Read an Excerpt

I
first became acquainted with this wonderfully odd, strangely
compelling gem of a novel as a result of a visit to its website
(www.houseofgentlemen.com), which, strangely enough, does
exactly what it is supposed to do: entertain in and of itself while
making visitors interested in the book upon which it is based. The
site does note that THE HOUSE OF GENTLE MEN is "A novel for women."
The plotline, however, seemed to cut across several genres, some of
which I have more than a passing interest in. I accordingly put my
masculinity at risk and plunged in. And I'm richer for it. This may
be for women, but it is also about men. It is also a mystery, a
gothic horror in a sense, a fantasy; and most of all it is a very
fine work.The
year is 1941 and the state is Louisiana. As the country prepares
for war, a 16-year-old girl named Charlotte is raped by three
soldiers. The assault renders her mute for years, until a gift born
of pity takes her to an unlikely house on the outer edges of her
hometown. THE HOUSE OF GENTLE MEN is visited each night by the
women of the town who are abused, forgotten, or neglected. They
take their celibate comforts with the residents of the house, men
who are haunted by their guilt of past crimes that they have
committed against women. When Charlotte visits the house, she is
drawn to a new arrival: a man whose past is unknown to her, a man
who, while a soldier several years before, raped a young
girl.This
is a novel that challenges on so many levels that it is difficult
to enumerate them all. It is, obviously, heavily allegorical, yet
manages to cleave with the real world with respect to the
relationships between men and women, and more specifically, what
women want from men in a relationship. There is also some righteous
anger directed at men, and a bit at women too. Anyone who reads
this book is going to see a bit of themselves, warts and all,
somewhere within it. And, I would guess, there is a good bit of the
author in there as well.Though I have never met Hepinstall, and know nothing of her, I
would guess that the creation of THE HOUSE OF GENTLE MEN arose from
desire and need. It simply reads too much like a personal
statement, as if the author has dipped her creative ladle into a
well of pain and brought this work forth from the water. While her
tale ends on an optimistic note, I have a feeling that Hepinstall
has more visits planned, if not to THE HOUSE OF GENTLE MEN, then to
its environs. On the strength of this first, brilliantly original
novel, she will be most welcomed no matter where she
goes.