Ivy

I note that the description states that this novel is for "young adults". That "adult" word can be a catch -- it often is used to disguise the fact that the work contains naughty language, or naughty scenes. Permit me to offer a clarification: this novel contains neither. I would have no hesitation in recommending it to my grandchildren -- or, for that matter, to my fellow church members. Charles Dickens was a master of writing about the seamy underside of life in England during his lifetime. He could do it because he'd seen the inside of a debtor's prison, and met the various denizens thereof. He had a knack of fleshing them out with a kind of humanity that explains why they did what they had done. Julie Hearn appears to have caught whatever it was that Dickens had. She captures the very environment of the mid-19th century of England. I note that some have criticized this as being a negative, but I fail to see why. Wasn't Dickens a good enough writer to bear emulation? The overall lifestyle and controlling factors that motivate all the participants in this novel still existed in England at least during the years I was there, 1952 - 1958. The class structure of the society had not yielded to the Labor government, "the War" hadn't softened it edges much. I shall not dwell on the overall plot of the story, others have done that sufficiently. What I wish to emphasize is that, expecially for the younger reader, this book achieves something that writers like Walter Scott, and Alexandre Dumas did routinely. They turned off the TV set in the living room, and allowed the set in the brain take over. The detail of the scenes is as remarkable as the detail in Scott's description of the rooms in a castle in Ivanho. In addition, by carefully crafting the chapters with succinct overview sentences as headings ("In which...") I was drawn to take a little more time and a little more, and a little more. I know that "page turner" is a cliche as is "I couldn't put it down", but know what? In this case it was true. I read it in probably less time than any novel I have read in years -- because it was that readable. If I have anything negative to say about it, that would have to be the final paragraph of the epilog and the final sentence. How did the publisher's editor ever let the author get away with that? It was like being yanked back from a reverie of fantasy into an uncomfortable "real world" against my will. Dang -- That final sentence still rings in my head every time I think of the book, and not the adventures of the redoubtable Ivy. Despite that, this one has my fullest endorsement.

Ivy always stood out. If it wasn't her red curly hair, it was something else that put her at odds with those around her. At age 5, she lives with a family of con artists who would do anything for a meal of meat, but Ivy has an aversion to eating creatures. When she is rescued from the charity mongerers and offered an education, once again, she is the outcast. Among thieves, her moral conscience interferes with her ability to fit in with those who rescue her. What once started as a remedy for sleeplessness now dulls her spirit. Ivy develops an addiction to laudanum, the popular drug of nineteenth-century. When Ivy grabs the attention of the painter Oscar Aretino Frosdick, a member of the pre-Raphaelite school, the intrigue steps up several levels as the artist's jealous mother seeks to keep power over her son's life. In a style similar to Charles Dickens, Julie Hearn brings the reader right into the heart of nineteenth century England. Her use of description makes the smells, taste and touch of poverty palpable for readers. At the same time, her characters have a vibrancy and spirit that sparkles off the pages. The beneficent narrator clearly has a fondness for Ivy, and so will readers. Despite the circumstances of her life, her noble heart and inner goodness stand out from the first introduction. The use of dialect in dialogue encourages a reader to hear the voices of the time period. The dialect does not detract from the ease of reading but rather adds punch, humor and social insights. Julie Hearn gives a humorous social critique to the reader's experience of the nineteenth century class system. Julie Hearn's historical fiction takes the reader into the heart of the historical time period but at the same time, she writes a story relevant to young adults in modern times. IVY will appeal to both young adults and much older adults, like myself. She takes the best of Dickens and yet, her focus on a female protagonist expands on that beauty with her own original insight. IVY takes up a female protagonist with the same richness and depth as the nineteenth century Victorian writers gave to their heroes. Like Dickens, Julie Hearn takes the reader through all the ups and downs of fortune, but always in such a way that the reader loves and cheers for her characters. Julie Hearn's IVY is one of those classic books readers will cherish rereading.

When Ivy is born, into the poorest of poor circumstances in a 19th-century slum in London, her father predicts a life of trouble for the red-haired baby. His predictions come true after he dies and her mother leaves. Ivy must live with her aunt's shiftless, thieving family, in shabby Paradise Row. When Ivy is five years old, her cousin Jared attempts to swindle money out of Mrs. Merrifield and Mrs. Larrington of the Ragged Children's Welfare Association. The welfare ladies not only give the family money, but they insist on placing Ivy and her cousin Orlando in a school. Ivy's aunt and uncle are quite unimpressed with the notion of an education for the two children --- until they hear there's a lunch involved. Ivy herself does not care to go to school, but she is resigned. However, on the first day of class, the little girl not only has to stand in a corner, she ends up urinating there. But the worst part turns out to be bacon in the cabbage soup. Ivy does not, will not and cannot eat meat. She runs away from school, only to get lost on London's streets. Ivy knows to look for a "bluebottle" (policeman) to direct her back to Paradise Row. Meanwhile, she is starving and nearly crying as she trots along. Then she notices a very tall lady staring at her. Ivy feels a kinship with the stranger since they both have red hair. When the woman, who introduces herself as Carroty Kate, offers to share her orange, Ivy not only eats the fruit but she lets Kate take the boots that the welfare ladies gave her to wear to school. As it happens, Kate is a thief, specializing in stealing children's clothing to resell. She has no intention of helping Ivy until a passing woman holding a child's hand smiles upon them in an "I know how it is" manner. Kate realizes that she can use Ivy to scam people. She takes her home to a lodging house that is crammed full of colorful scoundrels but is also strangely cozy. Kate's feller, Fing, adds to the ambience by cooking up humble yet tasty food. Ivy enjoys living with Kate, for the most part. But she is appalled when Kate takes her out to "earn her keep," which involves tricking a little girl out of her stylish and expensive clothes. She also hates sleeping in the cupboard, which has been painted with a creepy design that gives Ivy nightmares. To quell her night-time screams, Kate begins giving her drops of laudanum, the quite available opium syrup taken by many people for nerves and insomnia...or whatever might ail a person. By the time Ivy returns to her aunt and uncle, she is addicted. Her laudanum dependency continues into her teen years, rendering her sluggish and sleepy. Yet she is striking, with her red hair, pale skin and hazel eyes. When artist Oscar Frosdick spies her, he persuades her to model for him. Unfortunately, this displaces his former model, his mother --- who takes murderous offense. Julie Hearn --- author of THE MINISTER'S DAUGHTER and SIGN OF THE RAVEN --- transports readers smack-dab into the grit

Ivy has never had a good life. When she was young, her father died and her mother abandoned her. Her aunt and uncle that took her in weren't too kind either, and she was constantly mocked by her female cousins and beat by her cousin Jared. She's humiliated and punished when sent to school, so she runs away, only to join a band of thieves who start her laudanum addiction. As she grows older though, her fiery locks catch the eye of an artist, and she becomes his model. Yet problems persist in the form of a jealous mother, a familiar band of thieves, a controlling cousin, a drug addiction, and a realization that modeling can be a painful experience. Ivy was an enjoyable historical novel even though the story had it peculiarities. For example, Ivy had an aversion to eating meat, which is never completely explained but probably has something to do with her love for all animals. The motives of several characters were often befuddled and unclear, and Ivy was the only well-developed character, although I didn't like how she was always at the mercy of others and rarely made decisions for herself. Despite its drawbacks, Ivy's journey from thievery to a respectable occupation was fascinating in the context of nineteenth-century British society. It was the historical angle and thievery that drew me in, and I'm glad I read this novel. Ivy was a sort of combination between Elizabeth Scott's Stealing Heaven with the thievery aspect, Anna Godbersen's The Luxe with high society and fashion, Jennifer Donnelly's A Northern Light in respect to the role of women, and Christine Fletcher's Ten Cents a Dance in regard to addictions, the last three also being historical novels. I do recommend this novel to fans of historical fiction, but want against some confusion that may occur while reading this novel. [...]