02 September, 2012

An Instance of the Fingerpost by Iain Pears



It is the year 1663 and in England the Restoration is underway with Charles II asserting the authority of the monarchy once again. Yet enmity persists between Protestants and Catholics; between supporters of the crown and those of Cromwell. At New College, Oxford, Roger Grove, a senior fellow, is found murdered. And in An Instance of the Fingerpost the reader is left to puzzle out the identity of the murderer from four different accounts of the events surrounding Grove's death. The book utilizes the unreliable narrator. While all four men agree that Grove was killed and that at the subsequent trial Sarah Blundy, whose reputation as a whore and an apostate do her no service, was found guilty, there is much contention over just about everything else.

Each man's testimony is prefaced by an Aphorism from Francis Bacon's Novus Organum which, theoretically, gives the reader some idea of the veracity of the words to follow or, perhaps an idea of the biases each narrator introduces. But the stories build upon one another with details and motives slowly teased out until a simple murder case in Oxford is shown to be part of a larger diorama within which much weightier issues are at play.

The first testimony is given by Marco da Cola, a gentleman from Venice who finds himself in England seeking to recover his family fortune which was stolen away by a dishonest business partner of his father's. In addition to relaying a chronicle of events, he also intends "to expose the lies told by those whom I once numbered, wrong, amongst my friends". Short on cash and unable to conduct his business in London, da Cola hastens to Oxford in the hope of meeting Robert Boyle who is busy inventing the field of chemistry. Having studied anatomy and gained a keen interest in blood, da Cola finds himself in good company with Boyle and his colleagues who accept him despite the fact that he is a Papist. A physician named Richard Lower becomes the closest thing da Cola has to a friend. The pair are able to indulge da Cola’s embrace of the scientific method by performing a primitive blood transfusion on Sarah Blundy’s mother who is in grave health.

Da Cola portrays himself as an innocent abroad who observes the English landscape before him. This first tale introduces us to the cast of characters that populate the rest of the book and emphasizes that the Restoration is still a work in progress. The civil war fractured families and friendships and even now there are many who are bitter.

The second testimony belongs to Jack Prescott whom we meet briefly in da Cola’s account of events. It is prefaced by one of Bacon’s aphorisms which warns against prejudice but Prescott is very prejudiced indeed. From the comfort of his mansion, he relates his tale of how he, as a young man, sought to clear the name of his father, Sir James Prescott. James was a supporter of the monarchy even as Cromwell ruled but he died having been found a traitor to the king. Jack was a student at Oxford at the time and, since youth equals impetuousness, he seeks out several reputable and powerful men to aid him in his quest for evidence that would repudiate all of the calumny brought against his father’s reputation.

Jack’s mission sees him converse with former Roundheads giving Pears a chance to expand upon the civil war and its aftermath, topics essentially only touched upon by da Cola’s account. This also brings John Wallis closer to the light. We met him in the first section of the book but we learn a bit more about his role as a cryptographer for both the crown and the Parliament. Jack also had more intimate dealings with Sarah Blundy and he plays a role in her trial.

While Marco da Cola seemed to be an affable gentleman, Jack Prescott comes across as a spoiled child who has had his toys taken from him. He is not particularly likable and I found myself smiling when he stumbled in his quest. But our third narrator is perhaps even worse.

John Wallis offers his testimony as well. A brilliant mathematician, he plied his trade as a cryptographer for both the king and for Cromwell. Wallis is a very dispassionate man, always willing to sacrifice individuals for the good of the country, no matter how cruel or misguided it may be. This über-patriot is also very paranoid. Perhaps he was involved in the cloak and dagger world for too long. He is a bit like General Buck Turgidson from Dr. Strangelove - seeing danger everywhere and, in this case, he is convinced Marco da Cola is a threat to the throne. The man is obsessed with finding a copy of a particular printing of Livy as he is convinced that it is the key to a cipher and, if he had it, he could decrypt certain documents and put an end to the danger posed by da Cola.

By the time I had finished reading Wallis’ story, I was thoroughly confused but it was a rather delightful confusion. Pears did a really great job of introducing characters, developing them, and then throwing them into doubt with contradictory stories. And so with a fourth and final bit of testimony by Anthony Wood, the truth comes out. Or does it?

Since Wood’s account of events contains a rather large revelation, I won’t go into much detail. What I will say is that what he tells us resolves lingering inconsistencies from the first three stories and directly contradicts other claims. Without meaning to give too much away yet wanting to give an example, Wood’s testimony gives us a much fuller picture of Sarah Blundy. For da Cola she was of little consequence. He pitied her because she was poor and got caught up in the Grove affair but also thought she lacked virtue, was headstrong, and simply didn’t know her place in society as a woman. By the end of the book, however, she is revealed to be much more important with her religious views and her family history being paramount to her story.

Having finished the book, I wondered whether or not Wood’s instance of a fingerpost was truthful. The book was like Rashomon with conflicting testimony all around so was Pears really telling us all via Wood or was the truth elusive? The final section is called “An Instance of the Fingerpost” and the aphorism which prefaces it says “…Instances of the Fingerpost shew the true and inviolable Way in which the Question is to be decided.” It sure seems like Pears is telling us that Wood is to be trusted. Yet, after offering his version of events, Wood says, “This is the truth, the one and only truth, manifest, complete and perfect.” That just sounds suspicious to me. How is it that Wood managed to avoid all the prejudices, pitfalls, and self-deceptions of the others? Perhaps a second reading with a highlighter will convince me otherwise, but I remain suspicious of Wood’s account.

Aside from the questions about truth which the style of the book raises, this theme is raised in another context. Marco da Cola is fond of experiment and puts his trust in its results. Boyle and confreres, however, recognize limits to science and place the discipline in the service of religious faith. And so the issue of epistemology is raised in a different way. There are other themes at play here as well. The civil war and Restoration raise questions about what makes a government legitimate, for instance. Plus there are more personal issues, with loyalty being one of them. Loyalty to a ruler (king or Parliament?), loyalty to friends (da Cola‘s has a falling out with Lower), and loyalty to truth (Wood is reluctant to step forth with his testimony in Sarah Blundy‘s trial).

I suppose many people will find An Instance of the Fingerpost to be dry reading as there is almost no action and Pears writes in a way that, while I suspect it’s not exactly how Englishmen spoke in 1663, will pass muster in creating atmosphere and placing the reader in that time and place. But the language is hardly impenetrable and the slow, methodical way in which Robert Grove‘s murder is relegated to the background and “truth” behind the lives of other characters is revealed is really a very fun brain-teaser.

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