When it comes to books and reading, I am definitely a hunter/gatherer. My sustenance comes from these activities,
but every once in a while, I bag a trophy – the best are first novels by young
writers. The Fever Tree by Jennifer McVeigh is the latest in a long line of
trophies I have collected.
Francis Irvine is the only child of a prosperous business
man in London. His deceased wife was a
member of the wealthy Hamilton family, who disowned her when she married the
Irish Mr. Irvine against their wishes.
Mr. Irvine began a furniture business and did quite well, but he lost
all is money in the Panic of 1873. He
had borrowed and invested in The Northern Pacific Railway which went bankrupt
due to poor management. He died leaving
Francis penniless and without any family, save a cousin in Manchester, who
agreed to take Francis in as a governess to her children. However, there was an alternative.
Dr. Matthews, three years older than Francis, was heading
out to Kimberly in South Africa to begin a medical practice. From an early age, he had a crush on Francis,
so he proposed marriage to her father and he agreed. However, Francis was a city girl, and thought
of moving to Africa did not appeal to her at all. Faced with the squalid life her cousin
offered her, she decided to accept Matthews and move to Kimberley.
After all her father’s property was sold at auction, she had
barely enough money for steamer passage.
She had to give up all her finery, and she set out for a rendezvous with
a fate she bitterly decried. She made
friends with two other immigrants – also poor and penniless. A handsome stranger is also on the ship, and he
charms Francis, who promptly falls deeply in love. She hopes Mr. Westbrook can rescue her from what
she perceives as an awful marriage.
McVeigh has accurately captured the sounds and sights and
characters of the 19th century.
In this passage, Francis has been summoned by her mother’s brother. She hopes her uncle will take her into his
house. McVeigh writes, “Francis caught
sight of herself in the gold-crested mirror over the fireplace. She regretted standing up. Her uncle would take it as a sign of bad
breeding. Beneath the eagle with his
wings unfurling, the dark, convex glass threw a distorted impression back at
her. Sparks of red hair swirled away
from her in dense curls, and the narrow, angular lines of her face warped so
that her mouth twisted with bitterness.
Her Irish blood was too visible for her uncle’s liking, reminding him of
everything her mother had given away, and she wondered whether he would be
happy never to see her again, ‘So—you won’t have me?’” (33).
I have always had a soft spot for red-haired women and 19th
century women writers. Now I have a soft
spot for Francis Irvine. Jennifer McVeigh’s The
Fever Tree is a delightful read, but caution: she departs from traditional
19th century literature in a few explicit scenes of “you know what.”
5 stars
--Chiron, 5/20/13
--Chiron, 5/20/13
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