The Mercies by Kiran Millwood Hargrave

The Mercies begins in the furthest northern reaches of Norway in a harsh and remote community devastated by an almost supernaturally powerful storm. The men of Vardø are swept out into the raging sea, swallowed up and spat back out for their wives and daughters to bury, leaving the women alone in the midst of winter. Maren has lost her father, brother, and betrothed to the storm, haunted by nightmares of a whale she isn’t certain was amongst the churning waves that chaotic night. In the months following, the women have taken up roles once occupied by their men, searching for a way to sustain themselves against the odds.

Word spreads of Vardø, and their seemingly unconventional way of life in the absence of men, threatening their independence and sparking rumors of witchcraft. Commissioner Absalom Cornet is dispatched to the town with his young wife Ursa; sent on a mission to root out the evil he sees amongst Vardø after witnessing what he deems a lack of faith in God. Maren and Ursa form a kinship with one another born from loneliness and uncertainty, becoming closer as their understanding grows. It’s only a matter of time before Absalom’s hunt for retribution closes in on them.

Sadness, anger, and frustration sloshed around inside of me at the conclusion of Kiran Millwood Hargrave’s moving story. I stumbled across this book quite a a while ago, but at the time I wasn’t in the mood to read a downer. There are some stories you know are going to break your heart in a beautiful way, and that’s exactly what The Mercies did to me. It’s a tale of survival, love, and being brave enough to take control of your own fate even when it seems all hope is lost. We all have some base knowledge of persecution related to alleged witchcraft, yet Hargrave crafts a harrowing landscape and imperfect characters who bring to light the grim reality of what it was to be a woman willing to push boundaries in times past. Even stepping a hair out of line could lead to unintended, disastrous consequences. The persecution of women is a topic still relevant today, and somehow society keeps finding a new kind of witch hunt to go on.

This fictional story was inspired by historical events during the early 1600’s in Norway. It’s apparent in the rich details Hargrave took great care to research the witch trails in Vardø and the characteristics of life on the edge of civilization to maintain historical accuracy. It feels too vague to say this book is about life, but at the root it is. Much of the story is spent with Maren and Ursa as they navigate their wants, needs, and desires both apart and together, as well as the obstacles thrown into their paths. As a reader I was swept up into the everyday life of Vardø; butchering, cleaning, cooking, gossip, and such. It’s impossible not to become immersed in the rough, practical lives of the women on the island as they tackle grief and acceptance in their own ways. This story is built on a spectacular level of realism that sucks you into the environment immediately. I felt the same isolation and dread as the women in the novel; it isn’t often that a story’s emotions are able to extend from the page to the reader this fully.

Some difficult topics like religious persecution, racism, and abuse are handled very carefully and in a way where they never fade into the background like an afterthought. Each topic is woven together with Maren and Ursa’s stories, and the stories of other women on the island. Maren and Ursa’s story was understated and genuine; a testament to the importance of emotional connection in our lives. Two women from vastly different backgrounds are brought together by their shared indifference toward their situations in life and their inability to change their circumstances or be their authentic selves. Each character has found a way to move on from the tragedies of the past, yet it’s interesting how those coping mechanisms interact with one another in relation to the main plot; either saving or condemning certain women.

If you’re looking for historical fiction with romance, but you’d rather enjoy the specific historical aspects instead of fluff, The Mercies is the right book for you to pick up next. Romance is not at the forefront of this story, instead its gracefully woven into the larger conversation surrounding feminism, discrimination, and oppression. My only frustration with an otherwise fantastic story is the pacing. Though I appreciated the detail and thought that went into the story, sometimes the writing became bogged down by too many specifics and mundanities. The pacing did work in Hargrave’s favor when it came down to building anticipation leading up to the somber conclusion.

Overall, this was a 4.5/5 stars. The Mercies would be enjoyed by fans of the classics that don’t shy away from the hardness of life, historical fiction, and anyone interested in feminist stories.