Lancaster Book Group- Daughters of Witching Hill and all the other Pendle Witchy books

So I haven't posted in a while. My bad.
Anyhoo this month my book group decided to take things in a more supernatural direction. Living in Lancaster as we do we could hardly fair to know about the infamous Pendle Witches, hung in this very town almost exactly 400 years ago just up the road from where we meet. The witches trial, well documented by clerk Thomas Potts, has sparked the imagination of many. The most famous novel associated with these poor unfortunate souls is probably Robert Neill's 'Mist Over Pendle', which I read as a teenager going to that all to common 'gothic' phase. It was written in the early 50's, and took the view that the witches were probably stupid dirty ragamuffins who didn't know any better and we should pity them. Also Roger Nowell (the magistrate that accused the witches) was a kindly old gentleman who didn't really want to hang the crazy peasants and he had a cousin who is BATSHIT CRAZY about NEW DRESSES.

Before Mr. Neill and his DRESS OBSESSION (seriously, it's a good 12 years since I read this and the main thing I can remember is how much the cousin went on about having a new dress, and fabrics for that dress and designs for kirtles and OH GOD KILL ME NOW) we had to rely on William Ainsworth and his 1849 'The Lancashire Witches'. Now I have a copy of this and I haven't read it (again, my bad) but given that I have read the last page and the witches GET BURNT AT THE HISTORICALLY INACCURATE STAKE (so never happened to any witches in England) I think I can categorically state that I won't be impressed.  It's fair to say then that the old witches were due a new novel, perhaps by someone who can actually be bothered to read the account of the trial (available here for free so no excuses) and doesn't get distracted by a nice bonnet and velvet cuff.

So American Mary Sharratt took up the call. I'd get all irate about her not being British and never having been to the arse end of rural nowhere that is Pendle (I can say that I'm from round there) but credit where credit is due the woman lived over here for a while, so kudos to her.
Sharratt takes the approach of 'the witches were poor but kindly healing wise women who did lots of good but were cruelly treated by 'da man' and were forced into being a bit naughty sometimes'. This is a much more PC interpretation, full of feminist thought on medieval witchcraft (see Mary Daly, and then run away) where cruel, heartless men-folk burn those adorable old midwives with their healing herbs and fondness for the 'old ways' and then go away to chortle and drink claret. I'm not saying that was wrong, hell I wasn't there I dunno, but it all just sounds a bit to simple and straightforward to me. History is never as easy as it looks, in 200 years 9/11 will be some 'naughty' Muslims attacking kind hearted, innocent America for no good reason. We know, we lived through it, is was WAY more complicated than that.

So anyway, enough of my witchy ranting, what about the goddamn book? Well it was alright, it was all a bit simple, the witches were good, the rich men-folk were bad and there was a few 'oooh was it witchcraft or just a big coincidence' moments to get you tapping your chin in intrigue. It was told first person all the way through, between either Demdike (the classic grandma witch) and her pretty but naive granddaughter Alizon. This worked well until the bit where Alizon got hung, and we were with the narrative right up until she heard the executioner let her drop which just left you going 'well how in the name of all that is Lancastrian did she ever write this down' which spoiled it somewhat. Somewhat short sighted for an experienced author. Otherwise I liked it, it kept me reading, I found no major historical inaccuracies and it was mostly believable if a little idealistic.

In a few months Jeanette Winterson publishes her own take on the Pendle Witches, who are fast become the new Spice Girls. Will you take historically inaccurate-witch Ainsworth, clothing obsessed witch Neill, men hating witch Sharratt or new and improved lesbian witch Winterson. Take your pick readers!

Lancaster Reading Group: The Interpretation of Murder- Jed Rubenfeld

It's fair to say I wouldn't have touched this book with a 10 foot barge pole if it hadn't of been the title selected for my reading group last month. It has the icky 'Richard and Judy'/ in every charity shop for 50p/ generic man walking on a sepia cover-ness about it to really turn me off. To add further insult to injury a copy of said masterpiece had been languishing on my shelf for at least 2 years before me finally deciding to cull it and send it to the charity shop a few weeks ago. Also I hate Freud.

My major issue with books like this is the blatant name-dropping in order to sell books. The author (or perhaps more likely their publisher) tries to sell the book by making the reader feel more intellectual than they actually are. I believe the thought process runs something like "I always wanted to study psychology... ugh those psychology textbooks are big and boring looking... ZOMFG! HERE IS A FICTION BOOK ABOUT FREUD, I CAN GET CLEVER WITHOUT HAVING TO TRY LOLZ". This is particularly painful in this book as Freud is really a fairly minor character, who mostly sits in his hotel room being smug and wetting himself.

And speaking of trying to be clever, isn't Mr. Rubenfeld the smarty-pants? What the author doesn't know about New York, Psychology and Architecture isn't worth knowing, and apparently the reader needs to be told ALL OF IT. These snippets of information, while generally quite interesting, feel forced into the story. This makes the author come across as smug and patronising, which is never a good thing.

Anyway THE STORY is your fairly typical whodunit, and it is the need to know who did the rather raunchy and attention grabbing murder in the first few pages of the novel that kept me reading. Of course the actual answer to that question is VERY convoluted and complicated and wrapped up in sex and psychology and femme fatals and secret passageways and OH NO I'VE GONE CROSS EYED. Honestly by the end I still wasn't sure who had done it, or even if it had been 'done' at all!

All that said it wasn't that bad. I read it. I didn't vom. It was meh.

2 out of 5 stars, for the sheer fact that I didn't guess who did it within 50 pages.