The City of Tears by Kate Mosse Book Review

Love, Loss, and the St. Bartholomew’s Day Massacre: A Closer Look at The City of Tears and Its Shifting Historical Lens

In The City of Tears, the second instalment of Kate Mosse’s trilogy on the Huguenot diaspora, Mosse picks up the story of Minou and Piet amid one of the most turbulent events of the 16th century—the St. Bartholomew’s Day Massacre. Building on themes of survival, faith, and the harrowing toll of religious conflict introduced in The Burning Chambers (you can find my review of it here), The City of Tears dives even deeper into the relentless divisions between Catholics and Huguenots. The novel opens in a fragile moment of peace as a royal wedding aims to bridge the religious divide, but Mosse quickly unravels this hope with the tragic massacre, amplifying the impact of sectarian violence on families and communities.

A Deeper Look at the Huguenot Struggle and the St. Bartholomew’s Day Massacre

In this sequel, Mosse attempts to bring more nuance to the Huguenot-Catholic conflict, focusing less on a simplistic binary of good versus evil and more on the devastating human toll of religious violence. She captures the trauma and chaos of the St. Bartholomew’s Day Massacre, a historical episode marked by the brutal killing of thousands of Huguenots in Paris. By depicting Minou’s brother’s death during the massacre, Mosse personalizes this tragedy, lending a visceral sense of grief and loss that underscores the massacre’s historical significance. This narrative choice deepens the reader’s engagement, making the conflict feel intensely real, as it not only shatters the lives of characters we care about but also serves as a chilling reminder of the indiscriminate cruelty driven by religious and political fervor.

However, while Mosse’s depiction of the massacre and its repercussions adds depth to the story, it still leans toward a sympathetic portrayal of the Huguenots as victims of an unrelenting Catholic antagonism. While this may resonate emotionally, the approach risks feeling reductive, given the complex sociopolitical web of the time. While the novel shows Catholic figures acting out of religious zeal or ambition, it rarely portrays sympathetic Catholic characters or explores the diversity of motivations within each side, an angle that could have added even greater complexity to the narrative.

A Shift Away from Historical Fiction

The novel’s historical grounding begins to falter somewhat in the latter half, where Mosse introduces a subplot involving Minou and Piet’s search for their long-lost daughter. While the disappearance and reunion storyline adds tension and emotional depth, it also detracts from the historical authenticity that anchored the novel’s opening scenes. The reunion, though dramatic, begins to feel less tethered to the political and religious turmoil of 16th-century Europe, shifting instead toward a more conventional narrative of personal and familial reconciliation. This pivot towards a sentimental storyline may pull some readers out of the historical context, as the book seems to lose focus on the Huguenot struggle and veers into a more generic tale of loss and reunion.

This departure from a strict historical framework may be polarizing for readers. Those who appreciated the well-researched historical setting of the first book may find the second half of The City of Tears less compelling, as the narrative prioritizes personal drama over the broader historical scope. It’s a shift that, while still compelling, might challenge the genre expectations of readers looking for a more immersive exploration of the Huguenot diaspora.

Looking Forward to the Final Installment

Despite these shifts, Mosse’s storytelling prowess remains engaging, and The City of Tears succeeds in drawing readers into an emotional journey that feels both expansive and intimate. While it may stray from historical rigor at times, the novel’s exploration of identity, resilience, and the universal quest for belonging offers a compelling perspective on the human cost of religious conflict. This approach, though occasionally at odds with strict historical accuracy, reinforces Mosse’s interest in the endurance of individuals amid larger historical forces.

As I look forward to the final instalment, it will be interesting to see if Mosse reclaims a tighter historical focus, perhaps grounding her characters’ journeys more explicitly in the context of the Huguenot diaspora across Europe. If she can balance the personal and historical elements with greater precision, the concluding book has the potential to offer a fitting culmination to a story that grapples with timeless themes of faith, survival, and the legacy of family through generations.

Featured Image by JOHN TOWNER on Unsplash