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4.06 AVERAGE
4.06 AVERAGE
Good god, this was a perfectly gut-wrenching read. I just wrote out a bunch of nonsensical, glowing paragraphs and then deleted them because; nonsensical. But this is one of those novels that is a fucking experience. So much emotional verisimilitude, three-dimensional characters, extensive research, social justice-conscious but steering clear of condescendingly saccharine stereotypes. I'm from Virginia and the gorgeous, gorgeous scenery and setting depictions struck me as deeply true. This is the kind of work I'm always hoping for in historical fiction and so rarely get.
(Aaargh I still need to write my reviews of this author's [b:The She-King: The Complete Saga|21480168|The She-King The Complete Saga|L.M. Ironside|https://d.gr-assets.com/books/1395080697s/21480168.jpg|40802899])
(Aaargh I still need to write my reviews of this author's [b:The She-King: The Complete Saga|21480168|The She-King The Complete Saga|L.M. Ironside|https://d.gr-assets.com/books/1395080697s/21480168.jpg|40802899])
When I was child, my favourite Disney film of all time was Pocahontas. Naturally, I poked about with the few resources I had access to and knew that Disney had Got It Wrong on many levels. But I still loved that film like crazy and, though I was never tempted to do more thorough research as I got older and the Internet became a thing, I still found myself quietly fascinated in the story of Pocahontas.
Nearly ten years after Disney released Pocahontas, Libbie Hawker has written and published Tidewater, a novel that explores the Jamestown colony and British settlement in the land that is now better known as Virginia through the eyes of not only John Smith and Pocahontas, but Opechancanough, the embittered and war-hungry brother of Powhatan.
Tidewater offers an altogether more accurate take on events. Not that it isn't easy, really, when one considers the liberties Disney took with the storyline. Additionally, Hawker's attempts to capture the culture of the Real People (the native Americans ruled by Powhatan) and her integration of the "Powhatan language" into her story add to a greater feeling of authenticity.
Readers of Hawker's earlier historical fiction novels, written under the pseudonym L. M. Ironside, will recognise this feeling of authenticity and "realness" as one of her strengths as an author. Whether it is the tidewater of Virginia, the alien England or Smith's memories of Constantinople, each location is captured beautifully, adding weighty atmosphere to the story Hawker weaves.
One might also recognise Ironside's strengths with the depth of characterisation found in her characters. No one is too idealised, whether it is the selfish and ambitious Pocahontas, the outcast and pragmatic Smith or the war-mongering and harsh Opechancanough. I will admit to disliking Pocahontas at times because she could be so selfish, treating others horribly and believing that they'd continue to treat her kindly. That said, the arc Hawker gave to Pochontas did much to redeem her in the end.
Though a historical fiction novel, Tidewater sometimes reads as a horror story or a tragedy. It is a very bleak, very dark story, as the history demands it to be. It is a story about the struggle for survival, the brutality and inevitability of colonisation, of the sacrifices people make in the vain hope of peaceful co-existence and the futility of resistance to the British Empire.
I am not American and know little of that country's history, but I believe America and Australia are not too dissimilar when it comes to our appalling treatment of our indigenous peoples, both in the past and now in the present. I was grateful that Hawker did not shy away from presenting the brutality of colonisation and white settlement, but did not fall into the trap of making the Real People into a bunch of noble savages – Powhatan, Opechancanough, Pocahontas and all of the Real People came across as very real, flawed people who were ultimately very human.
It's hard to know how to sum up this book. It's an incredible, difficult read and one that will stay with me for a long time. I would highly recommend it.
Nearly ten years after Disney released Pocahontas, Libbie Hawker has written and published Tidewater, a novel that explores the Jamestown colony and British settlement in the land that is now better known as Virginia through the eyes of not only John Smith and Pocahontas, but Opechancanough, the embittered and war-hungry brother of Powhatan.
Tidewater offers an altogether more accurate take on events. Not that it isn't easy, really, when one considers the liberties Disney took with the storyline. Additionally, Hawker's attempts to capture the culture of the Real People (the native Americans ruled by Powhatan) and her integration of the "Powhatan language" into her story add to a greater feeling of authenticity.
Readers of Hawker's earlier historical fiction novels, written under the pseudonym L. M. Ironside, will recognise this feeling of authenticity and "realness" as one of her strengths as an author. Whether it is the tidewater of Virginia, the alien England or Smith's memories of Constantinople, each location is captured beautifully, adding weighty atmosphere to the story Hawker weaves.
One might also recognise Ironside's strengths with the depth of characterisation found in her characters. No one is too idealised, whether it is the selfish and ambitious Pocahontas, the outcast and pragmatic Smith or the war-mongering and harsh Opechancanough. I will admit to disliking Pocahontas at times because she could be so selfish, treating others horribly and believing that they'd continue to treat her kindly. That said, the arc Hawker gave to Pochontas did much to redeem her in the end.
Though a historical fiction novel, Tidewater sometimes reads as a horror story or a tragedy. It is a very bleak, very dark story, as the history demands it to be. It is a story about the struggle for survival, the brutality and inevitability of colonisation, of the sacrifices people make in the vain hope of peaceful co-existence and the futility of resistance to the British Empire.
I am not American and know little of that country's history, but I believe America and Australia are not too dissimilar when it comes to our appalling treatment of our indigenous peoples, both in the past and now in the present. I was grateful that Hawker did not shy away from presenting the brutality of colonisation and white settlement, but did not fall into the trap of making the Real People into a bunch of noble savages – Powhatan, Opechancanough, Pocahontas and all of the Real People came across as very real, flawed people who were ultimately very human.
It's hard to know how to sum up this book. It's an incredible, difficult read and one that will stay with me for a long time. I would highly recommend it.
fast-paced
3.5 stars. Tidewater was good but long. I could have done without the perspectives of John Smith and Opechancanough and rather just focused on Pocahontas. An emotional retelling of Powhatan’s Real People and the threat the Englishman brought to their shores. It left me feeling sad but I appreciate the historical accuracy. A story like the Disney version would not have been truthful.
A straightforward, easy-to-fall-into novelization of what MIGHT have happened in the early 1600s, in the lives of Pocahontas and John Smith.
Picture, if you will, a swampy bog near Washington DC. The year is 1600mumble mumble. The English - rancidly smelly in their rancid ass wool - have just disembarked in the shittiest part of what-is-to-become-Virginia and are seeking (1) GOLD, (2) A PASSAGE TO INDIA, and (3) GOLD? Meanwhile, you, dear reader, are a feisty, ambitious prepubescent hellion named Amonute - you do NOT smell like rancid ass wool, but are instead super cool and interesting and fun, running around your pretty damn idyllic Tidewater/Tsenacomoco/world.
This book is a vivid portrayal of what life may have been like. I keep emphasizing the "might" and "may" because I actually felt a little uneasy about Libbie Hawker (sorry, Libbie Hawker) cuz I was like, wait, are you Native American? wait, are you a historian? wait, ahem, what gives you the right? But, after doing some extremely minimal googling, I was satisfied that this was, if anything, well-intentioned, reasonably well-informed (?), and, above all, REASONABLE. Like, obviously we don't have access to Pocahontas's inner life, and John Smith's diaries are all apparently like "and they were just jealous and I was awesome again and everyone clapped", but we do know the commonly-agreed on facts: Pocahontas's 3 names (Amonute, Mataoka, Rebecca), her conversion to Christianity and her visit to England. And just the popularity of her myth is telling; something about her left a deep impression on the English.
I found the story itself very beautiful and sad. I was reminded, just like after reading Charles Mann's 1491 and Kim Stanley Robinson's The Years of Rice and Salt, of what an enormous, unforgivable loss the Columbian exchange was: an entire hemisphere of culture that was almost entirely wiped out. I just wanted to learn more about Tsenacomoco, and Pocahontas's realization and pain when she visited London - and what a dystopian nightmare that felt like!! - was so, so acute. I really felt for her. And I wish we (the white/Euro settlers of the New World) could have better integrated into this indigenous world.
In fact. An aside on colonialism. After finishing this book and crying for a bit, I then asked ChatGPT about the differences between the colonization of the New World vs. the Indian subcontinent. Like, today, indigenous Americans live on reservations, a tiny fraction of their previous populations, their culture very very marginalized. Meanwhile, South Asian culture is thriving and has, indeed, deeply influenced the UK (wonderful British-Asian literature, food, etc). WHY? ChatGPT gave me garbage vanilla answers. I thought if it was maybe Acemoglu and Robinson's institutionalist theories: that is, extractive colonies vs. inclusive colonies. But the latter - inclusive colonies - basically meant, "we'll (Euros) come and build and stay". Which may have led to, indeed, better GDP outcomes for these eventual colony-countries than the extractive colony-countries, but at tremendous cost - the near-extinction of indigenous societies? e.g. USA, Canada, Australia, etc...
Anyway, as you can see, this got me thinking. The book itself is much more human-sized and it's very touching and, tbh, I loved all the characters and really felt for them. Pocahontas was one of those people who stood at the intersection of history and really, frickin, just SAW IT ALL. What an amazing life.
Picture, if you will, a swampy bog near Washington DC. The year is 1600mumble mumble. The English - rancidly smelly in their rancid ass wool - have just disembarked in the shittiest part of what-is-to-become-Virginia and are seeking (1) GOLD, (2) A PASSAGE TO INDIA, and (3) GOLD? Meanwhile, you, dear reader, are a feisty, ambitious prepubescent hellion named Amonute - you do NOT smell like rancid ass wool, but are instead super cool and interesting and fun, running around your pretty damn idyllic Tidewater/Tsenacomoco/world.
This book is a vivid portrayal of what life may have been like. I keep emphasizing the "might" and "may" because I actually felt a little uneasy about Libbie Hawker (sorry, Libbie Hawker) cuz I was like, wait, are you Native American? wait, are you a historian? wait, ahem, what gives you the right? But, after doing some extremely minimal googling, I was satisfied that this was, if anything, well-intentioned, reasonably well-informed (?), and, above all, REASONABLE. Like, obviously we don't have access to Pocahontas's inner life, and John Smith's diaries are all apparently like "and they were just jealous and I was awesome again and everyone clapped", but we do know the commonly-agreed on facts: Pocahontas's 3 names (Amonute, Mataoka, Rebecca), her conversion to Christianity and her visit to England. And just the popularity of her myth is telling; something about her left a deep impression on the English.
I found the story itself very beautiful and sad. I was reminded, just like after reading Charles Mann's 1491 and Kim Stanley Robinson's The Years of Rice and Salt, of what an enormous, unforgivable loss the Columbian exchange was: an entire hemisphere of culture that was almost entirely wiped out. I just wanted to learn more about Tsenacomoco, and Pocahontas's realization and pain when she visited London - and what a dystopian nightmare that felt like!! - was so, so acute. I really felt for her. And I wish we (the white/Euro settlers of the New World) could have better integrated into this indigenous world.
In fact. An aside on colonialism. After finishing this book and crying for a bit, I then asked ChatGPT about the differences between the colonization of the New World vs. the Indian subcontinent. Like, today, indigenous Americans live on reservations, a tiny fraction of their previous populations, their culture very very marginalized. Meanwhile, South Asian culture is thriving and has, indeed, deeply influenced the UK (wonderful British-Asian literature, food, etc). WHY? ChatGPT gave me garbage vanilla answers. I thought if it was maybe Acemoglu and Robinson's institutionalist theories: that is, extractive colonies vs. inclusive colonies. But the latter - inclusive colonies - basically meant, "we'll (Euros) come and build and stay". Which may have led to, indeed, better GDP outcomes for these eventual colony-countries than the extractive colony-countries, but at tremendous cost - the near-extinction of indigenous societies? e.g. USA, Canada, Australia, etc...
Anyway, as you can see, this got me thinking. The book itself is much more human-sized and it's very touching and, tbh, I loved all the characters and really felt for them. Pocahontas was one of those people who stood at the intersection of history and really, frickin, just SAW IT ALL. What an amazing life.
adventurous
emotional
informative
reflective
sad
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
Complicated
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
Fascinating, historically-informed portrait of Pocahontas and the interactions between Native Americans and English settlers. Does not glorify or demonize either side.
adventurous
emotional
informative
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
I enjoyed the way the author wove fact and fiction together to tell the story of Pocahontas. The way she represented both the native people and the Englishman made the story work by allowing the reader to have empathy for both cultures. I do agree that the story may have been a little longer than was enjoyable. Towards the end, it began to feel a little tedious. However, the final chapters were a nice finish to the story.
WOW. A truly sobering story. If I could give it more than 5 stars, I would.
At first I wasn’t convinced I would stay interested enough to finish this huge book. But by the end of the first Amonute chapter, I was hooked. As the story continued I became more and more entwined.
I usually enjoy historical fiction. Only when it is too romanticized do I tend to dislike it. The author did a wonderful job with writing a novel that had the perfect balance between a devastating reality and an entertaining fiction.
The book was entertaining and thought provoking. It hurt my heart to know each character, relationship, location, custom, or event was based in the very real life of another. It also confused my brain to learn how twisted my childhood understanding of Pocahontas and her impact was.
I also appreciated the historical note as the perfect way to end the book. My only disappointment is that the author never wrote a book continuing Opechancanough’s story as she had planned.
At first I wasn’t convinced I would stay interested enough to finish this huge book. But by the end of the first Amonute chapter, I was hooked. As the story continued I became more and more entwined.
I usually enjoy historical fiction. Only when it is too romanticized do I tend to dislike it. The author did a wonderful job with writing a novel that had the perfect balance between a devastating reality and an entertaining fiction.
The book was entertaining and thought provoking. It hurt my heart to know each character, relationship, location, custom, or event was based in the very real life of another. It also confused my brain to learn how twisted my childhood understanding of Pocahontas and her impact was.
I also appreciated the historical note as the perfect way to end the book. My only disappointment is that the author never wrote a book continuing Opechancanough’s story as she had planned.
There was no clear story here, no moral message, not even a single character whose tale she could follow. It was nothing more than a parade of riches, crude in its ostentation.
I was lured into purchasing this book because it is cheap on Amazon, the cover is beautiful, and the idea of a novel about Pocahontas intrigued me. Two out of three marks is bad when the substance of a thing is lacking.
This isn't a book about Pocahontas. This is a book about the Jamestown colony. In itself, that's not a reason to bypass the book, but the reason I bought it was that Pocahontas was blatantly advertised. I would not have cared to read about John Smith and company.
For much of the book -- 60%, roughly, according to my kindle -- Pocahontas is treated as a secondary character. There was some lip service paid to Pocahontas having dreams and ambitions of becoming a female sub-chief (like a governor), but the character's agency is determined by the men around her. She lives to serve the goals of men: from Powhatan to Opechancanough to John Smith to Thomas (her son). If that is the story Hawker wanted to tell, that is fine, but I object to touting Pocahontas as a seventeenth century feminist when she was a puppet of the men around her. In Hawker's portrayal, Pocahontas was no different from the other women around her, American or English.
The plot of the story is repetitive. The English arrive on American soil. Their stores are inadequate. They attempt trade. The Americans want the guns. The English won't give them guns. The Americans attack. The English attack. A supply ship arrives. Their stores are inadequate. The English attempt trade. The Americans want guns. The English won't give them guns. The Americans attack. The English attack. A supply ship arrives. Their stores are inadequate. The English attempt trade....
Do you get the idea?
If the historical record is repetitive, I present to you the fact that Hawker is not a historian, and I don't think that she would argue that she is. She is a writer of fiction. A talented author of fiction -- even a talented historian -- is able to make a repetitive historical record seem to be fresh when similar events happen time and again. ([a:Helen Castor|103979|Helen Castor|https://d.gr-assets.com/authors/1400243398p2/103979.jpg] handles this beautifully in [b:Blood & Roses: the Paston Family and the Wars of the Roses|1063816|Blood & Roses the Paston Family and the Wars of the Roses|Helen Castor|https://d.gr-assets.com/books/1348574898s/1063816.jpg|1050457].) Hawker tells the same series of events by rote with little to no variation for 500 pages.
Hawker loves her similes. She does this in an attempt to describe feelings and objects. Rather than use the wealth of adjectives and adverbs that the English language offers, she compares one thing to another ad nauseam. I decided to highlight every simile in one chapter:
There are ten similes in a seventeen-page chapter. (For the sake of brevity, I didn't include the metaphors.) It's clear that similes are Hawker's preferred descriptors, but, to use language that Hawker would appreciate, reading all the "like"s is like listening to a gaggle of middle schoolers talk about meeting Harry Styles.
1. It cling to Pocahontas like a shroud. (p. 475)
2. Patches of thin grass reached like an old, worn buckskin fringe between the cracks of paving stones. (p. 476)
3. It smelled wan and thin as an overused cloth. (same paragraph, p. 476)
4. A small dog with a coat like moth-eaten wool trotted down the lane... (p. 477)
5. ... a blushing, quiet girl named Abigail with hair as fine and pale as corn silk. (p. 479)
6. ... the secret of the tassantassas clutched in her hand like a shining fish in an osprey's talons. (p. 484)
7. ... she could not help feeling the weight of London pressing all around her like a bodice laced far too tight. (p. 488)
8. But it smelled like certainty -- like a future. (p. 489)
9. It was as if the majesty he carried in the temples of Tsenacomoco had been wretched from him like an arrowhead ripped from wounded flesh. (p. 492)
10. In the stark light of London, the powerful young priest looked as broken as an old pot discarded by the river. (same paragraph, p. 492)
I am probably wrong about this, but Hawker writes as though she has not seen the Virginia coast or London with her own eyes. To be sure, I have not been to the sixteenth century myself (it's on my list for when the Timelord in a blue box arrives), but her writing has a certain vagueness, a detached, everyday quality, that made me feel that she was describing something secondhand. I think, even if she were to have visited a replica of the settlements, her writing would have possessed more of a surety. To me, I read the book as though Hawker described a photograph she had seen once, not a place she had actually been.
(I don't mean to seem mean-spirited. I'm not criticizing a woman's lack of traveling in the same way I criticized her dependency on similes. It is just a vibe that I had while reading. To be sure, I have not been to Virginia myself to even know. Maybe if I had visited Virginia and Jamestown, my mind would have enhanced her metaphors with my memory. Descriptions of London were generic.)
I refuse to read an author's note that begins, "I wrote Tidewater in record time . . . . How can it be that I could write a novel of this scope with relative ease . . .?" It screams of arrogance. "Oh, haha, George R. R. Martin needs years to write a book? What an amateur."
If this book trimmed the repetitiveness and similes, I'm sure it would be about 200 pages. If that.