This book was loaned to me by a friend about six months ago, and it’s been sitting on my bookshelf taunting me while I worked through a stack of library books before their due dates caught up to me. I had no idea what the book was even about or why my friend thought I would like it, but every time I came close to forgetting about it altogether the vivid red cover art would grab my attention and I’d move it further up my “to be read” list.
It turns out, I should trust my friends when they randomly drop books off at my house! The Mercies checks off a lot of boxes for me: eerie and awe-inspiring natural forces, rage-inducing patriarchal nonsense, and an engaging fictionalized take on actual history (weee! So much to look up on Wikipedia to learn more about the real people, places, and events).
The Mercies opens in Vardø, a small island far to the North of Norway, on Christmas Eve in the year 1617. Maren (along with every other woman in her village) stands on the craggy shoreline as a massive, freak storm blows through and drowns every man from the island before they can safely return from the day’s fishing. The story follows Maren and the rest of this community of women as they struggle to survive this staggering loss and scrape together a living in the brutal Northern climate. Survival becomes even more difficult when a new official, Absalom Cornet, arrives from Scotland with a commission to root out witchcraft. Absalom is accompanied by Ursa, his hastily-acquired Norwegian wife by arranged marriage, who becomes another central character in the story. Maren and Ursa bond quickly and deeply, and neither of them fully understand the power of their attraction to each other – but even as their budding relationship brings joy and warmth to their often-bleak lives, it could also paint a target on their backs as accusations of witchcraft begin to fly.
I loved the vivid descriptions of the era and place in this book, which really drove home how dependent the women of Vardø are on the natural world for survival. I was fascinated by descriptions of how the women found empowerment by starting to take on traditionally “male” jobs in the community, such as going on fishing voyages and tending livestock – for a second there, a real feminist utopia starts to emerge! I found Hargrave’s descriptions of grief, and the different ways each individual woman reacts to her loss, extremely effective. Likewise, the characterizations of Absalom and the other witch-hunting men were deeply effective, to the point that I almost rage-tossed the book out my window multiple times over the course of the book. My only real complaint with the book, actually, is that it ended too soon. Hargrave does an excellent job building an atmosphere of suspense, and once the metaphorical levee breaks and the witch trials come to the forefront of the action, the plot wraps up almost too quickly for my taste. Overall though, The Mercies was an extremely enjoyable read that I’d recommend to anyone with an interest in historical fiction, raging against the patriarchy, and standing on rocky cliffs while gazing longingly across a cold and choppy sea.
