Completed May 2021
THE PULL OF
THE STARS
Too often I avoid historical fiction. I think it's a legacy of the fairly questionable choices in the GCSE English curriculum, but even now I think twice when I notice a century-old setting in a synopsis. This didn't deter me when I picked up The Pull of the Stars, however, and I'm very glad I took that chance.
I was rooting for Nurse Julia right from the beginning, when you accompany her on some very claustrophobic public transport (not somewhere you'd want to be when everyone closer than 2m to you could be carrying the plague). I could really feel the sense of foreboding which lurked in every corner, and I could had the sense that she could too. This closeness continued throughout the bulk of the novel, and with so much drama packed into tiny room, it felt suffocating. And then tragedy struck, the premonitions you were praying against came true, and the world collapsed in on itself.
This was an intense book – there were plenty of times I had to place it down for a moment just to work through the horror of the situation unfurling. I don't mean this as a criticism, in fact it's testament to the power of the writing that I found myself so invested. It was especially difficult to read Julia having to push her feelings aside and power through heartbreak after heartbreak in order to do her job.
Her character was one of the strongest points of the book for me. Seemingly full of contradictions – she was confident yet self-doubting, insightful yet oblivious at times, but in a way which felt authentic and reflected the complexity of the environment she found herself in. I really enjoyed reading her response to the handling of the pandemic, and how she chewed over the actions of the government in a way which felt a little too close to home.
This foundation was only built upon as the book progressed, in particular through her relationship with a new volunteer at the hospital. Immediately we realise Bridie is naive, but bright – sharp, quick, and with good instincts – and yet there's something of a mystery that surrounds her. It's hinted that Bridie's upbringing was far from smooth, and it's this that makes her so unique, and provides Julia with so much to unravel. It felt truly special to watch these two characters begin to understand each other, each transformed by the other's perspective. Two intelligent women shine light upon each other's ignorances, in a way which is never critical, but tender, and sincere. My only regret is how quickly the narrative is cut short. I could have easily spent many more hours in their company.
Overall, my assumption of historical fiction lacking relevance in today's world was not only unfounded, in this case, but turned on its head – I felt acutely aware of the mirror it held up to our society today. The parallels were stark, and the message was clear. The only way forwards is to listen, to empathise, and most importantly to acknowledge our own blind spots. We may not all be in the same boat, but we're in the same storm – a fact which is especially important to keep in mind when the seas get rough.
“I slept and dreamt that life was beauty, and then I woke and found that life was duty.”