Carnet perdu: The Essex Serpent / Sarah Perry

I can't help but think that I entirely missed the point of this novel.

After seeing so many Booktubers raving about The Essex Serpent, even lauding it as their favourite book ever, I had to see what all the fuss was about. And alas, I was bitterly disappointed.

Over the course of 11 months, from January to November, the narrative — scattered with a few letters — follows Cora who, shortly after her husband's death, moves to Essex with her young son and her very close companion. Relishing intellectual and physical freedom, wearing a man's coat and boots, and trudging through mud in search of fossils, she has left behind most societal expectations towards women as to their appearance, speech and behaviour.

Perhaps imagining herself as a successor of Mary Anning, the 19th century fossil collector who made capital discoveries along the Dorset coast, Cora sets off to the village of Aldwinter in search of the mythical serpent that, according to rumours, was shaken awake from its slumber by the earthquake that occured a few years before. There, she befriends the very conservative Reverend Ransome and his family... and things start to go downhill.

Jumping between London, Colchester and Aldwinter, the story features (in no particular order): lots of mud; two murderous attacks; a display of surgical skills; an obsession with the colour blue; an objectionable piece of sculpture; a missing girl; social housing plans; did I mention the mud?

Are we meant to establish parallels between Cora and the Serpent, to see both as disruptive factors in various characters' lives? To be perfectly frank, I can't muster the energy nor the interest. I simply couldn't bring myself to care about any of these people.

To me, the tone of the novel was rather flat, devoid of emotional depth. We're told that characters experience feelings such as love, jealousy, fear, sympathy, etc., but always externally. As a result, they're not much more than vague figures given lines to speak and moved from one location to another. With the Serpent apparently on the prowl, we should apprehend something dark and dangerous out there, but other than children not being allowed to play outside, there's barely any sense of dread and very little of foreboding. As for Cora's supposed passion for fossils, it's always demonstrated passively: she suddenly has fossils in her pockets or on her desk, but is never actively shown hunting for them or studying them.

Worst of all, I never at any moment forgot that I was reading, which to me constitutes an essential element of a good book. (For example, without absolutely loving it, I remember being completely immersed in Eleanor Catton's The Luminaries from the very start, as if watching a movie inside my head.) Don't get me wrong, I've no doubt that Sarah Perry can write, and there are a few lovely passages. The last section, for the month of November, is better than the rest — but unfortunately, it came far, far too late...