The Sunday Times/Peters Fraser + Dunlop Young Writer Of The Year Award, in association with The University of Warwick Shortlist: The Mermaid and Mrs Hancock by Imogen Hermes Gowar

Cover image Regular visitors to this blog will know that I tend not to review historical novels. There are exceptions, of course – Jake Arnott’s The Fatal Tree and Andrew Miller’s Now We Shall be Entirely Free spring to mind – but generally my feet are planted firmly in the twenty-first century. You might be surprised then to hear that Imogen Hermes Gowar’s The Mermaid and Mrs Hancock was already sitting on my shelves waiting to be read before its shortlisting boosted it to the front of the queue. Gowar’s novel begins in 1785 with a Deptford merchant taking delivery of a wizened figure said to be a mermaid. Across town, a courtesan sits pondering what to do now her patron has died.

Jonah Hancock is haunted by the stillbirth of his son and the death of his wife, burying himself in business, proud of his astute merchant’s eye and glowing reputation. When Captain Jones arrives, bearing the mermaid acquired by the sale of his ship, Hancock is at first horrified then persuaded that this shrivelled figure will make his fortune. He finds himself courted by Mrs Chappell, the sharp-eyed madam of a bordello who spots a business opportunity, persuading him to rent her the mermaid. Mrs Chappell enlists the help of Angelica Neal, much reduced following the death of her patron, instructing her to devote herself to Hancock at the lavish opening party for the creature’s display. Hancock isn’t as green as he may seem – he’s visited a prostitute or two – but he’s appalled by the lascivious goings-on, shrugging off the attentions of Angelica but not before falling heavily for her carefully cultivated charms. Out he walks, leaving Angelica to conceive her own passion which leads her into desperate trouble. When he next sees her, Angelica sets him a seemingly impossible task: she wants him to find her another mermaid.

Gowar’s novel has more than a touch of the morality tale about it along the lines of Thackeray’s Vanity Fair or Michel Faber’s The Crimson Petal and the White, exploring the position of women in eighteenth-century society all wrapped up in a good old-fashioned bit of storytelling replete with period detail. Women are dependent on men to make their way in this world – Mrs Chappell earns her money from their debauchery, Bel finds her way to respectability and security through marriage – Mrs Flowerday is perhaps the most independent, shrewdly using her dowry as a counterweight when her husband oversteps the mark. As in the best morality tales, there’s a great deal of sly wit running through the narrative:

Mr Trevithick steps aside to draw her attention to the flagellation machine which sits in the corner awaiting its weekly polish.

Gowar engages our sympathy for her characters, deftly rounding them out: Hancock is a decent man, hoping to step up the social ladder but ill at ease with it, and Angelica’s flightiness is tempered with memories of an impoverished childhood. Just one criticism: I found the mermaid’s voice a little jarring but her passages are both short and few. Altogether a thoroughly enjoyable piece of fiction, both absorbing and entertaining with a hefty helping of redemption.

If you’d like to see what my fellow shadow judge Amanda at Bookish Chat thinks of Gowar’s novel, her review is here. You can find out more about the award by visiting www.youngwriteraward, following @youngwriteryear or keep up with us shadow judges at #youngwriterawardshadow,

16 thoughts on “The Sunday Times/Peters Fraser + Dunlop Young Writer Of The Year Award, in association with The University of Warwick Shortlist: The Mermaid and Mrs Hancock by Imogen Hermes Gowar”

        1. I’m sure you’d love it. There’s a great BBC adaptation staring Romola Garai and Chris O’Dowd, too. I was deeply sceptical that they’d do it justice but they did, and retained the feminist slant. Throughly recommended for a winter afternoon but read the book first!

  1. It’s funny, I *say* that I love historical fiction and I read lots of it … yet there are some eras, subgenres and particular authors I wouldn’t touch with a 10-foot pole. (Although I, too, make my exceptions: ‘the Tudors, ugh’, but I’ve read Hilary Mantel’s series and think Bring Up the Bodies is brilliant.) I have a special love for Victorian settings. But I sense that what you’re saying is that you don’t want a book to be chiefly about its historical context, but for that to just be expertly woven into the background of what would be a compelling and well-written character-driven plot from any time period.

    As to this particular book, I stalled on it earlier in the year but may someday go back. I’m glad you and others have enjoyed it so much.

    1. I think you’ve summed it up nicely there, Rebecca, although part of the pleasure of Jake Arnott’s The Fatal Tree, for instance, is his use of eighteenth-century thieves’ argot. I loved it when Gowar used ‘dandyprat’!

  2. I was getting hooked on this right up to the point where you said you didn’t care for the mermaid’s voice. That set my non -realist antennae humming. I just can’t get into books which have other world characters

  3. Coincidentally, this is one which has come through for me (via the library hold list) just now, so your review certainly ignites my interest yet again. But I am nearing the end of my Shadow Giller reading (in the eleventh of the twelve books, with the twelfth now ready for pickup at the library as well) so I might not be able to make it to this chunky little delight just now after all. (There’s an Alice Hoffman with an interesting mermaid-ish angle. Also a Carol Shields.)

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