Review as posted on Goodreads:

I write this review in advance of the forthcoming British edition. My thanks to Netgalley and the publisher, Aardvark Bureau, for a copy in exchange for an honest review.

I believe the book was first published in 2013. I found this book to be interesting in that it provides a fiction view of the final days in the life of Thomas Hardy. Having visited Max Gate and Hardy's birthplace, I felt that the descriptions had a real sense of place and time. This gave a real sense of reality to the writing.

For me this became a novel about reality and fiction. The fiction deals with aspects of attitudes, opinions and trust. The reality comes through by how close the novel relates to events in Hardy's life. The book seems to be well researched.

I was reminded of another piece of fiction, Winter by Christopher Nicholson which provides a fictional account of Hardy's friendship with a budding young actress called Gertrude Bugler.

If you like Thomas Hardy you may find this an enjoyable quick read.

Beautifully told story of Thomas Hardy's last days at Max Gate, as experienced by his household. It contrasts the every day with greatness, and it is quietly comic in places as well as tragic. A thoughtful tale.

Sorry I just cannot get onto this book. I've had several attempts but although parts are good and make me want to read more, then the next page is the opposite. I find it confusing and difficult. I did try.

A month or so back I read a book called, Winter, which was also about Thomas Harding and his death. That one was narrated by his second wife, Florence, this one is narrated by a serving girl in the house. Life in the house is precarious right now, with the great man dying none of the servants know what life will be like under Florence, when she inherits, if they will even be kept on. But, servants see and hear everything and so there are many delightful scenes rehashed and memories gone over. What to do with his body, how should his obituary be stated, all these things go on as watchers watch and listen.

Stream of consciousness chattiness, sometimes almost a whimsical tone, memories of times before, some interesting, some not. But a food look at how Harding and his fame effected his wife, his friends, the townspeople and the people who worked for him. He was quite a presence though he was not a very or considerate warm man. I have now read more books on his death, two, than I have read by the author himself, only one.

ARC by Netgalley.

Look, I haven't read any Thomas Hardy (would that have helped?) and was charmed into requesting this novel by the interesting cover. I feel a bit duped, to be honest, because this novel weighs heavily in the hand and plods along slowly, slowly until the conclusion. An opportunity wasted? Perhaps, but I found both the writing and the subject matter deeply boring.

In Max Gate the members of Thomas Hardy’s household reminisce and ruminate about the author during the last days of his life. Soothingly written with smooth rounded edges nothing much happens, but, oddly, I’m glad for it. There was a point in the book where a part of me was crying out for Hardy to just die already, because it is only then that the book and the characters begin to move on. Perhaps if Hardy’s writing had played a larger part of my life I would have gleaned more enjoyment from the book.

This is a very quiet, elegiac book in lots of ways though it also has its moments of bawdy humour. Thomas Hardy lies dying, and his household, his wife, his friends and England itself is suspended in stasis until that inevitable moment comes.

I love Hardy's writing but found this a difficult read as Hardy himself is an oblique character and almost irrelevant, in some ways, to the plot, such as it is. I also found Nellie's voice unconvincing for the time period: she's too articulate, it seems to me, for a girl in household service at this time.

While Wilkins does intelligent things with the relationship between an author and his readers, and replicates some of Hardy's own concerns especially with nature, this is nothing like Hardy's own fiction which is dramatic and full of full-blooded characters who continue to live outside of the books which contain them.

So a quiet piece of writing that almost tips over into the listless in places: don't come to this expecting very much to happen.

Max Gate, Thomas Hardy’s home in Dorset, is as the name implies the subject of the book. In this home, upstairs, lies Hardy himself who is ill and nearing his last days. Outside his door sits his beloved dog Wessex, in a room nearby is his second wife Florence, sifting through the diary entries that Hardy has made over his lifetime. Downstairs, are his powerful literati friends, awaiting the news of Hardy’s last breath. In other corners of the house, the domestic help is the walls and ears, serving, cleaning, cooking, keeping guard at the gates while journalists and well-wishers swarm the estate; all starkly aware that their life in the presence of a literary genius will soon come to an end.

The story is narrated from the point of view of Nellie Titterington, a maid at the house, which is probably where the problem with the book lies. Several times over the course of the book, I found myself wondering how Wilkins was going to explain the logistical issue of how Nellie could have overheard in such great detail, all parts of some extremely private conversations. Wilkins never explains, and somehow, I was not troubled by that.

This slight book is a detailed look into the last days of a great man, the relationship he shared with his first wife whom he didn’t seem to love in her lifetime, but admired after her passing; and also of course with his second wife. His friends quarrel over who knew him best, his neighbours and family quarrel over where he might be buried. An emotional, enjoyable and clever look into the consequences of having lived the life of an enigma.

As per Amazaon review (see link), an insightful exploration of Hardy's final days and the people surrounding and adoring him.

When I began Max Gate, I wasn’t sure what to expect. Damien Wilkens’ book takes its title from the house where Thomas Hardy lived on the outskirts of Dorchester and is set in the immediate period leading up to, and the aftermath of, the great writer’s death. Was I going to read a book so mournful and stuffed full of grief that I’d come out the other end in tears? As it happens, no. Wilkens’ approach to his story left me dwelling on what I read each day, taking it with me into my every-day life. There is much to dwell upon in this book.
The narrator of Max Gate is housemaid Nellie Titterington, a feisty young woman who views the goings on surrounding Hardy’s death with a critical eye. The timeline wanders a little – there are passages where Nellie is telling her story from a future where she is a grandmother with boxes of possessions in her garage (quite a departure from her early life), but for the most part we are taken through events chronologically. Nellie is a somewhat unreliable narrator. I am not the only reviewer to question the author’s decision to tell his story through Nellie’s eyes. There are many passages where the housemaid was not, could not be present. The first instance of this is semaphored rather clumsily when Nellie tells us about a ‘device’ she has hidden in the fire to allow her access to conversations in her absence. Hmmm… Personally, I think I would have preferred a multi-narrator approach, but this is a quibble.
I have also read reviews criticising the language Nellie used. When she chats with her fellow maid Alice, her speech is rich with local dialect and in keeping with what you’d expect from a woman in her position. But when she narrates the story, the language is quite, quite different and totally out of character.
You may think, having read the above, that this is a purely critical review. Far, far from it.
There is a wonderfully claustrophobic feel to the first part of the book where the characters are besieged by the demands for news from the rest of the world.
Wilkens language is quite beautiful and the book is ‘literary fiction’ at its best. His descriptions of the environment his characters inhabit is detailed and poetic. Changes of scene are often preceded by short prose-poems. Take the following two examples which so wonderfully set the scene for the ceremonies for Hardy’s burials.
“Pain, nakedness. Faces of suffering, babies. Little animals crouching in the shadows. A dog on a chain, a bird in a cage. Light coming through the clouds like arrows. The blue windows.”
“The Abbey animals with bulging eyes, wings, coming out the sides of the building, hundreds of feet above. God believes in them. Leaping stones. The overgrown coffin covered with a white satin cloth. Pigeons flying outside. On the path, the broken bits of a crowshell, picked clean of its river-mussel.”
These short, stubby sentences carry so much emotion and beauty, sitting proud of the rest of the text. This is not to belittle the rest of the language. It is beautiful and nuanced and a joy to read.
The author’s portrayal of the female characters in Hardy’s life and death is both subtle and complex. I was left feeling great sympathy for Florence Hardy, the famous man’s second wife who went from his secretary to life partner in a short time. The union didn’t seem to bring her happiness as Hardy appeared to be fonder of his first wife Emma in death than in life.
Max Gate also makes us consider fame. Do we, who are removed from the life of the celebrated have any claim to him? And if so, just how much is enough? We are all familiar with the mass outpourings of grief when a celebrity dies – Princess Diana, Elvis, Alan Rickman and many, many others. Do people who were distant in life have any claim to the man in death? Does the respected reputation of a person mean that their wishes should be ignored in death?
There is some black humour sprinkled throughout – when you get to the part about the cat and the biscuit tin you will either laugh or grimace – but the cover suggests a lighter read than you might expect.
Today I have ‘book hangover.’ Max Gate will stay with me for quite a while and it wouldn’t be fair to start another novel until I finish processing just how much I loved this one.
I received a copy of Max Gate from Netgalley in return for an honest review.