Poetic tale of ancient mystery
Jane Bradley finds this Iron Age tale complex but still compelling
It is entirely my issue, but I have something of a mental block when it comes to remembering the names of multiple fictional characters – particularly if they are names with which I am unfamiliar. For this reason, I spent the first few pages of Mandy Haggith’s latest novel in a state of mental disarray. In the first three pages of The
Walrus Mutterer alone, the reader is introduced to ten characters: Rian; Drost; Danuta; Seonaig; Eilidh; Bael; Ussa; Gruach, Fraoch and not forgetting Pytheas, who, as outlined in a note at the end of the book, is based on the real Greek explorer of the same name who set off on an “epic voyage of discovery” in 320BC.
The first book in a trilogy called The Stone Stories, The Walrus Mutterer is an ambitious and imaginative novel. Set in the Iron Age, in the 4th century BC, it tells the story of a young woman called Rian, an apprentice healer, who is enslaved by a trader called Ussa and taken to sea. The slavers are searching for the mysterious hunter known as the Walrus Mutterer, to recover something once stolen, and they are subsequently joined by the mysterious Pytheas, who claims to be seeking riches from the north to bring back to his native land.
With presumably very little in the way of historical reference points to draw on – documented social history from more than 2,000 years ago not being particularly easy to get hold of – Haggith manages to create a believable and compelling Iron Age world, bringing to life relationships and whole societies from an era which most readers will probably never have considered.
The author’s background as a poet – she has also been an environmental campaigner and academic – is evident in her use of language. When Rian is branded as a slave, the description of the hot iron burning into her flesh is vivid and horrifying: “The pain was a kick of pure hatred. The enemy held the tool. She breathed in the stench of her own burnt skin and cooked flesh.”
Later, a rape by a man who is, at the time, her owner, is subtly, simply and sensitively handled: “Then he hurt her. And Rian understood what it meant to be a slave.”
Alone, with no family to protect her, Rian has been brought up by Danuta. Her son, Drost, is supposed to have treated Rian like a daughter, but he betrays her by selling her to trader Ussa. Drost is not, however, her real father. In a touching scene with Danuta, we see her explain to
Rian that she is not, as she previously believed, an anonymous foundling, but has an even more mysterious past. Danuta tells Rian that she alone – along with just one other man, Uill Tabar – knows the true circumstances of Rian’s birth. This mystery is not solved in this book, nor do we meet Tabar, keeping us hooked for the next part of the series.
The Walrus Mutterer was inspired by the archaeological excavation of the Iron Age broch at Clachtoll, where Haggith, who lives in nearby Assynt, climbed ahead of her book launch in Lochinver last month.
Her previous novel, Bear Witness, was, as the author herself insisted, an eco-novel. The Walrus Mutterer is predominantly a historical novel, but Haggith’s writing retains the same deep connection to the Earth and strong sense of place. ■