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A review by rallythereaders
The Wicked and the Just by J. Anderson Coats
3.0
Also posted on Rally the Readers.
3.5 Stars
The Wicked and the Just has the distinction of being a novel that I rather enjoyed reading despite finding both main characters on the disagreeable side. This doesn’t happen often because my opinion of the protagonist, or in this case, protagonists, usually makes or breaks a book for me. Credit J. Anderson Coats’s powerful storytelling with making me forget that I disliked both Cecily and Gwenhwyfar.
From the beginning of the novel, I knew Cecily and I weren’t going to get along. She’s spoiled, pouty, and always conniving to wangle a present out of her father. This is a girl who complains about her uncle’s return from the Crusades alive; if only he’d died, then Cecily’s father, the younger of the two brothers, would still preside over Edgeley Hall. Once in Caernarvon, she views the Welsh with nothing but disdain, and she goes out of her way to show Gwenhwyfar and her brother, Gruffydd, that she’s their better. Reading about a character who I frequently wanted to scream at did pose a challenge, and if the whole book had been written from Cecily’s point of view, I would have had a very tough time getting through it.
At first I had a neutral opinion of the novel’s other narrator, Gwenhwyfar. She didn’t immediately elicit the strong dislike Cecily did, but I didn’t warm to her as a heroine, either. If anything, I felt sorry for Gwenhwyfar and how terribly harsh her life was, especially when juxtaposed with Cecily’s. The English executed Gwenhwyfar’s father, and now she and her brother work for whatever measly wages they can to support themselves and take care of their sickly mother. I was all right with Gwenhwyfar until, without going into too much detail about the book’s turning point, Cecily found herself in dire circumstances. I know I’ve taken her to task for her selfishness and treatment of those she considers beneath her, but her sudden reversal of fortune quite shocked me. Gwenhwyfar, believing that Cecily has gotten exactly what she deserves, is only too happy to make Cecily feel her losses even more keenly. While I understood where Gwenhwyfar's aversion to showing compassion to a girl who wasn't kind to her came from, I was still disappointed to see Gwenhwyfar, who knew misery only too well, so eager to rub salt in Cecily’s wounds. But then, I think the book’s lack of a clear-cut heroine is one of the reasons why I liked the book in the end. Both characters were flawed and I saw this as a plus, lending this work of historical fiction an added sense of realism.
The Wicked and the Just is short on action until almost the end, when it explodes. The first three-quarters or so of the novel read more like a character study, so the story does take quite some time to unfold. For me, the most fascinating aspect of the book was its portrayal of medieval life and how brutal it could be, a reminder that there was more to the Middle Ages than minstrels and jousting tournaments. It was Caernarvon’s story that captured my interest here, and I highly recommend reading the excellent Historical Note at the end of the book, which provides some background on the real-life events in Caernarvon.
3.5 Stars
The Wicked and the Just has the distinction of being a novel that I rather enjoyed reading despite finding both main characters on the disagreeable side. This doesn’t happen often because my opinion of the protagonist, or in this case, protagonists, usually makes or breaks a book for me. Credit J. Anderson Coats’s powerful storytelling with making me forget that I disliked both Cecily and Gwenhwyfar.
From the beginning of the novel, I knew Cecily and I weren’t going to get along. She’s spoiled, pouty, and always conniving to wangle a present out of her father. This is a girl who complains about her uncle’s return from the Crusades alive; if only he’d died, then Cecily’s father, the younger of the two brothers, would still preside over Edgeley Hall. Once in Caernarvon, she views the Welsh with nothing but disdain, and she goes out of her way to show Gwenhwyfar and her brother, Gruffydd, that she’s their better. Reading about a character who I frequently wanted to scream at did pose a challenge, and if the whole book had been written from Cecily’s point of view, I would have had a very tough time getting through it.
At first I had a neutral opinion of the novel’s other narrator, Gwenhwyfar. She didn’t immediately elicit the strong dislike Cecily did, but I didn’t warm to her as a heroine, either. If anything, I felt sorry for Gwenhwyfar and how terribly harsh her life was, especially when juxtaposed with Cecily’s. The English executed Gwenhwyfar’s father, and now she and her brother work for whatever measly wages they can to support themselves and take care of their sickly mother. I was all right with Gwenhwyfar until, without going into too much detail about the book’s turning point, Cecily found herself in dire circumstances. I know I’ve taken her to task for her selfishness and treatment of those she considers beneath her, but her sudden reversal of fortune quite shocked me. Gwenhwyfar, believing that Cecily has gotten exactly what she deserves, is only too happy to make Cecily feel her losses even more keenly. While I understood where Gwenhwyfar's aversion to showing compassion to a girl who wasn't kind to her came from, I was still disappointed to see Gwenhwyfar, who knew misery only too well, so eager to rub salt in Cecily’s wounds. But then, I think the book’s lack of a clear-cut heroine is one of the reasons why I liked the book in the end. Both characters were flawed and I saw this as a plus, lending this work of historical fiction an added sense of realism.
The Wicked and the Just is short on action until almost the end, when it explodes. The first three-quarters or so of the novel read more like a character study, so the story does take quite some time to unfold. For me, the most fascinating aspect of the book was its portrayal of medieval life and how brutal it could be, a reminder that there was more to the Middle Ages than minstrels and jousting tournaments. It was Caernarvon’s story that captured my interest here, and I highly recommend reading the excellent Historical Note at the end of the book, which provides some background on the real-life events in Caernarvon.