By all accounts and appearances, Year of Wonders by Geraldine Brooks should be a beautifully received masterpiece about the plauge in 17th century England. In a small Derbyshire village, residents begin to die from this horrid disease, described in such detail as to make the reader fully aware of the devastation. Michael Mompellion, the rector, pursues a plan to shut off all communication outside the village, save the slight contact needed for gaining of supplies and food for life, to thus inhibit the infection of surrounding villages with this plague. Some disagree.

The Bradfords, for example, flee as soon as possible; this wealthy family with plenty of resource to get away from the sickness, leaves all slaves to die in the shadow of the plague while they seek refuge in safer parts. The difference between class is stark in this novel; those “lower” beings, according to the Bradfords, are compassionate, caring, and strong, while the Bradfords appear weak, spoiled, and cold. It can’t just be a matter of upbringing, for while the only other wealthy characters in this book are compassionate through their own grave misfortunes, the poor can be just as heartless.

Anna Firth, our narrator, is the strongest survivor of them all. Compelled by her love for Elinor, Mompellion’s wife, she encourages the villagers to stick to the plan, even though she has lost all that is dear to her and has injustices done to her, besides. We learn of her long dead husband, Sam, and what it mean to her to have him in her life; their children, died later in the story from the plague, and her relations with an abusive father and indifferent stepmother. It’s clear where she gets her will to survive, and her motherly compassion for all those around her, though with such extremes of hatred and jealousy as most of the other villagers have, it’s a wonder that Anna herself possesses none of it. She seems too perfect.

I’ll get right to it: I’m conflicted about this book. On the one hand, it was a very easy, very quick read and I think I enjoyed it a lot. On the other hand, Anna Firth was an unconvincing lead character, and the ending was so full of her many passions and emotions that I don’t even know where to being criticising it. The novel was more or less slow paced until the last 20 pages or so, and the prologue, which jumped into an entirely new world; I felt uprooted.

It was good, but I suppose there was something lacking from it, and I can’t put my finger on what it was. Perhaps it’s that the main character really was the Plague. Novels with inanimate protagonists are always a bit uncomfortable. If that’s true, however, the “main character” as I’m defining it drops out somewhere along the way in favor of Anna, who finds immeasurable strength in the aftermath. For advertising itself as a “novel of the plague,” I feel a tinge uncomfortable that the plague should drop off sometime in the favor of Anna’s pursuit of a true career—her calling, perhaps.

Anna proves the saying that what does not kill us makes us stronger. If you’re looking for a bold, intelligent (though perceived dull by other characters), strong woman character in a novel, this is probably a good choice, all plague and depressing descriptions aside. If you’re looking for a coherent plot, then I’d skip this one. When I started reading this book, I thought it was going somewhere, but was quickly fooled into realizing that actually, it fumbled in the darkness of a sickness that no one could find cure for or define, exactly. I was introduced to several very interesting characters, none of whom had any relevance later on. Once the plague was dealth with, the book should have ended, but instead that extra bit was tagged on just to let you know what happened to Anna.

My shrug of indifference should give indication to how attached I was. I didn’t care what happened to Anna. Indeed, Elinor seemed more of a main character at times, as her story threaded in and out of everything Anna did. It defined Mompellion’s actions as well. Where was she in the end, but a ghost no longer leading Anna through the chaos of death?

As a historical novel, however, Year of Wonders was impressively put together. I felt I was there throughout my entire reading of it, and while some books will suck you in so fully that you have to convince yourself that you’re in the 21st century, this did, at least, make me blink at my surroundings any time I lifted my head. Wonders was thoroughly convincing with vivid, detailed description, indicating the author’s clear sense of life during this time period and the location.

What I expected was a novel exploring humanity during a time of crisis. Most of it exceeded my expectations, catching me off guard sometimes, but what I also got was a failed attempt at an ending narrative. Perhaps if I ever venture to reread it, I’ll stop when the plague dies out.