(I received a free copy of this book from Net Galley in exchange for an honest review.)

THE WORDS IN MY HAND is the reimagined true story of Helena Jans, a Dutch maid in 17th century Amsterdam, who works for Mr Sergeant the English bookseller. When a mysterious and reclusive lodger arrives - the Monsieur - Mr Sergeant insists everything must be just so. It transpires that the Monsieur is René Descartes.
This is Helena's story: the woman in front of Descartes, a young woman who yearns for knowledge, who wants to write so badly she makes ink from beetroot and writes in secret on her skin - only to be held back by her position in society.
Weaving together the story of Descartes' quest for reason with Helena's struggle for literacy, their worlds overlap as their feelings deepen; yet remain sharply divided. For all Descartes' learning, it is Helena he seeks out as she reveals the surprise in the everyday world that surrounds him.
When reputation is everything and with so much to lose, some truths must remain hidden. Helena and Descartes face a terrible tragedy and ultimately have to decide if their love is possible at all.

I really wanted to love this story - fictionalised account of a true story is something worth reading. Especially one revolving around such a significant historical figure as René Descartes.

...and the first half of the book was quite captivating. The history, the setting, the relationship between Descartes and Helena - all wonderfully told and worth the price of admission...

...and then, what? Nothing really. It was basically a re-telling of the story as history knows it...and left me wondering - why? I could have picked up a history book for that. The story itself, the thing that had me hooked, seemed to fall by the wayside for the sake of "keeping it real."

A disappointing end to a book that I thought promised so much more...


Paul
ARH