Customer Reviews

Mistress of the Art of Death

5 star:		(81)
4 star:		(37)
3 star:		(26)
2 star:		(12)
1 star:		(10)

 

 

I have a thorough dislike of sloppy anachronisms. In fact, I have been known to fume for chapters and write scathing things about sloppy research when I encounter anachronisms. I knew going into reading this book that there were a few howlers. Cholera in 12th century England anyone? A room lined with books in the age of Henry II? A body farm in Salerno? I have to admit that the Author's note at the end helped reconcile me a bit when I started thinking about some of the things in the book that are improbable to say the least.

However, I have to say that this story grabbed me by the arm and dragged me in and would not let me go until the last page. And the author really did use Henry II as an effective character and an important object lesson. Who does remember a Henry aside from his domestic imbolgios and his fight with Thomas a Becket? Eleanor of Aquitaine had much better press.

And whether or not the romance was an afterthought to please an editor as suggested by another reviewer-- I think it was intrinsic given the role it plays in the development of various stings of the plot-- there is much about it to make genre romance fans weep and gnash their teeth.

For the interesting characters, for the different view of the 12th century, for lots of good reasons, pick this book up.

A little investigation turns up that this is a pseudonym for Diana Norman. I'm going to pick up a few of her other historical novels under that name.

In Medieval Europe, a woman educated in the Art of Death in the famous school of medicine in Salerno, is sent to investigate a murder mystery. Accompanied by the renown mediator Simon of Naples and her eunuch manservant, Mansur, Adelia -- the Mistress of the Art of Death -- ventures into Cambridge to find the murderer. By chance, she arrives to find the Prior of the town ill -- unable to piss. Though she knows how to treat his infection, being a woman, she must perform the operation in secret to avoid charges of witchcraft. Thus, despite her formidable knowledge in forensic pathology, to the people of Cambridge, she must pose as an assistant to her manservant, who must pretend to be the doctor in charge. Saving the Prior, she gains a friend of power in town, who helps them in their mission.

Ariana Franklin's delightful humor is present throughout the piece -- even in the story's most dire moment, when Adelia is bound and trapped within breathing range of Death itself. Her characters have complex backgrounds that shed light on their present relations and actions -- the Prior's relationship with the housekeeper he hires for Adelia, and King Henry II has his own personal motivation for summoning these foreign specialists. Interestingly, the backstory comes neatly into play in the end: swoopingly, when King Henry arrives to see to matters himself, and subtly, when Adelia's housekeeper secretly passes on her relationship and the prior to Adelia and her love.

Franklin develops a tumultuous romance between Adelia and the famous Sir Rowley Picot -- both characters of importance, and equally stubborn in nature. Marriage, in those times as now, required an act of submission, which would not suit Adelia's personage. Yet -- after those involved in the murders have been dealt with and the truth made known to the public -- Franklin does take care to let Adelia live happilly ever after with her man, but with her own solution...

In 12th Century Cambridge, children are dissapearing and turning up dead...with horribly mutilated bodies. Immediately the zealous Christians suspect the jews and a they attack the local jewery. For their own safety the Jews are kept in the castle away from danger. But they can't work and no income for them means no income for the King. So King Henry sends for the medieval equivalent of today's coroner from a top medical school in Salerno italy, a Master of the Art of Death.

Instead, he gets Adelia, a Mistress of the Art of Death, who is accompanied by Simon, the Jewish investigatory, and Mansur, a large Muslim eunuch who is Adelia's bodyguard. In the hysterical and superstitious climate of Cambridge, and in order to avoid a charge of witchcraft, Mansur poses as the doctor and Adelia his assisant. All three begin the difficult task of examining the childrens bodies, gathering the clues, and searching for the killer.

This book is sort of a cross between CSI and Silence of the lambs. The actual mystery is interesting and kept my attention but I kept getting pulled out of the book by dialogue or some historical fact that just didn't seem right. The characters, esp. Adelia, all have very modern attitudes and just weren't believable. Additionally the story went on way too long after the killer is revealed.

I liked the author's writing style though and it was infused with a lot of dry humor which I enjoyed. So ultimately although I did have issues with certain aspects of the book, they weren't so bad that I regret reading it. If you can over look the modern attitudes and anachronisms and just read it for the story itself I think you'll really like it.

One of my very favorite TV shows was canceled last year, a show called "Crossing Jordan" in which coroners did everything from finding bodies to interrogating suspects to solving cases, all with technology that no public office could ever afford. It had a little element of the unreal to it but it was a new spin on crime shows. Let the body lead you to the killer.

I'd like to think in part that this book was inspired by that show, or at least the author is a fan. In Cambridge a child is missing, then found dead in the river, apparently crucified. The Jews of the city are blamed and two killed with the rest of the Hebrew population running into the castle in fear of reprisals. King Henry II is not happy about the lack of income he is receiving because the Jews can't work so he send to his friend the King of Sicily and requests a master in the art of death, someone who can tell him what really happened to the poor little boy.

Instead a "Mistress of the art of death", Adelia, is sent, along with a large Arab to protect her and Simon of Naples, a Jew who will investigate. Together this unlikely group ponders who is killing children-up to four dead when they finally arrive in Cambridge-and how to catch him. The bodies lead them to a hill where the devil is rumored to dance and to a killer who was once in a holier occupation and soon no one is who they seem. Help is offered by a man who claims to have a personal stake in taking down this killer of children-but he could be the very man they are looking for. And to track a killer this perverted is to put your own life in mortal danger...

This is a fantastic book. The mystery if not only really complex but it's explored in a totally different way-the bodies lead us to the clues and the clues to the killer. It's also incredibly spooky because of the subject matter and the ending-I was alone in the house reading much of this and I kept thinking "there's someone upstairs!" and you will too, it's just that kind of book. The characters are all wonderfully portrayed and the setting is a perfect mix between a rural town where everything is friendly and the hunting ground of a serial killer where one wrong turn leads you into his lair.

Yes, some stuff is out of place, certain things are inserted that don't really belong in the 12th century and Adelia has ideas about medicine that are so far beyond her time they're a little laughable. But this is a novel of suspense, of horror, far more than it is a novel of history. So get over it.

I really enjoyed this book and I recommend it to anyone who likes mysteries, medicine or law and order. Beware though-this is a graphic story and the descriptions of what was done to the dead children, parts of Adelia's training and the final confrontation with the killer are not something that should be read by children or people who can't take graphic violence.

Five stars. I can't wait for the next book in the series which is due out the end of January.

This is a wicked book - in no time at all you'll find yourself looking up to see the clock at 3:00am. And, as I later realized, that won't even get you half way through the book when the really fast-paced action and suspense grows.

The writing is well done and perfect after a long day...though admittedly, the use of some of the more modern english ("ain't", etc.) throws one off first, it does serve to help flesh out characters who are educated versus those who aren't.

And yes, if you are a fan of CSI, you'll love this book. If you like mysteries, you'll enjoy it. And if you crave a good historical fiction, this is just the thing. And, if you're like me, and have all three of those characteristics together, then don't waste time reading any more reviews -- get this book.

Note to the author, Ms. Franklin: I do so hope we get a sequel. Very much enjoyed the protagonist and the world in which she lives.

J. Avellanet, Co-Founder of Cerulean Associates LLC

In 1171, Cambridge is beset by a series of brutal child murders, so inflaming the citizens that they turn on the local Jews as scapegoats, reinforcing the common belief that these baby killers routinely sacrifice Christian children to their God. Such medieval prejudices are common, the uneducated villagers quick to gather into a hysterical mob screaming for the blood of the guilty with no proof other than the hearsay of so-called witnesses, whose stories are further embellished in the telling. Literally tearing one Jewish couple apart, the angry mob pursues the Jews into Cambridge Castle, where they are held under the protection of Henry II. Not a little disgruntled, Henry bemoans the loss of income from his incarcerated Jews; seeking to remedy the situation as soon as possible, Henry sends to Sicily for a practitioner of "the art of death", the medieval answer to modern day forensic science. Not long after, a creaking cart joins a group of travelers, among them returning Crusaders, the local prioress and the king's tax collector: "One of them, exuberant as the rest, is a child killer."

Hoping to merge with the common folk, but noted for their strange appearance, the cart is occupied by Adelia, a physician trained in Salerno, Simon the Jew, the organizer and putative leader and Mansur, a huge Saracen castrato. Although the woman is truly "the mistress of death", she allows the villagers their natural assumption that Mansur is the doctor, confronted with an anti-female prejudice that is so pervasive as to relegate her to a supporting role. Through artifice, Adelia manages to examine the body of the first murdered child, now encased in a jewel-encrusted reliquary, the centerpiece of St. Radegund's convent, coins exchanged for viewing "the little saint". But with the discovery of three more dead and horribly mutilated children's corpses, the locals are in a frenzy to attack the Jews in the castle. It is against such rising hysteria that Adelia must gather information to expose a killer who has strewn small bodies behind him, seemingly impervious to discovery.

Adelia performs her task admirably, given the limitations of her womanhood, sifting through the many suspicious candidates, from knights to monks to a local religious fanatic, even Sir Rowley Picot, who seems to be everywhere she is, privy to the evidence thanks to Simon. Surrounded by superstition and ignorance, the physician's job is formidable and dangerous, even for those around her, like Ulf, the sly grandson of their servant, and Safeguard, a rank canine who follows her everywhere. Adelia and Ulf conspire: it is the river that draws the children, the river and someone they trust implicitly. But who is so cunning as to avoid recognition? Combing the countryside, Adelia and Ulf stumble over the truth, their lives in peril, the young woman unable to control her curiosity in spite of a stalking menace. Richly atmospheric, the author creates a believable city mired in ignorance and fear, the brutality of life and the excesses of religion everyday fare. This cast of villains, nuns, monks, charlatans and noble souls reflect both limited knowledge and a thirst for scientific evidence, quietly observed by a king who ultimately delivers justice, but will be excoriated by history for the infamous murder of Thomas a Becket. Luan Gaines/2007.

About a quarter of a way into this intriguing novel of a 12th century female physician, as the writing flaws begin to accumulate, I was telling myself that this is only a historical mystery, not a literary endeavor, so I should just look past the frustrations and enjoy the story. But then about halfway through the book the mystery begins to take a back seat to romance and philosophizing, and the frustrations began to overwhelm the pleasures. I was willing to look past many of the historical anachronisms (being no expert myself), but the attitudes of the main character, basically twenty-first century post-feminist multiculturalism transplanted into 12th century England, made her feel like a character from an old Star Trek episode who lands back in time. Franklin's admiration of doctors was also odd: since when did physicians become some kind of moral exemplars? So as much as we root for Adelia, the physician, and as much as we might cheer on women's rights or oppose capital punishment, none of these positions is developed in a way that is consistent or believable within the broader purpose of achieving a compelling historical narrative.

Even more frustrating for me was the lack of technical sophistication in the writing: many sentences made no sense, pronouns often did not refer to their antecedents, and instead of character development the author uses a clunky and highly artificial italicized interior monologue to convey a character's thoughts (part of the reason so much of the romance and philosophizing rings hollow.) Most egregious for me, however, was the manipulation of point of view. At several key moments in the book, the author has the main character, Adelia, see or say a key point of the story, but Franklin does not convey that information to the reader in order to keep him or her reading. It's an author's responsibility to be consistent with point of view, and this violation of the implicit contract with the reader showed a lack of attention to writing that the story did not deserve.

As to the story itself? I finished the book, which speaks to its merits, but most readers will not be surprised by the solution to the crimes. It turns out, unfortunately, that whatever doubts the reader might have had about the suspect do not come from misleading, beguiling clues but just from extremely odd (in fact, psychotic) behaviors. It was also disappointing to realize by book's end that the solution to the mystery was hardly affected by the main character at all. She deduced a few important facts, but most of the solution came about from other characters and happenstance, so her own role as heroine was diminished once again.

Despite this long list of complaints, I did finish the book, which means it was compelling enough to keep me reading. The author does an especially great job with the character of the king (Henry II); in fact, it's so good that you have to wonder why she didn't attach an equal attention to the other characters, including Adelia. I also admired how she combined the influences of the domestic, daily world with the greater intrigue of international politics and commerce. The crusades, eel sellers, monks, the plight of the Jews, Saracen eunuchs and a host of other colorful characters and situations bring the Cambridge and broader medieval world depicted here to life. I would pass the book on to others and hope they can enjoy its best parts. But I have to wonder where the editors were. Franklin thanks at least three of them at the end. Didn't someone who works for them, and maybe themselves, take a moment to try to edit the book? To work on character development, verisimiltude, writing style, point of view? Readers who are willing to forgive a writer for her imperfections (and, after all, how many of us can write a good historical novel?) should enjoy this book, but how much better it would have been to have had the book's many attributes delivered in a style, technique and voice that matched their quality.

Doesn't anyone know history any more? Spanish Jews with sidelocks speaking Yiddish (not Arabic)? Um, the Hasidim lived in Poland, and I don't think they were styling their hair that way or even a religious movement quite as early as the 1100s...

A sign posted on the convent door listing the local motels? Who could read besides the occasional priest? And not *all* priests could read, either, or knew more Latin than what was in the Eucharistic ceremony (many of them just garbled the liturgy). Thatcher's children actually attending school?

Every anachronism made me flinch, and I have twitched a lot while reading this book. I usually give up on such books after a couple of chapters (like "Da Vinci Code" --awful book), but the CSI aspects are keeping me going. I'm at page 145, but I might give up yet.

For a writer who is supposed to be so experienced (and published), she could have taken more care to be more accurate.

I thought the idea of this book had real promise but I feel very disappointed by it, not to say downright cheated.

Okay, the basic premise of the medical faculty at Salerno studying forensic science is a bit far-fetched, and the idea that even the most naïve professor would despatch a female representative to England even more so. But I was prepared to suspend my disbelief for the interest of seeing how a 12th-century medical scientist might have operated, dealt with an epidemic, solved a forensic conundrum, and all the rest of it. But that's precisely what Ariana Franklin doesn't give us; all her heroine's principles, attitudes and medical knowledge are utterly 20th-century. Her theories "do not accord with that of Galen or any other medical influences in vogue" - no, she knows modern medicine! She takes for granted that astrology as applied to medicine is sheer quackery. She believes in eating salad for health, and she has worked out that boiling water makes it safe to drink, a mere seven centuries before the next person (Louis Pasteur) was going to. And her attitudes to woman's role in society are just utterly implausible. Really she might as well be a time-traveller from the 21st century, and for me that takes all the potential interest out of her and anything she does.

There are clangers dropped in the setting, too. I've read a couple of Diana Norman's previous historical novels and enjoyed them, so it surprised me that, for example, she hasn't thought her way enough into a mostly-non-literate period to realise that a pilgrimage destination would not inform visitors of available accommodation by tacking a written list of inns to the gate, and that two maidservants with the same baptismal name could not be differentiated by calling them Matilda B and Matilda W (even if there had been a such a thing as the letter W in 12th-century England, which there wasn't!)

There are a few good things in it - the characterisation of Henry II is excellent and funny. But overall it's so radically less good than the novels Diana Norman has published over her own name, I seriously wonder if she is cynically punting out potboilers, and using a nom de plume for this series to distance them from the stuff she's proud of?

As is the norm with so much recent historical fiction, the main character, while physically in the 13th century, is mentally in the 20th. The idea that a young woman in the middle ages could be a licensed doctor, an outspoken atheist, and a critic of every contemporary social convention is just too unbelievable. The problem is that a realistic character in the middle ages would be devoutly religious, bigoted, and accepting of slavery, arranged marriage, sexual harassment and even rape. Unfortunately, too many authors feel that such a main character would be unsympathetic, and so imbue them with completely anachronistic modern liberal attitude that makes the tale read more as a time travel adventure than historical fiction. The story is well enough written, though nothing special, but features a heroine so contrary to anything resembling a realistic medieval character that the all important suspension of disbelief is not achieved for even a moment.