The Anchoress

March 15, 2015
Quiet, assured debut novel set in medieval England, concerning a young woman's entry into the religious life-one as tumultuous as anything on the outside. Early on in Australian writer Cadwallader's narrative, we learn that young Sarah, still a teenager, has lost her sister in childbirth: "Emma didn't speak, just looked at me, her eyes fading. Blood dripped, then ran." The elegant understatement of that terrible moment speaks to Cadwallader's approach throughout: the England of the mid-13th century is a place of rupture, oppression, intolerance, and violence outside, but within the tight-holding walls of the Midlands church and the "rough lodging" it offers, little of that outside world can enter. Even so, in time, Sarah, though seeking escape, engages with that world-and she must, for it presses in on all sides. And besides, she's not quite cut out for the isolation. Cadwallader is a poet of loneliness; few writers have captured so completely the essential madness that accompanies hermitage, the grayness and sameness of each and every day: "The stones were faces that came out when my candle was alight, some laughing, some staring, some as sad as me." She is also very good at describing the power relations that inhere in religious hierarchy ("Sister, I'm your confessor and guide. You are to obey me in all things, as your Rule says") without resorting to too-easy anachronisms, though Sarah does have her protofeminist moments. In a time when self-assertion was tantamount to sin, Cadwallader's language and tone seem just right. Readers may wish there were a little more action to move the story along, but this is an appropriately contemplative piece that is kin less to Ellis Peters' Cadfael mysteries than to Mary Sharratt's Illuminations as imaginings of medieval faith and the faithful. Sympathetic, fully realized characters and good use of period details make this a winning work of historical fiction.

May 15, 2015

In 13th-century England, 17-year-old Sarah seals herself in a tiny cell attached to the village church, having chosen to renounce the outside world and live out her days in prayer as the new anchoress. What motivates a young woman to live such an ascetic and isolated life is slowly disclosed during the course of the novel, and what is revealed brings into focus questions related to gender, sexuality, power, fear, shame, and the nature of faith. VERDICT Careful historical research is blended subtly in this impressive, nuanced debut. While the slow pacing and shift of narration between Sarah and her confessor, Father Ranaulf, might deter some readers, the prose is fluid, lyrical, and accessible. The details on a little-known aspect of medieval monastic life and the tension between Sarah's desire to withdraw from the world and yet remain very much a part of it makes for compelling reading.--Lyndsie Robinson, Milne Lib., SUNY Oneonta

Copyright 2015 Library Journal, LLC Used with permission.

October 1, 2015

Sarah, a 17-year-old English girl who lives during the 13th century, chooses to become an anchoress at her local church. This means that she is to live forever in a tiny, dank room attached to the church with only three windows and a door nailed shut. A priest receives her weekly confession and offers spiritual advice. Sarah counsels her two maids, who live in an adjacent room, and also advises local villagers. The rest of the time she prays for the welfare of the village and her patron, Sir Thomas, who provides for her care. What events led to an educated young woman becoming a holy woman? And can she possibly stay dedicated to God? While not for every teen, this lovely, spiritual novel is perfect for readers questioning or reaffirming their belief system. Sarah truly believes that becoming an anchoress will keep her from harm, but even a nailed door cannot prevent evil. The church and townsfolk have secrets, and young women during this time period were never safe or free to make their own decisions. There's no romance in this novel, but the layered relationship that Sarah develops with the manuscript creator, Father Ranaulf, is well done and nuanced. Full of searching prayer, saints' tales, mystery, and quiet rebellion, this is a unique literary novel that can be paired with John Boyne's A History of Loneliness (Farrar, 2015). VERDICT Recommended for soul-searching literary teen readers.-Sarah Hill, Lake Land College, Mattoon, IL

Copyright 2015 School Library Journal, LLC Used with permission.

Starred review from March 1, 2015
At 17, Sarah voluntarily enters a small cell to be permanently secluded from medieval English society. By taking the vows of an anchoress, she has dedicated herself to praying for others. Her only contact is to be with her maids, the priest who is her confessor, and the women of the village, who will come to her for intercessions and advice. In this life, Sarah desires safety, simplicity, and a release from the judgments and expectations of the outside world, leaving nothing between herself and God. She soon finds, though, that not even in her tiny chamber can she fully retreat. Dealing with unforeseen trials, fearing temptations of the flesh, and wrestling with heartbreaking memories of losing her sister, she contemplates for the first time the possibility of failure in her new role. Cadwallader's vivid period descriptions set a stunning backdrop for this beautiful first novel as Sarah rejects a larger world that will not allow her to live on her own terms and goes about creating a smaller one that will. Sarah's path will intrigue readers at the crossroads of historical fiction, spirituality, and even feminism as she faces the internal and external pressures on women of the Middle Ages.(Reprinted with permission of Booklist, copyright 2015, American Library Association.)