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Final
Witness by Simon Tolkien Rating: ••• (Recommended) |
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Inheritance The first novel from Simon Tolkien, Final
Witness, answers the question, “Can the grandson of J.R.R. Tolkien
write?” The answer is yes. This novel presents a well-crafted plot, fascinating
characters, great shifts in time at just the right places, and fine dialogue.
Here’s an excerpt from chapter 8, pp. 58-9: One Hundred and twenty miles to the east of the Old Bailey the
boy who was figuring so prominently in John Sparling's opening address was
standing at his bedroom window in the House of the Four Winds looking out
over the broad expanse of the north lawn. It was a bright summer's day, and
the sun shone down through the branches of the elm trees, creating a
fantastic play of shadows on the newly mowed grass. Due hundred yards from where Thomas was standing,
the north gate of the property stood closed and locked. Thomas shivered as he
looked at it even though his room was warm, even hot. As had happened so
often in the last few months, Thomas could not stop his mind from going back
to the previous summer, to the night of his mother's murder. In his imagination, Thomas saw the man with the scar
and his sidekick pulling up in the lane in the dark. The sidekick would have
been driving, Thomas thought, with the other giving
directions in his soft, cruel voice. Pushing through the unlocked door in the wall,
Thomas imagined that they must have hesitated for a moment while the man
fingered the scar running down behind his jaw and let his eyes run over the
house, visible in the pale moonlight. Thomas thought of him in the moment as
if he were a cat enjoying the defenselessness of what he was about to destroy
before he set off across the lawn with the gun hard and metallic in his
pocket. He knew where he was going, and nothing would deflect him from his
purpose. Just as it had done a thousand times before,
Thomas's mind flew to his mother, sleeping so peacefully in her bed with the
moonlight shining down through the half-drawn curtains. Sleeping in the same
room where her parents had slept. Where her father had died looking up at the
portrait of his wife on the wall. Where Thomas had often slept himself,
driven by the Suffolk storms to find comfort beside his mother in the small
hours. Life and love and death going on through the generations of the
Sackvilles, until Greta came. Hardly anyone had been in the room since Lady
Anne's death. Sir Peter never came, and it was only Jane Martin who went in
there once a week to dust, and she didn't stay long. She had not yet been
able to face the task of disposing of Lady Anne's clothes. The dresses still
hung in the closets just as they had before their owner's death, as if
nothing had happened. Thomas kept his distance. He had been determined
from the outset to remain in the House of the Four Winds. He was his mother's
heir. To leave would have meant defeat, and he honored her by remaining, but
at a cost. Everywhere he went reminded him other. He tried to help himself by
avoiding the front stairs and his mother's bedroom, but he often found
himself standing outside his own bedroom as he was now, gazing down the
corridor to the closed door at the end, remembering his failure. Over and over again he'd replayed it in his mind.
He'd had to shake her so hard to get her to wake up, and there'd been no
time. He could hear the men downstairs. Perhaps if he'd been quicker or made
her go in front, then she'd have gotten inside the hiding place and the man
with the scar would never have seen her, never have shot her, never have
taken her away. Put her in a black, wet hole in the Flyte churchyard. Suddenly Thomas felt violently sick. His legs went
weak and he was barely able to make it into the bathroom before he threw up,
kneeling on the tiles with his arms bugging the cold porcelain of the toilet
bowl. He retched again and again until he had nothing left. Back
in his bedroom Thomas tried to think of something good. Tolkien provides rich descriptive language
to make all the scenes vivid. The motivations of all characters are well
developed, and intricately woven to keep a reader’s interest strong to the
end. Treat yourself to a fine first novel in the form of Final
Witness, from one who inherited the writing gene. Steve Hopkins, February 27, 2002 |
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ă 2003 Hopkins and Company, LLC The
recommendation rating for this book appeared in the March 2003
issue of Executive
Times URL
for this review: http://www.hopkinsandcompany.com/Books/Final
Witness.htm For
Reprint Permission, Contact: Hopkins
& Company, LLC • 723 North Kenilworth Avenue • Oak Park, IL 60302 E-mail: books@hopkinsandcompany.com |
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