Book Review: The Ninth Child

The Ninth Child, by Sally Magnusson

     This book about a Scottish faery tale is so readable because it is based on a true story.

     There really was a Scots minister by the name of Robert Kirke. He really did die under mysterious circumstances in 1692. He really was the first person to translate the Bible into Scots Gaelic, and he really did hand-cut the epitaph for his wife's gravestone, which still stands in the cemetery in Aberfoyle, Scotland.

 

     More importantly for this story, though, is that Kirke was a folklorist, who collected and wrote down the tales of the Good People. It was this work that got Kirke into trouble with the faeries. The tale is that when Kirke died, the faeries stole away his body, replacing it with one of their own. They kept him from his heaven until he performed a task in repentance.

      It is this legend -- which the great Scots author Walter Scott had a hand in spreading -- that Magnusson imagines is true, and she writes the conclusion. 

       Fast forward to 1856. Isabel Aird is a doctor's wife, a lady of leisure and fashion, a city woman. Her husband, bored and looking to expand his medical knowledge, takes a position out in the country, as the Scots attempt to blast through the rocky highlands to bring fresh water to Glasgow.

    She is frustrated as she tries to adjust to life as a country wife. She misses the luxuries of an urbane society, but she comes to enjoy the trails and fields around her home. She manages to accept the country people, and some of them enjoy her, but they can never quite put aside their suspicions of her. 

   Of course, at some point, Mrs. Aird and Rev. Kirke meet and develop a relationship. It's an uneasy one, full of missteps and mistrusts. Each is unsure of the future and the social acceptance of their friendship.

    The tale is mostly theirs, but it brings in various subplots that tie into the story. There is Mrs. Aird's inability to give birth, as she has had eight miscarriages -- and during the book, she again becomes pregnant. Her desire to have a child is strong, and her society's judgment troubles her. She attempts to branch out, and expresses a wish to learn medicine and help her husband, who too often responds with a patriarchal flippancy.

    Yet, she is surrounded by strong women: There's Kirsty McEchern, a co-narrator who provides the voice of the Highlanders whose culture Mrs. Aird moves in with. Florence Nightingale is making her own waves in the world of medicine, and Mrs. Aird sees her as a living example of what women are capable of. Victoria is the queen, a mother and a sovereign, and her strength and equal personal relationship with  her husband, Prince Albert, is a strong contrast to the lifestyles of  Mrs. Aird and most of the women of their time. 

    It's a multi-faceted book, one that will leave you thinking about it long after you've read the last page.