This is a collection of short stories that is never less than good and contains one , about a medieval herald, that I have never read better. It makes no pretence of being poetry but its alternating scenes are so vivid that in memory it seems to have no narrative - you just see it unroll infront of you. Its too short to say much without giving its denouement, but to fit love, war and maturity into 10 pages is fantastic.

Tremain's book is a moving portrait of what it means to be unsure of yourself and the price you pay for being different. It works as a whole, in that the main and supporting characters are very fully-fleshed and we have the chance to really like and understand them. Some elements, such as the mentally ill mother, seemed familiar and almost drawn from other novels I've read, but even these characters maintained a fresh quality that kept me interested. My only complaint is the final 1/4 stretch in which the main character, Mary/Marty, seems to spend a lot of time feeling sorry for herself. I know such is human, but for me a whine is still a whine.. However, even this doesn't tarnish the lovely prose and the well-paced plot. Definitely a recommended read.

I completely agree with the five or six other reviews of this book for two reasons, one that it's an absolutely wonderful story and two that it's a shame that more people haven't reviewed it. It's one of those rare books that will capture you until you read the last page. The characters, as well as their relationships are so well crafted that you don't want them to end. It so touching and human that I can't imagine anyone would not fully enjoy it.

If you think Rose Tremain's "Sacred Country" is anything like Virginia Woolf's "Orlando", you're wrong because Mary Ward didn't take centuries and successive reincarnations to morph into Martin. She had one mortal life to live and became Martin in that time. In short, Mary was a transexual, a boy trapped in a girl's body, who suffered great torment as a daughter to the brutish farmer, Sonny and his hapless spaced-out wife, Estelle who spends her life shuttling between the funny farm and home. Mary's struggle to come to terms with herself would have been intolerable in provincial Suffolk if not for the support of grandad Cord, schoolmistress Ms McRae and batmaker Edward Harker, all shining examples of humanity in a community constricted by a numbing lack of imagination. There's the goodhearted but dim witted and conventional minded Irene and the ever pragmatic Grace who hasn't the imagination to understand why her son, Walter needs to seek salvation in faraway Nashville as a country & western singer. Just as Mary finds her own support group, Walter relies on his uncle, Peter to inspire him. Even Timmy, Mary's brother, finally escapes to find fulfillment in a vocation that would break his father's heart. "Sacred Country" is a novel about the isolation and loneliness of non-conformists. The ghost-like figure of Livia (Estelle's mother, Cord's wife) symbolises the spirit of adventure and heroism. She hovers silently above the community like a big bird urging everyone to their own destinies. Mary took nearly three decades (from the day King George died in 1952) to become Martin. In that time, the world has changed, but have we ? "Sacred Country" is behind it all an ode to human courage. Tremain is a tremendous writer. She has written a novel that will endure. Highly recommended.

Having studied Congreve and had to laboriously look into traditions of the Restoration period, this book was a relieving surprise. Crude, bawdy (and sometimes rather explicit !) "Restoration" encaptured the essence of the period in such an interesting, yet informative way. The book traces the life of Robert Merivel and his path to maturity and understanding. A fall from grace forces Merivel to leave behind a life of idle luxury and face up to responsibility. His character is presented realistically and exquisitely - even at his most detestable we cannot help sympathising with him. Everything in this book was perfect - the plot, the character development and the representation of the period. A must-read !

What is most interesting with this book, is that R. Tremain managed both to create a character (Merivel) that is so really human with his weaknesses and qualities , and to set him alive in the historical course of mid 17th century England. The result is a really deep and enjoyable story, very much alike Robert Merle's "Fortune de France"

I highly recommend this book.

I was encouraged to read this book because I had seen and thoroughly enjoyed the film by the same title. As a practicing physician and lover of early Baroque music, I found myself deeply moved by Rose Tremain's novel. The story is narrated in the first person by Rober Merivel, a physician during the reign of Charles II, the English king restored to the throne after the end of the English civil war and the regime of Oliver Cromwell. I was profoundly impressed at how Tremain, a female, was able to so intimately and accurately write from a masculine perspective. In addition, she was able to clearly express the fears, anxieties, and growing pains of a physician that still hold true today. Her portrayal of the close friendship between Merivel and "Pearce," a Quaker, and fellow physician reminded me of my own professional relationships with some of my colleagues. I wonder if she has had some close relationships with physicians. It certainly speaks well for her research on the historical and scientific background for this book. Tremain's description of the practice of 17th century Euopean medicine was fascinating and well portrayed. I found the growth of Merivel as a human being most engaging of all. His trials and tribulations, his evolution from a self-centered hedonistic court fop to a serious and senstitive man is beautifully and poignantly portrayed. Tremain's work also has some thinly veiled commentary our own times, times not unlike the Restoration wherein, as Charles II describes at the novel's end, " Even in an age in which we wisely practise the excellent art of oblivion, certain things remain." There is a very amusing and ironic moment in the novel where Merivel, a newly appointed Overseer of the Poor in his shire, is instructed in the differences between the "Idle, Able, and Impotent Poor." His own commentary on how this may be applied to the aristocracy and hangers on at court is just one very entertaining and particularly barbed example of the author's view of our own times. I would put this novel in the same class as "The Citadel" by A.J. Cronin, being a story of a physician's life and of the times in which he lives and works. I recommend this book to anyone interested in going into medicine, in the midst of training, or in the practice of the healing arts. I would also recommend it to anyone searching for meaning in these difficult not-so-modern times. My only two regrets are that the story came to an end and that I am unable to personally express my gratitude to the author for writing this work. It left a deep impression on me, one that makes me feel better about our common humanity over the ages.

With remarkable skill Rose Tremain reconstructs New Zealand in the mid-nineteenth century, where newlyweds John and Harriet Blackstone build their new, if temporary, home. Accompanied by John's widowed mother, Lillian, a saturnine woman who longs to return to her beloved England, the three live together, separated by flimsy walls of calico. Sturdy and resourceful, Harriet falls in love with this open land, her flourishing vegetable garden one small retreat from an ill-suited marriage to a man either unwilling or unable to be a good husband.

When John discovers a tiny amount of gold dust in their creek, he is infected with the fever for more, the same gold fever currently raging on the west coast of New Zealand. He hides this meager treasure from his wife, beginning a long process of denying the partnership with Harriet. His desire is single-minded and selfish, as dreams of wealth consume him. Disappointed with his negligible booty, John decides to board a ship and sail to the gold mines to seek his fortune and he intends to do so alone.

John becomes one of the miners, obsessed and driven, common sense a thing of the past. With observations unflinching as a camera, Tremain captures the force of this lust, wherein the quest becomes the goal. Here is this drive, this need in exquisite detail, the lives of the miners and the claims that patchwork the landscape exposed like helpless suitors in pursuit of an inconstant lover. Meanwhile, purveyors of goods collect handsome amounts of currency, providing necessities to the miners, a cottage industry springing up wherever Gold Fever strikes.

When Lillian dies and the newlywed's Cob House collapses from the onslaught of winter, Harriet goes after John to inform him of Lillian's death. Their first meeting is as awkward and formal as it was in the beginning of their relationship. Leaving John's camp, Harriet climbs higher, starting a claim near the produce garden of Chen Pao Yi, who sells his fresh vegetables to the miners.

Given time, the miners would scramble over the land and wantonly purge it, without a thought to the devastation left in their wake. But, like a sleeping giant, New Zealand has only to shift while dreaming and the men are scattered and destroyed, the continent returned to its former pristine beauty. With one brutal stroke, nature intervenes, changing all their lives. Separated, John and Harriet struggle to survive and it is clear that John is the glass half empty, while Harriet is certainly the glass half full. Harriet enters a period of awakening, cherishing each moment as it comes, while John is tormented by loss and self-pity. And the gardener, Pao Yi, is fortunate as well, for he is essentially the water, without need of a glass at all, inhabiting his world with quiet acquiescence.

Tremain is one of those accomplished writers who fleshes out her characters, all the trivial moments and secret longings that give them depth and believability, allowing the reader to understand these people in their flawed humanity. The colour, the gold, changes John, Harriet and Pao Yi intimately, each indelibly marked by this vast and awesome landscape. Luan Gaines/2003.

The Colour is a beautiful book. The characters inhabit a world that is vibrant, emotionally alive, daring with a host of smells and textures that pour from the page into your heart. It is an adventure story, a love story, a human story.

The setting is 1860's New Zealand, and the characters are trying to survive in a brash, untamed land. With an unfurling of lives that is natural and compelling, Rose Tremain transports the reader into a world that is so real that the cold of the mountain torrents, and the unbearably heavy lightness of the snow, and the strange wonder of the birds and air and clouds sink into your bones and deep into your mind.

Finishing this book was sweet sorrow. It all came full circle, but i didn't want to say goodbye. The world of The Colour, though, is as real as things seen only in the mind. Travel there yourself, and you won't soon forget the journey.

17th C. Denmark is the setting. The characters are: King Charles IV; his wife Kirsten; Peter Claire, a lutenist from England; and Emilie, Kirsten's newest lady-in-waiting. The background characters are finely developed as well, each playing his integral part as the story unfolds. All is well orchestrated, moving cleanly to an ending where any loose ends are eventually wrapped in a tidy knot.

Peter, the English lutenist, finds himself cast as the King's "angel" when King Charles becomes moody and distressed by his personal loneliness and the impending poverty of his kingdom. At the same time Charles is perilously besotted with the charms of an adulterous Kirsten. Not particularly kingly, Charles IV is rather a sad lump, much in need of aid in any form; he receives this help through the gracious character of Peter Claire.

Then there is Emilie, Kirsten's lady, who wins Peter's heart at their first meeting. But this is not an easy romance, as Queen Kirsten has chosen Emilie as her most trusted lifetime companion. When Kirsten is inevitably banished from the Court for her outrageous misdeeds, she takes Emilie to live in the country as well, now Kirsten's only friend and solace. A durable soul with misplaced loyalty, Emilie becomes an unknowing pawn to the selfish woman's whims.

Will the King find happiness and riches sufficient to support his faltering economy? Will Peter and Emilie be forever lost to one another through Kirsten's machinations? By design, the novel moves from place to place, scene to scene, with seemingly unrelated characters. They are, in fact, all moving toward the resolution of the carefully woven plot, and precise detail lends an appealing ambience to the Court. The answers fall gracefully in line in this meticulously manicured maze where the author remains in control throughout.

Rose Tremain's gorgeous novel, Music and Silence, is the best book I have read in several years and one of my alltime favorites, by far.

The book's central character is Peter Claire, an English lutenist, who, in 1629, arrives at the palace of King Christian IV of Denmark to join the royal orchestra. Things are not quite what Peter expected, however, and he is more than surprised when he learns the king requires his orchestra to perform in a freezing cellar, among a group of squawking hens, while the orchestra's exquisite music floats up to the Vinterstue via a series of trapdoors and pipes.

Although Peter Claire is the central figure in this novel, there are many others whose stories are no less important. One of these stories belongs to Kirsten Munk, wife of Christian IV and the "almost Queen" of Denmark. Kirsten despises music and chooses to spend her time either dreaming of the Swedish Count Otto or frolicking with him, whichever the case may be.

Kirsten's favorite lady-in-waiting, Emilia Tilsen, also plays a very important role in this magical book, for Emilia Tilsen and Peter Claire fall in love at first sight on the grounds of Rosenborg, the palace that Christian built for his unfaithful wife. But will Peter's and Emilia's love be allowed to blossom or will it wither on the vine? When the adulterous Kirsten is banished from court, she takes Emilia with her, thus jeopardizing the young girl's future happiness with the English lute player.

Music and Silence is also the story of the beautiful Irish countess, Francesca O'Fingal, a Bologna-born Italian beauty whose husband, Johnny, is the subject of a metaphorical subplot. We learn his story from Francesca via her notebook, aptly named, "La Dolorossa." And, if this isn't magic enough, Francesca and Johnny both have a connection to Peter Claire.

And then there is Marcus Tilsen, Emilia's five year old brother, a fey imp of a child whose thoughts are "plucked from the air" and who seems to possess magical powers, powers that will one day be needed to save the life of Peter Claire.

If these fascinating characters are not enough to keep any reader thoroughly engrossed, we also learn the story of Emilia's father, Johann and his second wife, Magdelena, a bewitching woman who has learned to use her wiles well, but never wisely. Another wonderful character is Christian's mother, the miserly Queen Sofie, a woman whose antics lend much comedic lightness to this gorgeous tale.

Tremain is a master storyteller and a master at characterization. We really come to know each character through the author's skillful first-person narration. While each one occupies a special place in our thoughts, it is Peter Claire who stands at the center, the connecting point from which all the other stories radiate.

While some of these characters are more good than bad, and others more bad than good, none are without both virtues and vices, something that only endears them to us. The Dowager Queen Sofie may be a miser, but she is a comic one. Kirsten may be selfish and self-centered, but she, too, has moments when she finds it in her heart to love unselfishly.

Music and Silence is a lavish feast of a novel set against the fascinating historical background of 17th century Denmark. It encompasses characters of tremendous depth and a wide range of emotion. Tremain's writing is absolutely flawless; the smallest detail is given as much love and attention as is the largest set piece. This elegant and stylish book is an unparalleled accomplishment for Rose Tremain and an unparalleled treat for any sophistical reader. No one could ask for more.

Big and bawdy, hilarious and dark, grotesque and graceful, this winner of Britain's Whitbread Award explores complex themes of love, beauty, power and ego, betrayal, politics, ambition and selfishness.

With the intricate structure of a masterful musical piece (like the beautiful air that tragically obsesses one of the minor characters), the story is set in vivid 17th century Denmark and centers around Peter Claire, English lutenist. Arriving in Copenhagen in 1629 to join the Royal Orchestra of King Christian IV, Claire is aghast to discover he will be playing in a cold, dank wine cellar, open to the elements so the wine may breathe. The orchestra's miserable confinement serves the king's ego and ideas of beauty. Through an ingenious system of pipes, the music rises upward without distortion so the disembodied sound appears ghostly or heaven-sent. For Christian, enjoyment without human distraction; for his guests an impressive marvel.

Point and counterpoint, other voices rise as Tremain shifts the narrative among characters. Lusty, beautiful, adulterous young Kirsten, the King's consort who will never be queen, trapped by Christian's love for her, determines to drive him to indifference. Her favorite handmaid, Emilia, thrust from her family by her father's lust for his new wife, awakens to Peter's true love. The King, sunk in fear and melancholy over a fortuneteller's prophecy and the collapse of his once lofty ambitions, ruminates over his passion for perfection and the betrayal of his childhood friend.

Captivated by Peter's angelic beauty, Christian fastens on the lutenist. Likewise captivated by Emilia's melancholy innocence, Kirsten will not be separated from Emilia. Both use their minions without regard for their own wishes.

Peter plays for Christian for the first time: "When the song is over he glances at the King, but the King doesn't move. His wide hands clutch the arms of the chair. From the left side of his dark head falls a long, thin plait of hair, fastened with a pearl. 'In Springtime,' Christian says suddenly, 'Copenhagen used to smell of lilacs and of linden. I do not know where this heavenly scent has gone.' "

And in the next moment we meet his Kirsten: "Well, for my thirtieth birthday I have been given a new Looking-glass which I thought I would adore. I thought I would dote upon this new Glass of mine. But there is an error in it, an undoubted fault in its silvering, so that the wicked object makes me look fat. I have sent for a hammer."

Lesser characters pursue their own driving concerns. The Queen mother guards her treasure from her son's grasping needs. A widowed Irish countess pines after Peter and contrives to follow him to Denmark. Peter's family tries to entice him home. Kirsten's mother hatches plots, which will not advance her daughter. Emilia's stepmother's appetites consume her stepsons. A poor town, buoyed by the King's mining plans, suffers, quite literally, from their collapse.

As the thwarted desires of Peter and Emilia advance and recede (both of them pawns of their selfishly loving employers) dramas and intrigues swirl around them. Each of the interconnecting subplots are fully developed, with histories, secrets and absorbing characters.

Tremain's ("Restoration," "The Way I Found Her") characters, with all their faults and aspirations, connect to the reader through their complex emotional lives. Each (save for Peter and Emilia who are too young and pure of heart) has a dark core. But none are purely villainous. Even monumentally selfish Kirsten, ruled by her passions, occasionally succumbs to momentary tenderness. Or a spontaneous tantrum.

At times the narrative swells with the moral force of a fairy tale, other times it gallops along like a classic romance. Always, the beauty of the author's language, its quiet grace and crashing crescendos, draws the reader into a 17th century world alive with people whose human responses are timeless.

Rose Tremain in her novel, "The Way I found her" chooses as her protagonist a 13 year old boy named Louis. Louis is experiencing the development of adolesence as the novel opens and while trying to begin the understanding of himself and the world he begins to see the beauty of things, including the appearance of his mother, Alice. Alice is a translator of novels and it is she who takes Louis to Paris during summer holiday where she is to translate a novel by a woman author, Valentina Gavalorich, the writer of medieval romances. It is Valentina whom Louis experiences "true love" and the beginnings of adult-male passions. When Valentina disappears one day, it is Louis's quest to find her. Ms. Tremain weaves an interesing coming-of-age account with a suspensful drama of events. Not only does Louis begin to realize his own passions as a man-to-be, Ms. Tremain symbolically illustrates the passion in which Louis tries to solve the mysterious disappearance of Valentina. It is as if Louis begins to understand the passion not only as a feeling but as an act of human responsibility. Moreover, this novel explores the choices we make in our lives. Ms. Tremain illustrates a key element through a character who sees himself as an existentialist and this is key not only to Louis but to all of us. The choices Louis makes as well as the choices his mother makes are just that - choices which we need to be responsible and accountable for. Louis chooses his love for Valentina just as he chooses the act of finding her. Finally, the outcome of his passion for Valentina is his choice. As we enter into adulthood and all through adulthood we must try to accept our choices and take responsibility for them. In this, Ms. Tremain demonstrates her keen observations of life. And, although sections of this novel at the end seem long-winded, of one thing we can be sure - growing up has no easy answers or solutions. Ms. Tremain shows us in Louis that the choices we make is a learning process which can possibly never be understood but, which at the end, must be accepted.

Like Harper Lee, Rose Tremain has the gift of capturing the voice of a child. In Lewis Little she creates a boy on the brink of manhood - he is starting to discover his hormones but still has a child's perspective on life. He is a character that you want to stay with. I really enjoyed spending some time in his company and several times found myself chuckling at his observations. The other thing that I loved about the book was the way that it captures the atmosphere of Paris so beautifully. The resolution of the mystery in the second part of the novel is a bit disappointing, but I was so caught up in the book that I couldn't put it down. It's a wonderful, captivating read - don't miss it.

This is a delightful story of a 13 year old English boy, who travels to Paris with his mother who is to translate a book. Lewis Little is growing up, sometimes faltering between becoming a man and sliding back into childhood with its securities.

The first part of the book details his attachment to the author of romance novels, with whom he and his mother are staying. Just when you think that the novel is about his love for an older woman, and an interesting coming of age story, suddenly the object of his affections disappears.

He decides to take on the responsibility of finding and rescuing her.

I found this book really interesting and was fascinated by the world through Lewis' eyes. He was funny, sweet, heroic, emotional, embarrassing...everything that we all experience during puberty. I have two more of Rose Tremain's books on my shelf and look forward to reading them.

this book was about this old guy named sadler and his life as a servant and all around nice but poor guy, and the very few people that actually came into his life. i gave it a chance because i loved Rose Tremain's Sacred COuntry, but this book was soooo different. it just kind of trudged on through, and i pitied the old guy but at the same time, i hated having to read about it. i felt like not a lot happened, and since i never cared about the characters to begin with, i didn't care about the story as a whole. i finished it because i'm one of those people who has to finish a story once it's started, but it was pretty dreary throughout the read.