The
Miniaturist is Jessie Burton's debut novel and it is, quite simply,
extraordinary. I know that it has been hyped to death (as is the way of things)
but to my mind it still exceeded any of my pre-conceived expectations. I am in
awe of her skill in creating such a brave, daring and thoroughly entertaining tragic
novel.
Set in
Amsterdam in 1686 it charts the fall of a wealthy dysfunctional family as their
dark secrets are slowly revealed. Wealthy merchant Johannes Brandt commissions
a cabinet-sized replica of his wife Nella’s new marital home. However its
furnishings and puppet inhabitants are created for Nella by an elusive and
enigmatic miniaturist, whose tiny creations mirror the lost loves and hidden
hopes of their real life counterparts.
Burton's cast
are brilliantly drawn, particularly Marin, Johannes’ dark and intriguing sister
who slowly emerged as my favourite character. Everything about the book is
meticulous, from the deft plotting to the complex interwoven narrative. I found
myself totally immersed in this compelling story as meals went uncooked and the
dog unwalked - (I'll make it up to her!)
Burton's
foreshadowing of the darker secrets within the household is effortlessly done,
and the intrigue grows around Nella like a spider’s web. Some of the riddles
can be deduced by the reader, others spill out through chance observations and
fate. However every aspect appears to be known to the mysterious miniaturist
who sends Nella a succession of tiny gifts, each a metaphor that echoes Nella's
life yet which also appears to accurately predict her future.
Elliptically
convoluted, the story is like a maze, with half-truths wrapped within secrets
and lies. The pleasure of unravelling these enigmas is palpable; as a reader I
found some easy to deduce, whilst others were more skilfully concealed.
One of her
hardest juggling acts is managing Nella's development from wide-eyed innocent
to a strident and forceful woman in charge of her own destiny. Those are difficult waters to navigate successfully,
and occasionally Nella seems to vacillate between the two extremes, but to me her
voice remained convincing throughout.
If I'm being
critical I find that occasionally Jessie's writing is a little overblown; it’s
as if she feels the need to create a writerly description when sometimes a more
direct and simplistic passage will suffice. To be honest it's nothing that a
slightly harsher editor couldn't correct. I know myself that sometimes tough
love is what is needed. However when she judges it correctly the beauty of her
writing shines through and it can be jaw-droppingly good. The childbirth scene
had me wracked with tears and cursing her for making me cry.
I enjoyed the
fact that not every element is neatly tied up at the end of the book. Whilst
there is a satisfactory resolution to the main issues Jessie lets her readers
use their own imaginations for some of the minor story arcs, a space I found
welcome; although I appreciate that this may not work for everyone. It can be
quite a brave move if you deliberately don’t explain everything.
I was
reminded of the writer’s maxim: - "if you care about your characters your
readers will care about the story". I was entranced, and I certainly came
to care about the characters, whilst Jessie reeled me in to the story with
dexterity and with her meticulous plotting. It's a rare skill.
No comments:
Post a Comment