The Heretic's Daughter: Kathleen Kent

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I remember my grandmother telling me a story about a woman in her village who was apparently possessed. She remembers seeing (or hearing about, I am not sure which) this woman speaking in a man’s voice when she went into a trance. And then, the village shaman was summoned who advised that she be taken to a temple specially meant for such cases. There she had to drive a nail into an oak tree with the force of her head. Miraculously, she appeared sober afterward and there were no injuries to speak of. The damage was not to her person, but to her reputation as the villagers shunned her and there was talk of the Devil’s presence.

A similar story unfolds in Kathleen Kent’s The Heretic’s Daughter. Told from the viewpoint of Sarah, who is just around nine years old, The Heretic’s Daughter chronicles a slice of the famous Salem Witch Trials that took place in Salem, Massachusetts in the 17th century. Accused of being a witch and arbitrarily tried, Martha Carrier, Sarah’s mother is condemned to die but Sarah and her brothers must save their own lives. And live to tell the tale.

For me, what made this book further fascinating was the fact that Martha Carrier was a real woman and Kent’s own ancestor at that. Although, the central theme of the book is about the witch trials, there are a lot of other windows that are opened to let in a vision of life in a small town about three centuries back. The book opens with the ravages of small pox that is taking its toll on many lives. When Sarah and her family shift to a new town, the inhabitants give them a frosty welcome. As her brother falls victim to the plague Sarah and her younger sister, who is barely a year old, is sent to live in quarantine with their aunt where she develops a lifelong, deep friendship with her cousin Margaret. When Sarah returns she finds that she is more at odds with her mother than ever.

Nevertheless, Sarah’s perception of her mother soon changes. The town residents are soon whipped up into hysteria with reports of supernatural occurrences, especially in nearby Salem. And when this frenzy swirls around her mother, Sarah discovers that now she has to become the support for the family. Especially, when her mother entrusts her with a red book, which she is to read ‘when she comes of age.’

As you can see, Kent has touched upon every possible ingredient that can serve up a well-rounded book – friendship, relationships, crisis, secrets. For the first 150 pages or so, it is extremely slow progress. Kent constructs a picture of Sarah’s strained relationship with her mother and her friendship with Margaret bordered by the chilling reports of things to come. It is only after 200 pages that the real action begins. Her mother refuses to spout falsities to save her life due to which she is imprisoned.

“I believe many of us would peel ourselves away from our immoral selves as easily as the skin from a boiled plum if it meant we could remain on the earth for a while, our bellies full and our beds warm and safe at night. My mother would not and she would pay the price for her resolve. She was too singular, too outspoken, too defiant against her judges, in defense of her innocence, and it was for this, more than for proof of witchcraft, that she was being punished.”

What follows then is an account of the tough life in Salem jail as a crazed public baying for blood forces the arrest of many men and women, including Sarah herself along with other family members. This is where some of the most touching moments of the book are given life in the wonderful and lucid language that is the hallmark of the entire book. The language enhances beautiful descriptions of seasons and nature, which makes for some wonderful reading,

“In early autumn, there comes a cooling at night. The fireflies, their mating done, danced crazily about the fields, much knowing that a black wind is soon to come to kiss them with an unremembered death. There was ample rain, and at dawn the garden mists yielded crops of pumpkins, turnips and onions. The lentil pods swelled and spilled their seeds over the ground. Bunches of purslane grew close by, their reddish stems and yellow flowers showing like the sun against the drab gray of the house.”

My only reservation is that Kent takes too long to come to the trials. More importantly, we never know if Sarah’s mother ever practiced “witchcraft.” There is no evidence and yet there are hints that are dropped, which we must understand at our own discretion. This remains a mystery. However she more than makes up for this lacuna with sketches of the acrid reactions of the people stemming from their extremely religious belief that anything that goes wrong in their lives is due to the presence of the Devil. Towards the end, we are left with a feeling of sadness at the sheer waste of lives and energy due to pure illogical mass madness. I shut the book, feeling a bit unsettled. Imagine if we had a story about our immediate ancestors to tell, such as this?

Verdict: Well drawn picture of 17th century America

Rating: 3.2/5