This
book was given to me by a friend because she knows of my interest in books set
in The Netherlands. It received a lot of
hype, when it was first published, but for some reason I never got around to
reading it until now. Unfortunately, as
is often the case with books receiving such extravagant promotion, it falls
short.
In 1686
Amsterdam, eighteen-year-old Nella finds herself married to a wealthy merchant,
Johannes Brandt, who is twice her age. She
finds herself in a secretive household dominated by Marin, her stern and cold
sister-in-law. Though Johannes treats
Nella kindly, she barely sees him and the marriage is not consummated. As a distraction, he gives her a gift of a doll
house which is a replica of their house.
She commissions objects from a miniaturist to fill the house, but then
unsolicited objects arrive, objects which suggest a familiarity with the
household and its occupants.
There
are several mysteries which preoccupy Nella:
What are the secrets Johannes and Marin work so strenuously to
hide? How does the miniaturist know so
much about her, especially when sometimes the objects she sends seem
prophetic? Why does Johannes spend so
little time at home and show little interest in having an heir?
The book
examines the restricted position of women in 17th-century Calvinist
Amsterdam. Nella’s mother tells her daughter
that she needs to marry because “’Life’s hard if you’re not a wife.’” When Nella asks what she has to give to a husband,
her mother replies, “’Look at you. What
else do we women have?’” Marin, sounding
like a feminist, rails about women performing “’backbreaking work, for which
they won’t even pay us half of what a man could earn. But we can’t own property, we can’t take a
case to the court. The only thing they
think we can do is to produce children who then become the property of our
husbands.’” And then there’s the church
preaching: “’women, be obedient, for all
that is holy and good. Keep your houses
clean, and your souls will follow suit!’”
The
problem is that Nella ends up not behaving like a 17th-century
country girl. At the beginning, she is
shy and timid; she makes no attempt to depose Marin and assert her position as
the matron in charge of the house. Then
she becomes a decisive person who moves around Amsterdam unchaperoned though
she had never visited a city before her marriage. The book’s duration is only three months yet in
that short time, a naïve girl, who has never worked and has no knowledge of her
husband’s business dealings, somehow acquires business acumen. She develops independence, determination, and
resourcefulness virtually overnight? And
a girl with her upbringing would hardly be likely to have such liberal
attitudes to sexuality. Her tolerance
also extends to the presence of a black man in the house.
It is
not only Nella’s behaviour that is not plausible. Johannes behaviour in public is so careless
considering the dire consequences, and his hesitation in selling the warehoused
sugar is incomprehensible, especially since doing so would help to lessen an
animosity. Likewise, the motivation of the
miniaturist is simplistically explained.
And the reason for the miniaturist’s particular interest in the Brandt
household is never addressed. Entire novels
could be written from the perspectives of Marin, Johannes and the black
manservant because so little is revealed of their interior lives.
Next
time I’m in the Rijksmuseum, I will definitely take a closer look at Petronella
Oortman’s cabinet house and will undoubtedly be amazed at the work of the
miniaturist. Jessie Burton’s The Miniaturist I will soon forget.
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