Fawkes by Nadine Brandes

**Spoiler Alert**

Brandes draws us into a vivid alternative-history/magical version of the political and religious realities of early-17^th century London.  With a stroke of brilliance reminiscent of C.S. Lewis, she renames Catholics as ‘Keepers’ and Protestants as ‘Igniters’, both of whom have respect for White Light (i.e., God) but have a different understanding of how they should interact with it.  Igniters speak directly with White Light, using all the different colors of the spectrum in their magic. This enhances their power, generally speaking.  The Keepers view this direct interaction and broad scope of power as dangerous, and the magic folk among them apply their own personal powers to a single color, which they choose when young and adhere to for life. The correlations are fun and well-conceived, though I did take issue with the obvious conclusion that Protestants were magically ‘stronger’, as there didn’t seem to be any redeeming qualities to concentrating powers on a single color.

Thomas Fawkes, son of the infamous Guy Fawkes, is a Keeper—at first.  His father has neglected to provide Thomas with the mask he should have received in order to harness his color power, so Thomas makes his way to London to find him. Of course he lands in the thick of the Gunpowder Plot as a co-conspirator, though his lady-love, Emma, just so happens to be an Igniter.

To spice it up, Brandes throws in a stone-plague and African skin and John Dee, who was once court astrologer to Queen Elizabeth I. I’m loving this alternative history of masks, cloaks, and magic and am appreciating Thomas’ struggle with the madness that surrounds him.  Though he wants to be a loyal Keeper, he fervently respects Emma and is somewhat troubled by the mass murder he’s helping to plan (these Keepers intend to blow up Parliament and the King, of course—which is what the Gunpowder Plot was about).

Half-way through, and I’m enchanted, right?  I adore Thomas’ insight as to the futility of their struggles against one another, especially since both sides claim to respect White Light.  His mind opens to Emma’s perspective, and he’s rightly troubled by what he’s helping to plan.  At this point, I’m feeling that Nadine Brandes has that C.S. Lewis’ grasp on Christianity, that she’s in touch with White Light herself, that if the world would just see things as she does, all would be well.

And then the story turns.  Thomas’ mind isn’t ‘opened’, it’s more that he converts.  And suddenly, somehow, the Keepers are lost, in his mind.  And when, in the end, Guy Fawkes is tortured and headed towards death, all Thomas can think of is how desperately he wants to convert his father, too.  I’m just horrified that while Brandes vividly describes how awful the father’s treatment has been, that Thomas doesn’t empathize with his father, nor does he seem to feel the slightest remorse (his father would likely not have been caught if not for Thomas, after all).  The son only pressures the father to convert, to talk to White Light directly. Brandes seems to view the division between Protestantism and Catholicism to be as profound as they did in those times—and I truly wonder if she doesn’t view Catholics as sufficiently ‘saved’!  For modern Christian circles, I believe this view is unusually narrow-minded, though I doubt she was continuing her correlation by this point.

The last third of the story loses me, as well, in that Thomas Fawkes seems to feel obliged to burden everyone with his confessions.  In reality, he would have been offed immediately. Foolishly, selfishly, he repeatedly opens that maw of his to tell everyone how he betrayed them.  I’m not just upset for his sake—he still has plans to try to save people, and if he’s killed, he won’t be able to do it. But he insists on having a clear conscience at all times, and he repeatedly speaks up with his confessions, displaying not a wit of reserve or savviness or guilt for ruining the lives of his Keeper-friends. When King James asks him what boon he desires, instead of doing good or even benefitting himself or Emma, Thomas ends up asking only to see his father, whom he pesters to convert as the poor man is in agony.  Thomas attends his father’s execution with Emma, and it’s such a happy day for him as he sees his father dying—because his father shows White Light in his blood, as Igniters do.  What a joyous thing, hmm?  [This is irony, btw.]

I’m drawn in by Thomas’ earnestness, and I appreciate his shift, but then I’m left baffled by his suddenly-narrow adherence to his newfound perspective.  Again, I suspect Brandes loses her correlations and isn’t intending to imply that Catholics aren’t ‘saved’ (though maybe she is?).  In the end, Thomas’ entreaties to his father remind one of a overzealous missionary, desirous of saving souls while being unmoved by human suffering. 

I was so inspired by the first half of this book that I’m not sorry to have devoted time to this novel. Brandes is a fine writer with a wonderful imagination, but I was quite disappointed with our protagonist in the end. Guy Fawkes, however, acted with unwavering humility, savviness, and loyalty, however misguided his plans were. He seems a hero, and I’ll likely never feel as dubious about the holiday called ‘Guy Fawkes’ Day’ again, thanks to this fictional account by Nadine Brandes—who, again, is a fantastic writer.