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10 of 11 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
Brilliant book, July 13, 2008
"Hawksmoor" is actually one of my very favorite books, and certainly ranks with "Dan Leno and the Limehouse Golem" as one of Ackroyd's best. Yes, it does travel back and forth in time and space, but it is not difficult for an attentive reader to follow. Ackroyd's knowledge of the esoteric underpinnings of numerology and architecture, and his vast knowledge of the history and culture of London make this book a rewarding mystery. I cannot visit a Hawksmoor church now without this book haunting my steps.
I've read it repeatedly, and taught it in an "Alternative Londons" course (with "From Hell" and "Neverwhere", two more superior London books). Students have loved it. Not, perhaps to everyone's taste, but highly recommended. If you're looking for emotional ties to characters (as the other reviewer seemed to be), look elsewhere; part of the novel's mood lies in the icy detachment of the characters in both timelines. If you're looking for a brainy adventure with more than a touch of the creepy supernatural, this is a book for you.
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2 of 2 people found the following review helpful:
2.0 out of 5 stars
Interesting but Somewhat Pointless, September 2, 2009
I am a mystery fan who recently read Hawksmoor so that this review is from the perspective of a mystery fan. As has been pointed out, the book revolves around two parallel stories, one in the eighteenth century and one in the "present" (about 20 years ago). The eighteenth century part of the book is written in first person and the writing for this part of the book is well done. The use of eighteenth century English really helps one feel the mood of post-plague London. It is a bit difficult to follow in some places, but the effort is worth the time. One the other hand, the writing for the "present" part of the book is not nearly as well done. Much of the dialogue is awkward, and the plot is rather thin. Ackroyd also has an annoying habit of making the parallelism between the two stories very very obvious. It seems that on every other page he seems to be screaming at you: "Remember these two stories are parallel!". O.K., I get it already! I was also amazed at how Ackroyd becomes so wrapped up in attempting to use pretentious writing, that he seems to lose his common sense. At one point, Ackroyd makes a comment that time passes like points on a balloon the is being blown up, his point being that all of the points on the balloon move away from each other at the same rate. The problem is that this is not true! The points on the neck of the balloon stay relatively close whereas points on the other end of the balloon move away from each other at a much faster rate.
However, my main disappointment with the book is the plot for the "present" part of the story. Not only is the plot thin, but the ending leaves one wondering if the last chapter of the book was truncated. I would have been much happier just reading the eighteenth century part of the book by itself.
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2 of 3 people found the following review helpful:
4.0 out of 5 stars
An Extraordinary Brew, August 24, 2009
"An extraordinary brew" -- this description from the Financial Times is apt. The book is indeed extraordinary -- a pitch-perfect narrative from the early 18th century, written in period style, slang, and spelling, interspersed with what is ostensibly a modern crime novel. But the whole is very much a witches' brew, with undertones of persistent evil and echoes of the occult. The title character, Nicholas Hawksmoor, is a homicide detective, but do not be misled into thinking that this will turn out to be a simple whodunnit in which a brilliant feat of detection at the end will lay to rest the evils of the past. Chief Superintendent Hawksmoor does not appear until halfway through the book, and his function is more to draw out the miasma of mystery rather than dispel it.
The historical Hawksmoor was an English baroque architect, somewhat younger than Christopher Wren, responsible for rebuilding six of the London churches destroyed in the Great Fire. Whereas Wren's churches are models of classical restraint, Hawksmoor's often break with tradition with theatrical contrasts of mass and darkness; Ackroyd describes the combination as terror and magnificence. No doubt inspired by the man's extraordinary vision, and by the fact that the Office of Works at the time was located in Scotland Yard, Ackroyd has done a simple transposition, giving Hawksmoor's name to a modern detective and calling his architect Nicholas Dyer -- but Hawksmoor in all but name and beliefs. The two centuries are connected by much more than an exchange of names, however. Popular sayings, street songs, new images, and old superstitions zigzag between the alternating chapters, until the entire novel seems to be one unending nightmare. For Ackroyd's Dyer is a believer in a much older religion than Christianity, whose force reaches even to the present day.
I give the book four stars only because it is not my personal cup of tea and I found it challenging to read. But there is no doubt of Ackroyd's brilliance. Published in 1985, this is one of the first and best of those time-telescoping modern mysteries that have their roots in the past; think a small step away from the magic realism of Gabriel Garcia Marquez along a path leading eventually to Dan Brown. It is also amazingly informative. Ackroyd captures the 18th-century flavor perfectly with Dyer's writing, like a time-machine of period detail: "I had no sooner walked into Whitehall than I hollad for a Coach; it was of the Antique kind with Tin Sashes not Glass, pinked like the bottom of a Cullender that the Air might pass through the Holes: I placed my Eyes against them to see the Town as I passed within it and it was then broken into Peeces, with a Dog howling here and a Child running there...". No one sample does justice to the riches of the whole. My only problem is that the chapters are long, and the modern episodes which might have been expected to give variety, seem gray by comparison and unbearably -- though necessarily -- claustrophobic.
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