Lou’s Review: The Mercies, by Kiran Millwood Hargrave

Kiran Millwood Hargrave is one of my all-time favourite authors. And when I found out she was writing a sapphic love story set during the Vardø Witch Trials, it felt like The Mercies was made just for me. I’ve read it in print, I’ve listened to Jessie Buckley’s divine narration of the audiobook, and every time I’ve loved it absolutely. This is an exquisite novel by a writer at the top of her game, sharp and tender by turns, and quietly radical in its approach to women’s lives.

Though Ursa has grown up in luxury as the daughter of a wealthy merchant, her father’s business has fallen on hard times. With her beloved sister sick and doctor’s bills stacking up, the family are in desperate need of cash. So when a freshly commissioned witch-hunter offers a dowry for Ursa’s hand, she doesn’t refuse. But Absolem’s persecution of women makes her blood run cold, and that cruelty is in no way limited to his career. Away from her family, alone on a small island save for the husband she fears, Ursa is more isolated than ever. Until she befriends a free-spirited local woman, Maren.

After a freak storm claimed the lives of all fishermen, the women of Vardø must fend for themselves. But women fishing, trading, and governing themselves quickly draws the Lensmann’s suspicion, and he sends Commissioner Cornet to impose order. Maren is ready to dislike this narrow-minded puritan, though she feels for his fancy Bergen wife, with no idea of how to keep house. And while she teaches Ursa basic domestic skills, this connection becomes the greatest joy in both women’s lives. However, the closer Maren gets to the Commissioner’s wife, the harder it becomes to escape his attention.

Every so often, you’re lucky enough to find a book that is perfect; a story which achieves everything the author set out to do with flair, and fully satisfies the reader in its execution. To me, The Mercies is one such book. I wouldn’t change a single thing, short of having Millwood Hargrave write a sequel so I can spend more time with these characters.

The Nordic island setting has a powerful atmosphere, with the watchful eyes of a small town creating palpable claustrophobia. Millwood Hagrave’s sharp eye for historic detail and knack for weaving Norwegian words through the story firmly rooting it in place and time. The independence these women discover when freed from men, explored with varying degrees of enthusiasm, is intoxicating. And while the build up to the witch trials is agonising, there’s never a dull moment in this story. Because it’s impossible not to care about these characters and their fates.

The Mercies audiobook, narrated by Jessie Buckley

For all she’d previously lived a privileged life, Ursa is now her husband’s property – at least in Absolem’s eyes, and the law. She has little control over her life – not her longed for letters from home, not the money her father gave her, and not even her own body. And yet, though she suffers in her marriage, Ursa holds on to the compassion which defines her character. Her courage in trying to build a new life in an alien world, the way she grows upon realising how little many island women have in comparison, make Ursa intensely lovable.

Maren is charming too – with no fiancé or father, she makes the most of her newfound freedom even while mourning its price. After losing her brother – the glue holding their racially blended family together – Maren is caught between her mother’s growing fanaticism and her Sámi sister-in-law’s open resentment over the townsfolk’s bigotry. The ways she tries to protect and hold space for Diina, alongside her compassion for Ursa – further isolated by the neglect of an abusive husband – make Maren an easy protagonist to root for.

The Mercies deals with some difficult themes – in particular, male violence against women and racism in a small-town setting. Though Millwood Hagrave’s writing is seamless and smooth, so beautiful you can’t help but gulp it down, it’s not always an easy read. But this story rings with truth that countless women and people of colour will recognise, and that authenticity is breath-taking. There are times when having hard truths acknowledged is more of a balm than happy stories where everything works out like magic.

Certain concepts remain nameless, which fits with the 17th century setting. Sadly, Ursa lived over 300 years before marital rape began to be recognised by laws and society at large. But through Millwood Hargrave’s framing – the way Ursa dissociates, and Maren’s reaction to her bruises – this violence is condemned.

Similarly, both women find unique joy in the love blossoming between them. And while they’re centuries away from terms like ‘lesbian’ or ‘bisexual’ becoming mainstream, the nature of Maren and Ursa’s connection is clear from the intensity with which they crave one another. But love and desire between women are both seen as threatening by men who feel entitled to every aspect of female sexual and reproductive labour. And with Absolem on the prowl, any behaviour outside compliance or submission risks seeing a woman branded witch.

Though both protagonists are white, Kiran Millwood Hagrave is of Indian descent, and that intersection between race and gender – the question of who gets to belong in a community – is one of the book’s richest themes. Though Diina has married into the town and is raising her infant son there, only Maren shows any real loyalty when Absolem starts sniffing around. Not even the ties of family or blood can protect Diina from being treated as an outsider. Race very clearly works as a social dynamic through this subplot, adding to the novel’s believability.

While The Mercies is a historical novel, it will resonate deeply with many modern readers due to Millwood Hagrave’s whip-smart characterisation. She taps into some timeless truths about the best and worst of human nature. This is a magnificent story about love’s redemptive power, and it packs a heavy emotional punch. Whether you prefer print or audio, The Mercies is absolutely worth reading.