Ghostwalk
(Weidenfeld and Nicolson, UK, 2007; Speigel and Grau, Random House,
US, 2007)
A
Cambridge historian, Elizabeth Vogelsang, is found drowned, clutching
a glass prism in her hand. The book she was writing about Isaac
Newton’s involvement with alchemy—the culmination of
her lifelong obsession with the seventeenth century—remains
unfinished. When her son, Cameron, asks his former lover, Lydia
Brooke, to ghostwrite the missing final chapters of his mother’s
book, Lydia agrees and moves into Elizabeth’s house—a
studio in an orchard where the light moves restlessly across the
walls. Soon Lydia discovers that the shadow of violence that has
fallen across present-day Cambridge, which escalates to a series
of murders, may have its origins in the troubling evidence that
Elizabeth’s research has unearthed. As Lydia becomes ensnared
in a dangerous conspiracy that reawakens ghosts of the past, the
seventeenth century slowly seeps into the twenty-first, with the
city of Cambridge the bridge between them.
Filled
with evocative descriptions of Cambridge, past and present, of seventeenth-century
glassmaking, alchemy, the Great Plague, and Newton’s scientific
innovations, Ghostwalk centers around a real historical mystery
that Rebecca Stott has uncovered involving Newton’s alchemy.
In it, time and relationships are entangled—the present with
the seventeenth century, and figures from the past with the love-torn
twenty-first century woman who is trying to discover their secrets.
A stunningly original display of scholarship and imagination, and
a gripping story of desire and obsession, Ghostwalk is a rare debut
that will change the way most of us think about scientific innovation,
the force of history, and time itself.
A
beautifully written book, mixing a compelling contemporary love
story and a fascinating historical investigation, with Isaac
Newton and alchemy playing a crucial role. The mystery at the novel’s
centre is audacious, convincing, and will make readers think anew
about what history is.’ Iain Pears, author of An Instance of the Fingerpost
’Stott
moves between past and present with the page-turning dexterity of
a literary alchemist—a novel of intrigue as cleverly imagined
as it is entertaining.’ Joseph Kanon, author of The Good German, The Prodigal Spy,
and Los Alamos
‘A
dangerous love story and mystery, where after a time neither the
reader nor the heroine can tell what is true. You slip through the
shimmering prose and fall into the alchemy of Newton and certain
unsolved crimes of his time until you begin to wonder if what happened
then can affect what might happen now. Blending contemporary quantum
physics with the winding streets of ancient Cambridge, Ghostwalk
is a highly intelligent and original novel. Stephanie Cowell, author of Nicholas Cooke and The Physician
of London
’An amazing work—a highly intelligent thriller that
combines the supernatural with modern quantum theory, the current
war on terror with Isaac Newton's work on light and gravity, and
his delving into alchemy in the seventeenth century. At once mind-boggling
and mind-expanding.’ Nicholas Mosley, author of Hopeful Monsters and Time at
War
‘This
daring mystery tangles occult and scientific knowledge with obsessive
love and hidden world events. It is wonderfully down to earth, and
genuinely eerie. Once in, you are not likely to leave off reading
until after the very last twist.’ Dame Gillian Beer
Extracts
‘Every
cut in the ground elder root is a failure; every cut will make a
redoubling of effort necessary. That’s how I came to understand
Isaac Newton’s fear of sin, I think, and how embroiled Mr
F became in Newton’s name, and how neither of them could stop
what they had started, and, finally, how I have come to see the
way the consequences of their seventeenth-century acts twisted and
turned their way to us, underground and overground, splitting and
redoubling. Organic and botanical… Now Cameron Brown, I am
starting to tell it again so that I can make you a thread for your
labyrinth. Yes, I am putting the seventeenth century back into the
picture.’
‘A
fire so blue and orange and dense that you could have touched it,
which began there is that tangle of bonfire apple wood and the discarded
stuff of a woman’s life. Around this blue light, the darkness
fell away into shades of grey and brown.’
‘How
many times does a piece of paper have to blow away in a windless
garden for it to stop being a coincidence?’
‘It
wasn’t a benign kind of curiosity, it was something dark and
ravenous – ravens scavenging over a corpse, dark, urgent and
visceral.’