Historical fiction – Page 3 – Cristina Sanders' blog

Sewing Moonlight – book review

Sewing Moonlight, by Kyle Mewburn

This is such a beautifully written book. So elegant, with space to breathe between the lines. I had the feeling, when I finally put the book down, of having been read to while I sat with my eyes closed.

It’s the early 1920s when our man in exile, Wilhelm, sails across the world from Germany and up the Clutha River until his progress is stopped dramatically. There are lots of ways to arrive in a town and this bizarre arrival has a strange ring of truth. He decides this is a sign he should give up the travels and put his feet on the ground here, in a place called Falter’s Mill. It’s as good a place as any to build a new life from scratch and find happiness.

Turning History into Fiction

Talking in Ōkiwi Bay

It was a real honour to be invited to speak at the Eastbourne Historical Society’s 2024 AGM, held yesterday. This is a very active society full of researchers, historians and writers whose lives revolve around the eastern bays of Port Nicholson, and yes, I felt a decided frisson in the meeting being held on the edge of what was Ōkiwi Bay, the stomping ground of my man, Ōkiwi Brown, himself. Or their man Ōkiwi Brown, I should say. They were a delightful audience, many bought a copy of my book and I do hope they jump right into the text and start arguing with it. I’ve already had one great lead to follow up – ‘who shot Burke’s wife?’ was a question from the floor I couldn’t answer (love those) but has me buzzing now. I’ve posted a transcript of the talk, here: Turning History into Fiction.

The Ministry of Time – book review

The Ministry of Time, by Kaliane Bradley

Yes, it’s only June, but The Ministry of Time by Kaliane Bradley gets my book of the year so far. It’ll be a hard one to beat. Great premise, excellent characters and the hottest sex I’ve read in years. The chap in question has been dragged out of 1845 into the near future, complete with fabulous side-whiskers, a cheeky dimple, and Victorian social attitudes. Our narrator likes his nose. He had a kind of resplendent excess of feature that made him look hyperreal. She is to be his bridge.

Ōkiwi Brown

Ōkiwi Brown, by Cristina Sanders

*Currently on the Longlist for the Ngaio Awards!*
The Burke and Hare anatomy murders terrified Edinburgh in the 1830s – innocents smothered and packed fresh for the anatomist’s knife. Burke was publicly hanged before a crowd of thousands. William Hare, after turning king’s evidence against his erstwhile partner, was released. Somewhere south of Dumfries near the small river port of Annan, he was set down from a cart and told to walk on to England and never return. There, he disappears from history.

The Girl From London – book review

The Girl From London, by Olivia Spooner

I started this on a Tuesday night and ended up crying in a café on Thursday morning. I can’t remember when I’ve been so moved by the ending of a story. There is a book within the book. When the former ended a bit too neatly I was a slightly disbelieving, until I realised that actually, well, I’m giving no spoilers, but it’s a war story, after all. I’m not usually known for my tears.

The whole story ties in well with my current interest in stories of those who immigrated to New Zealand down the years, and why they came. Children evacuees from London bombings? I had no idea. Can you imagine sending your children out of a bomb zone, and not to the close countryside, which would be wrenching enough, but through a war-infested sea to an unknown land at the far ends of the earth? And yet people did.

Love In The Time of Cholera–book review

Love in the time of cholera, by Gabreil Garcia Marquez

Love in the time of Cholera is different to every other book I read and for that, alone, I am glad to have read it. Set across decades around the turn of the 20th Century, amid the plagues, wars and the environmental catastrophes of Caribbean Columbia, the story is of lives full of lusty passion. The thing is, I originally read this book in 1985 when it first came out and I was young and naive. Times have changed and I have changed and in the post ‘me too’ environment ‘Love in the time of Cholera’ feels like a misnomer. ‘Dysfunctional sexual obsession in the time of Cholera’ is more accurate, though not so catchy a title.

My Friends – book review

My Friends, by Hisham Matar

Any book that offers a description of a face ‘like a landscape liable to bad weather‘ has got my love. This is a writer with poetry in his soul. ‘We shared the city the way honest labourers share tools,’ he says of two young men finding their way around London. He describes a nurse who ‘would gently tuck in my bedsheet like a skilled cook filleting a fish.’ This is classy writing.

The Covenant of Water – book review

The Covenant of Water, by Abraham Verghese

“Fiction is the great lie that tells the truth about how the world lives!” says a character in the The Covenant of Water. That’s an oldie but a goodie and is perhaps is an apt quote for this book. I’ve never been to India. But with Verghese’s story it felt as though I visited every evening, in that witching hour before sleep, when a book takes me somewhere else. Reading Verghese, as I experienced before with his first novel, Cutting for Stone, is an immersive experience.

The Fraud – book review

The Fraud, by Zadie Smith

The Fraud is an ambitious book, not one to take lightly. It encompasses the true story of an identity fraud trial in the 1800s, where a man returning from the colonies supposes to be not an East End butcher, but the lost son of a wealthy family. The family say he isn’t. Others, including a loyal black servant and the masses, believe he is.

Ingenious Pain – book review

Ingenious Pain, by Andrew Miller

This book was recommended by a good reader to me, one with a shared love of historical fiction. It’s by Andrew Miller, who later wrote the fabulous but misnamed Pure about the stink of a cemetery in Paris in 1785, which I thoroughly recommend for a wallow in atmospheric history. Ingenious Pain not so much. There are flashes of writing that evoke time and place brilliantly, like: “Candlemas, 1767. The streets perfumed with coal smoke and frost, the night sky richly hammered with stars.” Perfect. A whole description in fifteen words. But these word-riches are not as frequently distributed as in Pure, and don’t flow as easily. I will still recommend Ingenious Pain, but if you’re only going to read one Miller, make it Pure, for sure.

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