The Miniaturist by Jessie Burton
My rating: 4/5 cats
I love you. I love you. From back to front, I love you.
this is an remarkably polished and transporting debut novel that has been compared to sarah waters.
which comparison alone should be enough for you to give it a shot, but i’ll continue to blather on a bit in case you need more encouragement.
it takes place in amsterdam, in 1686, during that city’s golden age, when it was incredibly wealthy because of its trading capabilities, but there was still a great deal of social progress to be made in the areas of racial and sexual tolerance, and gender rights.
petronella oortman finds herself in this bustling metropolis after a conveniently (and quickly) arranged marriage brings her from her small village to the city following the death of her father. she is only 18, and she is a bit out of her depth as she struggles to adapt to the social mores and expectations as the madame of the house. her new husband johannes is twenty years older and, while seemingly very kind, is emotionally and physically distant, as he conducts business both at home behind closed doors and abroad, where he is gone for weeks at a time. she is left in her new home with her husband’s unapproachably cold and enigmatic sister marin, and the household help, otto and cornelia. otto is the first dark-skinned man nella has ever seen, and she is innocently fascinated by his exotic appearance, but notices how people on the street stare at him with less-kindly fascination. she begins to see the ugliness of the city under all its gilded ostentation.
johannes arrives home one day with a present for nella – a cabinet house, which is an exact replica of their own house, miniaturized and unfurnished. the abstemious marin is outraged by the extravagance, and nella is offended by what she sees as a toy for a child. resentfully, under orders, she sends out for custom-made pieces to fill it – pieces that she selects specifically as little passive-aggressive jabs which speak to the frustrations and disappointments she feels as the ostensible lady of a house weighed down by an absent husband, iron lady opposition in marin, and no power of her own.
Yes, I will decorate my house, Marin, Nella thinks – with all the things that you detest.
a tiny scrap of marzipan that marin claimed made people “sick in the soul.” a miniature betrothal cup that was missing from her hasty wedding. the lute she has been forbidden to touch. her little tantrum backfires, however, and her moment of triumph is short-lived as other pieces begin to arrive for the cabinet house, unordered. eerily accurate miniaturizations of the furnishings and inhabitants of the house, which are ominously attuned to the happenings beneath the roof, and even seeming to predict the future.
the miniaturist is elusive, despite nella’s several attempts to get to the bottom of these unsolicited pieces, and to determine how a stranger seems to know so much about the goings-on of her household.
secrets upon secrets upon secrets are discovered, as nella begin to learn how to navigate her new life and come into her own. things happen, both horrible and beautiful, but the story is always addictively compelling.
great writing, superior characters, a stunner of a debut. highly recommended.
PEEEEEEBOOOOOO!
