ŷ������

1776 finds the thirteen colonies in the throes of revolution, but in this rural part of Rhode Island, the war has had little effect. Old Mary Finch just died, and in her will she freed her two slaves. Teenaged Isabel looks forward to being emancipated, but wonders what will become of her and her little sister, Ruth, who is both “simple�� and epileptic.

But Miss Finch’s cruel nephew has no intention of abiding by his aunt’s wishes and sells the girls to a wealthy couple from New York. The Locktons are Loyalists with Patriots for neighbors, and soon clever Isabel finds herself embroiled in a spy network, even as she struggles to protect Ruth from Madam Lockton’s cruelty and rage.

What side should she take in a war where neither side wants to set her free?

Setting
Anderson brings the colonies to life in all their wide-ranging grossness—the captured soldiers in the dungeons, living and dead unsorted, are chained in their filth and prone to the worst diseases, while upper-class ladies glue mouse fur to their eyebrows and drunken Hessians blow their noses on tablecloths. On the plus side, a lot of their food sounds wholesome and yummy.

She also evokes well the smallness of the city then. When Isabel has a day off, she plans to walk across the entire town, and guesses it will only take the better part of the afternoon. Believe it or not, kids, there was a time, long ago, when you could actually see the stars in New York!

The book is permeated with dread—the micro-struggle of Isabel, switching sides in the hopes of getting herself and her sister free, mirrors the macro-struggle of New York as it gets tossed like a football between the British and Continental Armies. Or perhaps it’s the other way around.

Plot
Isabel quickly makes the acquaintance of Curzon, slave to a Patriot who lives near the Locktons. Curzon’s cowardly master has signed the boy up to join the army in his place, but Curzon, despite this, sincerely believes in the cause of Independency. So sincerely that he convinces Isabel to spy on the Locktons and their Loyalist compadres.

Isabel discovers several juicy bits of information, including a plot to assassinate General Washington. But she soon learns that the average Patriot only cares about liberty for white Americans. The British, meanwhile, promise to emancipate every runaway slave who helps them—provided the slave ran away from a Patriot household.

(view spoiler)[Madam Lockton learns of Isabel’s work for the Patriots and retaliates by selling Ruth. Isabel attacks the woman and finds herself jailed, tried by a kangaroo court, put in the public stocks, and branded (with the letter I for “insolent��) on one side of her face. The Patriots whom she risked everything to help do nothing for her now.

She catches a terrible fever in jail, which goes untreated until she is taken to the house of Lady Seymour, Mr. Lockton’s aunt, to recover. Lady Seymour is a kind and gentle woman, but so very traditional that it never occurs to her to help Isabel escape instead of returning her to her sadistic owners.

The British take New York, capturing much of the Continental Army. Officers are lodged comfortably enough, but common soldiers (including Curzon) are held in the bowels of the city jail, where they stay in the foulest conditions, dying of disease, malnutrition, and cold. Isabel starts visiting the jail to help Curzon, but soon finds herself delivering messages between the miserable prisoners and their captain, lodged in a much nicer prison.

Back at the Lockton house, Mr. Lockton flees the city in fear of a Patriot surge, leaving his wife behind to waste money on ball gowns and heap more cruelties on Isabel. The girl’s only ally, Lady Seymour, has suffered what we today call a stroke, and cannot help her much. (hide spoiler)]

Characters
Isabel is a deftly-rendered protagonist whom other historical fiction writers should look to. At the tender age of thirteen, she is a rock of strength. She has fine-honed problem-solving skills and sass to spare, and is unintimidated by any physical obstacle. Yet she is also firmly grounded in her time period. She doesn’t consider herself a victim or spout twenty-first century intersectional feminist talking points. She’s attracted to Curzon but has no time for romantic daydreams about him or anyone else. She believes firmly both in Jesus and in the African ancestors.

I’ll tell you more about Curzon in my review of .Forge (coming soon). He’s the protagonist and narrator of that book. Here he’s more of a supporting character—and a charming one. He starts out as a note of brevity(view spoiler)[, and then his luck changes. His suffering in the city jail is heartrending. (hide spoiler)]

Madam Lockton is a bottomless pit of hate. She’s obsessed with keeping up appearances, and trapped in a marriage to a man who’s afraid to face the Patriots but has no problem throwing her at the nearest piece of furniture. Everyone around this woman falls victim to her spleen. Her husband deserves it, but the other poor souls do not. She spends most of her time trying to break Isabel’s spirit and hoping for Lady Seymour to die already.

Sweet Lady Seymour is exemplary of a lot of white people at this time. She doesn’t like slavery personally, and is horrified by the inhumanity of her nephew and (especially) niece-in-law. She gives Isabel a place to recover from her horrifying ordeal, honors her debt to Isabel when the latter saves her from a house fire, and provides her with new clothes and shoes free of charge. She even wants to buy Isabel from her nephew. But it never occurs to her—or to many other “nice�� white people throughout the book—that the best thing any of them could do for Isabel and her sister is set them free.

Content Advisory for Parents, Teachers, Librarians, and Sensitive Kids
Violence: Isabel is often hit or punched by Madam Lockton(view spoiler)[, who also instigates the horrifying branding at the crux of the novel and locks her in a potato crate. (hide spoiler)] Prisoners in the city jail are left in their own vomit, blood, and waste—and sometimes the living have to share their cells with corpses.

Sex: Nothing.

Language: A number of epithets from the time period are used, most of which have fallen out of usage. Only one is recognizable—a different spelling of the N word.

Drugs and Booze: Madam often gets drunk, which sometimes makes her violent and sometimes makes her sleepy. Isabel once has to wait on some rowdy, plastered Hessians whose antics include blowing their noses on the tablecloth.

Conclusion
Chains is a remarkable achievement. Laurie Halse Anderson successfully immerses the reader in the world, language and customs of the eighteenth century while keeping her novel of espionage, justice, and daring as taut and thrilling and fast-paced as any James Patterson offering. Substance and style are in perfect harmony.

She also presents a nuanced view of the Revolutionary War from a perspective we tend to forget about. Slavery did not appear by dark magic a few years before the Civil War; it was a cancer our country had even before it was born. Yet Anderson doesn’t take sides. She judges each individual for themselves, rather than which George they were loyal to.

Some say this book should supplant Johnny Tremain in the school curricula, but I would argue loudly against that. Tremain is also a masterpiece, and having a white boy for a main character doesn’t invalidate it. (view spoiler)[(He’s disabled. Shouldn’t that get him some PC brownie points?) (hide spoiler)] Instead, I’d suggest both books be read as companions, providing two different perspectives and hence a balanced image of the era. Plus, they’re both excellent novels.

Chains in the first book of a trilogy. Reviews of volumes II and III, Forge and Ashes , forthcoming.