By Nell Fowler
Orphaned heroine H spends most of this novel fighting to survive life in 17th century London, making a gutsy if slightly unbelievable protagonist as she battles fire, plague, rape, childbirth, heartache, prostitution and evil, thieving relatives with good humour and vim.
The engaging H needs all the courage she can muster when a cousin attacks her, triggering a disastrous series of calamities. The attack leaves poor H, now pregnant, feeling she must leave home to prevent the wider family’s disgrace. It’s still the 1660s, after all, and H knows she’d be blamed for the attack, although others would (at least we hope so) nowadays see things differently.
Making matters worse is the plague, which is making people flee London for the countryside. In the confusion, H’s allies disappear, leaving her alone, broke, pregnant and terrified.
Still only a teenager, H turns to prostitution to feed herself, given a lack of viable alternatives. Alcohol helps her survive the horrors she faces, but the text hints at a despair lurking under the surface.
Although we’re occasionally given glimpses of the dangers and misery H faces, mostly the story offers a jolly romp through her encounters with amorous but benevolent clients, fuelled by wine and strong spirits.
In many ways it’s a relief to be offered such a tame version of
the poor woman’s sexual experiences. In others, it’s hard to
escape feeling short-changed by an account that tends to
glide over the darker parts of H’s history.
I wasn’t sure about H’s apparent strength of character, her cheerfulness and resourcefulness, admirable though they might be. Could any orphaned child forced into sex work be that strong-minded? Of the handful of women I’ve known who found themselves doing sex work, all have suffered serious and long-term mental and other health problems. Personally, I don’t think anyone could come through such trauma as chipper as H, bless her.
Later, after she gives birth to twins conceived the night she was attacked, more problems beset H. The story still races along, though, with the charming, likeable H at its centre but her chirpy Cockney-sparrow optimism becomes harder and harder to believe in. Helping us stick with it all is the fact the text is fluent and readable, and the plot put together meticulously. Burton also creates a highly credible version of 17th century London.
We’re pleased for H when she gets her version of a happy ending and we see her marrying a wealthy aristocrat, who happens to be a former client. Presiding over the ceremony is another old customer, who turns out to be an affable, bluff sea captain when he’s not hanging around brothels.
All of us believe H deserves some happiness, on several occasions we see her showing kindness to others, she’s spunky and sympathetic and brave. After what she’s been through, you feel nobody could begrudge her a few breaks. Unfortunately, the book feels as if Enid Blyton or Just William does renaissance London, five going on a mad romp through natural destruction and the darker side of 17th century life. All we’re missing is Timmy the dog. Things don’t quite add up and the ending doesn’t feel entirely plausible, although we’re happy to suspend our disbelief as H finds her happy-ever-after. Caveats aside, this is an entertaining if mildly preposterous read.
The Strange Adventures of H, Sarah Burton, Legend Press, 2020
Helen Fowler Writer 