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Starting this book, I have to admit I felt a bit intimidated. At 352 pages and as the fourth installment in a series, The Black-Banded Envelope throws new readers directly into the deep end. The author doesn’t provide much background for newcomers, and at times it feels as though Boarman doesn’t particularly care whether readers unfamiliar with the previous volumes can follow. I’m glad to say that, despite my nervousness, I ended up really enjoying this historical novel, and it may be of the most interesting books I’ve read this year.
The novel follows Mary “M.” Warner, a young Kentucky woman in the Reconstruction-era 1870s who begins receiving mysterious black-banded mourning envelopes, Victorian death announcements that were once common practice. Each envelope announces the death of two Secret Service agents, Merritt and Argent. As these notices multiply, Mary becomes increasingly obsessed with decoding them, uncertain whether the men are truly dead or whether someone is orchestrating an elaborate game.
The prose of the book is well-constructed, but oft deliberately challenging. The paragraphs run long, and it genuinely feels like reading a Thomas Pynchon or Herman Melville novel at times. The narrative voice maintains an almost clinical distance even as it delves into Mary’s psychological unraveling. Yet when the writing connects, it can be pretty effective. Consider this moment of Mary processing grief, “She mourned their loss as she would the end of a treasured book, as a kind of pang that there will be no more stories or adventures featuring these two characters.” Or her physical reaction to emotional turmoil, “Her heart made one of those curious, occasional somersaults. Sometimes her heart did that for no reason at all; she could not say why it happened now.” The story’s detours into Merritt and Argent’s world are also particularly enjoyable.
What impressed me most is how Boarman weaves historical details throughout. The book includes actual newspaper clippings, like this excerpt about the devastating 1870 Potomac flood: “The Chain Bridge Swept Off — The Long Bridge Badly Damaged — Houses, Furniture, Animals, Lock-gates, and Bridges Floating Down the River.” There’s even a letter ostensibly from Ulysses S. Grant himself, informing Mary of the agents’ deaths. These artifacts ground the mystery in real Reconstruction-era context. Reading the book, it’s clear that the author did his homework.
The references of the book are particularly satisfying. Mary processes her confusion about Merritt and Argent by comparing them to famous literary pairs: “They were Damon and Pythias… They were veterans of the late war, like Octavian and Agrippa… They were silly, like Rosencrantz and Guildenstern in Hamlet… They were work partners, like Eugene Wrayburn and Mortimer Lightwood in Our Mutual Friend.” The prose here shows the erudition of the author, and this is also on full display throughout the book. Boarman writes with the precision of a scholar and the sensitivity of a novelist, casually throwing in allusions to classical myth and literature. His command of nineteenth-century idiom is particularly impressive.
I rarely struggle to form an opinion on a book as much as I did with this one. On one hand, I was genuinely impressed by the ambitious historical scope and the quality of the prose when it soars. The author clearly understands the period deeply. On the other hand, the book is pretty difficult to get into, and I admittedly didn’t connect to the characters much. Moreover, on an unrelated note, I will say I don’t really feel the cover art fits the tone of the book.
The first volume was published in 2019, and clearly the series has been building Mary’s character across multiple installments. Without that foundation, certain emotional beats don’t land with the weight they should. Nonetheless, readers who have the energy to read a long series will probably get a lot out of it. The ending provides some closure, but I was surprised to see Book V is apparently still to come. It will be interesting to see how many books the series ends up being.
Having looked at the author’s social media, I noticed that author G. S. Boarman remains largely anonymous beyond being identified as a Kentucky writer, which adds another layer of intrigue to this fairly niche project. There’s something admirable about the commitment required to sustain a multi-volume historical series with such complexity, regardless of mainstream appeal. I can’t help but admire the author for his devotion to this project. In the end, I really enjoyed losing myself in The Black-Banded Envelope, and I believe I learnt a bit about the history of the United States.
Final verdict: While I cannot claim I fully “got” this book, The Black-Banded Envelope is a skillfully written, well-researched novel throughout. The historical research and sheer scope of the book are undeniably impressive, and I can imagine that for people who read the prior books in the series, this one will be even more powerful. For fans of Sarah Waters, Michael Faber, and A. S. Byatt, or just people interested in the post-Civil War period, The Black-Banded Envelope offers an unforgettable experience.
You can get your copy of “The Black-Banded Envelope” here!
