The Truth Seekers by Elizabeth M. Lawrence
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
As a self-proclaimed bibliophile, I’ve always enjoyed a variety of books. In my lifetime, I’ve read, and enjoyed mind you, many of the greats: Shakespeare, Poe, D. H. Lawrence, Austen, and Hawthorne, to name a few. Dickens was always a little tedious for me, to be honest. Of course, I’ve enjoyed the more modern writers such as King, Stephen Donaldson, Diana Gabaldon, and Anne Rice, as well. The point I’m trying to make is that I have an appreciation for the written word, and when I sat down with Elizabeth Lawrence’s The Truth Seekers, it didn’t take long to realize another great was in my hands.
How often does a reviewer find themselves having to Google information before penning their review? This is the level that Lawrence took me to with her novel. The whole time I was reading about Geoffrey Hawes and Miss Miranda Claridge, there was something that was eluding me. Victorian romances I’d read in the past were always enjoyable, but there was something . . . more . . . about The Truth Seekers. Something that resonated within and told me how unique this modern day offering of a style gone by was. Then it hit me with the power of this passage:
For one long moment, he was paralyzed by his complete astonishment. Then, in a sudden surge of activity, he was on his feet and running. He burst out onto the street, his lungs heaving in great, greedy gusts of air as he dashed past tourists and street vendors, heedless of the cries of irritation that followed his mad, careening flight. His relentless pace was that of a desperate man whose last opportunity for salvation was about to slip through his fingers as he raced up the steps of Miranda’s lodging house and beat upon the door. He was at first unable to make himself understood by the answering servant, and the delay caused by this miscommunication was agony to him. At last he ascertained Miranda’s whereabouts and charged up the stairs to her rooms without any thought for the propriety of his behavior. He flung her door open, not bothering to knock, and it crashed open with a thunderous reverberation. ~The Truth Seekers
While the hero’s point of view is common enough in modern day romances, it was not the norm for that period in history. I googled it; because I started second guessing myself! What a bold and brilliant move by Lawrence.
From the first page the reader is sucked into Geoffrey’s head; we get to experience all the turmoil of his forward thinking beliefs (always the way with eccentric novelists) and how they almost become his downfall. Through his eyes, Miranda Claridge is seen much like a morning glory: so fragile, yet so full of life and glorious as she opens to the possibilities each new day brings, then withering and closing under the extreme heat of the afternoon, i.e. Society.
I could continue to elucidate how wonderful this novel is. Allow me, instead, to suggest that if you have even the slightest fondness for a well-told romance that will leave you guessing until the end if the ‘guy gets the girl,’ then don’t wait. The Truth Seekers is a modern day masterpiece which will win you over faster than a suitor come calling, and one that I will proudly display next to my cherished copies of Wuthering Heights, Jane Eyre, and The Stand.
Bravo, Ms. Lawrence. Bravo.
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
As a self-proclaimed bibliophile, I’ve always enjoyed a variety of books. In my lifetime, I’ve read, and enjoyed mind you, many of the greats: Shakespeare, Poe, D. H. Lawrence, Austen, and Hawthorne, to name a few. Dickens was always a little tedious for me, to be honest. Of course, I’ve enjoyed the more modern writers such as King, Stephen Donaldson, Diana Gabaldon, and Anne Rice, as well. The point I’m trying to make is that I have an appreciation for the written word, and when I sat down with Elizabeth Lawrence’s The Truth Seekers, it didn’t take long to realize another great was in my hands.
How often does a reviewer find themselves having to Google information before penning their review? This is the level that Lawrence took me to with her novel. The whole time I was reading about Geoffrey Hawes and Miss Miranda Claridge, there was something that was eluding me. Victorian romances I’d read in the past were always enjoyable, but there was something . . . more . . . about The Truth Seekers. Something that resonated within and told me how unique this modern day offering of a style gone by was. Then it hit me with the power of this passage:
For one long moment, he was paralyzed by his complete astonishment. Then, in a sudden surge of activity, he was on his feet and running. He burst out onto the street, his lungs heaving in great, greedy gusts of air as he dashed past tourists and street vendors, heedless of the cries of irritation that followed his mad, careening flight. His relentless pace was that of a desperate man whose last opportunity for salvation was about to slip through his fingers as he raced up the steps of Miranda’s lodging house and beat upon the door. He was at first unable to make himself understood by the answering servant, and the delay caused by this miscommunication was agony to him. At last he ascertained Miranda’s whereabouts and charged up the stairs to her rooms without any thought for the propriety of his behavior. He flung her door open, not bothering to knock, and it crashed open with a thunderous reverberation. ~The Truth Seekers
While the hero’s point of view is common enough in modern day romances, it was not the norm for that period in history. I googled it; because I started second guessing myself! What a bold and brilliant move by Lawrence.
From the first page the reader is sucked into Geoffrey’s head; we get to experience all the turmoil of his forward thinking beliefs (always the way with eccentric novelists) and how they almost become his downfall. Through his eyes, Miranda Claridge is seen much like a morning glory: so fragile, yet so full of life and glorious as she opens to the possibilities each new day brings, then withering and closing under the extreme heat of the afternoon, i.e. Society.
I could continue to elucidate how wonderful this novel is. Allow me, instead, to suggest that if you have even the slightest fondness for a well-told romance that will leave you guessing until the end if the ‘guy gets the girl,’ then don’t wait. The Truth Seekers is a modern day masterpiece which will win you over faster than a suitor come calling, and one that I will proudly display next to my cherished copies of Wuthering Heights, Jane Eyre, and The Stand.
Bravo, Ms. Lawrence. Bravo.