Burial Rites: The BBC Between the Covers Book Club Pick

Burial Rites is the story of a condemned woman, spending a few months living on a farm in Northern Iceland while the local officials await final confirmation of her death sentence.It does not sound like the sort of book I'd usually read, but somehow, the blurb got me. The subject matter is inherently dramatic in just the ways that movies about condemned people aren't. I have never felt empathy with movie characters waiting for executions, but this book got me close to weeping. Books are simply better at this: you spend more time with the characters, you spend time in their heads, you project your own imagination onto them, and that makes them a part of you, so you somehow have a share in their fate.It's a very fast read. At the start, it's easy to like some characters (Agnes, because we get first person narrated scenes with her, and the novice priest, and the awkward but honest sister), and to dislike some others (the gossip, the district commissioner, the prettier, socially less awkward but more judgemental sister). As the story progresses, Agnes gains in complexity - and so do some of the other characters. (Not all of them: but enough of them to make the book worthwhile).The book evokes 19th century Iceland, and life in rural isolation, very well. It has seasons, and claustrophobia, and a real sense of a tiny island nation.It's an engrossing book, written in atmospheric and rich prose. When we are in Agnes' head (her scenes are written in first person), we encounter a poetic mind, describing the world and events and thoughts deftly and richly. Those who are wont to cry "purple prose" at the slightest provocation might need to be a little wary, but for me, the prose seemed beautiful.All in all, it's a beautiful, very well-written novel. Engrossing, emotionally exhausting, atmospheric, and for the very biggest part, authentic and believable. I wouldn't recommend it for light, fun reading, but if you're in the mood for something hard, cold, and beautiful, then this novel is definitely worth a read.

This was a beautifully written and clearly meticulously researched book. Hard to believe it is a debut. The tragic story of Agnes and her unbearably hard life couldn't fail to have one sympathise with her and wish the ending to be different. The only good thing to happen for her, but sadly far too late, was that Margret and the family took her in and gradually bonded with her and that she had the support and compassion of Toti through her final months. If only she had had these advantages earlier, perhaps her life would not have ended in this way. Hannah's description of the Icelandic landscape and the brutality of life in Iceland at that time was quite extraordinary. This was almost a history lesson. Having said all of this, whilst I hugely admired the writing and incredible attention to detail in this highly intelligent book, it wasn't one that made me want to rush to get back to it and I found it quite hard going at times. However, I was absolutely compelled to finish it, even though the ending was always clear, and I am very glad that I have read it. I'm so looking forward to seeing the screen adaptation, with Jennifer Lawrence in the part of Agnes, which comes out next month. Throughout the whole book I could easily see this as a movie - it will lend itself perfectly but I do hope it portrays what an intelligent piece of writing this is. It is a remarkable achievement. I look forward to her next book - Devotion.

I'm not going to summarise the plot, as others have done that already. I looked up this book after reading a article on the author, I downloaded it late one night and stayed up late the next night to finish it. It ticks all my boxes on many levels. Firstly, the research is meticulous, 19th century Icelandic life is depicted so clearly and well you can feel the chill in your bones and imagine the scents of a smoky, drafty badstofa, the rough texture of the fabrics, the need to huddle to keep the warmth in. The servants way of life was also shown well, along with how orphans and paupers were cared for in such a bleak and inhospitable part of the world. Hard work and long hours went into translating a lot of the authors sources I imagine.Secondly, the imagery was wonderful- such a terrifyingly bleak place, a 'scream of snow'. I've always wanted to visit Iceland- and now I want to even more. Haunting prose- on one or two occasions I found it a bit too wordy and skimmed it- but it was always pulled back to the gripping narrative. There is a kind of horror as the time the heroine (antiheroine?) spends with her host family increases, as she recounts the events leading up to her trial and judgement. The final chapter is heart rending, the emotions conveyed had me shivering.The characters dynamics I thought were very well written. The young priest, anxious to do God's work but not knowing how best to do it, the older sister, always in her little sisters shadow but wanting a friend of her own, the mother, brusque and with a farm to run yet hiding her own problems. And Agnes herself, alone and very scared.Technically, I liked the way it was written- I've always been a fan of mixed person narratives, in this case, Agnes, her priest and third person. No section was too long, and the endings left you with mini cliffhangers making you want to return to their viewpoint soon. It's a techniques I've seen used clumsily before, but here I thought it was done rather well.It's a bit hard to categorise who would like this book- if you like visual imagery, historically accurate novels (as far as I can tell), and gripping text, it might be worth an investment. I look forward to seeing what they do with the film, apparently Jennifer Lawrence will play Agnes. Judging from her performance in Winter's Bone, it should be worth a watch.

Debutant author, Hannah Kent's "Burial Rites" was her PhD submission. Set in Iceland, it's based around the true incident, now legend, of Agnes' execution, the last in Iceland's history.From the patronymic naming of children, to the harsh life, landscape, customs and rituals, this narrative, as the author herself mentions, is uniquely Icelandic, it couldn't have been set anywhere else.Agnes and Friderik, await execution for a murder - while the trial is underway, Agnes is sent to live with a family, impending the verdict. We develop an understanding of her situation, through her interaction with the family she's housed with, bringing forth an unraveling of her story. The Icelandic names of the characters don't roll easily on the tongue, so it helps that each is well etched, with their personalities, distinct.Hannah's interview at the end of the book is insightful. Women who transgress their boxed roles of mother, daughter, virgin, victim are perceived as too smart for their own good and hence, suspicious - they can either be angels or devils. Agnes is not a heroic character, merely a seventeen year old landless orphan, who doesn't want to die. She's at the mercy of circumstances, her desire to belong, to be loved, culminating in unfortunate choices.She also bears the consequences of the travesty of justice - the leanings are already established, her lowly stature and her confident carriage, render her voice and account, inconsequential.Hannah Kent winds up with this paragraph -"This is the beating heart of the novel.How can we know another if we do not hear their story? But then, how can we ever trust what they tell us, when we understand 'truth' as subjective? Is there a difference between factual and emotional truth, and if so, which do we privilege and why? How can we ever truly be understood when self-representation is made impossible, or when others actively seek to misrepresent us? These are the questions that form the pulse of Burial Rites. These are questions I still struggle with."

Well researched novel based on actual event. I normally do not read many mysteries nor crime stories, but this is far more than a "whodunnit" and does not neatly tie up all the loose ends, leaving that to the reader. Thought provoking but a pleasant read which makes for a compelling approach to how society moulds history, potentially not on facts, but through the lens of "morality" at any given time.

Quando ho letto "romanzo storico" ero scettica. Ma Hannah Kent scrive divinamente. E' partita da un fatto storico e ci ha costruito sopra un mondo intero, fatto di sentimenti, di immagini spettacolari; arrivi a fine libro e ti sembra di essere in quella campagna desolata e ostile, in mezzo a quelle persone in cui si instilla quasi senza che se ne accorgano il dubbio che questa ragazza sia molto lontana dall'immagine che avevano di lei all'inizio. Mi è rimasta nel cuore l'immagine di questa donna con la falce in mano che danza il suo movimento ritmico nel campo .. Ho regalato già due volte questo libro, perchè il mondo merita di leggere più spesso storie così belle e crudeli e raccontate in modo così sublime.

Wow what an amazing read. Moving, heartbreaking and tragic. This beautifully written story was vivid in Icelandic description and history. I felt like I had traveled back in time to witness this horrific event.

A masterly feat of story telling that rivals Hugo's Dernier jour d'un condamné à mort. Kent conducts us on the long, transformative journey to the execution block made together by the murderess, Agnes, and the family with whom she spends her final months. She arrives among her reluctant hosts at their farm as a flthy, lice-ridden and all but dehumanised convict. Living and working alongside them, she slowly earns their sympathy and recovers her humanity together with the help of a naïve and inexperienced young pastor. When the justice system finally sets the date for her execution they are all equally dumbfounded by the enormity of her life - a life so like their own - being suddenly forfeit. Agnes killed her lover but she is not a wicked woman and she has suffered much wrong in her life from the society that executes her. For those who still have doubts about the abolition of the death penalty, Agnes's fate is a jolting expression of what it means, for the survivors as much as the condemned person, to cut short a human life through judicial ritual and Kent's telling is all the more powerful for being sympathetic but without sentimentality.