"[T]his grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore..." - Bellman & Black

Bellman & Black

by Diane Setterfield

Bellman & Black explores “The Butterfly Effect” on a gothic, morbid scale; Will Bellman’s seemingly unintentional act of animal cruelty as a young boy has lasting and spreading effects as he continues to age.  Throughout the novel, the “rook” (a crow, essentially) is cast as the harbinger of death, interspersed by factual tidbits about the rook’s eating habits, scientific names, and so on.  The juxtaposition of the rook as a death symbol with these reminders of the unavoidability and impersonality of nature serve to remind us that death does become us all.  So why was Will Bellman targeted?

Will takes over a family business and his life becomes consumed with entrepreneurship; the book does become immersed in the details of his businesses, which I personally found engrossing.  However, for each bit of happiness Will experiences, the rook flits through the pages, bringing another round of death and sadness for Will.  Instead of properly dealing with his losses, they propel Will to work harder, shunning any kind of pleasure for the sole purpose of work.  At each funeral Will attends, he meets a man simply named Black.  They go into business together; the terms are vague.  The business consumes Will and he becomes determined to “pay back” Black his portion of the profits.  The ending, while not necessarily a surprise, is still a bit of a letdown—while Will is not a warm and fuzzy character, he is not a moral reprobate.

Which brings us to the crux of the problem with Bellman & Black – why did the simple act at the beginning of the novel, something that, truly, was not fully intended in a malicious manner on Will’s part, bring about such devastation in the end?  Will killed a rook—so everyone he loves dies.  I feel that Setterfield wants us to dig deeper into the allegory of the novel; one small act can wreak larger havoc, yes, but if a person does not boldly face a problem or an issue, Setterfield seems to say, it all becomes exacerbated.  If only Will had taken small moments to enjoy his pleasures more (as evidenced at the very, very end of the novel, when he went through just the very few happy memories he had).  If only Will had been, yes, a bit more selfish and lived his life more for himself instead of being regulated by the external world.

All in all, this novel is more profound than what it seems. I also found the minutiae of running a mill and starting a goods business quite fascinating; it fed into the larger theme of small gears making everything else tick (or break, as it were).