Winchelsea
Set in 1742 on the south coast of England, Winchelsea is a tale of smugglers and skullduggery on the high seas. But make no mistake, this is not Disney’s Pirates of the Caribbean. The closest it comes to ‘cosy’ is its description of the Mermaid Inn in Rye: “never had I seen so many scars, skin prints, eye-patches and eardrops.” (The Mermaid Inn actually exists, and is full of character to this day.)
The story takes a much darker turn when young Goody Brown’s father is murdered and her mother is brutally mutilated. Swopping her skirts for breeches and her embroidery for a musket, Goody joins a smuggling gang and sets out in search of bloody revenge.
The majority of the novel is written in the first person from Goody’s perspective, and it drips with atmosphere: Old Wynchelsea [sic] is ‘whelmed’ by the sea. Goody runs through the ‘quaggy’ marshes, and a gentleman’s periwig sits ‘like a great cauliflower on his head’.
Three quarters of the way through the book, however, the story-teller changes to a far less interesting protagonist. For me, this seemed an unnecessary distraction, adding little to Goody’s character or motivations. Putting that quibble aside, Winchelsea is a dark and unsettling delight, and I would highly recommend it.
