First Light

First Light by Peter Ackroyd. Grove Press. Copyright, 1989. 328 pages. ...Once there were creatures of light leaping across the firmament, and the pattern of their movement filled the heavens. But the creatures soon fled and in their place appeared great spheres of crystals which turned within each other, their song vibrating through all the strings of the world....Aldebaran...the great star.... One hundred and twenty times brighter than the sun....In this same area of the sky...small cones of light, called the Hyades and believed to be at a greater distance from the earth--cool red stars glowing within the clouds of gas which swirled about them. And close to them the lights known as the Pleiades, involved in a blue nebulosity which seemed to stick against each star, the strands and filaments of its blue light smeared across the endless darkness. Behind these clusters they could see the vast Crab Nebula, so far from the earth that from this distance it was no more than a mist or a cloud.... Galaxies. Nebulae. Wandering planets. Rotating discs. Glowing interstellar debris. Spirals. Strands of brightness that contained millions of suns. Darkness like thick brush-strokes across a painted surface. Pale moons. Pulses of light. All these coming from the past, ghost images wreathed in mist.... I am on a storm-tossed boat out at sea, the dark waves around me. This was what the earliest men saw in the skies above them.... A hundred thousand million galaxies. A hundred thousand million stars in each one. The above quote came from Page 1 of this amazing book. It's probably the best first chapter I've ever read. The reader is immediately sucked into this awestruck world that acknowledges the vastness of the cosmos, its by-product of cosmic energy, and the enveloping cosmic consciousness that is inherent in every aspect of creation under heaven and earth. It's a story about prehistoric men and their quest to understand the cosmology of the night sky and to question why they are here on planet earth. It's a tale about ancient mankind forging customs and folklore from their understanding about the meaning & origins of life and sharing their knowledge with future generations. The early mythology begins 3500 years ago, when ancient man looked up at the firmament of heavens and dared wondered the meaning of their existence. Man saw stars as fire torches burning brightly the memory of all that came before them between the dark spaces of the universe where somewhere beyond the sight and knowledge of mankind, lay portals to our origins where we return to at the time of death. Page 328 describes it this way: ... Our bodies are made out of dead stars. We carry their light inside us. So everything goes back. Everything is part of a pattern. We carry our origin within us, and we can never rest until we have returned. Mark Clare is an archeologist that stumbles across an underground tumulus in Dorset, England at Pilgrin Valley.

This is not a scary book - unless you scare very easily. Neither is it a book with a lot of suspense - you'll see stuff coming from way off. It is, though, a story about people put together into an unusual setting - and that's a very good story. We have an archeological dig near a small town populated by some 'interesting' folks, including the extensive Mint clan. There's more going on with the dig than the finding of artifacts. The outsiders who come to this country setting are confronted with life-changing situations - and some handle them better than others. Ackroyd has (again) given us a plot that is easy to follow but deeper than it seems. It's also very, very funny. Add this one to your books to be read.

I was not sure what to expect when I picked up this book. The story begins in the present but it is the past that guides and carries us along. Whimsical, darkly humored, mysterious and rambling - an excellent literary work.The book connects the star Aldebaran with the tomb of an ancient Neolithic race whose ancestors continue to guard the tomb to this day. The Mints, the family that has served as watchers for this hole in the ground, still maintain a close watch. It is too much to give away the plot but needless to say it is all tied up in the end and involves primitive ritual, a casket and a long buried secret. Beautiful writing that is as mesmerizing as it is flawless.

In this, his latest novel Peter Ackroyd returns to a by now fascinating theme of original forms and repeating patterns in which the individual holds but a brief tenure before relinquishment to the next generation in human kinship. This novel develops a much-loved theme of awe and inspiration in the workings of a tale of ancient beings, cosmic forces, love and madness. To reiterate, repeated patterns over time form a familiar concept to Ackroyd admirers, and can be found in his earlier works, such as Hawksmoor. Where First Light differs from the latter is in the move away from an ancient, pervasive if imperfect evil, depicted in the most sinister way through human sacrifice, as embodied by the fate of Little St Hugh. First Light offers a juxtaposition to the vacuum of evil in Hawksmoor and sacrifice in this latest novel is portrayed in various forms as part of a general, metaphysical good. In comparing Ackroyd's novels, it is worth mentioning the music hall motif, which stands as a literal backdrop to chilling murder in (UK edition) Dan Leno and the Limehouse Golem, known to USA readers as the less successfully entitled The Trial of Elizabeth Cree etc. Here the music hall is brilliantly reintroduced into this novel as a glorious celebration of poignant and hilarious bathos, with the reminder that its absurd and often grotesque characterisation is more often eclipsed by the antics and eccentricities of the so-called 'ordinary person'. Peter Ackroyd's reputation as an exceptional author whose ability to weave a powerful and haunting tale hardly requires further testimony. Ackroyd however, always demands a good deal of work by the reader and is not in the business of providing glib answers and conclusions. There is always far more to his novels than can be found by a desire for the easy gratification of titillated curiosity and consequently any criticism of his ability as 'whodunit' manque, completely miss the mark