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4.12 AVERAGE
4.12 AVERAGE
This is Peters at her best (with one glaring exception), and it is a moving finale to Cadfael's story.
Here, Cadfael becomes apostate as he searches for his son Olivier, who was taken prisoner after his garrison's captains changed sides. Although other captives were identified, no one knows who holds Olivier and where. In the course of his search, Cadfael comes across old friends, such as Yves Hugonin, and meets new historical personages, such as Philip of Gloucester.
Philip was the younger son of the Empress' chief supporter and half-brother, Earl Robert of Gloucester. For several years, Philip commanded on behalf of the Empress until, about 6 years into the civil war, he switched sides and gave over a couple of castles to Stephen. History doesn't tell us why he did that, so Peters gives him a reason, and it's not a bad one.
Peter's Philip is a complex character who is too intelligent not to see and acknowledge all the grey between Stephen's black and Maud's white, and he feels deeply--both love and resentment. He struggles to find his purpose, and to reconcile his feelings towards his family. His exchanges with Cadfael are effective and, often, moving. Cadfael's steadfast and unselfish commitment to his son's welfare provokes Philip to poignantly reflect on his relationship with his father.
Cadfael's and Olivier's eventual meeting is also moving. Olivier remains the pure and perfect knight, but this time, contrasted with Philip's more complex personality, his character--while noble and good-hearted--is a bit diminished. There is no question that Cadfael loves his son and delights in him, but Cadfael's and Olivier's conversations throughout the books are never as meaningful or deep as Cadfael's with Philip's. Olivier is the son of Cadfael's loins and heart, but Philip is the son of Cadfael's mind. Not as generous or tolerant of human failings as Cadfael, but as intelligent and able to (at least intellectually) accept human differences, failings, and contradictions.
The other key theme of this final novel is Cadfael's devotion to his abbey. It's not that the earlier mysteries depicted him as impatient or disenchanted with the monastic life, but Cadfael welcomed the chance to break free from the Rule in small doses to interact with the larger world and be active in it. Now, having chosen to go without leave to find Olivier, Cadfael is forced to confront what it means for him to fully break the Rule. Although his resolve doesn't waver, it is clear that the cost is great and, perhaps, greater than Cadfael could bear. The final scene at the abbey church is lovely in its simplicity.
The glaring exception is Peters' depiction of the Empress Maud/Matilda. It is difficult to construct Matilda's character from the historical record; she appears to have been perceived as proud, but that might only have meant that she was more assertive and strong-willed than the average woman. Sexual stereotyping biases are still powerful today, and, in medieval times, when women were not supposed to hold public roles, one can only imagine how brutal the judgments were against women who stood out by seeking political prominence.
Throughout the novels, Peters suggests that Maud is haughty, quick to blame others, and unable to see her own faults. In this final book, Maud is so vicious and vindictive that she is willing to take actions that will alienate many of her followers, all because she has been slighted by someone changing his allegiance. Stephen, on the other hand, is routinely praised in all of the books as genial and chivalrous; his besetting sins are laziness and a lack of follow-through.
But it was Stephen who killed over 90 captives when he took the Shrewsbury garrison (a key historical development that plays a central role in One Corpse Too Many). And it was Stephen who would, on occasion, call nobles and churchman to his court and then imprison them, forcing them to turn over significant lands and money as payment for their freedom. Peters fails to mention these acts in her Cadfael series, instead leading the reader to believe that Stephen was really a nice guy and the kinder, fairer leader.
Authors are entitled to pick sides, of course, but distorting historical personages and the historical record for the sake of an easy villain is weak writing. Particularly when contrasted with the nuanced portrait Peters makes of Philip of Gloucester.
Here, Cadfael becomes apostate as he searches for his son Olivier, who was taken prisoner after his garrison's captains changed sides. Although other captives were identified, no one knows who holds Olivier and where. In the course of his search, Cadfael comes across old friends, such as Yves Hugonin, and meets new historical personages, such as Philip of Gloucester.
Philip was the younger son of the Empress' chief supporter and half-brother, Earl Robert of Gloucester. For several years, Philip commanded on behalf of the Empress until, about 6 years into the civil war, he switched sides and gave over a couple of castles to Stephen. History doesn't tell us why he did that, so Peters gives him a reason, and it's not a bad one.
Spoiler
Philip sees that no one is going to win this war, and the country and people will continue to suffer as battles are fought. Under the circumstances, he believes the only way out is for one side to win, and Stephen had been getting the better of things for a while, so he throws his support to the king. Ulimately, he becomes disillusioned; he realizes that his decision didn't make a difference, and king and Empress are still committed to the other's destruction, not the future of the country.Peter's Philip is a complex character who is too intelligent not to see and acknowledge all the grey between Stephen's black and Maud's white, and he feels deeply--both love and resentment. He struggles to find his purpose, and to reconcile his feelings towards his family. His exchanges with Cadfael are effective and, often, moving. Cadfael's steadfast and unselfish commitment to his son's welfare provokes Philip to poignantly reflect on his relationship with his father.
Cadfael's and Olivier's eventual meeting is also moving. Olivier remains the pure and perfect knight, but this time, contrasted with Philip's more complex personality, his character--while noble and good-hearted--is a bit diminished. There is no question that Cadfael loves his son and delights in him, but Cadfael's and Olivier's conversations throughout the books are never as meaningful or deep as Cadfael's with Philip's. Olivier is the son of Cadfael's loins and heart, but Philip is the son of Cadfael's mind. Not as generous or tolerant of human failings as Cadfael, but as intelligent and able to (at least intellectually) accept human differences, failings, and contradictions.
The other key theme of this final novel is Cadfael's devotion to his abbey. It's not that the earlier mysteries depicted him as impatient or disenchanted with the monastic life, but Cadfael welcomed the chance to break free from the Rule in small doses to interact with the larger world and be active in it. Now, having chosen to go without leave to find Olivier, Cadfael is forced to confront what it means for him to fully break the Rule. Although his resolve doesn't waver, it is clear that the cost is great and, perhaps, greater than Cadfael could bear. The final scene at the abbey church is lovely in its simplicity.
The glaring exception is Peters' depiction of the Empress Maud/Matilda. It is difficult to construct Matilda's character from the historical record; she appears to have been perceived as proud, but that might only have meant that she was more assertive and strong-willed than the average woman. Sexual stereotyping biases are still powerful today, and, in medieval times, when women were not supposed to hold public roles, one can only imagine how brutal the judgments were against women who stood out by seeking political prominence.
Throughout the novels, Peters suggests that Maud is haughty, quick to blame others, and unable to see her own faults. In this final book, Maud is so vicious and vindictive that she is willing to take actions that will alienate many of her followers, all because she has been slighted by someone changing his allegiance. Stephen, on the other hand, is routinely praised in all of the books as genial and chivalrous; his besetting sins are laziness and a lack of follow-through.
But it was Stephen who killed over 90 captives when he took the Shrewsbury garrison (a key historical development that plays a central role in One Corpse Too Many). And it was Stephen who would, on occasion, call nobles and churchman to his court and then imprison them, forcing them to turn over significant lands and money as payment for their freedom. Peters fails to mention these acts in her Cadfael series, instead leading the reader to believe that Stephen was really a nice guy and the kinder, fairer leader.
Authors are entitled to pick sides, of course, but distorting historical personages and the historical record for the sake of an easy villain is weak writing. Particularly when contrasted with the nuanced portrait Peters makes of Philip of Gloucester.
adventurous
mysterious
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
adventurous
challenging
reflective
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
What a perfect, fitting end to a series that has proven a pleasure and a joy. There were a number of truly excellent books in the series, but the author saved the best for last, and wrote a lovely, moving finale for Cadfael.
I've always enjoyed that Brother Cadfael is a settled adult, comfortable with himself and tolerant of others, but one of the elements that really made this book work was the fact that for once, we get to see him in turmoil, and struggling, and unsure of himself and what the future will hold. His anguish and love and care for Olivier added a certain raw emotion that was rather uncommon for the series, and all the more touching for its rarity.
The whole book was also a very well done reflection of the bonds of love and loyalty, and how they shatter and break, and yet sometimes can still be repaired. So many of the plot threads of the book are woven together with this overarching theme, and they each come out in their own disparate ways.
I loved loved loved the passage where Cadfael is struggling with himself and his actions, and concludes "You do what you must do, and pay for it. So in the end all things are simple." The whole section is lovely, but that conclusion in particular really struck me.
I am sad to be done the series, because it has been such a pleasure through a year of reading it, but a really good ending can be hard to come by, and this book wrapped up the series beautifully.
I've always enjoyed that Brother Cadfael is a settled adult, comfortable with himself and tolerant of others, but one of the elements that really made this book work was the fact that for once, we get to see him in turmoil, and struggling, and unsure of himself and what the future will hold. His anguish and love and care for Olivier added a certain raw emotion that was rather uncommon for the series, and all the more touching for its rarity.
The whole book was also a very well done reflection of the bonds of love and loyalty, and how they shatter and break, and yet sometimes can still be repaired. So many of the plot threads of the book are woven together with this overarching theme, and they each come out in their own disparate ways.
I loved loved loved the passage where Cadfael is struggling with himself and his actions, and concludes "You do what you must do, and pay for it. So in the end all things are simple." The whole section is lovely, but that conclusion in particular really struck me.
I am sad to be done the series, because it has been such a pleasure through a year of reading it, but a really good ending can be hard to come by, and this book wrapped up the series beautifully.
My favorite of the Brother Cadfael stories so far. Not a mystery but a meditation on blood ties, the relationship between fathers and son, loyalty, treachery, and obedience.
This chapter if for Cadfael its journey to find his son that he has. From times before his Benedictine monk’s life when he has been in Jerusalem. On the way, he find out about murder and proves innocence of his friend just with the same man who has kept his son captive. Along with preparation on castle walls for medieval siege.
Reread: It is definitely more of a historical, and a story about fathers and sons. The murder mystery is practically an afterthought. I am a little skeptical of the way one of the central conflicts was resolved, but I don't know enough about English history to know that the story isn't just elaborating on something that actually happened. All in all, an enjoyable end to the Cadfael series.
I'll have to reread this again when I've actually read all the ones that came before it. Another of the series that leans more toward historical than mystery (though there is still a mystery, or more than one, depending on how generous we're being with the definition).
I'll have to reread this again when I've actually read all the ones that came before it. Another of the series that leans more toward historical than mystery (though there is still a mystery, or more than one, depending on how generous we're being with the definition).
Masterfully read by Derek Jacobi. It just makes it perfect to hear Jacobi's voice in these stories. This one was a saga of fathers and sons. ANd demonstrates that love binds us inextricably when we're blood.
This is a re-read for me but I have not revisited this story for many years. Holding rather more action than some of the other novels int he series, this one is all about sons and their fathers, and maybe even about brothers, and their fathers. I wept a little at the end, and expected to, because there is no more story now.