Book review: Earth to Earth by John Cornwell

Earth to Earth was not a book I would have picked up out of choice, partly because I don't tend to read anything that might give me nightmares, but also because I live in the heart of a farming community not dissimilar to the one depicted in this book; it all felt a bit too close to home. But once I started, I couldn't put it down.

John Cornwell's investigation into the violent deaths in 1975 of three siblings whose lives had been plagued by the pressures of farming life is both gripping, extremely sad, and strangely enjoyable to read. First published over 40 years ago, this edition includes the intriguing addition of Ted Hughes' involvement in the saga and some other new reflections by the author.

Generations of Luxtons had farmed the land in Winkleigh, North Devon. Over the centuries, the family had achieved the status of gentry and there was much pride attached to being a Luxton. Through meetings with former employees and family members around the country, and especially with a London-based Luxton cousin, William—a tricky customer with an obsession with his family's history—Cornwell is able to get a sense of the family's problems and also of what the individuals were like. He describes, for example, the austerity and irascibility of Robert John Luxton, the father of the three murdered siblings, whose children, one feels, didn't stand a chance of living a happy life.

“This used to be Luxton country round here—all of it for miles and miles in every direction,” an old man tells a young William Luxton when he first comes to visit his cousins and is looking for the farm.

A popular rumour was that the two elder siblings, Robbie and Frances, were in an incestuous relationship. Frances, neighbours said, was a kind and empathetic soul who cared for her brothers and spent her final years loitering in the local cemetery, having developed an obsession with her family history. Alan, the younger, more sociable brother, became irreversibly mentally ill after his engagement was thwarted by his older brother Robbie, who could not afford to buy Alan out of his cottage on the grounds, nor could he fathom splitting up the estate. Many years later, not long after Robbie decided that the only option left was to sell up, the three siblings were found dead, all with their heads blown off.

Cornwell details the police investigation which followed the deaths and is sceptical about the verdict of a suicide pact. Aside from interviewing locals and analysing conversations, photos, and papers, Cornwell also breaks into the empty house after dark and has a good root around to try to get to the bottom of why this family came to such an appalling end. No one had been inside the house for years, locals said, and no one had been allowed upstairs for decades.

Eerie photographs of the farm and the siblings at various stages in their lives pepper the book's chapters and remind the reader that the book is about real people who were walking this earth not that long ago. And yet, Frances pictured as a young woman with visible signs of tooth decay, a photograph of the water wheel which provided free power to the farm fenced off with barbed wire, the austere and formal clothes—all show how much things changed in so little time, rendering old farming families such as the Luxtons tragic victims of progress. They were also victims of their obsession with their family's status.

In an intriguing and amusing afterword to the book, Cornwell details his acquaintance with Ted Hughes, who lived near the Luxtons (his second wife was related to them) and knew many of the people in the local community whom Cornwell had interviewed for the book. When Earth to Earth was eventually published, many of the locals named and quoted in the book tried to have it taken off the shelves, including the Satow brothers, whom Cornwell had visited a number of times, and who tried to get Ted Hughes to persuade Cornwell to cancel further publication.

Cornwell paints an unforgiving picture of Hughes as a self-conscious, self-promoting, and inconsiderate man, occasionally good company, with an unhealthy interest in the supernatural, who ends up hounding him to pull the book.

In one scene, Cornwell and his wife have the Hugheses and the Satow brothers for supper. Hughes decides they should all play “Ouija”, and Cornwell’s wife, who does not speak in the book apart from here, announces that she is Catholic and promptly throws Hughes and the other guests out of the house in the early hours of the morning. The only time Cornwell loses his temper is when he tells Hughes that he cannot tell the publisher to withdraw the book and to “fuck off” before putting the receiver down.

There is a simplicity, clarity, and deceptive naivety to Cornwell's writing which makes it very engaging. His mostly congenial, sometimes fraught interactions with people along the way, as well as his honesty about his insecurities over the book, add an extra element of interest. Aside from the riveting story of the Luxtons and the aftermath, the book is a fascinating insight into the inquisitive and open mind of a true investigative journalist.

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