HISTORICAL FICTION: "Poldark: Ross Poldark" by Winston Graham

STORYTELLING: 4/5

WRITING STYLE: 4/5

THEMES/MESSAGE: 3/5

CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT: 5/5

IMPACT/ENGAGEMENT: 4/5

Total Grade: B- (80%)

“In lust there is always conquest and destruction,” (205). 

While my reading of the book was greatly altered by my having watched the BBC Masterpiece Classic adaptation, this first book “Poldark: Ross Poldark” lived up to my expectations, and reacquainted me with characters I already knew and loved. As odd as it sounds, reading this after watching the show was almost like reading a story about your parents in their youth. The language was accessible yet thoughtful, and dipped into that historical fiction tone so popular in the 1940s. Steady and consistent, I was very much entrenched in Cornwall society, in the late 18th century, in the accents, in the domesticity of the Poldark households, and also in the relationships between all the characters. 

I went into the story focused mainly on two people (Demelza and Ross), and often found myself frustrated by the fact that we were stuck on a four page spread about mining and bargaining, or on the whole poaching fiasco with Jim, Jinny, and Nick, not to mention the monstrous Reuben who, I’ll admit, brought some excitement to the story, be it the fearful kind. It was in these moments when the accents were thick and the characters seemed inconsequential that I would ask myself ‘Why did Graham care to write this in? Why is this so important?’ And the answer that I came to accept was that these moments and these characters painted a broader and more inclusive picture of Cornwall. It was the day to day, the reality of poverty and a clear depiction of relationship contrasts between the upper and lower classes, which is especially poignant considering our main character, Ross, a gentleman, decides to wed his kitchen maid, Demelza. 

Ross, as a character, is fairly enigmatic and lovable. One minute he’s angry, the next minute he’s considerate and contemplative. One minute he is entirely devoted to the idea of getting Elizabeth back, the next he’s marrying his servant and showing her off at a Christmas party. I think his nature surprises him just as much as it surprises the reader at times. He is rough around the edges, jaded by his recent dealings in the American Revolutionary War (of which he  was not on the winning side), and hardened by the recent loss of his father. To add insult to injury, upon returning home he discovers his first love, Elizabeth, is engaged to his cousin, Francis. His other cousin, Verity, offers him as much comfort as a friend could at the time. 

Verity ended up being one of my favorite characters. While regarded as rather plain and frizzy, she is kind hearted and self-sacrificing, two qualities that, in my eyes, matter a great deal and yet are often overlooked, be it in reality or in books. She adds such a gentle touch to the story and I loved just about every scene in which she was present. 

Demelza is a favorite, too, and so close to my heart for so many reasons. A boyish, emaciated child of thirteen at the start of the book, she blooms over the three time segments by which the book is organized, becoming a wild young woman, as bright and lively as the flowers she picks each day. She is down to earth, untamed, intelligent, caring, and stubborn, and proves to be quite a fitting match for Ross. The gossips in town, though conniving and snobbish in their efforts, may have predicted a perfect match before the couple did. Or perhaps it was because she was pretty, and seventeen year old kitchen maids, when left unmarried, prove to be just as enticing as any lady a gentleman may come across in genteel society. 

Demelza vs Elizabeth (two quotes and the bluebells)

I refuse to take the stereotypical feminist approach when it comes to this love triangle. Competition does in fact exist between females, and the females in this story do not become shallow or frilly or stupid in acknowledging this, or in their feeling affected by it. There are several times throughout the book when the two women are being compared and always in the same fashion, with Elizabeth playing the role of the seraphic being flying high above all manner of humanity. She’s perfect in the eyes of nearly every character. The perfect lady is fair, youthful and rosy (even after childbirth), and dainty. Annoyingly dainty, if you ask me. She barely touches her food whenever she eats, she’s frail and always says things that are just promiscuous enough to cause Ross to reach back into the past and reminisce on the childlike romance they once shared. While I find Elizabeth immensely more infuriating in the tv series than I do in the book, she has a way of filling me with the purest rage, so much so that she has rightfully earned herself a space on my character dunzo list. (This is a list of characters that I would kill on-site if I ever met them face to face, and they are as follows: Edward Cullen, Logan Huntzberger, Elizabeth Poldark). 

Then in comes Demelza. She’s always described in relation to the earth or to nature, to wildness, reality, hardship, strength, perseverance, darkness and mischief. Here are a few quotes that might illustrate my point a bit better: 

“Two women, he thought. Made of the same substance? Earthenware and porcelain,” (280).

“Contrast with Elizabeth: gone was the halo and in its place the dark crown of humanity,” (365).

There was a conversation between the two women about bluebells. Through symbolism and perverse display of passivity, Elizabeth seems to intentionally slight Demelza, expressing to her the fickleness of beauty especially when it is wild and free, easily picked up and stowed away. Elizabeth is feeding into the unfounded (well, nearly unfounded) rumours that Demelza is a slut and to Ross’s benefit. So, all in all, I love Demelza and Elizabeth is rude and I’ll despise her forever. 

“I am happy, he thought again. Something is happening to me, to us, transmuting our shabby little love affair. Keep this mood, hold on to it. No slipping back,” (299). 

The moments shared between Demelza and Ross are tender and humorous, leading up to and following their marriage. And looking past my hatred of Elizabeth, the reason I think the two are so well matched is because she understands the harshness of reality, as does Ross. Before he’d gone to war, he was enamored by fanciful ideas of travel with a pretty little wife to adore him. But after the war, he is disenchanted by shows of propriety, false emotions, and any form of inauthenticity, having witnessed the depravity and animalism that exists within all men. Fuss and feathers no longer have the same effect, which is why he chooses Demelza. She’s been beaten down, starved, neglected. She understands and has survived the underbelly of humanity. She’s had to be independent and strong, relying on her wits, just like Ross. They are both stubborn yet kind hearted, fierce in their emotions and decisions, and one of my favorite literary couples by far. There’s a nobility about Ross, in character rather than in rank, that attracts Demelza. He cares little for class and other invented notions and practices of his society. He is someone people look up to, including those of her class, and she admires him for his mind and his heart. 

It was a quick read and I’d recommend it to anyone, especially if one enjoys character driven narratives. Still, I’m at odds as to whether I should continue reading the series. Is it worth the trouble when everything is so lovely and peaceful and perfect right now?