by Cathryn Conroy (Dublin, Ohio): This. Is. Brilliant! Author Louis Bayard has done what few authors can do: He has perfectly mimicked the style of another—in this case, Charles Dickens. This is so difficult. We each—even if all you write are work emails—have our own style. To put that aside and write as if you were someone else is a feat worthy of only the best writers. And Louis Bayard is one of the best.
He has creatively imagined the future of Tiny Tim, a beloved character in Charles Dickens’s “A Christmas Carol.” In this novel, Tiny Tim is grown up. His iron brace and crutch are gone, and he only has limp, albeit a noticeable one. Remember how Ebenezer Scrooge had an epiphany about kindness, compassion, and generosity? Well, in Bayard’s tale he adopted the Cratchit kids, insisting they call him Uncle Ebenezer, which they soon shortened to Uncle Neezer and then Uncle N. Let’s just say that Tim is not in need of money.
It’s December 1860 in murky, foggy London, the height of Advent. We find Tim, now known as Mr. Timothy, living in a whore house. It’s not what you think. He needs a place to live, and the madam needs someone to teach her how to read. A deal is struck. Besides, Mr. Timothy has little interest in ladies. All of this is an attempt to extricate himself from Uncle N’s money.
On a shivering cold night by the river, Mr. Timothy discovers the body of a little girl about 10 years old, who has been branded on the upper arm with the letter “G” and a pair of eyes. And then he finds another. He is haunted by this. Soon enough he encounters two urchins about the same age: Colin and Philomela. Colin is a mastermind at small jobs that earn small coins, but soon enough he gains Mr. Timothy’s full trust. Philomela, who speaks Italian and little English, also bears the mysterious and frightening brand. Why? Who gave it to her?
Mr. Timothy is determined to find out who did this to her and what these malevolent people want with her—but it may kill him before he is able to save her. What he does discern is evil and criminal—and will make all good readers shudder in despair and agony.
Just like the great author whom Bayard is emulating, he portrays in all its meanness and wickedness the callous and appalling exploitation of children in British society in the mid-19th century. And just like a Charles Dickens’ novel, this one starts out very slowly…but stick with it because the reward is a page-turner you won’t soon forget.
This is a literary thriller at its finest and is the perfect book for December.
