Always game for a novel set during and around the events of the American Civil War, I didn’t have to read too far into the description of Susan Rivers’ soon-to-be-released The Second Mrs. Hockaday before I knew I wanted to read it. I didn’t think much of the fact that the novel promised to tell the story in question through letters, journal entries, and inquest papers—it actually would have made it more appealing because telling a story through such limited means can lead to particularly creative story-telling. In the case of The Second Mrs. Hockaday however, I think these narrative conventions fail to live up to that potential and ultimately rob the story of some of its natural tension.

Placidia Fincher Hockaday met her husband the day of her step-sister’s wedding and married him the next day when she was but seventeen years old. A widower with an infant son, Major Gryffth Hockaday and his new bride didn’t have much time to themselves before he was called back to the Confederate front lines by his commanders. For the remaining two years the war lasted, they were separated with Placidia running his farm, raising his son, and commanding his slaves. When he returned at the end of the war, he discovered that there were scandalous rumors about just what his wife had been up to in his absence—and with whom. Decades later, the Hockaday children—having buried their parents—begin to uncover their mother’s secrets from those two years, what drove a wedge between their parents, and what brought the couple back together again in the end.

While the letters, journal entires, and inquest papers prove to be a unique approach to telling this particular story, for me they failed to live up to their potential and the story as a whole suffered as a result. Letters and journal entries in particular can be remarkable ways to establish characters and their voices for the reader but—as is too often the case—the need to provide exposition for the reader becomes a tricky sticking point. The book reader rather than the character the letter is addressed to takes precedence and so the letters themselves lose much of what they could and should be in order to maintain the suspension of disbelief; it simply doesn’t make sense for Placidia writing to her cousin, Mildred, whom she grew up with and who is more like her sister to be explaining things like the various relationships between her and her step-family because Mildred was there and would already know. Similarly, the journal entries diverge too much into what feels like more of a third person narrative of events; in the later letters between the Hockaday children when they refer to their parents using their first names and other titles in ways that just don’t feel genuine, in part because they are used so inconsistently. Instead of establishing distinctive characters’ voices and styles, they feel too similar in their approaches. They all have the same habit of using literary and classical imagery in their metaphors while simultaneously feeling the need to then explain the symbolism behind it (which are obviously for the book reader’s benefit but also show a lack of faith in those readers’ and either their prior knowledge or ability to look up a reference they don’t immediately know).

Aside from the ways that the narrative format tends to collapse in on itself, it also prevents the events at the heart of the novel—a painful misunderstanding, separation, and reconciliation between Placidia and Gryffth upon his return from the war—from being directly addressed until the end of the novel. There is so much talking around specific events that they failed to live up to the characters’ hype. When the younger Hockadays begin looking into their parents’ past, there are so many dire warnings given to them by their aunt (the same cousin Mildred) despite the fact that she admits to not knowing the whole story herself. When the younger son, Charlie, learns the whole truth it temporarily shatters his sense of self and sets him off on an entirely different path in life. But when the reader finally learns the whole truth, it’s a bit anticlimactic; there were only so many things that could have happened and only so many people who might have been involved.

Though the final journal entires are touching, I can’t help but feel that the novel misses its own point. There’s so much emphasis placed on this horrible thing that happened and nearly destroyed this couple it leaves their descendents wondering how they ever could have survived it… but there is so little of the actual healing that it leaves the story feeling incomplete. There are also a number of aspects that feel underdeveloped—or that were really only dropped in to serve as red herrings, distractions. So while I do feel like the underlying story was worth telling, I think a more traditional narrative convention would have served the story better.

The Second Mrs. Hockaday will be available for purchase January 10, 2017.

I enjoyed "The Second Mrs. Hockaday" by Susan Rivers. Though it took me a little while to get into the rhythm of reading letters as the narrative unfolds, the rich & personal history shared throughout the story is well crafted & thought provoking. It's an extraordinary tale, and I'm so glad she re-created Mrs. Hockaday's experience in order to share it with readers and provide perspective into such a difficult time in our country's history. Well worth the read!

My first reaction upon finishing The Second Mrs Hockaday was stunned silence immediately followed by a powerful sense of loss. Placidia's story so entranced me that it took me several hours to mourn the fact that I had finished it. The silence came about because her story was so powerful it swept me into her world and made me forget my own. It has been a long time since any novel has made me feel this way.

Susan Rivers' second novel is the epitome of exemplary use of the epistolary literary format and stellar writing. Through the use of personal correspondence, diary entries, and legal documents, Ms. Rivers not only tells Placidia's tragic story but recreates the South at the end of the Civil War with vivid clarity. Each document has a distinct voice that adds to the story as much as their words do. Other than the inquest documents, the letters are so natural and honest that it is all too easy to get sucked into reading just one more letter, and one more, and yet one more. The Second Mrs Hockaday is the perfect example of an unputdownable novel.

I really enjoyed this book, and I know it seems as if I say that a lot, but it had a certain je ne sais quoi. In my defence I do have a nose for picking good reads and in general authors seem to have upped the ante just a wee bit.

Placidia, also known as Dia throughout the book, is the main character and the entire story evolves around a traumatic event that happens to her. Rivers has actually based the story on a true event, which took place during the same era. The birth, death and burial of a baby born to a woman of good social standing, during a time when her husband was at war. He was also at war during the conception of said child, hence his automatic response on his return being a trip to the local magistrate to report his wife. She was arrested and put on trial.

Rivers has taken that particular moment in time and turned it into a wonderful and captivating read.

Often when authors use correspondence to move a story along it doesn’t work. In this case it is exactly the right way to have the characters interact, despite not being in the same vicinity of one another.

The only negative for me was when the story and correspondence leapt nearly 30 years ahead. I had to go back and re-read more than once to understand why there was a jump from Dia to a new character. It wasn’t until I looked closer at the dates on the letters or correspondence that I noticed the huge leap in the dates.

I enjoyed the way the author kept the tone and voice of the story entirely as era accurate as possible. Of course that includes slavery and the treatment of men, women and children who fell into those brackets. For example there is a sexual assault at the very beginning, which is merely noted as a small incident due to the dirt on the knees of the white man in question. No outrage, no mention, just an overall acceptance of this tragic status quo. Throughout the story this treatment of slaves as chattel or animals is noted merely as normal and part of society.

In a really subtle way Rivers points out both the parallels and the paradox between the treatment of slaves and white women when it came to being treated as a sub-species in the eyes of white men. This includes domestic abuse and sexual violence. It’s rather ironic that white women, and indeed even Dia, do not recognise the similarities between all of them.

The reality and horror of war is woven into the fabric of the story and the steady but achingly slow advancement of civil rights, all while this personal family drama and heartache plays out. As I said I really enjoyed the read.
*Thank you to the pub;isher and NetGalley for my copy of The Second Mrs Hockaday.*

Placidia only knew her future husband for 48 hours before she married him. They met when he bought a mule from her father and fell in fascination (if not love) dancing at her step-sister’s wedding. But the new Mrs. Hockaday is separated from her new husband when he is summoned back to Stonewall Jackson’s regiment two days after the wedding. They two of them remain apart until the end of the Civil War. The Second Mrs. Hockaday, by Susan Rivers, is told in letters and documents as others try to figure out what happened during the Hockadays’ separation, Placidia’s trial for infanticide, and the aftermath.

The Second Mrs. Hockaday is divided into parts that span 30 years of family history. The first part is a series of letters between Placidia and her relative, Mildred. Placidia is in jail, awaiting trial for supposedly killing the child she conceived a bore while Major Hockaday was at war. Placidia infuriates her cousin by talking around what happened, avoiding all direct questions. She tells Mildred about how she and the Major met, their rapid marriage, and their farewell. Just before the trial is about to begin, the novel jumps ahead from 1865 to 1892. Placidia’s son, Achilles, is told by the Major to destroy Placidia’s papers and the diary she kept on the illustration pages of a copy of David Copperfield.

The Hockadays might have been an ordinary loving couple if it hadn’t been for timing and setting. They live in rural South Carolina, which was overrun with deserters and bandits while most of the men were fighting in the Confederate Army. While the Major fights in huge battles at Chancellorsville and Gettysburg, seeing all the horrors of the Civil War, Placidia has to deal with floods, the aforementioned deserters and bandits, and a disintegrating way of life. Rivers doesn’t make the mistake of writing southerners with modern sensibilities about slavery. The Hockadays do own slaves. The Major is a Confederate. But it’s hard not to sympathize with these characters, even without their lightning strike love for each other.

I wasn’t sure what to think of Placidia after the first part. She doesn’t deny having a child and that the child died. It’s clear, however, that she’s protecting someone or several someones. It takes Achilles’ later efforts and the diary to put it all together. By the end, I deeply admired Placidia’s strength and love of family. What begins as a sinister mystery becomes a moving story of a woman and a man trying to make peace with violence and love. Both characters suffer from what we would now call post-traumatic stress syndrome, but in a time when men were expected to be soldiers without complaint and women were expected to be reputable above all else. I very much enjoyed this book. The books that can surprise me are always a joy to read.

I received a free copy of this book from NetGalley for review consideration. It will be released 10 January 2017.

Historical fiction told through letters, journals and court documents which I enjoy even though the flipping back and forth between characters and time periods was confusing at times. Sometimes brutal in its telling, the story revolves around a young civil war bride and the mystery surrounding a dead baby. Beautifully written.

17-year-old Placidia has barely met Major Gryffth Hockaday when she agrees to marry him. Leaving her childhood home behind, she travels with her new husband to the farm that is her new home, and meets her infant step-son for the first time. Placidia and Gryffth have two brief days together as husband and wife before he must return to fight in the Civil War. Young Placidia is left to care for her new child in her new home, and is ill-prepared for either task. Despite the weight of so much responsibility on her shoulders, Placidia adapts as best she can, and longs for the day her husband will come home to her.

When Gryffth returns two years later, he is shocked to hear his wife recently gave birth to a baby, and has been accused of killing the child. Despite Gryffth (and others) demanding to know who fathered the child, Placidia refuses to name him, though her reasons for remaining mute are a mystery.

The story is told in a series of letters written by Placidia and others, as well as diary entries. That may be off-putting to some readers, but being told in an unconventional way didn't harm the narrative in the least. It won't work for every story, but I felt it worked beautifully for this one.

WHAT I LIKED:

The secrets. There are layers of secrets in this story, and two big ones caught me by surprise when they were revealed. I'm always delighted when a secret is revealed that I never even came close to guessing, and that was the case with these particular secrets.
The history. We weren't given a blow-by-blow of every single battle/skirmish during Gryffth's two year absence, but that's a good thing, as it wouldn't have fit in this story. Instead, we got just enough to remember that Gryffth was off fighting in the war somewhere

Stayed true to the time period. There's nothing more infuriating for me than reading something that's out of place (or rather, time) in historical novels. Luckily, that wasn't the case here—the clothing, the language, social mores—everything was as it should be.

WHAT I DIDN'T LIKE:

Please, can I have some more? I would have liked a bit more story dealing with Placidia's step-mother and step-sister, and perhaps Achilles, as well. But I suppose that's mostly because the characters were interesting to me, not because their storylines were lacking in some way.

FINAL THOUGHTS:

Rivers debut is well worth the read. Replete with engaging characters, intense drama, and stunning plot twists, it's an excellent novel to curl up with on a cold winter's day.