An Instance of the Fingerpost

"This is the best book I've read this year [2010].

Most reviews describe An Instance of the Fingerpost as a "historical mystery," but the mystery component is in my view a minor part of the book.  Granted, the plot does revolve around the question of who put poison in the wine bottle, but as a whodunit it would pale next to the works of classic mystery writers.  The value for me was to step right into the 17th century and get a sense of people's lives and attitudes and beliefs.

The story is told by four narrators (which, as my wife reminded me, is basically the format for Rashomon), and, as in that movie, the narrations differ on key points.  By the time I was on the third narrative, I started going back to read the first one again to compare salient points.  Doing so was not  onerous, because Pears writes in a style that's very easy to read, and despite writing about the 17th century he seems to avoid the temptation to litter the text with archaic words.

The most difficult aspect (for me, perhaps not for you) was that much of the action and motivation of the characters center on the Restoration of the English monarch in the 1660s, which I have never much understood, or frankly cared about.  But I did learn a lot about ordinary people's lives and the role of women and the birth pangs of medical science and the conflicts of religious dogma and the ethics of the time.

This is not a quick read; you're looking at some 600+ pages even if you don't flip back and forth to compare stories.  But it won't take long to figure out if you like it or not; I should think in an hour's time, after reading a chapter or two, you'll know whether or not you're going to enjoy it.

After finishing this book, I checked out another novel by this author (The Dream of Scipio), but found that one too cumbersome to follow as it shuttled between three people in different centuries; Pears is an art historian by profession and has written some mysteries about that field of study, so perhaps I should try one of those.

Those who have read the book, please feel free to chime in with your own thoughts."

Reposted from 2010 to add additional commentary.

For as long as I can remember I've been recording the titles of books I've read and given them a "grade" from 1-4+.  Those rated 3+ were worth the time and the 4+ are ones I might like to read again in the future.  Last year I posted in TYWKIWDBI a list of my 4+ rated books.

As I noted at that time in a comment, I'm reaching such an advanced age that common sense suggests that if I'm ever going to re-read the best stuff, I'd better get started.  So this summer I picked from my list this book, which I had read in 2010.  As I started the re-read I realized that there were important plot points I had forgotten, including the identity of the person who poisoned the wine bottle, and the ultimate fate of several key characters.  Which was good.

Once again I was in awe over the scholarship of the author, whose breadth and depth of knowledge about 17th century history, science, medicine,  law, ethics etc is extensive.  And again I was pleased by the style of the narration.  But once again I quickly tired of the details of 17th century royal politics and intrigue.  By the time I finished the first three sections by the "unreliable narrators" I was tempted to demote the book to a 3+.  But then I encountered the wonderful fourth section by the "truth-teller" (Oxford antiquarian Anthony Wood, if you want to keep track of him in the first 3 sections).  That final section sorted out all of the mysteries and puzzlements and discrepancies among the first three narrations, and I was delighted to discover anew the identity of the poisoner and the surprising fate of the principal characters.

I need to avoid any comments that might serve as spoilers, but I will append some notes I made during the second read...

Several references to the "elaboratory" of scientist Robert Boyle.  The word is now obsolete, but hints at the relation of "laboratory" and "elaborate."

A comment re a planned public dissection of a human cadaver elicits the comment that "All that will happen is that you will furnish a rarity show for any spoitty undergraduate who cares to come along and watch."  Perhaps related to the modern term "raree show" as cheap entertainment.

One character has an inflamed eye which he has been treating with ingredients he prepared himself... "What ingredients were they?"  "Dried dog excrement," he said.  "What?"  "I had it from my doctor... the king's physician... and a man of good family.  It is an infallible cure, tested through the ages.  A pedigree dog, as well.  It belongs to the warden." (p. 97)  The status of medical diagnosis and care of this period are recurrently cringeworthy.

After three characters eat at a tavern, they call for the shared pipe:  "... Wood took a sip of his drink, and called over to the serving hatch for a pipe to be brought.  Lower added his call for one as well, but I declined.  Not that I object to a little tobacco in the evening, especially when my bowels are tight, but sometimes pipes which have been overused by the general clientele of taverns do have a taste of sour spittle..." (p. 196)

"It had been a complicated case and the town was by no means convinced of her guilt.  She had killed a man whom she said had raped her, but the jury judged this a lie because she had fallen pregnant, which cannot occur without the woman taking pleasure in the act.  Normally her condition would have spared her the gallows, but she had lost the child and also any defense against the hangman.  An unfortunate outcome, which those who believed in her guilt considered divine providence." (204)  

"The old couple in charge of the house had promised us a hot bath when we introduced ourselves at midday and I was eager to take up the offer: I had not immersed since the previous autumn and felt that not only could my constitution stand it, my morale would be immeasurably lifted..." (207)

"... he knew nothing of the law and believed it to have something to do with justice.  As I had once done myself, until I studied it..." (293)                

"To gain a post worth £50 a year, a friend of mine had to lay out near £750 in bribes, all borrowed at interest, and consequently must defraud the government of more than £200 per year to live decently and pay his debts..." (318)

When asked why marriage does not appeal to her, a woman replies "To hand over my hard-earned fortune to my husband?  Be unable to do anything without his permission?  Risk being disinherited of my own money when he dies?  Oh, yes.  A wonderful dream..." (430)

"Euripides talks of Tithonus, whom Eos loved so well she begged Zeus to give him eternal life.  But mistakenly she asked not for youth as well and he suffered an eternity of decrepitude until even the cruel gods took pity on him."  The legend goes on to say that Tithonus was transformed into a cicada.

"In each generation the Messiah would be reborn, would be betrayed, would die, and be resurrected, until mankind turns away from evil, and sins no more." (845)  This is an ancient belief that is carried on in part in modern Hasidic traditions.

Here is the Wikipedia page describing and illustrating fingerposts.  The reference in the book title is to an aphorism from Francis Bacon: "When in a Search of any Nature the Understanding stands suspended, then Instances of the Fingerpost shew the true and inviolable Way in which the Question is to be decided.  These Instances afford great Light, so that the Course of the Investigation will sometimes be terminated by them.  Sometimes, indeed these Instances are found amongst that Evidence already set down."

Enough.  But in closing I will add this photo of the large-print edition I received from our library.  I should think some graphic designer or copyeditor caught hell for the mistake...