Review of Even Beyond Death by Fiona Melrose: A Journey Through Love and Sacrifice
Sometimes a book grabs you with its audacity, and Even Beyond Death by Fiona Melrose certainly did just that. The title alone conjures up images of grand gestures and transcendent love, but I wasn’t ready for the emotional rollercoaster that Jehan, Marquis de Beaudelaire, takes you on. As someone who revels in tales of love that defy norms and challenge societal expectations, this 17th-century romp promised to be a captivating experience. Little did I know how deeply it would entwine me in the protagonists’ poignant journey.
At the heart of this narrative is Jehan, a libertine whose charm oscillates between charming and downright reckless. From the outset, his character is irresistibly magnetic—rich in vanity but also blushingly sensitive and woefully lonely. Melrose captures this duality beautifully, and by the end of just the first chapter, I found myself wholly devoted to his plight. Jehan’s life takes a compelling turn with the arrival of Master Jonathan Kryk, a dutiful and austere valet who seems to epitomize the virtues of his homeland, yet hides depths of emotion beneath his sturdy exterior. The friction and eventual passion between these two is the lifeblood of the story, and Melrose executes it with an elegance that feels both modern and authentically steeped in history.
The themes of love, yearning, and the very human flaws that accompany them resonate throughout the book. Set against the backdrop of an unsympathetic 17th-century Avignon, the relationship between Jehan and Joe unfolds not just as romance but as a rebellion against the societal constraints of their time. It’s intoxicating to witness Jehan’s, often melodramatic, journey filled with giddy love and painful lessons learned the hard way. Yet, it’s in the final third of the narrative where Melrose truly tests our hearts, leading us to a devastating climax that left me crying. The narrative dances between hope and despair, leaving a bittersweet aftertaste that lingers long after the final page is turned.
However, my enchantment was slightly muted by the framing device Melrose chose—Jehan’s story is relayed through the lens of his ‘scribe,’ a contemporary figure with a penchant for commenting on Jehan’s life and her own experiences. This added layer pulled me out of the emotional trajectory I had grown deeply invested in. As a reader, I’m seeking immersion, and continually shifting my focus to the author diminished some of those poignant moments. By the time I hit the ‘Dear Reader’ epilogue, I yearned for a narrative that allowed Jehan’s story to stand alone, where his love could speak for itself without the modern mediation.
I also grappled with the dynamics of the master/valet relationship. While it provided a compelling power play, specific moments—most notably a non-consensual encounter—left me grappling with discomfort that wasn’t fully addressed. Jehan’s reflection on his actions showed remorse, but the integration of these darker themes felt a bit uneven. I found myself wishing for a deeper exploration of how much of Jehan’s devotion arises from an understanding of Joe’s needs versus his own romantic idealism.
Ultimately, Even Beyond Death is a complex tapestry of love, sacrifice, and the hard truths we face about ourselves and those we care for. I would recommend this book to readers who appreciate historical fiction that doesn’t shy away from the messy realities of love and the lessons it teaches us, albeit with some reservations regarding the narrative mode. If you can weather its emotional storms, you’ll find both heartache and beauty woven through its pages, leading to reflections long after the story concludes. Melrose’s ability to evoke feelings that push and pull is what stayed with me; for that alone, this book deserves a place on your reading list.