Customer Reviews

Mortal Love: A Novel

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4 star:		(7)
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1 star:		(1)

 

 

MORTAL LOVE is an adult fairy tale or myth. It probably helps to have some knowledge of The Maginogi and other Celtic tales, as well as the poems of Yeats and the writing of Robert Graves. Understanding who Tristan and Isolde were and the Pre-Raphaelites won't hurt. Else, how can one put this convoluted tale in perspective?

For example, just try to identify the protagonist. Is it Daniel, the reporter on Sabbatical in modern day London? Or Val, the sedated grandson of the artist Comstock (who is yet another candidate) who knew Swinburne? Perhaps these men are all incarnations of someone else? And what about the girl Larkin. Who is she? Drifter, bewitched, cursed, or a shape shifter?

I bought this book and read it because a critic writing for The Washington Post Book World described it as `sublime'. I suppose that terminology fits, but it occurs to me that unless you are fairly well read in literature, and perhaps an English major, you may not get some aspects of this mysterious tale.

I'm not sure I got it, but over and over throughout the book I experienced "recognition' or "deja vu" regarding various people, scenes, and items of interest to the protagonist of the moment (at least three deconstructed and overlapping tales are told) such as green absinthe, apple blossom flowers and owl feathers. One of the characteristics of myths is their episodic nature. They seldom make sense to the rational mind. They appeal to the artistic side of the brain.

Do you know who Blodeuedd was? Her name means flowers in the old Welsh. She was the wife Math and Gwydion of conjured out of flowers for Llew Llau Gyffes. She did not choose her husband and when she fell in love with another, she was punished by being turned into an owl. The Pre-Raphaelites were interested in art created before Raphael rediscovered perspective i.e., art without perspective whose content reflected mythical tales and the hidden (occult) world visible only to those with eyes to see. They were also interested in Theosophy.

LIke the mythmakers of old,Elizabeth Hand employs skillful use of language (incredible metaphors), characterization, irony, and other narrative devices. As a result, she has written a fine and scholarly bit of literature. If you are interested in 19th century art, Jungian archetypes, and the masks of the Gods (and Goddesses) you will probably enjoy it.

I won't waste your time on a recap of Mortal Love's plotline. Take it from me, Elizabeth Hand writes a good multi-layered olfactory-pleasing book; her descriptions of fragrance and the stirring way they affect the senses lingers in memory with the redolence of the Spice Market in Istanbul. Her prose regarding the other senses singes the reader with a sting like the after image of a neon sign on the retina or the swipe of the finest velvet on naked skin. As the implementers and manipulators of these sensations, all Hand's major characters are extremely and painfully human (except, of course, the supernatural entities that are never quite defined) with weaknesses that we can all relate to and cheer on as they support and move the more sinister and intriguing aspects of the plot along rather nicely. In a nutshell, (or should I say acorn?) Hand's musicality implodes the brain with phrase after phrase of imagery that colors emotions and thoughts with a rainbow palette of intensity I can only imagine is like an LSD trip.

On this level, the novel surely succeeds--the reader, never bored, flips from one point of view (there are three masculine protagonists) to another, from one century to another with great fascination, wanting to know, to discover and finally to understand. In the same way that the object of the men's affections, called many names throughout the different time periods, entices the men who seek her out, wanting to capture her on canvas, in print and of course, between the sheets, we are also enticed to the point where we want to pinpoint her genus and specie. We realize from the start that the woman is not human, and we are given hints as to what exactly she is and what exactly her motivation might be, but mysteriously this is never fully resolved. A little investigative work is necessary to at least grasp the essence of the associated myth and even this does not tie up all the loose threads that run through this novel like the frazzled end of a bolt of cut fabric, albeit a lovely rich brocade. Ms. Hand was kind enough to explain to me that Larkin embodies many mythical creatures emanating from a fairy world with little contact with the more fragile human existence.

There is so much that is not explained and this adds to the slightly fogged out feeling that we share with the male protagonists as they interact with this supernatural situation. I speak of allusions to the scissors of Dr. Learmont, the green light, the fantasy world glimpsed by all the artists and sought after---metaphors for the creative process? I am uncertain. From Larkin's obsessive objective, who was Val and how were we to make the connection? The character of Juda---sometimes a woman, sometimes a man, sometimes as fluid as water---acts as a sentinel of sorts; Ms. Hand likens her to Puck, mischievous yet responsible for Larkin's escape from the other world. Nevertheless, as fun as this novel is, I would have totally enjoyed more of an explanation, or at least another chapter that would have gained me more insight and more of Hand's deliciously edgy phrasing.

As far as the storyline, however, none of this really matters. As she does in Waking the Moon and the Glimmering, Hand compels us to enter this strange world where we are left a little mystified yet are better for the journey.

I thoroughly enjoyed the otherworldly quality of this read and recommend it to anyone who likes a glimpse at the creative process. The interplay between real historical characters and those crafted by Hand works well as do the backdrop of the insane asylum and the labyrinthine back alleys of London. Hand does a fine job of capturing the despair and frustration of each of the men as they lose what they think they desire most.

As my knowledge of Welsh myths is slim, I would have appreciated some of Hand's insight in an afterward, maybe an explanation of the myth of Blodeuedd or the connection to the Dog that Jumps Down. Fans of 'Waking the Moon', will surely enjoy this novel especially with its cameo of Balthazar Warnick, but, they like myself and the male protagonists will find themselves craving more to make the entire sensory experience click with that satisfactory flash of ultimate understanding.

Elizabeth Hand, who famously dealt with the Mother Goddess myth in *Waking the Moon* and the cult of Dionysus in *Black Light*, here tackles the subject of the fatal muse: the White Goddess, the lhiannan-sidhe, the Belle Dame Sans Merci. *Mortal Love* drifts back and forth between several periods of history, between men throughout the years who have fallen under her seductive spell. Along the way there are Hand's usual lush fruit-metaphors and insect-metaphors and jewel-metaphors, and as always her prose is an intoxicating fever-dream of a read.

Writing-wise, I think it was probably better than *Waking the Moon*, but I have to admit I liked *Moon* better. *Moon* had sympathetic, every(wo)man sorts of characters who felt like old friends at first sight. *Mortal Love* has several characters who could be interesting, but she doesn't spend enough time with any of them to truly show us what makes them tick, and none of them feel as tangible as, say, Sweeney Cassidy. Still a good book, though, and a wonderful job of using faery material without making it cute or childish in the least, retaining the deadly mystery of the old tales.

I didn't enjoy Elizabeth Hand's Mortal Love as much as I enjoyed her earlier novel, Waking the Moon, but it was still worth reading.

The narrative skips around a bit from character to character, which gets a little confusing, but the story is compelling and the characters themselves are interesting.

I kept feeling that I was missing some vital information that would help me make sense of the book, and after reading some Amazon reviews, I think that is indeed the case. Di's review sums it up:

"It probably helps to have some knowledge of The Maginogi and other Celtic tales, as well as the poems of Yeats and the writing of Robert Graves. Understanding who Tristan and Isolde were and the Pre-Raphaelites won't hurt. Else, how can one put this convoluted tale in perspective?"

Yeah, I don't really have that much of a classic lit education yet, so I was lost in more than a few spots. And I had no idea that some characters, like Swinburne, were actual historical figures. But I could sense that I was missing stuff, at least, instead of the story just being written badly.

I would really like to go back to this one in about ten years, after I've learned more about the subjects it touches on.

I'm not going to beat around the bush. I absolutely devoured Mortal Love. Elizabeth Hand has long been my favorite author, and even when I read work from her that I didn't care for, I could never deny that it was exquisitely written. This novel was no exception.

I'll have to say that at first, it was a little confusing, because each chapter introduced a new protagonist. Technically, there are three, as the synopsis mentioned-- Radborne Comstock, an American in England who will one day be a famous painter (early 1900's); Daniel Rowlands, an American journalist in London (present-day), and Val Comstock, Radborne's grandson, an artist (present-day).

To be fair, it takes a few chapters for the ball to get rolling-- you initially have so many characters thrown at you that it takes supreme concentration to keep them all sorted out-- in addition to the three protagonists, there is a whole host of important supporting characters of which to keep track. Though, to Hand's credit, each of these minor characters is distinct and whole unto himself or herself-- there is not a two-dimensional personality in sight. At any rate, I spent a certain portion of the novel's outset wondering just how and when these storylines would ever come together.

As the novel gained momentum and we learn that Larkin Meade may be one and the same with the Pre-Raphaelite muse, Evienne Upstone, I found that everything is indeed linked. Here, Hand displays her finest gift-- her ability to steep our mundane world in an ethereal magic. While there are elements of the fantastic present always, Mortal Love always straddles the line between fantasy and reality. Never are we told for certain what Larkin actually is, but we get hints-- faerie tales and King Orfeo, the myth of Bloduedd, muse to rock god and painter alike. La Belle Dame Sans Merci. She is a blending of all of these things, improbable, but all the more startlingly beautiful in her inability to be compartmentalized, defined, constrained.

Stealing scenes are characters like Juda Trent, a mysterious androgyne who seems to know much more about Larkin than any mortal should know. In that role, I could picture none other than Tilda Swinton-- they have the same feral beauty, the same devastating intelligence. Balthazar Warnick from Hand's earlier novels, Waking the Moon and Black Light has a brief cameo, and Charlotte "Lit" Moylan gets a brief mention.

The only problem I had with the novel overall was the pacing. The reader experiences all three timelines simultaneously, and this is a disservice to Radborne's tale. Atmospheric and lovely though it may be, the reader knows more than Radborne regarding his mystery woman's identity, and it's as though we're waiting for him to play catch-up. Though his section does introduce strong artistic themes, it does plod a bit in comparison to the other threads. The other pacing issue is that everything wraps up very quickly after the slow work of juggling several storylines. Perhaps due to this sudden conclusion, the novel doesn't quite end seamlessly-- I certainly have lingering questions here and there. but satisfyingly enough. How did Juda come to this world? Why has s/he appointed herself/himself Larkin's watcher? At what point does Radborne go mad, and what was the phantom troupe that passed him on the moor? Are both Learmonts the same person, as well? What exactly is Val's true parentage? How are we to completely buy Val's essential role in the ending given our limited knowledge of him?

However, for the most part, I was satisfied, if a little dazzled by the richness of the writing. The themes are common ones-- the relationship of the artist to art, the relationship of artist to muse, the feverish obsession of unadorned desire, the wish to leave a lasting print behind when we leave this world. However common, they are exquisitely rendered here. I felt as though I were slowly plucking the petals off a cherry blossom as the pages turned, and the imagery was so lush that it was as though I was experiencing the novel with all five of my senses. The period sections were amazingly detailed-- perfectly capturing the allure and decay of the Decadents. There was raw, rich sensuality spilled on every page. This is the hallmark of great writing.

If you're reading these words, the chances are excellent that you've read the author's unforgettable "Waking the Moon," and perhaps "Black Light" as well. So, let's get the comparisons out of the way first. No, this isn't another "Waking the Moon" (although Balthazar Warnick turns up in a cameo), but it's brilliant in its own way. Impeccably written, it spans two eras and is told from three different pov's. It's populated with semi-eminent Victorians, both real and imaginary, human and nonhuman, mortal and immortal, as well as a cast of contemporary characters. Most are mad to some extent. Some even realize that they are.

Ms. Hand, master of the lush descriptive passage, is brilliant at creating a sense of place, especially with her descriptions of 19th-century Cornwall and 21st-century London. Maybe you'll feel as if you've dropped in for a visit. She also has a way of making the bizarre seem at least semi-normal (a border collie that apparently would place in a NASCAR race), and she's playfully suspenseful (going Hitchcock one better, she serves up a McGuffin but in the end simply tosses it away). The book's tightly plotted and the obsessed characters seem real, for who among us has not fallen victim to obsessive love at one time or another?

A warning for those few of you who may have stumbled upon this without knowing a thing about "Waking the Moon": Ms. Hand apparently expects her readers to bring something to the table with them. In this case that would be a knowledge of Art History, Victorian life and literature, the pre-Raphaelites, Celtic (and other) mythology, and Jungian pyschology. And a knowledge of British Geography wouldn't hurt either.

I've only one question: does Daniel go home in the car or the motorcycle?

I just wasted a ridiculous number of days slogging through this disappointingly pretentious work. In it, Daniel Rowlands, an American reporter, is working on a book about the concept of romance as developed in the Arthurian legends and in the artwork of the pre-Raphaelites. He becomes involved with some mysterious femme fatale in London who may or may not have also been involved with the actual pre-Raphaelites during their heyday over 100 years ago. Is she a ghost? Is she a goddess? Is she mad?

You would think it would be hard to miss with a plot like that, and indeed according to the back cover blurb, scary story master Peter Straub himself says "it is the product of an exceptionally gifted writer using her mind and heart to blast through every limitation or restriction. . . writing as if to create her own life." Or again there is this from The Washington Post: "What lies behind the complex, even violent process that we call artistic inspiration? That is the final mystery evoked in Elizabeth Hand's ambitious and richly imagined novel. By tracing the turbulence and reverberations of that process back to its source, Mortal Love offers its readers the satisfactions of a detective thriller. Here, however, the mystery goes deeper than murder. Nothing, Hand convinces us, is quite as mysterious as art."

No, nothing is as mysterious as art. Except perhaps why (knowing that the "heroine" is either a dangerous immortal being whose mere touch can destroy a man's mind; or else merely dangerously insane) -- why, knowing this, does Daniel's best friend make a big effort to get Daniel and this possible madwoman together in the first place on page 42 and then literally from page 57 onward keep warning Daniel to have nothing to do with her? Now that's a real mystery. And why I should care about Daniel, his best friend or the mad woman. That is another mystery, even greater than the last.

The book has lots of stylish writing with vivid lovely descriptive passages; it has lots of clever "literary" devices, like using three different narrators at three different points in time, some of whom may be unreliable. It even has what is apparently becoming obligatory in so-called "literary" novels, the precious touch of self-reference (the main character is in London to write a book called "Mortal Love"). It has quotes in Old English and French and Latin; it has numerous references to obscure artists and writers who actually lived; it has BIG THEMES about the nature of love, art, sex and death. But you know, it has not one single character whose fate I actually cared about at all at any point in the story.

This was one of many well-reviewed literary novels I've read lately that has lots of cleverness and no real heart. Frankly, if this is the best the "literary" world has to offer lately, I would rather read a romance novel or a children's book that features some realistic people whose fate actually matters to me.

This is a brilliantly written but dark fairy tale. The main characters inner lives are very richly developed through vibrant descriptions of their experiences and the things they say about themselves. Hand's descriptions of the characters' sensory experiences, especially sight and smell, provide the reader with a strong sense of what their lives must have been like. Her descriptions of 19th century London are so detailed and vivid that I felt as if I was there. The story is a hard to bear because it concerns madness and physical mutilation (described in great detail) but ultimately rewards the reader with a vision of the agony and ecstasy some artists must endure. The tale is complex involving intertwined strands from three main characters living in two centuries, as well as several lesser characters. Although the main threads are satisfactorily resolved at the conclusion, many elements of the story remain mysterious, e.g. is Learmont a human or fairy and why does he always carry scissors? If you like John Crowley's Little Big, you may like this book.

This woman is a genius writer, IMHO! Of course, in the case of this novel, I know I'm biased, because she wrote it just for me. Well,at least it feels that way... what she's done so brilliantly is weave in the myth of the Muse, the creative genius that can drive men mad, or, wait, is that woman the Faery Queen? Both, neither? Woven in are the spooky tropes of a gothic thriller,and many of the stars of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood, my college Art History heroes. She re-creates the laudenum laden late Vitorian era in such a bold and flawless way she literally transported me there. Beautiful bold writing and a show stopping cameo by non other than Esperanza Wilde herself make this book, to me, amazing.

"Mortal Love" is a lot better and more mature work than Elizabeth Hand's bestseller "Waking the Moon" (which is also a good, interesting book). It is a multilayered story about artist, madness, the Muse, and love, about another world and the unbearable longing, about an irresistible desire, and the supernatural feminine power over men.

In "Mortal Love" the author skillfully interweaves three narratives: two contemporary and one going back to the late Victorian period, the times of the Pre-Raphaelites. The first chapter, taking place in the nineteenth century, is crucial to the understanding of the whole novel. It contains clues and hints, which might be obscure at first, but later become obvious (it is good to come back to this chapter while reading further). It introduces Dr. Thomas Learmont, who does not age and bears mysterious scars on his body. Dr. Learmont receives a letter from his friend, Dr. Hoffman, a psychiatrist from Germany, who writes about a certain woman calling herself "Isolde".

The main character in the Victorian part is a young American painter, Radborne Comstock, who comes to London pursuing his artistic visions and visits Dr. Learmont in his remote insane asylum, Sarsinmmor, in Cornwall. There he meets the other painters (Burne-Jones and mad Jacobus Candell, Learmont's patient, who holds the key to the mystery and who managed to see the other world, which he obsessively shows in his paintings...), the poet Algernon Swinburne, as well as intriguing Evienne Upstone, another patient.

The protagonist of one of the present-time parts is another American, the journalist Daniel Rowlands, who arrived in London on a sabbatical to do research on his book about Tristan and Isolde. Daniel stays at the flat of his friend, a rock group leader Nick. When Daniel visits Nick and his girlfriend Sira for dinner, they introduce him to Larkin, a charming woman who once was involved with Nick...

The third part features Valentine Comstock, a talented, disturbed artist, whose half-brother, Simon, commissions him to deliver one of their father's paintings to London... The events from Val's childhood and early teenage years at the family home, Goldengrove in maine, are essential to the plot and are presented in chapter two (Val is also the only one whose story is narrated in the first person's voice, a meaningful fact).

So, London is the place where all the plots come together and mix - but the climax takes the reader again to the English countryside, where Nature allows humans to see other worlds again...

I loved the characters, who are well developed, really human, very different from each other, colorful and interesting. All three main characters as well as secondary ones (Nick, Sira, Simon; blue-nailed Dr. Juda Trent and Red, the Goldengrove housekeeper) have psychological depth and are believable. I am tempted to reveal more of the plot and the characters, but I do not want to include spoilers, so I have to resist the temptation...

I am not especially fond of the Pre-Raphaelites (the androgynic beauty of the women painted by Burne-Jones and Rossetti does not appeal to me), but this book made me long to know more about them. The devil is in details and I was very proud to discover some of them, although I am sure I do not know enough to properly appreciate all the nuances of this novel. The theme of the feminine deity connects it with the rest of Hand's writings (and the nice touch is the brief appearance of Professor Balthazar Warnick from "Waking the Moon"). The aura of mystery is enhanced by the introduction of the Faerie world (which the mortals can only catch a glimpse of, but whose inhabitants venture freely into our realm), leading in turn to tropes from Tolkien and Old English myths. The folklore is a strong element of the story, full of quotations and allusions to works of literature and art - the chapter titles are a delight!

I know I will come back to "Mortal Love" and read it again with the same pleasure. This urge to read again seems to be a typical feature of Elizabeth Hand's novels. I heartily recommend this original author.