The Mermaid and Mrs Hancock has gorgeous writing, it really does and we're convinced, had we had the time, we would have devoured this novel, but everytime we go to pick it up whether it be this digital copy that we were graciously provided with or the physical copy that we bought ourselves, life gets in the way. So, this review isn't really a review of the full book, but more of a we can't wait to find time to dive into the glittering world provided on its pages in the future type of review.

This book started off well. The descriptive language was beautiful and the scene setting narrative really brought the book to life. The characters were very 3 dimensional and the story was interesting and well set up. Unfortunately as I read on I felt the story never really got anywhere. I felt it was a beautifully written book, but I was a little bit disappointed. I’m not even sure by what, or what I was expecting. I know people absolutely love this book, it just wasn’t for me, but that’s not to say it wasn’t a beautiful read

A beautiful debut about a lonely merchants quest to find a mermaid and woo a prostitue. Initially i found this difficult to get into, but a few chapters in I was hooked

I read the first 70 pages early in April, set it aside for a while, skimmed another 60 or so pages late on in the month, and decided to give up. Gowar has a very accomplished and knowing narrative voice, and the historical setting is totally convincing. But I didn’t get drawn into the story. A merchant unwittingly acquires a hideous fish-like creature and decides to make as much money from displaying it as he can. Meanwhile, a high-class madam decides she needs a new gentleman protector for one of her best whores, Angelica (this strand reminded me of The Crimson Petal and the White). Given the title, I think I know what we can expect. The scenes set in the brothel particularly bored me, and the thought of another 350+ pages appalled me. Once you’ve stopped enjoying a book, even if it is on a bunch of prize lists (e.g. the Women’s Prize shortlist and the Desmond Elliott Prize longlist), you know it’s time to put it down. Perhaps I’ll try it again another time.

Reading this novel was an absolutely immersive experience of the late eighteenth century world with an eclectic cast of characters from sex workers to mermaids. The writing was rich in the highest sense of the word. Gowar's writing far exceeded my expectations from a debut novel writer and established her as an author I'd definitely want to go back to for more. More importantly, she imbued the feel of the late eighteenth century period in her writing flawlessly which made the reading experience effortless. I feel a lot of people shy away from historical fiction/literary fiction novels because they think that they'd have to put in that extra effort to fully enjoy the work but for this book I can say with surety that no one requires that effort, for me it read with the ease of reading a YA novel and that says something.

The plot for me was pretty straight-forward yet not predictable. I knew and guessed mostly correct what was going to happen yet the way the author took to reach that end goal made the reading experience fun for me. Simultaneously though, Gowar's long road to reach her goal was also my problem. The novel is a good chunk and divided aptly into three volumes, out of which the first one kept me on the edge of my seat because of all the mermaid action, the third was gothic and added depth to the novel. However, the second, although pulled the book together wasn't really my cup of tea. The focus on Angelica and Mrs. Chappell did give an understanding to their respective characters, at the same time they left loose ends and at points left me utterly disinterested in continuing the novel. The sheer want of knowing what happens in the end made me power through. Moreover, the story of some characters like Polly which was put into focus in the second volume, I felt was kind of left unattended. As an other amazing reviewer put it perfectly, "I question whether the three volumes really hold together, and if the almost Gothic air of the third belongs with the brilliant action of the first or the social exposé of the second. Hence my four-star rating."

I loved all the fierce female characters from Mrs. Lippard, Sukie, Angelica to Mrs. Chappell and Mrs. Fortescue and the fact that the author didn't fall in the pit of depicting how every woman just wanted a suitor to tend to her needs in the eighteenth century whilst acknowledging that that was what was expected of good women then. It was also a fresh reading experience in the sense that instead of upper class/upper-middle class characters which is the route mostly eighteenth century based novels tend to take, the novel centered on working/middle class characters such as Mr. Hancock's, who however rich he grew, was rooted into his humble background.

Overall, this book is worth all the hype and I'm glad that it made the women's prize shortlist, well-deserved!

Well researched and richly descriptive first book. A sense of pathos running throughout right from the start when we hear of Mr Hancock's situation. It's hard to say more without spoiling the magic of the mermaid for future readers...

This novel follows a man who searches for a mermaid to woo a prostitute. That's about the gist of it. The writing is lovely and very reminiscent of the era, the characters are vivid and the quest for the mermaid becomes engaging. It took me a while to really get into the story at first as there are a few narratives intertwined. But by about half the book, I was really engaged and wanted to know where it was going. This novel reminded me a lot of The Miniaturist (in style), so I expected the ending to be a lot more haunting or sad, but I was pleased.

This is a touching, charming book about a lonely merchant, Jonah Hancock, who receives a mermaid from one of his captains in exchange for selling one of his ships. After captivating most of London society with this creature, Jonah meets courtesan Anjeclia Neal, after her notorious madame, Mrs. Chappell, commandeers the mermaid for a week to show in her house. As predicted, Jonah falls for Anjelica, but what follows isn’t your usual romance. This is a very atmospheric novel, with some magic realism, along with a few darker moments. Gowar captures the late 18th Century in all its rich detail.

I've struggled to review "The Mermaid and Mrs Hancock." There's no question on the quality and evocative nature of the novel, it's a beautifully written book, transporting you right to 18th century England. This is the story of Jonah Hancock, a merchant, who stumbles into possessing a mermaid of all things, and the consequences of owning this "curiosity" in a time where the lines between normality and depravity were blurred. My struggle with the novel comes towards the end, and the speed at which it all unravels... you commit to a long and well-constructed build-up, hoping to an ending of stronger consequence, and then you're left wondering what it could've been. Whilst the final act is not perhaps as good as the first, it's still a lovely read, evocative and haunting, and worth a go. 4 out of 5.

DNF.
Now I want to contrast and compare briefly [the latest Jean-François Parot's mystery] with another novel that is set on the other side of the Channel during the very same period: The Mermaid and Mrs. Hancock, by Imogen Hermes Gowar. I got it as an ARC through Netgalley, but I’m totally stalling at 10%. The book is just as rich with research and period details as Parot’s, but the pace is so slow that I’m going to take a break (a long one, possibly forever?). I was first charmed by the beautiful cover art and then I thought that I would learn a lot about people living and breathing at the same time of Commissaire Nicolas Le Floch but not having the same concerns. So far I have met Mr. Hancock and also the high-class prostitute Angelica Neale and it made me think of characters with similar ambitions and prospects on the Paris scene of the 1780s. Both writers adopt a very different point of view. Gowar switches points of view between different characters but remains at their level, while Parot remains firmly behind Le Floch’s back but give us an occasional head up on what it means nationally, politically or socially, or even at international level. I am a bit disappointed because The Mermaid… is gorgeous in writing and seemed right up my alley, but I couldn’t bring myself to care about any of the characters so far.

A strange, ethereal story, very reminiscent of Patrick Suskind’s “Perfume”. Set in 18th Century London, Jonah Hancock is a widower and ship owner, whose ship trades and transports goods around the world. Angelica Neal is a high class prostitute under the tutelage of brothel madame Mrs. Chappell, catering for the rich and political class of the day.

When Mr. Hancock’s ship’s captain returns from a voyage sans ship but with a strange, wizened creature, a mermaid, Hancock has to recoup his loss by exhibiting the peculiarity, which he soon does as a result of the public’s craving for a glimpse of the strange and unusual. Through this Mr. Hancock meets Angelica and is smitten. She tells him she will only be interested if he finds her another mermaid and he sets out to do just that.

After a long, long time, when it is thought that the ship must be lost, Mr. Hancock’s captain returns with another mermaid, or at least a strange elusive sea nymph contained in a large vessel of water. He, and his crew are broken men, afflicted by a despair and loneliness that can only be attributed to the ethereal sea creature. Mr. Hancock hides the creature but its influence then begins to affect him and Angelica, as well as many around them, until Angelica discovers the cause and sets about doing something to halt the curse of the mermaid.

I think it is one of those books that will stay with me for a long time. Like “Perfume” perhaps it was more affecting than enjoyable. I was expecting a fairly lighthearted read from the blurb and the book’s title, but it was a very well researched historical piece and really quite dark, different and haunting

I did feel the story meandered too much, with several different storylines running at the same time. I sometimes got a bit lost and irritated by the dialogue and confused by the characters initially. I definitely found it difficult to get into and had to persevere with reading it, although I am glad that I did.

This is an absolutely stunning debut, which deserves to be read by as many people as possible. The novel is set in 18th century London, viewed from an earthier end of society. The story follows several characters, mainly Angelica, a highly sought after courtesan; Mr. Hancock, a merchant who is brought the discovery of a mermaid; and a mermaid, a creature that touches the lives of everyone it comes into contact with. It looks at the treatment of and expectations placed on women, on class, at the magic in the world. Even knowing the rough points of what the novel was about it was so unexpected. It’s beautifully written, there’s not a point in the novel where I didn’t feel immersed in the story, I found I read through this much more slowly than I usually read a novel, but that was by no means a bad thing, it was so decadently written, the pacing felt languid, comfortable. Would highly recommend.

“One September evening in 1785, the merchant Jonah Hancock hears urgent knocking on his front door. One of his captains is waiting eagerly on the step. He has sold Jonah’s ship for what appears to be a mermaid.”

The blurb of this book really doesn’t give much away… so let me correct that for you (without spoilers of course!)

When widowed merchant Jonah Hancock takes possession of a mermaid he suddenly finds himself thrust into the world of high society pleasure seekers. He becomes obsessed with an innocent looking girl at the famous Mrs Chappell’s house, but Angelica is in love with another and won’t even look at him unless he finds her a mermaid too.

We follow Angelica and Jonah through their highs and lows as they get closer and drift apart again as they discover the true meaning of love, forget it and try to remember it again, whilst trying to find a permanent place within the privilege and pomp of London society.

I waited an age to read this book and then I almost gave up halfway through. For me, believable characters are key and there was something not hanging together for me in Angelica’s character – I couldn’t quite believe her. But I decided to give it another 30 pages and suddenly there was a piece of information that made Angelica click with me. Then her character began to grow and the twist began which made for absorbing reading.

I’m glad I persevered, the second half of the book was masterful, but if Angelica’s character had been revealed a little earlier I would have loved the whole thing.

I enjoyed this so much that I savoured it by reading tiny morsels over the course of two weeks. Masterful, engaging and evocative, the period detail is superb, and Imogen Hermes Gowar has peopled her world with fantastic characters. The language is deliciously descriptive. This historical novel is an absolute gem and I loved it.

I once passed through the most decadent and beguiling vintage shop in a cute little town somewhere. The mannequins were perfectly and precisely accessorised, and baskets spilled over with such beautifully textured fabrics it didn’t matter what they were for. And the smell. Just breathing there for two minutes left you enriched.

If I bought something, I never would have worn it. It was a place to stand in, dip your toe, soak up the luxury, and dream a little of an alternative life.

Reading The Mermaid and Mrs Hancock is a bit like visiting that shop. It, too, is classy and fascinating, stuffed with exquisite textures and perfectly placed details. The setting is so vivid you could almost sneeze with all the hair powder in the air. Each historical detail is so real it brings Georgian London to life completely.

When we first meet a main character, “She sits at her dressing table as cool and fragrant as a rosewater custard, picking at a bowl of hothouse fruit while her friend...tweaks the last scorched curl-paper from her hair. She has been laced back into her stays and half draped in a powdering robe…”

The book follows widowed merchant Jonah Hancock, who is horrified when his ship’s Captain shows up at his house, having sold his ship and cargo to buy what appears to be the grotesque and clawed body of an infant mermaid. As all of London descends to see it, the sensible Hancock crosses paths with a famous courtesan, Angelica Neal, and becomes smitten.

The concept is brilliant: imaginative and quirky yet so easy to step into believing it all. My history is shaky, but I think at around this time ships’ Captains were coming back from unknown lands with all sorts of unimaginable creatures stashed in the hull, to be stuffed and displayed in the British Museum. As one character says to a cynical scientist: “It strikes me as contrary that you will accept the existence of a kongouro, which you never saw or heard of before on such slim testimony, and yet how many tales have you heard of mermaids, and how many sailors report seeing them?”

And it is because you are so grounded in the historical details that the more magical elements can slip right in. Because the nature of the book does shift slightly in the second half, as the focus moves from textures of the world to textures of the mind.

In the first half we follow Angelica and Mr Hancock separately, and when their story threads come together it is immensely well done and satisfying. There was a point in the middle of the book where I was almost standing from my seat to cheer Angelica on. All it took was for her to say: “Stop now and listen to me.”

Then it all takes a rather subdued turn. If the first section comes to a happy ending of sorts, the second sees that happy ending dangled over the abyss while the author threatens to cut the rope. As a natural consequence of where the story leads, the characters all just feel a bit down and the author seems to try and up the excitement by making people run down stairs precariously, as though she’s threatening to kill them off every time the doorbell goes. As a reader, I felt I was being toyed with a little.

But if that element rankled slightly, it was more than compensated for by some wonderful and lightly-wielded reflections on topics such as class, morality and feminism. Mr Hancock considers how self-serving his puritanical outrage is, despite being raised to treasure it: “For shame, he thinks, we live on a different scale of morality. And which is the correct one? He regrets his solid provincial decency; he is sorry that the memory of the priapic sailors brings such a wave of horror to his soul; for those people are so much happier than he is.”

And a female character has a moment of pause, on marrying, that many modern women will relate to: “She will never be simply her own self in the world again; a personality all her own … She is ‘wife of’ and ‘aunt of’; later she will be ‘mother of’ … These claims upon her will only multiply -- she will be mother-in-law, grandmother, widow, dependant -- and accordingly her own person will be divided and divided and divided, until there is nothing left.”

In the end, these rich observations help build some wonderfully complex characters. And it is they, not the trivial threats, that pull you gasping to the end. And the conclusion is every bit as satisfying as I would have hoped.

This is an historical romance with a rather confusing title, as I thought it would be a fantasy novel but is instead an atmospheric account of life in the period of merchants and courtesans. The story is character driven and beautifully written into a tale that is slow but wraps you up into a different world.

Jonah Hancock has lived a merchant’s life. From his wedge-shaped counting-house in Deptford he sends vessels to the Far East that return with valuable commodities. He continues in the tradition of bringing fortunes from the investments his father and his grandfather built. He knows no other way. In autumn 1785, one thing makes him anxious: for eighteen months there has been no news of The Calliope. Nor does he receive any communications from the ship’s captain. Until on a stormy night Captain Jones knocks on his door bringing in the most peculiar creature the merchant has ever seen.

Somewhere a tide is turning. In that place where no land can be seen, where horizon to horizon is spanned by shifting twinkling faithless water, a wave humps its back and turns over with a sigh, and sends its salted whispering to Mr Hancock’s ear.

This voyage is special, the whisper says, a strange fluttering in his heart.

It will change everything.

Sitting at her dressing table, Angelica Neal stares at her reflection in the mirror. After three years with her patron and following his death, her ‘term of employment’ has ended. What’s more, he seems to have forgotten her in his will. The high-class courtesan is pondering over her options; her money is dwindling and yet there is also a new sense of freedom whereby no man has claim to her body but her. Either she is to return to Elizabeth Chappell’s Temple of Venus or hasten to seek another patron. This time, however, she wishes for a lover and dreams of marriage.

In Eighteenth Century London, Hancock and Neal would have brushed past each other on the streets. One a widower and childless, a man who knows money but does not spend it in the embrace of women. The other carries on an ‘adventurous’ life in the embrace of men and values them by how much they would spend on her. In a nutshell, their worlds are like two blinds that stand parallel. Nevertheless, Imogen Hermes Gowar believes they should meet.

Coined as Vintage’s Lead Debut for 2018, The Mermaid and Mrs. Hancock spins a bewitching narrative with a fairy tale thrown in. Based on a classic legend sung in various rhymes by seafarers and in the dreams of explorers, it’s something familiar to everyone but a kind of tale that might have been unheard of before.

Imogen yarns the plot that entices readers to regard a period of time years before Andersen’s Little Mermaid was published but some time after the tales of the Mermaid of Amboina reached the ears of Tsar Peter The Great and George III of England.

It might have surprised Imogen that there hasn’t been a mermaid character in English fairy tales, but the public have an insatiable curiosity of the mysterious embodiment. And so it goes: how about a London mermaid - her own very tale?

‘But what am I to do with it?’

‘Why, exhibit it!’

‘I am not a showman,’ says Mr Hancock primly. ‘I shall notify the Royal Society. This must be an important development for science, and I am not a scientific man either.’

Captain Jones waves his hand in disgust. ‘And then how will you recoup your cost? Listen, ‘tis common sense. Find a coffee-house, charge a shilling per view, and say three hundred view it in a day – I am being conservative- why that s ninety pounds in a week. ‘You might tour the country with it. Take it to fairs. The provinces’ appetite for such things has never been quenched.’

‘Ninety a week, though?’ wonders Mr Hancock.

Mermaid for profit. A dead mermaid for hire. Imogen might have had this idea after she set eyes on a mermaid taxidermy at the British Museum where she used to work. The idea of hiring a place to display a curio, let alone artefacts in designated premises might possibly be far-fetched. Through her depictions Imogen is inviting us to foresee particular circumstances wearing different thinking hats.

Imogen is painstaking in her details. Her fruitful labour gives birth to a new tale that is brought together because of her protagonists’ distinguished viewpoints. Her mermaid has a voice; she conjures not a prince for the immortal soul but men with attitudes; an unscrupulous abbess for a mer-grandmother and the sisterhood of the Temple of Venus’ girls to replace the Little Mermaid’s sisters. Consequently, she shies herself not from dwelling into judgment on moralities; racism and class or hypocrites and thieves. Her minor characters are assertive and audacious, seemingly strong but vulnerable people that shadow Hancock the mermaid man and Neal the courtesan and pull them in different directions.

There’s more to Imogen’s mermaid than meets the eyes; pages that oftentimes would be understood better after a second reading. Her approach in blurring the world between the mer-people and humans’ is a departure from Andersen’s firm inclination to the opposite.

In the excitements of unfolding events, however, Imogen’s subplots are ripped at the seams. In spite of flowing dialogues, she makes the audience extend their patience a little while anticipating the climax. After so much has happened, is the denouement going to be a little flat?

‘Mr. Hancock?’ Mrs. Neal turns restlessly, and lays her face upon her arm. ‘Were you ever in love?’

He tugs his cravat. He feels that Henry has walked beside him all the day, and many hours after waking, his mind is still so distracted that the word love on the lips of a beautiful woman puts him in mind of nothing that it ought, but instead lays in his arms once more the weight of his little boy, Henry, as he cradled him that one and only morning. The child was already dead at that time, his poor blood crisping at the jag in his head that the instrument had made.

Be that as it may, Imogen is skilful at building up moments which then deliver unusual openness as the above depiction would testify. Her stitches might occasionally be imperfect, but they will hold together. More importantly, the book is far from a saga of a young mermaid giddy in love and chasing her immortal prince at all cost. After all, a happy ever after isn’t what the book has intended.

‘We live in a modern age, sir; the things that are wrought may be quite as extraordinary as those that are found.’

I’d like to begin this review with two interesting movie facts.

Did you know???
Out of 127 minutes, Jurassic Park only has fourteen minutes of on-screen dinosaur time.
The shark doesn’t appear until around the eighty minute mark in Jaws.

These facts sprung to mind as I read Imogen Hermes Gowar’s impressive debut novel The Mermaid and Mrs Hancock. The curious title catches your attention, but this tale is so much more than mermaids. Just like Steven Spielberg’s artful use of suspense, this produces an endless amount of intrigue and entertainment as the novel progresses.

For a debut novel, The Mermaid and Mrs. Hancock is a marvellous exercise in world building. Imogen Hermes Gowar creates a remarkably detailed picture of 18th century London. This is a time when the British Empire still rules the seas and the city continues to rapidly grow and expand. Society is largely divided into the very rich and very poor allowing prostitution to be one of society’s guilty pleasures.

Imogen Hermes Gowar’s prose makes this busting city come to life in a cacophony of sights, smells and sounds. Characters both minor and major make the search for survival and status seem very real. This put me very much in mind of Jessie Burton’s The Miniaturist, which was another suspenseful read based in a similar society and era. Interestingly, both of these authors were inspired by museum exhibits to write their novels.

‘I am advised to forget,’ he says, ‘but if I did not have the pain, I would have no memory of them at all.’

The story is told from two angles. Firstly we are introduced to Mr. Hancock who makes his coin as a shipping merchant in Deptford. While secure in his wealth, Mr. Hancock is a long way from engaging the upper society of gentlemen until fate provides him with a rare opportunity. One of his sea captains returns from sea without his ship and instead produces the most unusual of packages. Little does he know it at the time but this unusual gift will open many doors for Mr. Hancock.

Angelica Neal frequents different social circles to Mr Hancock
‘But amongst all this brave order there are those who have fallen loose from it, as screws from a fine machine. In this city of a thousand trades, there is only one that the women return to as if they were called to it.’

The novel’s other main character is Angelica Neal. Miss Neal has returned to high society in London after a brief absence and is determined to make a go at survival on her own. She still has the charm and looks to attract the finest suitors and she makes a living out of attending parties and gracing the finest theatre boxes. Her previous madam, Mrs. Chappell, has other plans however and retains a hold over her old charge. Before she is truly free, Ms Neal must both repay Mrs. Chappell and find a man to fund her extravagant lifestyle.

The chief strength of this novel for me was the manner in which it dealt with the place of women not just in 18th century society, but also in the modern age. I feel that this was the hidden message of the author’s work. This is not a secret feminist manifesto but a subtle comparison of gender specific roles in society.. As is the case in every other aspect of this novel, the author writes about this with a perfect sense of balance. In fact, I don’t think I have read such a finely balanced novel in a long time.

‘Men are not fearful; they build one another to greatness. Women believe their only power is in tearing one another down.’

Also, this particular quote stood out for me because of the recent Anthony Joshua furore in the news.

‘Strong passions are troublesome in a girl, but intolerable in a woman; check her now, Mrs.Hancock, before she gains a reputation.’

At its heart though, The Mermaid and Mrs Hancock is simply a good story. It combines historical fiction with magic realism to create something truly special. Is there room for a sequel? Possibly so. But as a standalone novel, this is a fine example of fantastic storytelling.

‘They file down the hill laden with buckets and brooms and brushes, and emerge some hours later weeping into their aprons.’

Much as I loved the style and writing of this, there’s no major hook. We follow our cast and watch their discoveries but I find it hard to say what the appeal of this book will be.
Thank you NetGalley for the opportunity to read this prior to publication.