fresh and contemporary in its scope. I just love the range of issues broached, so far. I’m slowly warming to Cora, although initially I thought I’d dislike her because of the way she brushed off her son’s care. I’ve been busy reading today–fascinated by the mirage on the horizon, the sides taken with science vs. religion, and the developing and easy friendships.
The freedom Francis has in the late 19th century to come and go as he pleases in relative safety is a gift he could never really have in the modern age. In that way, I suppose he would be happier in his own time. Yet as he ages, what do you think is in store for him in the Victorian world? How will he be viewed by others?
Re PlantMom’s observation, I don’t think Cora brushed off care of Francis because of a lack of love or desire to shirk her responsibility. Rather, I think she just didn’t have the tools to deal with such a unique child. And she was still so young herself when he was born.
I think Cora took care of Francis as much as any upper middle class woman of her era did. It simply wasn’t their job In any event, I cannot blame her for not knowing what you do with a kid who doesn’t like being hugged and cuddled. I have a kid who is probably very high functioning Asperger’s. (Not diagnosed - he had mild Tourettes and very mild OCD according to a neurologist we took him to when he was 9 or 10.) Lots of food and clothing issues. In the end he seemed to be on the normal end of the spectrum - but he’s still a bit eccentric. He’s been employed in his dream job for the last three years. I found it a little hard to believe that Francis would be happier at a British public (private) school than with his family, but maybe he would like the order and structure if he wasn’t bullied.
I love how Francis and Stella connect at the end - understand and accept each other. That connection between them moves Francis to run to Cora for help. Compare that to the almost clinical detachment that Francis feels for Crackwell at the end; Crackwell implores Francis to run for help and he doesn’t - doesn’t see the need.
(Francis and Stella are two of my favorite characters - among more than a few others - just not Cora or Will.)
And though Cora questions her bond with her son, Francis runs to her for help and she handles him well.
I also enjoyed the Francis/Stella connection - their heightened sensitivities made it seem believable. I didn’t get the Martha/Joanna pairing - that seemed contrived. There were so many pairings and unpairings in this novel - some worked better than others.
I couldn’t help but think of Dimmesdale and Hester during the scene when Will and Cora walk in the woods. There is even an echo of The Scarlet Letter in the peculiarities shared by Francis and Pearl. In Hawthorne’s tale, Pearl’s strange behavior is supposed to represent the “wrongness” of the union between Dimmesdale and Hester. I wonder if in a similar way, Francis’ unusual personality in some way represents the skewed relationship between Cora and her abusive husband.