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1617. Norway. A group of women stand, bracing the harsh winds of a sudden storm, as they stare out at sea and watch the broken bodies of their men fling themselves to shore. The only males now left in their society are the very young or the very old; those who did not brave the fickle beast called nature and lose. They are isolated and must rely on themselves and each other if they are to survive the brutal land they call home.

A year passes but grief still lies thick upon their skin. The women have taken up their former roles as well as those of the men they lost but have not forgotten. But this is not the Christian way. And the so-called messengers of Him will ensure they pay for their transgressions.

Although told through fictional characters, The Mercies relays the very real story of the Vardø storm and the subsequent 1621 witch trials. The fear of the other looms like a distant storm cloud, throughout the entire narrative, closing in as the story breaks, with horror, sorrow and the despicable acts inflicted by humans to each other, along with it.

This tale was largely a slow-moving one. It is told through a series of subtle glances and the brush of skin upon skin. It relays a history of people, a culture losing its grip to religion, and the dark deeds of man through quiet interactions and long silences. I got to know the women of this community before I grew to know their so-called sins. And this was largely the point of the book.

Females dominate this community and the novel, and yet they are never the ones who are the deciders of their own future fates. They are never the ones who have dominion over their community, their land, or even their bodies. One male presence is enough to dispel any illusions of this. For to be born male is to be born with power, and to be born powerful is to learn how to abuse it.

I received a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review. Thank you to the author, Kiran Millwood Hargrave, and the publisher, Pan Macmillan, for this opportunity.