



And while Campisi doesn’t flinch from depicting its horrors, the ultimate effect is far more exhilarating and hopeful than grim. But the dark world of Sin Eater exists only slightly sideways from our own, especially in the midst of a pandemic that reminds us of earlier eras when disease, mistrust of the government and fear held sway. And the mystery, while carefully plotted, is never quite as compelling as the characters and vibrant, Bruegelesque setting where it all unfolds. The array of names, especially May’s nicknames for those in court - Country Mouse, Painted Pig, the Willow Tree, Mush Face, Black Fingers - can leave a reader as momentarily befuddled as the sin eater who is trying to make sense of it all. Occasionally, the novel’s milieu grows confusing. Campisi employs deft plotting and an impressive gift for evoking the lives of women in this reimagined Elizabethan era, when being born female was often a death sentence, by dint of sexual assault, starvation, domestic abuse, illness or lack of education. a riveting depiction of hard-won female empowerment that weaves together meticulous research, unsolved murder - and an unforgettable young heroine.
