The Lambs of London, by Peter Ackroyd

As previously stated, I’m a philistine who doesn’t understand the global appreciation for Shakespeare’s writings.  I do, however, appreciate the impact he had on western literary tradition, and the global literary zeitgeist.  When I picked up The Lambs of London, by Peter Ackroyd, I wasn’t sure what I was going to get, other than something of a love letter to the Bard himself.  And I was right – Ackroyd is obviously a fan, as his appreciation for Shakespeare’s writing pervades every page of the book.

First, an overview of the plot.  The Lambs of London is a series of stories that overlap and intermingle.  There are, however, two main story lines.  The first centers on Mary and her brother, Charles Lamb.  The names might sound familiar to some of you – their claim to fame was a series of children’s tales, based on Shakespeare’s works that were published in the early 19^th century.  When the story begins, however, Charles and Mary are living at home – Charles is working as a clerk for the East India Company and is gaining some notoriety for being published in the weeklies; Mary, however, is stagnating – as intelligent as Charles (maybe more so), she’s stuck at home helping to keep the house in an era where educating women was not common practice.  The second main story focuses on William Ireland – another name that may be familiar to those in the historical know.  Ireland is famous for having ‘discovered’ a cache of previously unknown documents authored by Shakespeare, including a new play.  William, Mary and Charles develop an odd set of relationships and rivalries amongst themselves which carries all the other sub-plots.

The book, overall, is interesting.  The reader is treated to a fictionalization of the early lives of the Lambs, and to the events surrounding the discovery made by Ireland.  The characters, however, are hit and miss.  William is interesting and dynamic – his personal drive, intelligence and interactions with his over-bearing father all make for an interesting read.  Charles is slightly less interesting – he’s a young man about town with no real sense of responsibility for those in his life, and Ackroyd almost skims over any character development concerning him until the last chapter.  As for Mary… well, Ackroyd gave her short shrift.  On paper, her story should be the most interesting and well developed by far, and yet Ackroyd alludes to character development without giving us any real sense of the whys and wherefores.  Her end is startling in that it’s abruptly presented and poorly explained.  

Where Ackroyd does excel, however, is in the history.  You can’t read through a history about London (and many about English society) during all periods without coming across Ackroyd’s name in a bibliography.  Ackroyd is a prolific author on English history, and is especially noted for London: A Biography and Albion.  Both are expertly researched and presented, and both are widely acclaimed.  Before seeing The Lambs of London, I was unaware that Ackroyd was also a fiction writer, but he’s apparently prolific in that arena as well.  While his plot and characters may leave something to be desired in this work, the backdrop he paints for them is stunningly rich with historic detail.

Final verdict?  If you’re interested in London, early 19^th century British history, Shakespeare, and/or the Elizabethan age, then I would recommend this book.  Somehow, Ackroyd manages to meld all of them together in this fictionalization of various truths.  While I found Ackroyd’s tale interesting, it wasn’t a barn burner; and while he presents some new arguments in favour of Shakespeare’s genius, I still find the Bard to be overrated.  

Zombie Island, by Lori Handeland

Following War and Peace, there was nothing I wanted more than to dive into a less complicated, faster paced, and more light-hearted read.  I did this by following up on the sequel to Shakespeare Undead – Zombie Island, by Lori Handeland.  Of course, I couldn’t read the sequel without reading the fist book also, so I immersed myself in Handeland’s tale of the Bard and his long, un-dead career.

 Zombie Island picks up almost exactly where Shakespeare Undead ends off.  In order to get away from her husband, Kate and Will agree to fake Kate’s death using a potion that will make it look like she’s dead, when in fact she’s only asleep.  Kate’s husband will bury her in the family plot, and Will will be there when she wakes up after the potion wears off in 42 hours.  In Kate’s words, “What could possibly go wrong?”  Sound familiar?  That’s one of the charms of Handeland’s work – she uses Shakespeare’s plays as inspirations to advance her own plots.  But of course, it’s Handeland’s plot that provides the inspiration to Will.  

Of course, with famous last words like ‘what could possibly go wrong,’ everything does.  Through a bit of trickery, Will and Kate (again, I love the name choice) end up stranded on an island following a tempest (of course) which is infested with zombies (again, of course).  The zombies are there at the summoning of a wizard, who claims to have been robbed of a throne, and were collected with the help of a sprite.  The wizard, who is kind of a douche, manipulates the sprite and Will into doing is bidding which, in the end, is the creation of a monstrous zombie army that he can use to reclaim his throne.  

Now, this is going to sound ludicrous, but bear with me: I didn’t like ZI nearly as much as SU because it wasn’t believable.  I know, I know – how can I accept that the Bard is a vampire and the love of his un-life is a zombie hunter, but I have problems with wizards and sprites?  I don’t know, okay, but I do.  Handeland takes the story from the familiar streets of London, with all the laws of Elizabethan society and culture, and focuses her tale on a remote and magical island with creatures that are equally magical and remote from the reality that was London.  It’s a hard dichotomy to explain, but the fact it, I don’t buy the extra trimmings that Handeland is selling in this one.

However, that doesn’t mean I’m not going to read her next book when (if?) she releases it.  Handeland has a great devise at the end of both books – they end as if they could be stand alones without another book to follow (ZI less so, but there is some resolution).  I do have a feeling though that she will continue on with these characters and the larger plot that ZI introduces.

So, final verdict?  I would definitely recommend you read these books.  Handeland has a wonderful sense of history and humour, and has created wonderfully engaging characters.  Considering her main character is someone we all know at least a little bit about, her ability to craft a relatable and new persona to go with the name is commendable.  Handeland is definitely an author whose works I’m going to be on the look out for in the future.