2024 FEBRUARY READING LIST
One of my goals for reading has been to refrain from the endless scroll on my phone and when I get the urge to pick up my phone randomly, I try to pick up a book instead. Last year was breaking the habit and this year it has been more natural to pick up a book and forget about social media more often than not.
I continued with my historical fiction reads this month. One was a book I had read nearly a decade ago and the other was a continuation of a series in Medieval England. I ventured into a series of memoirs, but they also had a historical fiction slant. I both enjoyed and endured reading about poverty in London in the 1950s while also learning more about the struggles of medieval England and France.
Here are the books that I both read and had a hard time putting down in February:
TIME AND CHANCE BY SHARON KEY PENMAN
If in When Christ and His Saints Slept there was a battle between monarchs and the authority of the throne then Time and Chance is about the battle between England’s King and the Church in the person of Thomas Becket. First designated as chancellor and later made the Archbishop of Canterbury, begins the battle of wills of who decides the fate of the English, is it God or the King?
The ambition of Henry II has made him the most powerful monarch in the world and yet his home life is fraught with scandal, seduction, betrayal and continued reluctance by Becket. Henry rose to power with his beautiful and powerful wife, Eleanor of Aquitaine and a good friend as his chancellor, but by the end of the novel Henry may find himself alone.
I was excited to continue the story of Henry II and his beautiful new bride, Eleanor of Aquitaine and in the beginning, there was all the intrigue of the crown against crown as the French King and the King of the English challenged each other for dominance. The story then began to focus a lot on the relationship between King Henry and Thomas Becket who he had named as Archbishop of Canterbury, the most church figure in England.
This book read much slower than the first as it meandered its way through the fraying relationship between the Archbishop and King. Penman’s research is impeccable and I could see traces of what would lead to Henry VIII's final bullying effort to rip the church away from the authority of Rome and establish the church under the kingship. The unraveling of the relationship between Henry and Eleanor was also intriguing began to include their children several of whom are well known throughout history.
The slower pace did make for a less exciting read. As I read the accounts of the King and the Archbishop going toe-to-toe with each other over who was greater, the king or God, I felt conflicted. On one hand, I felt as though Penman could have shorted the entries about the arguments between Becket and Henry as the book is fairly long. And yet, the numerous accounts where Becket did not forfeit the church to the king entirely were needed to show the exasperation of the King and what was at stake. Henry II was not trying to manipulate the religious order to achieve the successful birth of a legitimate male heir like his descendant, but he was still attempting to bend the church to his will.
Time and Chance may have been a slower read, but the contents are helpful to understand better what happens in the books that follow. This would be a wonderful book to read during the winter months when one finds more time to read as the days are shorter and provide the dark glooming ambiance that is perfect for a medieval read about betrayal.
THE MIDWIFE: A MEMOIR OF BIRTH, JOY, AND HARD TIMES BY JENNIFER WORTH
A young Jennifer Worth, leaving a life of comfort and a man she cannot have because he is married, finds herself at a convent in the slums of post-war London’s East End. She meets an array of colorful people as a district nurse and in her capacity as a midwife, delivering babies all over the area. She spends her evenings with spirited, warm-hearted nuns and fellow valiant midwives. During her days she helps a woman who can’t speak English deliver her twenty-fifth baby, delivers babies of mixed race with varying reactions, and delves into the dark and prevalent world of prostitution as she attempts to help a young pregnant prostitute.
For all the dark and challenging themes around abortion, poverty, prostitution and abuse, The Midwife is beautiful and honestly written. Utterly moving and powerful, the stories from Worth’s experience in the East End will touch the hearts of mothers everywhere.
I was nervous to read this book after reading reviews about the difficult subject matter of abuse, prostitution, abortions, and the despair of the workhouses. I checked out this book and then was too scared to read it so I returned it. Then, for some reason, I picked it up again and thought I would skim through the first few pages and see what I thought. I was immediately drawn in. I am a big fan of the show and so many of the stories were not new to me. Even so, I could not help but be fascinated by reading Worths’s own words to describe the East End of London in the 1950’s.
The first several chapters provided introductions to the main people Worth interacted with between weekly clinic, her rounds as a midwife and as a district nurse while also bringing to life the conversations and relationships she made while at the House of St. Raymond Nonnatus (the author mentions the name is a pseudonym). The show kept fairly accurate to the book although there were some minor alterations to details, but what was so captivating about the stories was how hopeful Worth made things out to be. She gives a bleak history of the non-existence of midwifery in the centuries before and the groundbreaking work by the Sisters of Nonnatus. Although the stories of the poverty-stricken and those fatigued by two wars were grim, to say the least, there was an essence in the storytelling of promise and hope.
One story was extremely difficult to get through, one where she encounters a young woman, Mary, who is a prostitute, escapes the house where she ‘works’, finds help with a church order, but later has her newborn child taken from her. Reading about the “Cafes” where tawdry and erotic shows were put on night after night was both eye-opening and repulsive. One scene was absolutely terrible and almost impossible to read. And yet, somehow, it did not seem that shocking because the world is full of darkness. One of the most disheartening lines was how prostitutes were dragged into brothels at the ages of fourteen or fifteen, like Mary in the book. Today, that age is now ten.
Even with the bleakness of poverty in the middle of the 20th century, the rough life living by the docks and the desperation of women, Worth still conveys a story of hope and shares stories of the joy of motherhood in a profound and heartening way. I finished the book with joy rather than sorrow. Educated, but not cynical. The Midwife is a good book to read to grasp a better understanding of a world not that long ago, but for the most sensitive souls, this book may be too much.
SHADOWS OF THE WORKHOUSE BY JENNIFER WORTH
Shadows of the Workhouse follows Jennifer Worth’s first book Call the Midwife, where she shares about working near the docks of East London during the 1950’s and tells stories of the people she encounters along the way.
The first story is about Jane, an illegitimate daughter of an aristocrat sent to the dreaded workhouse. Then we meet Peggy and Frank a follow both their journeys in and out of the workhouse where they were separated for many years. Later comes the arrival of a reverend to Nonnatus house who seems to have some chemistry with Jane. Finally, the eccentric Sister Monica is accused of shoplifting which leads to heavy hearts and concern for nuns and midwives at Nonnatus.
These stories, and others, provide fascinating insight into the spirit and character of ordinary people who find ways to overcome their difficulties and desperations we can hardly imagine.
I found Shadows of the Workhouse to be extremely educational in the attempts at creating a welfare system before the present actual welfare system was put into place. Worth writes with such hope and optimism even when describing the harrowing tales of the workhouse. She describes them as the state’s first attempt at helping the poor and although they were a good idea in theory—employ and house the destitute, orphaned, and widowed—without regulation, accountability or minimal standards of decency, cleanliness and care, workhouses became a dreaded existence.
Worth is a wonderful, honest storyteller who can weave past and present stories together in her narrative in a most natural way. I liked that as I read what was happening with Jenny in the story she brought in history and past stories to help add context and provide a more well-rounded perspective. The final part that shared about the wars was interesting but also read a little dry. Once the story delved into the present state of Joe the old soldier then the pace of the book quickened and I could not put the book down.
There are difficult themes in this book around poverty, physical abuse and war. This book was less difficult to read than the first more so because Shadows of the Workhouse shared less about sexual abuse and even though the dreadful conditions of workhouses and the suffering people endured were hard to read, I could manage.
FAREWELL TO THE EAST END BY JENNIFER WORTH
Farewell to the East End is the final book of Jennifer Worth’s memoirs of her life as a midwife in London’s East End during the 1950s. There are heartbreaking stories of a family afflicted by the scourge of tuberculosis and a young woman, the captain’s daughter, who ‘serviced’ the entire crew and discovers she is in labor. There is also quite a lot of humor in the story of two women who share a husband, Chummy delivering triplets, and a backed-up chimney flue. Along with these stories, some tales venture into the world of backstreet abortions, infanticide and the changing landscape of the docks while continuing to share the warming stories of the inhabitants of Nonnatus House including a wedding.
In Farewell to the East End, I found the perfect balance of the two previous books by Worth. There are plenty of hardship and rough tales around the world of delivery babies and the wretched conditions of the poorest part of London. And yet, the book was hopefully even endearing in sharing the more humorous tales and reminding the reader that regardless of one’s situation, one must carry on. The story of Megan’Mave was fascinating and tracked harmoniously with the PBS version. Chummy comes to life a lot more on the pages as she solely delivers triplets, has to steer the proceedings around the delivering a baby on a boat and finds her match in a man on the police force.
The story of the backstreet abortionist was difficult to get through as well as the case of infanticide and the tales shared by the older nuns at Nonnatus House about what had witnessed in their time. Even so, every story was both beautiful and at times heartbreaking. Worth does a wonderful job of not making light of difficult topics or sweeps by them. She shares accounts with realness and honesty but always with a ray of hope. Whether a story is joyous or wretched Worth writes in a way to make each person’s story valuable and worth knowing.
Not once did Farewell to the East End lag nor did any section become tedious or overly traumatizing. I read through this final memoir quickly and even though the content was difficult I found myself saddened that Worth’s tale of a bygone era was over. Even though societies, in many ways, are better than 75 years ago, there is still such much to learn and so much improvement to be had. Here in the US, we may not have had The Blitz or the workhouses but we have our worn torn neighborhoods and the mangled ruins of our own attempts to assist the enslaved or the destitute. Worth’s memories have provided me with a better understanding of the harrowing history of pockets of humanity while also providing hope and optimism, never painting anyone in a bad light and encouraging us all to do our part to be both decent human beings and contributors toward a better society.
ALL THE LIGHT WE CANNOT SEE BY ANTHONY DOERR
Marie-Laure lives in Paris near the Museum of Natural History, where her father works. When she is twelve, the Nazis occupy Paris and father and daughter flee to the walled citadel of Saint-Malo, where Marie-Laure’s reclusive great uncle lives in a tall house by the sea. With them they carry what might be the museum’s most valuable and dangerous jewel.
In a mining town in Germany, Werner Pfennig, an orphan, grows up with his younger sister, enchanted by a crude radio they find that brings them news and stories from places they have never seen or imagined. Werner becomes an expert at building and fixing these crucial new instruments and is enlisted to use his talent to track down the resistance. Deftly interweaving the lives of Marie-Laure and Werner, Doerr illuminates the ways, against all odds, people try to be good to one another.
This is a stunningly beautiful story about a blind French girl and a German boy whose paths collide in occupied France as both try to survive the devastation of World War II.
-Goodreads
I read All the Light We Cannot See nearly a decade ago when it was first published and I had greatly enjoyed the weaving together of the two stories of Werner and Maria-Laure. It was magical when I read it the first time and with the newly arrived series adaptation, I thought I would read the book again.
The second reading did not disappoint. Again I was transported back in time and to a place world away from my own. I read about the care and concern the paternal figures have for Marie-Laure and her own bravery in taking part in the resistance. I was also reminded of the poverty-stricken path of Werner and his brutal time at the National Political Institute of Education at Schulpforta before being sent to Saint-Malo where his world collides with Maria-Laure.
The back and forth of the two narratives as well as the change in dates can be a bit jolting if one is not used to it, but I liked the way Doeer steers the story, starting with the penultimate days of German occupation, while slowly and steadily filling in context and ambiance throughout the book. The magic of this story is Doerr’s ability to focus not on one side as good and one side as bad, instead, he writes in a way that makes me root for both Werner and Marie-Laure. Two young people on opposite ends of the war but in reality are more connected and relatable than the world would make them think.
There is so much symbolism and dire warnings as to the toxicity of greed and ruthless power in this book. The cruel and vicious measures of a hypocritical state that manipulated and indoctrinated the poor and desperate to force on them the attitudes of a heinous regime. The playing out of each character’s life was also well done in not allowing the stories to culminate in a happy story that would have rendered the book less believable. Instead, the losses and those who survived, each with their victories and defeats, added depth and profoundness to the story therefore rendering it more believable even if the story is fictitious.
Concerning the series on Netflix, I have found myself in the camp of the purists, those who would have liked to have seen the story shown as it was told in the book. For one enormously important reason, for a country that should be reminded that every country has done terrible things and we should remember them as terrible and own up to our failure, the US is one of them. The idea that the series what the story to end in a more hopeful place conflicts so much with the story I read. War scars the winners and the losers in different ways but no one leaves unscathed. We need to be okay with stories not having happy hopeful endings because many people in this world live such lives.
Second, I also might find myself in the minority, but I preferred that there was not a courtship or real love interest between Maria-Laure and Werner. Something about the happening of two strangers, who find themselves on opposite sides of a war being presented to each other and just finding the humanity in the personification of one’s opponent. This spoke considerably to the futility of war and in the end, it is one group of people attacking another group of people—shedding blood that all run red. I also think it is an easy path for writers, for film or literature, to always return to the relationship tropes. The fact that they do not become lovers, but are internally affected by each other’s existence speaks to the power of relationships beyond the romantic and distinguishes the story even more.
I will end with the statement that I believe the book far and away exceeds the film adaption both in depth and pace. I love films and I am not opposed to some creative license, but to lose the effectiveness of the story and not replace it with something more meaningful is a loss of an opportunity while also causing disappointment for the avid reader.
