Thursday, 30 April 2015
Book Spotlight: A Memorable Man by Gill Gascoigne
A Memorable Man
by Gill Gascoigne
Austin MaCauley Publishers
Thurston Hey is the man around whom this charming rustic tale develops against an unfolding backdrop of civil war in the 1600s in rural England.
From Thurston's childhood unhappiness through to his adulthood interwoven with other village characters of different classes and loyalties, the main character is set off on a path ultimately overcoming tragedy with triumph on his voyage of self-discovery and as he tries to win Elspet, the woman of his dreams.
A Memorable Man is a compelling historical story about self discovery and how people relate to one another with the ultimate triumph of good over evil, its message as relevant today as when the drama is set. The tale moves around and does not necessarily follow a predictable route; A Memorable Man will hold your attention until the end
Thurston Hey might have had a memorable name but he was not on first acquaintance a memorable man.
“Ne’ mind lad…” his mother used to say when he stumbled into the little cottage, his face dirty and tear-stained from the bully boys “…tha’sl ‘ave last laugh!”
Thurston missed his mother. He couldn’t ever remember the softness of an embrace but her unquestioned faith in him always gave him comfort…comfort that he had missed in the two years since her death.
The little cottage, built with his Father’s own hand before he was born, was quiet now when he entered it. No bully boys chased him home in tears these days, no stoic words of comfort welcomed him in. Home was his only comfort now; his short leg didn’t matter in the little cottage. He was master in this house, in this little world.
He was lucky he knew. After all he had bread to eat, a roof over his head, and a fire to warm him to bed. It was a hard life for some outside the little cottage and he was grateful for its comforts.
It was the eve of All Hallows. “Mischief night” his Mother used to call it.
He and his Father and Mother would sit in his long ago childhood years, waiting for the rattle on the door, the mud at the window. The same chill, stomach-churning fear that was such a part of his young life reached through time and made him shiver again. He had no fear of ghosts or witches abroad this night. As always, the ever present dread was of his fellow man, even though those years had long since passed.
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