Saturday, January 24, 2015

Night Crossing by Mary E. Martin Shares Suspenseful, Surprising Ending to Excellent Trilogy

Later, on the train, he brought his
drawings of her to her cabin and
made a curious confession. She was
his muse. Although greatly flattered,
she was unsure just what such a
relationship entailed. Was it love or
something more complicated?
~~~
 Putting my umbrella up, I plodded on my way. Actually, I was pleased with the direction of my thoughts--and myself. I am not usually given to philosophic pondering and this, for me, was quite a dissertation.
You can't expect an
artist like Alex to limit
his talent to one source
of inspiration.
But it hurt...
!!!
I began thinking more about Alex and Daphne. When they first met on his trip to Venice, Alex was enchanted. His muse--he called her! After meeting her, he produced that stunningly evocative painting, The River of Remembrance, in which he painted twelve human figures resplendent in his numinous light. Each one of them represented a person he had met on his travels--including Daphne,  who was at the very centre of the composition. On his canvas, Alex was creating the human being as a portal for his divine light. Just think how difficult that might be! Human being? Divine light? Now wonder he had trouble...

Walking freed her mind, which wandered back to her first meeting with Alex on the Orient Express. By chance he had been seated at her breakfast table. His gaze upon her had been so intense that she had resented the intrusion. But his eyes reflected a rare kindness and attentiveness. A peculiar restlessness stirred within and she became attentive...
But now, she was afraid she had been supplanted by another. No longer was she an inspiration to him--or so it seemed. In his studio, Alex showed her beautiful drawings of a willowy, young woman lifeless like a store mannequin wearing a stupid floral hat! His eye was cool, critical and professional in assessing his own work. Never once did he express any emotion about the woman--this new muse. And he seemed oblivious to the pain he was causing her, the rejected muse. At first, she felt jealous fury boiling up inside, but then felt foolish. She tried to reason...
Memories came flooding back. Days later, when they made love in Venice she realized that his art was his true mistress. He had already made love to her with his drawings made in his cabin after dinner. Could such a man ever lie--flesh and blood--beside her as her lover? She had no answer and suspected neither did he. After that, they parted for a time...
~~~


Night Crossing
Third in Trilogy of Remembrance

By Mary E. Martin


After two such intriguing books, The Drawing Lesson and The Fate of Pryde, (Click over for my reviews if you haven't read), I was almost prepared for what happens in the final book.What I didn't expect, however, was that the last book brought the total Trilogy into such an illuminating and, yes, I have to say, inspirational conclusion.

While readers met Rinaldo, a jealous artist and Pryde, a deceiving patron of the arts in the first two novels, the third brings, you might say, the fate of Wainwright into his own special light...

And it all comes about by a fantastic set of characters Alex was fated to meet...

Do you believe in fate--or. what I call God Incidents? Could this story have ever been true in this world? I don't know, but I like to think so.... The key thing is that, for Alex, he had always been looking for, and open to his light. I've had moments of being open to it...but never really chose to constantly be aware--to search for it... Perhaps there is still time for all of us...


"What on earth's wrong?" I asked.
Alex groaned. "Good God! There's a message
from Daphne. She was coming  to my studio to
go out for dinner." Again he slapped his fore-
head, a gesture becoming all too frequent.
"And I completely forgot! What an idiot I am!"
Rapidly he called her number. No answer.
He left his message. "Daphne! Forgive me! I'm
so stupid. I'm at Jamie's looking at a fantastic
painting...no...no that doesn't matter. I should
have remembered. Please call me back and I'll
meet you wherever you are right now..."
He shook his head and spoke sadly, "It's
not the first time, Jamie...She deserves someone
much better than me...I get so wrapped up
in this world of mine that I forget the most
important people..."
~~~
Alex and Daphne had become close but two things happened that caused confusion, for both of them...

Alex had been so excited about heading out on one of his adventures and wanted to include Daphne--taking her to Paris with him... But, as always, Alex had not been able to gets his words right with her... He had talked of their going to Paris, of togetherness, only to then announce it was a business trip. Daphne was crushed for she had been hoping for exactly what Alex had presented at first--a romantic trip and perhaps more...

Daphne withdrew and later left the message she had to return to New York. As an aside, while she was there, her partner began telling her of his feelings--feelings she'd never known he'd had... But, she decided it was maybe time for her to consider what he was offering. 

For Alex, the adventure started, first from just watching the skies...

The jewels in the sky seemed to be forming, taking on a shape...


"Do you ever wonder, Mr. Waitwright, what's in those empty spaces?...You know, in a painting, you think there's nothing but air between a horse in a meadow and the barn but is that really true? Is it really empty?"



His art was renowned for its light. A magical sense of the beyond enthralled his viewers. Sure some marvelous secret of life must lie just on the other side of his fields and streams. With his brushstrokes, he transported viewers into the beyond where they could imagine eternity upon eternity. Quickly, he painted over the farmer who seemed angry at being awakened into existence. Satisfied with his handiwork, Alexander thought, Can the light shine through something new--not physical objects or people?
In his tiny kitchen, he put on a pot of coffee. From the corner of his eye, he caught some movement--a shadow or shifting shape dancing on the wall. As he turned toward the shadows, his mouth grew slack. His breath deepened and a blissful, innocent smile spread across his face. His legs grew weak and he staggered toward his vision as if drawn by irresistible but unknown forces.
As presented by Jung
Against the tall windows, now blackened in the night, a golden egg rose up, shimmering with beautiful gems--diamonds, rubies, sapphires and emeralds which sparkled like the purest sunlight. Turning slowly, this marvelous object throbbed with life as if it contained all the energy in the world. His lips parted and he spoke three words--"the cosmic egg."
It was perhaps three feet in height and, at its widest point, two feet in breadth. It rotated majestically several times and then drifted upward toward the ceiling. Although stunning, it was as insubstantial as a rainbow and began to dissipate before his eyes.
Awe struck, he stood motionless. The cosmic egg was the seed heralding new creation. Everything necessary was at hand and contained within that egg. For eons, it had tantalized humankind with the secret mystery of creation, life and death and the promise of immortality...

!!!


 
Of course, Alex immediately began to sketch the egg that had appeared in his vision... But not too long after, Jamie called about something he'd found in Pryde's files. Alex was astounded and then greatly excited to see that it was a picture of exactly what he'd seen as The Cosmic Egg. If somebody else had seen it, Alex just had to meet him... You know, if I had been Alex in such an exciting situation, I, too, would have forgotten about a dinner date... You can see where my sympathies lie...


Another jolt caused the old
woman to topple directly
onto the seat across from
Alex. He hoped it was not her
place...His first impression
was that she was ever so
slightly unkempt. A hem lung
down and a coat button was
loose. Under her arm, she
clutched a ragged, rolled up
newspaper leading him to
speculate that she was a
reader of the more
sensational tabloids. He
opened his own newspaper and
tried to concentrate.
"Sir?"
~~~
The first  encounter with fate was when he received a confirmation for a ferry trip in his name...which he had not scheduled... At this point, I have to stop and say that the steps which followed had me totally enthralled. I'm still not sure whether somebody was actually behind things, but it was very clear that there was a guiding force...

For the next thing that happened was that he met a woman on the train as he began his planned trip to Paris... Or, I should say, two women and one child. The mother and child he had helped when the child had hidden and was lost in a place where there were bats! The second was an older woman who sat down opposite Alex's seat on the train.

By now readers know that, instead of ignoring the woman, Alex kindly responded to Miss Trump's overtures. What he didn't realize, though, that he would soon be so engrossed in her story, that she soon presented him with strong feelings for her...
The young woman provided entertainment on the ferry and had done a Tarot read for the old woman, while Alex had asked, instead, for a song and listened to her wonderful voice singing Barbara Alan...


A huge, rogue wave roared up like an angry
tongue lashing the ferry broadside. For long
moments, the vessel seemed suspended in a
silent mid-air space, threatening to capsize.
A deathly groaning and an eerie whistling
came and they were flung downward. Water
rushed onto the deck nearly sweeping the
tables and chairs overboard. But then the
ferry heaved upward finally righting itself...
~~~
That was when the four of them all found themselves on the same ferry and in neighboring cabins... At least until the storm! The location was on a low deck. Alex quickly took action to save them, first carrying the young child to the top and handing him over to be placed in the lifeboat.

Going back down under protest, he first tried to save Miss Trump, but the woman refused,
indicating that Alex should save the mother so that her child would not become motherless...

Miss Trump was the only casualty...but her death set up the main story that will thrill and delight readers. One that is both memorable and heartwarming...one surely designed just as it should be by fate...???

I loved this one and added it to my new list of personal favorites for 2015! Do check out this Trilogy of Remembrance. It will surely stir your own memories, your inner life's thoughts, and provide inspiration to see and acknowledge what fate might have in store for you... Highly recommended. Mary E. Martin has presented a brilliant trilogy which could not have been anticipated by blurbs, front covers... Readers must experience it! Kudos For an Incomparable Conclusion!


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Enjoy a Taste of the Ending Wonders...







Mary E. Martin is the author of two award-winning trilogies: The Osgood Trilogy and The Trilogy of Remembrance. She grew up in Toronto, Canada, where she lives with her husband. They have three children and two grandchildren.