Showing posts with label Cauldstane. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cauldstane. Show all posts

Wednesday, 18 June 2014

Cauldstane by Linda Gillard, reviewed by Mari Biella

This is the first novel by Linda Gillard I’ve read, despite her being, so I understand, one of the most popular author-publishers around today. I really don’t know why it took me so long, but I’m very glad I finally made a start and read Cauldstane. The writing is easy, fluid, and the story well-told and compelling; I found myself believing absolutely in Cauldstane Castle and its highly diverse group of inhabitants.

Cauldstane is, in the words of the author, “a gothic novel in the tradition of Daphne du Maurier and Victoria Holt.” The story follows professional ghost-writer Jenny – or J.J. Ryan, as she is professionally known – as she travels to the remote Cauldstane Castle in the Scottish Highlands to meet the Laird, the adventurous and utterly charming Sholto MacNab. Jenny has been employed to write his autobiography, and in order to get to know him and learn about his life she plans to spend a while living in the household, which comprises Sholto, his sons Fergus and Alec, his sister Zelda, and Wilma, the housekeeper and home-baking enthusiast. In many ways, Cauldstane is a comfortable, and comforting, place: Wilma delivers regular snacks and drinks, meals are plentiful and generous, and the surroundings charming and full of character. Yet the castle is also something of a museum, a place where the detritus of centuries is stored. The MacNabs, as is often the case in Gothic fiction, are oppressed by the weight of their own history, and troubled by their future prospects, or lack thereof. The castle, and the lifestyle of the family, are “a building and way of life in its death throes.”

Cauldstane is beautifully described, to such an extent that I thought of it as a real place while I was reading. The problems inherent in the management of the place – its size, the cost of running it, and the fact that the MacNabs simply cannot afford it – do not diminish its romance. But this romance comes at a terrible price. “Let Fear be Far from All” is the MacNab motto, but in reality this is a family living in an almost constant state of nagging fear. Sholto has lost both his wives, and his son Alec has been widowed; there’s even a curse that supposedly dictates that any woman marrying a Cauldstane heir will either die young or remain childless, which makes MacNab males something of an unappealing prospect to many women. Interestingly, the MacNabs themselves are sceptical about the existence of the curse, but it continues to throw a shadow over their lives; more interestingly still, the curse is never actually shown to be false during the novel, and indeed is seen to be fulfilled time and again. This in turn raises a question: can somebody be negatively affected by something that they do not believe in, something that might not even exist?

An enormous portrait of Sholto’s second wife, Meredith, dominates the interior of the castle – as does the woman herself, despite having died several years before. In an echo of du Maurier’s Rebecca, Meredith’s hold over Cauldstane and the people living there actually seems to have increased following her death. And Jenny is soon affected too, as her association with the MacNabs becomes more than purely professional. The growing attraction between her and Alec could come at a high personal price: somebody doesn’t want her at the castle, and will go to great lengths to force her out.

Many elements combine to make Cauldstane such an enjoyable read. One is the setting: the lonely, atmospheric castle is almost a character in its own right, and tends to dominate the human characters (another common element in much Gothic fiction). Yet the human protagonists are rounded, realistic and, for the most part, sympathetic. Sholto was my personal favourite, but Jenny too was an interesting and engaging, if atypical, heroine: she’s forty and unmarried, and not altogether happy about this; she’s had some rather vague psychological problems in the past and continues to worry about her mental state, which has interesting ramifications when much that happens to her at Cauldstane seems calculated to cast doubt upon her sanity. And she has her own secrets – not as dark as those of Cauldstane, but ones that continue to haunt her.

I understand that Linda Gillard was once traditionally-published, before her publishers allowed her to go the indie route. That’s a decision I simply don’t understand from any point of view: Gillard writes not only well but in what I imagine to be a highly marketable vein. Happily, she’s now self-publishing, so no one need go without her books. If you enjoy Gothic romance or sheer escapism, you might want to pick up Cauldstane. In the words of one of the characters, “it has all the right ingredients . . . Money. Class. Sex. Scandal. And a big country house.”

Tuesday, 4 February 2014

Cauldstane: Linda Gillard, reviewed by Kathleen Jones

Cauldstane

by Linda Gillard


Since I discovered The House of Silence, I've been reading Linda Gillard's award-winning novels and wondering why on earth her publisher ever allowed her to go 'Indie'.  She's providing exactly what readers seem to want - a rattling good story, interesting characters, romance, real dilemmas and traumas we can all empathise with, and an original mix of genre elements.  If you like this recipe, you're never going to get bored.  Not all Linda's books are to my taste, but the writing is always impeccable.

I've followed the genesis of Cauldstane via Linda's Facebook author page and been intrigued by the little snippets she's shared.  I also admired her determination to press on with the book through the long recovery process of a serious brush with cancer.  Her honesty and integrity in sharing her journey gave me a greater respect for her skills as an author.  This is someone who writes about traumatic human situations with personal knowledge.  It's this compassion and empathy that inform the pages of this unusual novel. Think Northanger Abbey meets Daphne du Maurier and Bridget Jones with a bit of Downton Abbey thrown in. It's absolutely modern and gloriously gothic.

There's a remote and decrepit Scottish castle, (with a curse attached, of course), a wicked stepmother, a feisty but emotionally vulnerable heroine, more handsome men than you can shake a sword at, and a very dangerous ghost.  The main male character, Sholto, has made a career out of adventure, but is now getting old, short of money to keep the roof over his head intact, and wants to tell his sometimes scandalous life story.  He has chosen J.J. Ryan to ghost-write it for him, picking the name from a Society of Authors list of recommendations without realising that J.J. is a woman.  Jenny falls in love with Cauldstane and its occupants and is totally committed to the project, until ghost-writing of another kind comes between her and the family.  To tell you more would be to spoil the plot, so I won't.

I'm not a great fan of the Gothic genre, though I did read quite a lot of it when I was younger, but this novel is a really good read and I was happy to suspend disbelief and just enjoy myself between the covers.  It could only be improved by being read with a stiff malt whisky in one hand and a plate of Mrs Guthrie's ginger cakes on the side!


Kathleen Jones writes fiction, poetry and biography and blogs over at 'A Writer's Life'.

www.kathleenjones.co.uk


The Sun's Companion, published by The Book Mill, 2013