Bright I Burn: In Defence of an ‘unlikeable woman’
“I watch the devil weeping and I laugh." - Bright I Burn, by Molly Aitken
Molly Aitken’s book weaves the trappings of gender with childhood grief, religious expectation, and societal hysteria. Alice Kyteler lost her mother at a young age, worked at her father's side, and became a cunning businesswoman at a young age because of it. We follow Alice, in the late 1200s/early 1300s Ireland, through her four marriages and her ultimate downfall. She is the first woman accused of witchcraft in Ireland.
Sparse yet lyrical, Aitken’s writing guides you through the complexities of Alice’s life on waves of poetic prose. Alice's story is interspersed with experimental slices, for example the town's gossip, poetry, and recipes. I really loved this, it evoked the atmosphere of scandalous chatter, beginning as background noise then growing and growing. Aitken's word choices are consistently elegant and vivid.
It is not so much the narrative itself that makes this book as wonderful as it is, but the themes, and how they are presented. Fauna and flora underpin much of this book, being woven throughout. Nods to Alice's mother and mother earth, displaying women's roots in nature, often provide solace for Alice. The relation of cats to alleged witchcraft is strong; their ruthless need for survival paired with slick femininity is mimetic of Alice herself.
Some have criticised Alice as a character, observing that she is arrogant and hard to sympathise with. There was not one moment in this book where I found myself disliking Alice. It never crossed my mind to dislike her, she simply ‘was’. In fact, given all she had been through, and her constant battle existing as a businesswoman at this particular time, I applaud her for the kindness she kept. I found her realistic, both as a character and in her mindset. For that, she is deeply intriguing. Perhaps I defend her because I see myself in her, and she validates a certain level of skepticism women carry.
Alice proved to me that a female protagonist does not have to be a Mary Sue, in action or in thought. A female protagonist can be complex, and yes, arrogant, whilst remaining likeable. A pinch of cynicism is sometimes necessary for survival. I found Alice to be a captivating example of a woman fighting for her voice.
Many thanks to Canongate for this copy.