Discovery of Witches

Discovery of Witches by Deborah Harkness

Published by Viking 2011

Notice: this review is more of a commentary on today’s popular fantasy fiction than it is an actual review of the book “Discovery of Witches” by Deborah Harkness.

There has been much hype around “Discovery of Witches”, especially in the indie book markets where supernatural and fantasy fiction seem more able to hold place with contemporary literature and popular fiction. Word of mouth and book seller reviews promoted this title as “highly addictive” and “a wonderfully imaginative grown-up fantasy.”

While exciting and interesting with supernatural magic, and as unique as it may be with new theories on witches, vampires and demons, it suffers the same fatal flaw that another popular fantasy title does. (More on that in a minute) It has a completely unsympathetic main character. Diana Bishop is a witch, from yes, an old, old American family of witches (think Salem). She doesn’t want to be a witch, however. She wants to be a scholar, and a human one at that. So she represses her magical abilities as best she can. Her parents died a rather tragic death in her youth and it is this which the author wants the reader to accept as reason enough for her to abandon her family history and hide her abilities. Believable, but not something that makes the reader have any real sympathy for her. Then comes pages and pages describing what an intelligent scholar she is, how she is also an expert rower and runner, her ability to walk with her eyes closed, her mad yoga skills, and her uncanny sense of smell that enables her to discriminate wine like a sommelier. Top this off with the handsome centuries old vampire that falls madly in love with her, and the author has created a protagonist the reader can’t even like let alone sympathize with. Harkness did a fine job of setting up Diana’s life. The reader can believe that, until the moment she requests a certain hidden manuscript, her life is moving along somewhat normally. What Harkness doesn’t do is give the reader any reason to care.

Consider this, many people believe the current craze in fantasy literature, especially ones geared towards the new market of young woman and hip middle-aged mothers, started with Harry Potter. There are others who might say we give J.K. Rowling too much credit. She wrote decent books that just happened to hit the market at the right time. What she really did however, was simply follow one of the golden rules of writing; create a protagonist that your readers will relate to. From the very first chapter of “The Sorcerer’s Stone” the reader is rooting for Harry. They want Harry to have a better life, to live a dream, to be special and not stuck in the room under the stairs. When Hagrid breaks down that door, readers whoop with joy. From the very first chapter of Harkness’ book, the reader wants to slap Diana across the face and tell her to smarten up. Quit moaning about how awful it is to be from this long line of witches and how stressful it is to be a paid scholar at a prestigious university.

Perhaps this wouldn’t have bothered this reviewer as much if it didn’t come right after completing “The Magicians” by Lev Grossman. Another fantasy book that was hyped up by indie book sellers and has become a cult favorite. It is filled with wonderful ideas about magic and magicians. It certainly deserves it’s label as “Harry Potter for adults.” But it suffers the same problem. The main character is always complaining. Life isn’t what he wants it to be. Even when all his dreams come true and he discovers magic is real, his favorite fantasy world is real, he still isn’t satisfied. By the end of the book, the reader just doesn't care that everything didn’t work out the way he wanted.

It is as if current writers of fantasy literature are only attempting to get their wondrous ideas out there. They have neglected the fact that literature can’t survive on the ideas alone but needs characters. Look at George R. R. Martin, rapidly becoming the most well known and well loved fantasy author in decades. Yes, he has brilliant ideas, he has created a fantastic world, he has a complicated and detail plot; he has also filled his books with characters that come alive. Whether you hate them or love them, his characters are what move the story along. And he has dozens of them! Gather a group of Martin fans and ask them who their favorite character is. Guaranteed there will be a host of different answers and most people won’t be able to name just one.

Both Harness and Grossman’s books are filled with fantastic ideas. The authors have spent time thinking about how magic and vampires and other supernatural things might truly exist in this world. On that alone, both books are fun to read. Certainly other readers are able to sympathize with the protagonists in a way this reviewer could not.

It is a worry that this rift in character development is going to grow worse. Will readers continue to be dazzled by bold ideas and fantastical situations and not demand that these components come with well developed characters? My next read is “The Night Circus” by Erin Morgenstern. I am not so jaded by these recent trends in fantasy literature that I will give it up all together. I’m hoping Erin renews my faith.

The Swerve

The Swerve: How the World Became Modern by Stephen Greenblatt
published by W.W. Norton 2011

“The Swerve” is a tale of Lucretius’ Latin masterpiece On the Nature of Things; its loss and rediscovery by Italian book hunter Poggio Bracciolini. The title comes from Lucretius’ idea that the atoms which make up our world continually combine, divide, form and reform in a random swerve. Whether this theory and Lucretius’ poem spawned the modern world, or even the Renaissance, Greenblatt never fully establishes. What he does do however is provide a riveting account of On the Nature of Things creation, popularity, repression and rebirth.

Wonderfully engaging, Greenblatt’s theory begins with the Roman thinker Epicurus. Epicurus’ belief that everything in existence, from celestial bodies to the lowliest of creatures, is made of indestructible tiny building blocks called atoms is the heart of Lucretius’ poem. The notion of atoms spawned the theory that a hidden natural order ruled the universe, not divine beings. What Epicurus taught and what philosophers like Lucretius believed was that this concept freed people from fear of the unknown and allowed them to pursue the highest good, pleasure.

Greenblatt follows Lucretius’ poem through its popularity among the Roman elite to its suppression by Christian fundamentalists and its eventual rediscovery in a remote German monastery. Throughout this journey he reveals the glamorous world of Herculaneum, follows the downfall of Alexandrian intellectual life, exposes the sufferings of monks, and examines the wonderful art of book making until he arrives at the papal court and the rise of humanists like Poggio Bracciolini.

A pleasure to read and much less academic than might be expected, Greenblatt engages the reader from the beginning and consistently dazzles with intellectual insight. The “cynical, competitive court” in which Poggio is employed and which houses numerous corrupt and scandalous popes as well as back-stabbing apostolic secretaries, would be worthy of any HBO dramatic series.

He may never prove that On the Nature of Things spawned the modern world, but the fact that Galileo, Freud, Darwin, Einstein and Thomas Jefferson all admired the poem may be proof enough for some. Greenblatt, for his part, certainly makes an entertaining and educational effort. “The Swerve” is worthwhile reading for anyone interested in Roman or Christian history, philosophy, humanism or literature.