To Shine with Honor, Book One: Coming of Age by Joseph Scott Amis Review by Pim Wiersinga
To Shine with Honor, Book One, the debut of
Joseph Scott Amis, is a novel of great accomplishment. In a few bold strokes, we
are catapulted into late 11th century France : a world of knights, Men of
God, and commoners in the decades prior to the First Crusade (1095–1099). I
expected a good read; I got more. Many episodes moved me deeply. What is the
novel’s secret?
The novel opens with a tiff between brothers: Thierré de Coudre, typically
the stuff warrior-knights are made of, taunts his youngest brother Galien by not
appearing at the latter’s coming-of-age ceremony. Galien, fourteen years of
age, is already making money as a local scribe; he is destined for a high post
in the fold of the Church - anything else being inconceivable in that era. You
are forewarned: you now enter a time-zone where career options are slight, even
for those of noble descent.
Being of noble lineage, though not destined to become a knight, Galien receives
a new sword out of his father’s hands; an occasion that fills him with pride, yet
enhances his misgivings about the life ahead of him. To his - surprised - brother
Martin, he confides: “Right now, I am making enough money with my scribe work
to think of marrying. Had Father given me the coin he paid for this sword and
scabbard, I could have a five-acre freehold and a sturdy cottage.” Martin
gently chides his younger brother for thinking like a peasant: a great career
awaits you... Moments later, Galien comes to blows with his oldest brother, and
he is “feeling the Norman
blood of his mother come to full fury.” The sword-duel won’t come to pass; the
brothers are marched off to face the wrath of their father Henri - the same
sort of short-tempered warrior as is Thierré, if humbled after having lost
command of his right arm in a fight.
The scene of Henri de Coudre punishing his sons is
superb. It eloquently shows the sense of justice and the affection beneath Henri’s
grim veneer, in a terse, reticent, yet dramatic style. The scene brilliantly shows
the ‘barbaric’ conduct to which noblemen in those days were prone. But, time
and again, Mr. Amis conveys the sobering notion that underlying the fierce
violence is an even fiercer sense of justice - violence being the means
overlords must resort to if they are to redress wrongs and protect the weak, as
is their duty. The best noblemen never indulge
in violence; however, they do ‘indulge’ in the combating of injustice in
whatever form. While catching thieves in the act, for instance, they threaten
to cut the culprits’ balls off, this being the speediest route to confession. Mr.
Amis manages to convey the harrowing terror of the threat without exploiting it:
his reticence helps reveal the rationale behind ‘barbarism’. Miscreants setting
themselves apart from human goodness can’t expect to be on the receiving end of
it; nor do they expect it. Those at the right side of the fence are well-rewarded:
there’s a mutual acknowledgement of valiant deeds, ample celebration, pursuits that
people grant each other in a spirit of generosity.
By lending tangible life to leading tenets of honour and goodness throughout
the novel, Mr. Amis passes the apprentice test for historical fiction with
flying colours; indeed, he goes way beyond that mark. Not only do we lend
credence to the medieval world as evoked, we also get deeply involved with the characters,
especially those who stand out against - yet remain within the confines of -
the moral and historical backdrop of this haunting book; they truly shine with
honor, as the trilogy’s title has it. Galien, Lisette, Alisende, Maitre Joseph:
they are (or were) at variance with ‘easy normalcy’ as they pursue their
destination, yet they evidence a deeper understanding of what life is (or should
be) about.
Galien carves out a path between knighthood and priesthood; he desires
to marry a women whom many of his ilk would mark out for lust; even Lisette herself,
of common ancestry, deems herself unworthy of him. This is no mere ploy to inject
human interest in the novel. We are made to feel Lisette is convinced of her
sacrifice; and we never blame Galien’s brother Martin for his disapproval, nor their
father Henri for withholding consent, nor Galien himself, for that matter: not
only do they act to the best of intentions, they also act to the best of their convictions,
fully acknowledging - and this is a masterly touch - the tragedy involved. The
Coudre family bears Lisette no ill-will: Galien’s sister Alisende, Lisette’s
best friend, sets up a business with her - not an obvious path for a lovelorn lady
of rank. Yet Alisende’s deportment looks like the closest thing to knightly
valour for a woman; which arguably was one (unconscious) reason why I found
their episodes so utterly moving.
Mr. Amis spins tales that always lead somewhere; while reading about
Lisette’s heart-break, we just know that isn’t the end of it; and the author
needs few words indeed to have us understand that Pernelle, a merry Troyes noblewoman
whom Galien meets en route, won’t ever replace Lisette.
Nowhere does the author content himself with a simplified scheme of good
and bad guys, if the era’s ethics seem unequivocal. Halfway the novel, Mr. Amis
has Count Bayard, an enemy, show up in the monastery where Galien dwells; this Bayard
claims to repent his former greed and coldness by donating large - and welcome
- sums of money to that monastery. Try as he might to better himself, Bayard will
in the end be exposed as a hypocrite; a twist that is quite deftly intertwined with
other threads, such as Galien’s apprenticeship to the eccentric maitre (‘architect’)
Joseph, in whom the author salutes his former profession… But let us not spoil the
plot. Suffice it to say that the universe in which Galien and others move may
seem simplistic to us; and yet its intricate ramifications leave ample room for
character development. No one in the story attests to this more strikingly than
does Galien’s brother Thierré. Starting off as a bully, he ends up one of
Galien’s best friends - and a praiseworthy pupil to the art of corresponding. It
is touches like these that make a good novel great.
Pim Wiersinga is a Dutch author of historical fiction. His English
debut, The Pavilion of the Forgotten
Concubines, a novel of intrigue in the Imperial Court of late 18th century
China, was released by Regal House Publishing in February 2017. Presently, he
is writing his second work in English, The
Thomas Trilogy, a tale of the adventures of a young troubadour in
post-Third Crusade Aquitaine. Pim holds a MA in Literature from The University
of Amsterdam.
To Shine with Honor, Book One is now available
in paperback and e-book, at the link on this page. To Shine with
Honor, Book Two: A Trail of Blood is scheduled for release in Summer 2017.
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