In August, I featured the launching of Tidewater:
A Novel of Pocahontas and the Jamestown Colony, by Libbie Hawker on this blog.
I was fascinated that this
fellow-writer of Ancient Egyptian history had not only changed to a different
pen name, but had ‘come home,’ so to speak. With the haunting cover of a girl
named Mischief (Pocahontas), I thought my interest with it was done.
Until I started reading the book. As a discerning reader,
Tidewater
took my breath away; as a writer, it left me humbled. Language is our
extraordinary ability so often squandered and defiled these days. With Tidewater,
Libbie Hawker has restored this precious gift to her readers. Those who might
shy away from the word “lyrical” will sadly be missing out. There are a number of similes and at some time, I wondered if they would become a detractor; but soon, just like "Il Postino" craving the poet Pablo Neruda's metaphors, I savored the trompe l'oeil Hawker created for my mind.
We can be thankful that this—true, quite long—novel
is self-published. I shudder to think that a publisher, eager to adhere to
production-hemmed constraints, would have slashed and burned much of the
descriptive and, yes, lyrical passages. It would still have been a terrific story;
but it would have lost its soul. Of course, Libbie Hawker is no newcomer to
writing. Under the pen name of Lavender Ironside, her historical fiction set in
Ancient Egypt is highly successful.
Back to Tidewater: I am not prone to
gushing. But this is by far one of the most beautiful, expressive novels I have
read in quite a while. As I said, it is long; it demands care and attention.
But the reward is deep involvement, from the natural settings to the people’s
lives. You can feel the icy wind bite into bare skin, smell the last frozen
berries being harvested, and sense dark eyes ghosting through the underbrush.
The clash of two cultures is insidious at first,
ebbing back and forth like the sea washing into the mouth of the tidewater; its
mudflats sucking at careless intruders. Timorous trading, bold demands,
arrogance and unequal battles finally seal the fate of this New World. Caught
up in it, through young curiosity and an inane desire to be recognized by her
elders, is the girl-child aptly-named Mischief: Pocahontas.
As the well-adapted ‘Naturals’ and the befuddled
English settlers continue to struggle against nature and each other, their
survival becomes the focal point of the novel. Without unnecessary gore or
heroics, you are placed squarely into the middle of the conflict, rooting for one
then the other, wishing that none of it should have to be. Both sides need to
stay true to their own culture. It was the only way they knew; their only way
to live; their only way to die.
Tidewater
is a novel I shall read again, if not solely for its story then for the
enjoyment of its writing. As both are fused into this masterful novel, I will
find new insights. I cannot recommend Tidewater
highly enough. It is truly an outstanding example of the best writing there is.
