The Bishop's Man: A Novel, by Linden MacIntyre (2009)

This was a blind take from the library. Had no clue what I was getting into. Surprisingly good.

The Facts

Length: 399 pages.

Publisher: Random House Canada.

This is MacIntyre's second novel.

Quick Summary

Duncan MacAskill is a Catholic priest who plays the role of the bishop's "internal affairs." He's spent his past life punishing and moving around "problem individuals" in the priesthood. During the 1990s, however, when the media starts to get wind of a scandal close to Duncan, the bishop sends him to an abandoned parish, painfully close to Duncan's childhood home. Instead of escape, Duncan finds pain, confusion, and tragedy. The novel centralizes on the separation between the cloth and the man wearing it.

The story is told in first-person. MacIntyre "jumps" through time, quite a bit; it's easy to get lost in the back-and-forth-and-sideways timeline.

The Good

This novel is thoroughly "Canadian." Always a plus in my books. Along that line, MacIntyre's able to paint a tragically beautiful portrait of the Canadian Maritimes: decaying history, the flight of youth, the quiet landscape of a dying seaside town...MacIntyre clinches the setting in all the right spots. You can smell the tang of the sea in the air and can feel the cold of a lonely winter. The setting sets the tone for the moral uncertainty which seems to hang over the novel.

MacIntyre also seems to be pretty tactful when it comes to having a Catholic protagonist. I thought, initially, that MacAskill might be a little off-putting or overzealous, but the character never comes off that way. He's understandable and likable. He's a keen observer and gives good advice, but none of it seems to come from vague dogma or a stale religiosity. I didn't expect him to be as worldly and solid as he is. I'm not sure if this "secularity" will appeal to readers hopeful for a more religious novel, but it was surprisingly effective in my case.

The Bad

Timeline jumps make it somewhat hard to trace Duncan's past. Unless you're writing it all down (don't bother), you'll probably get a tad confused along the way. It never seems to be anything that effects the plot in any major way, but it'd be nice if MacIntyre was a little more linear in his progression of his storytelling.

The start of the novel is a little groan-worthy - you think that MacIntyre's trying a little too hard to be both a modernist and great writer. Sure, he keeps up with the modernist time jumps, but he seems to ease into the flow of the novel and drops the alien and off-putting descriptions pretty quickly, for the benefit of us all.

Final Thoughts

A surprisingly solid novel. Like Wolf Hall, it's given me more faith in literary awards. Hard to put down.

Arbitrary Score: 4.4 out of 5.

Next book: Ready Player One, by Ernest Cline (2011)

Wolf Hall, by Hilary Mantel (2009)

I've never heard of Mantel before. My own knowledge of Henry VIII and Thomas Cromwell is nil (unless we're counting my history class from Grade 8). The only experience I have with the novel's timeline is Crusader Kings II, so...


This novel is brilliant. It gives me faith in awards again (Wolf Hall won the 2009 Man Booker prize). But be forewarned, young reader: you will tire of pronouns. Very quickly.

The Facts

Length:  650 pages.

Publisher: Fourth Estate.

This is Mantel's twelfth novel.

Quick Summary

Historical novel which follows the rise to power of one Thomas Cromwell, blacksmith's son (1485-1535). The novel's central plot revolves around Anne Boleyn's marriage to England's King Henry VIII and subsequent fallout with the Catholic Church.

The story is told in third-person. Note: Mantel rarely, if ever, uses the name "Thomas Cromwell", instead opting for the vague and unspecific pronoun "he." A long novel at 650 pages, this can be a little tough to organize in one's head, especially when multiple male characters are involved in a scene. But my rule of thumb: when in doubt, "he" always refers to Cromwell. Mantel will make distinctions when it comes to other male characters. It's different, and a little off-putting, but the dedication pays off.

The Good

What's not to like? It's gritty, it's formal, it's kings and courts and all their noble failings. Mantel makes it incredibly easy to relate to Cromwell and the history behind his rise to power deliciously interesting. I want to go back to university and take a history major. I want to delve into archival footage (is that actually a thing) and research the beginnings of the Anglican Church. Mantel doesn't stress the romanticism of the age (as I'm wary other novels, like The Other Boleyn Girl, might) but rather underlines a great deal of subtle inner workings within the courtier system that influence the outcome Henry's decisions (to get married, to get the marriage annulled, to grant and remove favors...).

The Bad
Sure, the novel deals with the relationship between the Boleyn's integration into the royal court, but that history is somewhat resolved after two-thirds of the novel. So the novel lacks a definitive climax - one could argue, perhaps, that Thomas More's movement versus Thomas Cromwell's movement formed the main backdrop of conflict...but that's only a statement you could make once you've gotten to the ending. More always seems more of a fringe character to the narrative than anything else.

A lot of what spurred my interest was the hope that Cromwell would get married again, and maybe to Jane Seymour (if you know what happens to Seymour before reading this novel, I hope you're absolutely disgusted with my knowledge of the period). It would make sense, right? The novel's name is "Wolf Hall", named after the residence of the Seymour family - and yet absolutely none of the action takes place there. But Mantel leaves us hanging. 

Final Thoughts

An  unusual and modernistic system of pronoun usage slightly detracts from an otherwise brilliant historical novel. Recommended for those that have even a passing interest in the era, for those that play Crusader Kings II, and for anyone who can get past the incredible number of "he"s in this book.

Arbitrary Score: 4.8 out of 5.

The Year of the Flood: A Novel*, by Margaret Atwood (2009)

Atwood's a pretty thrilling author - this is the third of her novels I've read, and each one leaves me wanting more. I wasn't sure Oryx and Crake was planned as the first of a trilogy, but apparently The Year of the Flood is the second book of three. So: if you've read Oryx and Crake, and liked it, then yes, this continues that legacy. Poor advertising, though; only a small throwaway line on the back of the cover seems to note the connection between the two novels.

The Facts

Length: 431 pages.

Publisher: Vintage Canada.

This is Atwood's thirteenth novel. It is part two of three.

Quick Summary

Most of the novel travels through the flashbacks of Toby and Ren, "before the waterless flood." Ren is actually a minor character present in Oryx and Crake, but the character seemed to meld out of the narrative fold by the time I read The Year of the Flood. Regrettable: Ren's character actually picks up some steam by the time Flood ends, and now I'll have to re-read Oryx to examine Ren's influence on Jimmy's childhood.

Like its predecessor, this novel's narrative deals with the time leading up to the coming apocalypse, rather than the efforts to deal with the flood's consequences. If you're expecting The Road, you'll be disappointed. But we get a glimpse into the philosophy behind the apocalypse, and that's extremely valuable information to have if you're going to be treading back to the paths of Oryx.

Toby's tale is told in third-person, while Ren's is told in first-person. I'm not sure why Atwood did it. It seems to have an alienating effect.

The Good

Toby is amazing. I wasn't too fond of Ren, for most of the storyline: Ren's first-person recollection seems to permanently place in her in a thirteen-year-old's world view, but Toby's hardened, pragmatic, and infinitely more fun to read.

As I mentioned before, this novel does lend a great deal of background history into the more vital elements in Crake, like the MaddAddam videogame or the reasoning behind Crake's omnicide. Crake's character was always pretty hard to decode in the first novel, where he was a major character, but now we can understand him more, even though he's a minor character.

The Bad

What we really want to know, at the end of Oryx, is who Snowman sees after his return to the Crakers. This novel tells us (which might be a bit of a spoiler, if you can put two and two together: apologies). But then we realize - Atwood is great for this - we didn't want that. We wanted more. We wanted Snowman to meet them and then somehow continue on his merry adventures throughout the post-apocalyptic wasteland. And while we're not necessarily adamant on the merry part, Atwood's always kind of a literary tease when it comes to giving us the very basics of what we want. And then the novel ends! We only get a couple pages of what-happens-next.

Ren's a bit of a drag to read. When we see the same event through both Toby and Ren's eyes, Toby's perspective always seems to draw us in more deeply. I only started to really think Ren was cool until the final chapters. And then the novel ends!

*The Ugly
ugh did subtitles die or something

Final Thoughts

If you've read Oryx and Crake, read Flood. It adds a significant chunk of replay value (can you use that term in reference to books?) to Oryx, and gets you amped up for the yet-to-come final book. But the genetic splicing and cloning isn't really Atwood's forte - sometimes it seems like she's trying to imitate Brave New World in all the wrong ways. So I'd caution against starting with Flood as "Baby's First Atwood." Make sure you can read her first.

Arbitrary Score: 3.7 out of 5.

Next book: Wolf Hall, by Hilary Mantel (2009)