Reflections on the Third Week of Winter – The Western Wind

The flow of a rich narrative voice in The Western Wind by Samantha Harvey drew me in from the first page. But the table of contents, starting with day four and ending with day one, made me reconsider. Did I want to read a backward story? Because Spence had given me the novel for Christmas, I read.

Harvey sets her character-driven mystery in Oakham—a poor, tiny, English village—during February 1491. Time plays a huge role.

First, the plot couldn’t hold together without Middle Age beliefs and religious hierarchy.

Second, the main character, the priest John Reve, reflects on time being circular and reversible. His sister Annie told him he didn’t need a miracle to bring his mother back to life.

. . . here’s how you make her alive. There was a woman, Agnes Reve, who died in a fire; eight years before that she had a daughter, seven years before that she had a son, who became a priest. A year before that she married a laborer with narrow shoulders and no humor; for seventeen years before that she lived peacefully with her own mama and father and sisters . . . and she was born. There . . . she’s once more alive. ( p. 190)

Third, Harvey structures the novel backwards, forwards, and circular. The first sections read morning to night day four. The second section reads morning to night day three. The third day two, and the fourth day one. The ending circles to the beginning.

The very last scene shows John Reve promising to save his parishioner. But the reader knows from the days to follow, which already occurred in the novel, that this is not true. The flawed priest conceals evidence to protect himself. The evidence condemns Oliver Townsend.

Though confusing at first, the structure is essential for the novel. If written chronologically, the story would hold no mystery. The first scene would explain the death. Even more, each scene adds depth to the future the reader already knows thus intensifying character development.

Learning about characters this way makes revelations about the narrator John Reve more powerful. He portrays himself as the link to God for the common man. But John is flawed. He hides the truth. He lets Sarah expose her breasts to him repeatedly. He protects himself at the expense of his parishioners. He pretends to sleep instead of fulfilling Newman’s request for last rites.

John also feels God is testing him so he requests God send miracles to prove God wants John as a priest. The public test—a miracle to convince the dean and town that Newman is on his way through purgatory quickly—John stages himself. The private miracle—a western wind—is answered before the reader knows to wonder.

The first thing I noticed was the wind, which was strong, bitter and easterly. (p.4)

At the beginning, the reader accepts this as scene setting until reading further. Because of the wind, midway through the second section, day three, I suspected John was at the heart of the mystery.

Reading Harvey’s novel drenched me in the soggy ham, the waterlogged fields, the rushing river, the constant rain. Harvey is a master at weaving in the setting and sensual references.

Smells: Cecily Townsend “smelt confusingly of lavender and dung.” (p.107)

Tastes: The cooked goose tasted “. . . oily and sapid [strong pleasant] and rich.”(p.89)

Sounds: “A robin chirruped in the churchyard. Rain tink=tinked at the windows. (pp. 191-192)

Touch: “Only the wind itself was dry, dry and so cold, and blowing away long days of rain.” (p.5)

Sight: “The horsetails tied to the branches were soddenly clumped and the yellow velvet so joyous when it went up in summer, hung heavy and burnet.” (p.281)

But naming characters isn’t Harvey’s strength. Townsend, a dairy farmer and poor business man, is about to be accused wrongly of murdering Newman, the widower, free thinker, and owner of most of the villagers land. These characters are distinctive, but I mixed their names constantly forcing me to reread for clarification. Perhaps the half rhyme and the two syllable rhythm caused the confusion. More likely the first names contributed. 

Oliver Townsend and Thomas Newman.

If I’d connected that Townsend was the long term resident of the village and Newman was the man who moved into the village after his daughter and wife died, my confusion would have cleared.

I’m passing the novel onto Spence with the hopes we will have many discussions while he reads.