The Clockmaker's Daughter

By: Kate Morton / Narrated By: Joanne Froggatt

Length: 17 hrs and 3 mins

Finely wrought with, like, a GAZILLION and six characters

I enjoy doing stuff like listening to an audiobook whilst unloading the dishwasher, or whilst pondering just what’s going through my cat’s head cuz he’s looking all odd all of a sudden. I multitask, if you will.

Ahem, okay. THAT wasn’t possible with The Clockmaker’s Daughter, and I learned that right quick. We start in one situation, very dreamlike, allusions to a time of artists and muses, and then we jump to modern days with a new character. Then we jump to a different time, a different character. And then again. And again.

There was no cat-face pondering almost from the get-go because one really needs to pay attention, dammit, if one wants to start making sense of the whole story.

What ties it all together and makes this less frustrating is that, while there are a million different people, a million different eras, there’s basically only one place: Birchwood Manor, where a tragedy occurred in the 1800’s that left the fiancée of the artist-owner dead and his model and muse missing. Missing. With a large family heirloom, a diamond of incalculable value.

The book weaves together the art scene of the mid/late 1800’s, a girls’ boarding school in the late 1920’s, England’s countryside during WWII, the scene of a lovers’ get-together in the 1990’s, and winds up with an archivist in 2017. Elodie, the archivist, comes to Birchwood Manor because it turns out to be the birthplace of child-time stories that were handed down from generation to generation. Plus, she wants to know the story of the strong and enigmatic woman in a verrrry old photograph. There she stumbles upon a man with ghosts in his past, who’s looking for the heirloom for the descendant of one of the earlier characters.

And speaking of ghosts… The Clockmaker’s Daughter is one of the finest (if mildest) ghost stories I’ve heard in a long time, with one of the most likable post-life women out there, Birdie (Who spurs people into action, who comes to lonely young boys, who nudges people, her “visitors”, in the direction they need to go). We learn Birdie’s story bit by savory bit until we come to the end and all becomes tragically clear.

Which brings us to? The reeeeally abrupt end. Sooome things are tied up, some stories are joined, some characters come together. But mostly it seems as tho’ Kate Morton was going for the ol’ Let The Reader Decide For Herself thing. I was left with QUITE a few questions but, rather than feel frustrated and annoyed, I felt it all to be tantalizing instead. This is a book I want to talk to other people about, get their take on what happened After.

Joanne Froggatt does a stellar job with the narration. I’ve been unfamiliar with her prior to this but would not hesitate for a moment to try another book with her at the helm. I can’t imagine how difficult it is to switch from a normal accent to an American accent to an Australian one then back again (Okay, okay—so maybe the American and Australian characters aren’t in a scene together, but still! Impressive!).

This is a mighty ambitious book, and I applaud Ms. Morton for taking on such a convoluted tale. I’m very happy to have listened to it.

That said? My sister asked me to, so there’s NO WAAAY I wasn’t gonna! Thanks, sis—ya picked a good one!