The life of a pirate’s wife who died one of the wealthiest women in Britain’s North American Colonies.
Sarah Kidd (circa 1665-circa 1744) is no stranger to history. Neither is William Kidd, the sometime privateer, sometime pirate who roamed the seas relieving others of whatever goodies they were carrying onboard. Geanacopoulos draws on the tropes of bodice-rippers and historical fiction to get inside Sarah’s head. “As she thought back over her life, not all of her memories were fond ones, especially the time when she was a pirate’s wife,” writes the author. “But now the memory of the hardships and heartbreak had softened and Sarah wouldn’t have traded it for anything. She felt proud, very proud, to have been a pirate’s wife and she wore the title as a badge of honor.” During that time, Sarah, who finally became “a mother in her early twenties with her third husband,” watched as her husband committed various acts of mayhem. “Special and mature beyond her years,” she harbored many secrets, and the author throws red meat to buried-treasure fans by suggesting that after Kidd was executed for his crimes in 1701, Sarah took the location of the treasure to her grave. While the matter of that execution involved the complex mechanics of British politics, Geanacopoulos reduces it to yet more guesswork: Of Kidd’s being measured for chains before being strung up on the gibbet, she writes, “This experience must have been terrifying and deeply depressing for him.” Yes, so one would think, though the execution of her husband did clear the decks for Sarah to marry her fourth husband, a merchant who “quickly learned that beneath her hardened core and keen survival instincts she was lovely.” In any event, writes the author, “the idea of becoming a stepfather to the children of a famous pirate was appealing.” Unfortunately, most of the narrative is ham-fisted, and the prose is pedestrian.
It’s better to walk the plank than to try to get through this one.