Thursday 21 November 2019

The Hundred And Ninety Nine Steps.

it was off course the cover of this novel which iniatially drew me to it, the darkly romantic view of  Whitby Abbey, the tilting tombstone and spindly wind blown grass graves. That combined with the interesting title and Michael Faber had me, well, I had his novel. It is more off a novella actually, a quick read with quite a bit going on in it, certainly more than the size of the book would suggest.
             Sian is a young archaeologist, haunted by a recurring dream where a tender lover turns savage murderer, where the man of her dreams, literally, subjects her to a brutal death, over and over again in her nightmares. Her every night's dream ending in twisted sheets, sweaty awakenings and even the occasional thud as she lands on her bedroom floor. Attempting to distract herself from herself, she takes part in a dig in the stunning locale of Whitby, a location I visisted myself quite recently. Well, between the covers of a book by Paul Magrs, a writer who's work deserves to be found on everyone's bookshelf, enriching anyone's collection (For creating the wonderful Iris Wildthyme and Panda if nothing else.) While in Whitby she meets Mack and Hadrian, one man and his dog. Hadrian is the dog, by the way. Much playful character development takes place, as well as an attempt by Sian to restore a message in a bottle Mack has inherited from an estranged parent. A story emerges, a heart breaking tale of infanticide, a monster revealed, by a voice long silenced, awaiting within the folds of the bottled message. Telling the tale has its own power, as Sian feels the weight of its decoding, as she speaks the terrible words long hidden.
             Whitby is such an interesting location and I wondered if Michael Faber visited it in order to convey its power so convincingly. It was Whitby where Count Dracula, in wolf form, first set foot and paw in England. Leaping from the doomed ship The Demeter, as it finished its terrible death filled voyage by crashing on the rocks. Whitby has apparently become something of a pilgrimage site for vampire lovers and worshippers of all things Gothic. The locals must be tripping over vampires. I also remember Whitby as the striking location for the pop video for Simply Reds Holding Back The Years. A song I have discovered has different meanings for those under twenty hearing it and those over fifty remembering it.
            The Hundred And Inety Steps  is a nice read with more than a couple of clever moments. Where better to center a story with red herrings than a harbour town. ...groan, sorry for that.
             The book requires no big commitment  but is a haunting read with a simple and bitter sweet subtext, a tragic tale within the tale that will reward anyone interested enough to give it a chance.
                               "Whitby Harbour, Moonlight" by yorkshire painter Turner Taylor.