Noble Beasts by Lucy Waverley review: 'A stunning historical novel'
Based on the troubled life of 19th century artist Sir Edwin Landseer, Noble Beasts is utterly captivating, writes Rachel Mackie
In the summer of 1858, the artist Sir Edwin Landseer was given the monumental task of sculpting four mighty bronze lions to surround the base of Nelson’s Column in London. In this stunning historical novel, gripped by a madness induced by alcoholism and drug use, Sir Edwin is haunted by lions stalking his dreams, and as he loses his grip on reality he revisits his turbulent past.
Noble Beasts takes us through Landseer’s younger days as an up-and-coming artist, his sweeping and all-consuming affair with Georgiana Russell, Duchess of Bedford, wife of his most important patron, and the subsequent scandals that drew him towards substance abuse.
Although it’s based on real events, the book never feels too weighed down by history, and even when we meet the young Queen Victoria it doesn’t feel ludicrous or incongruous. The appearance of such a major historical figure might have felt cartoonish in the wrong hands, like an errant episode of Horrible Histories, but here she comes across as very real and natural, fitting seamlessly into the story.
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Throughout, the focus is on the characters as real people as opposed to historical stereotypes. There’s no winking at the audience, and there are no ham-fisted attempts at “Forrest Gumping” our lead, forcing him into arenas where he doesn’t belong. It‘s wonderful to reach the end of the book feeling as if you really knew these people, without the sense of having just deep-dived a Wikipedia page.
The world Sir Edwin inhabits feels both real and surreal as his grip on his surroundings becomes more muddled. He is a tragic hero, delighting in his highs and struggling with his lows - a passionate and compelling lead. He is an obsessive and fanatical perfectionist, riddled with insecurities, and his battles with depression, alcoholism and drug use feel desperately real.
The novel leaps between the past and the present in an appropriately erratic fashion, and though the past is romantic and compelling, the book really shines in the present. Sir Edwin is haunted by lions, emerging from the shadows of his home and the nightly mists in his garden. It is all wonderfully atmospheric and evocative, and you really feel Edwin’s delusions, his fear and his uncertainty. The portrayal of his addiction and mental health issues never feels cliched or derivative, but real and sharp.
Perhaps the overriding draw of this book, however, is the vivid, colourful writing, which switches between incisive details and a gentle, almost poetic narrative style. The descriptions of Scotland particularly stand out, as Sir Edwin divides his time between the smoke and disease-filled streets of London and the soaring vistas of the Highlands.
Waverley also manages to avoid some of the more egregious “mystical Scotland” pitfalls. There is nothing worse than when Scotland is portrayed as a wild, uncivilised wilderness, but in Noble Beasts the Scotland we are presented with is three-dimensional - yes, a beautiful and majestic escape for the wealthy elites of London, but also fresh and clear and real.
In the end, Noble Beasts completely captivated me with its natural, flowing style and its tragedy, passion and beauty. Its hero feels tangible and real, and the world around him shimmers and stays with you long after you’ve finished reading.
Noble Beasts by Lucy Waverley, Bonnier, £16.99
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