Peccavi by E. W. Hornung
Aug. 16th, 2019 05:33 pmTwo things first: 1) the computer issues are resolved, and 2) there is a young blackbird perched on the outside of my windowsill about a metre away from where I'm sitting, twittering quietly to itself and apparently sheltering from the rain, and it's the most precious thing ever.
Anyway, Hornung. Peccavi (1900; the title is Latin for 'I have sinned') initially felt very different to any of his earlier books, both in its trappings and in its general mood and attitudes. It's set entirely in England, and the main character is a clergyman; it feels far more serious than any of the previous stories, and there's very little of the fun adventure story-type twisting drama here (the only major plot twist takes place right at the beginning, kicking off events; stop reading now if you want to go in completely unspoiled, as I'm going to give it away). But it does ultimately have a lot in common with them, albeit approached from a new angle: Hornung's favourite theme of wrongdoing and redemption is considered not in terms of crime and punishment but in terms of sin and atonement, and the resulting compare-and-contrast is very interesting.
The book opens on Robert Carlton, rector of the parish of Long Stow, conducting the funeral of Molly Musk, a young unmarried woman who died in childbirth. The twist, revealed almost immediately: Carlton is the child's father. Great scandal and shame ensue on this becoming generally known; Carlton becomes a social pariah and is suspended from his position, and his outraged parishioners vandalise his house and set fire to the church in revenge for what they perceive as his murder of the girl. But he refuses to resign the living of Long Stow: he remains in the ruined rectory, alone and outcast, and when none of the local builders will speak to him he sets about rebuilding the church himself, single-handedly. From there, the story follows the five years of his suspension, his progress building the church, and the changing (and not changing) attitudes of his neighbours towards Carlton, as well as the moral and spiritual journey he undergoes in attempting to atone for his sin.
It's a difficult plot to approach from a modern, secular, more consequentialist perspective—the great sin of sex outside marriage comes across as extremely foolish, hypocritical and ultimately tragic but not really an offence in the way that Carlton perceives it, and his response feels rather self-centred and more about his personal feelings than the consequences of his actions. But that's the point in some ways, and it is a story best approached on its own terms.
It's fairly clear from both this and his other books that Hornung believes redemption is possible, as long as the wrongdoer genuinely wants and works to redeem themself (Bunny was wrong!). And that's what Carlton eventually does: the church, the destruction of which he sees as the natural and just result of what he did, becomes the means of his atonement. The friends and neighbours, even the enemies, who turned against him in the beginning gradually come to relent: despite the focus on the individual soul, the reactions of the community are very important here (God is a pervasive but never especially definitive presence; in the end it's about people).
( So after all this, the ending legitimately came as a surprise. )
Besides all that, this book once again has some great female characters. Molly herself is pretty interesting, from the scraps of information we get about her life and untimely death. Gwynneth Gleed, the closest thing the story has to Hornung's 'plucky young lady' archetype, here plays a very different role. She falls in love with Carlton, being one of the first people to support him in the years of his ordeal, but she doesn't get the big romantic happy ending: she's wandered into a larger and a sadder story than any of her predecessors. Instead, however, she ends up living with a female friend as they raise Carlton's child together, which brings up all sorts of interesting possibilities of its own!
Overall, very good and very enjoyable, lots to think about. Next up, of course, is The Black Mask...
Anyway, Hornung. Peccavi (1900; the title is Latin for 'I have sinned') initially felt very different to any of his earlier books, both in its trappings and in its general mood and attitudes. It's set entirely in England, and the main character is a clergyman; it feels far more serious than any of the previous stories, and there's very little of the fun adventure story-type twisting drama here (the only major plot twist takes place right at the beginning, kicking off events; stop reading now if you want to go in completely unspoiled, as I'm going to give it away). But it does ultimately have a lot in common with them, albeit approached from a new angle: Hornung's favourite theme of wrongdoing and redemption is considered not in terms of crime and punishment but in terms of sin and atonement, and the resulting compare-and-contrast is very interesting.
The book opens on Robert Carlton, rector of the parish of Long Stow, conducting the funeral of Molly Musk, a young unmarried woman who died in childbirth. The twist, revealed almost immediately: Carlton is the child's father. Great scandal and shame ensue on this becoming generally known; Carlton becomes a social pariah and is suspended from his position, and his outraged parishioners vandalise his house and set fire to the church in revenge for what they perceive as his murder of the girl. But he refuses to resign the living of Long Stow: he remains in the ruined rectory, alone and outcast, and when none of the local builders will speak to him he sets about rebuilding the church himself, single-handedly. From there, the story follows the five years of his suspension, his progress building the church, and the changing (and not changing) attitudes of his neighbours towards Carlton, as well as the moral and spiritual journey he undergoes in attempting to atone for his sin.
It's a difficult plot to approach from a modern, secular, more consequentialist perspective—the great sin of sex outside marriage comes across as extremely foolish, hypocritical and ultimately tragic but not really an offence in the way that Carlton perceives it, and his response feels rather self-centred and more about his personal feelings than the consequences of his actions. But that's the point in some ways, and it is a story best approached on its own terms.
It's fairly clear from both this and his other books that Hornung believes redemption is possible, as long as the wrongdoer genuinely wants and works to redeem themself (Bunny was wrong!). And that's what Carlton eventually does: the church, the destruction of which he sees as the natural and just result of what he did, becomes the means of his atonement. The friends and neighbours, even the enemies, who turned against him in the beginning gradually come to relent: despite the focus on the individual soul, the reactions of the community are very important here (God is a pervasive but never especially definitive presence; in the end it's about people).
( So after all this, the ending legitimately came as a surprise. )
Besides all that, this book once again has some great female characters. Molly herself is pretty interesting, from the scraps of information we get about her life and untimely death. Gwynneth Gleed, the closest thing the story has to Hornung's 'plucky young lady' archetype, here plays a very different role. She falls in love with Carlton, being one of the first people to support him in the years of his ordeal, but she doesn't get the big romantic happy ending: she's wandered into a larger and a sadder story than any of her predecessors. Instead, however, she ends up living with a female friend as they raise Carlton's child together, which brings up all sorts of interesting possibilities of its own!
Overall, very good and very enjoyable, lots to think about. Next up, of course, is The Black Mask...