Miss or Mrs - Wilkie Collins

A big part of my fascination with Wilkie Collins stems from his fascination with the law regarding marriage and women (I also like his sensationalist plots and dashes of humour) 'Miss or Mrs?' delivers on all counts, but for a modern reader it has a decidedly disturbing element.

Briefly the plot concerns 15 year old Natalie and her two suitors - the definitely middle aged Richard Turlington who is 38 and Launcelot Linzie 15 years his junior (I make that 23). Launcelot is a cousin of Natalie's as well as acting in the capacity of family medical advisor whilst she, her father, and aunt, are cruising on Turlington's yacht to help Natalie recover her vitality after the transition from child to woman. 'Miss or Mrs?' was published at the end of 1871 when the age of consent for girls was still 12 (in 1875 it was raised to 13, it wasn't for another decade that it became 16) the plot demands that Natalie be 15 because at 15 she can be married, but if she's removed from her father's home before she's 16 without his consent it's abduction regardless of whether it's her husband doing the removing or not.

I assume that most current readers will share my distaste at Natalie's youth, Collins makes it clear that she's physically mature with the thoughts and desires of an adult woman, and of course legally she is above the age of consent (she's also mixed race which is another kind of interesting) but she's still only 15 and caught between the unwelcome attentions of Turlington who's determined to wed her, and the far more welcome attentions of Launcelot who is also determined to wed her. Now Turlington is very much the villain of this piece and a thoroughly Bad Man who puts considerable pressure both on Natalie and her father to get his own way. Launcelot is clearly a much better thing but he still puts considerable pressure on Natalie to fall in with his wishes regarding a clandestine marriage between the two of them and it made me uncomfortable.

I don't know if it should given the context of the times (it also turns out that Collins was caught up in just such a clandestine marriage in 1848 when he helped a 33 year old friend marry a girl not quite 16 so he very clearly had no qualms about young brides) but I can't help but read this as the story of a girl who is the property of her father being forced to become the property of someone else. It doesn't help that it's not a choice she's altogether willing to make.

Otherwise it's a thoroughly exciting and amusing story, Launcelot proves himself to be more than worthy of Natalie (and not a sexual predator) Turlington is a horrible villain, and the Father and Aunt are by turns comic and appalling. Natalie's sexual maturity and racial background are unique in my limited experience of Victorian literature, both challenge my preconceptions of Victorian society.

'Miss or Mrs?' is available free as an e-book (though quite apart from preferring paper copies I think it's worth paying for the introductions in my Oxford edition) and well worth reading - at just over 80 pages it doesn't take long. 

The Haunted Hotel - Wilkie Collins

Why is it that late Autumn feels like such a good time for a good bit of Victorian melodrama and sensation? I've been dipping in and out of all sorts of books over the last week or so (some good stuff arrived in the post and I'm very excited by all of it) which is not a reading habit I like - if I don't concentrate on one book at a time I tend not to finish any of them and that would be why it's taken me more than a week to read my way through two novellas. If I sort myself out in good time tonight I hope to read a third before I fall asleep. It will be 'The Guilty River' and it sounds like a peach.

Living in a first floor flat without children I miss out on the whole trick and treat thing (I'm not sorry about this) and the decorative elements of Halloween represent so much money that could be spent on books (much as I like a carved pumpkin it's not as good as a book) so a not very horrible horror story is about as far as I go. 'The Haunted Hotel' was a perfect choice, in it a reassuringly foreign woman (The Countess) with a start white complexion, glittering black eyes, and unsavoury reputation accosts an eminent doctor. She wants to know if she's ill or mad and then she starts to divulge some of her recent history... His conclusion is that she's perfectly healthy but quite evil, a conclusion that her fiancé's family whole heartedly share. The fiancé has meanwhile behaved extremely badly ditching a very nice girl in favour of this foreign temptress, the Countess herself is convinced that the jilted girl is destined to be her nemesis. There then follows a death in mysterious circumstances, a suspected insurance swindle, and all manner of lurid hauntings before the tale is wound up. It's all good stuff; the supernatural goings on are the sort that I can safely read in bed without fear of a sleepless night and the mystery was twisty enough to be satisfying.

What I found interesting here was the insistence on fate rather that free will. When the story opens the Countess hasn't,as far as the reader knows done anything particularly wrong. Collins implies scandal but not, I think, criminality. She believes that it's her meeting with the other woman (Agnes) that turns the tide of her life, that's the moment that she becomes evil and it's Agnes that will later expose her, throughout the rest of the novella she seems powerless to resist this fate. I also found it interesting that the man in the middle of all of this isn't particularly likeable. The only person who really cares for him is Agnes, the Countess states that he's blackmailed her into marriage and none of his family seem to think much of him at all - it somehow gives the story a bit more depth.

All in all this was a thoroughly enjoyable read, I've had it on the shelf for quite a while (my copy is considerably older than the edition in the picture) as a treat for a suitable occasion - now the occasion has arisen it didn't disappoint. Happy Halloween.  

Hide And Seek – Wilkie Collins

I’m suffering from the beginnings of what looks like being a really horrible cold (I’m taking it like a man) and have been procrastinating all day but it’s time to pull myself together, tear myself away from River Cottage which has been cheering me up for the last hour, and focus on Wilkie Collins.

Collins is my favourite Victorian writer by a distance (so far), I’ve tried with Dickens but have never really got beyond feeling quite worthy for making the effort. Why Dickens is so much better beloved is something I wonder about every time I pick up a Collins book, and ‘Hide and Seek’ has proved no exception to that rule, now I’ve finished it I find I’m missing it – a hard read to follow.

It’s not about the plot which in this case centres on a mysterious deaf and dumb girl. She’s a poor orphan who’s been raised in a circus, and is seen and rescued by an artist by the name of Valentine Blyth who takes her home to his bedridden wife. Terrified of losing the girl they christen Madonna (because of her resemblance to a Raphael Madonna) Valentine keeps what little he knows of her past a closely guarded secret. It’s a short but sad history of a dying mother with a starving baby – a Good Samaritan takes pity on her suckling the baby, and agreeing to foster the infant Madonna (real name Mary) according to her mother’s dying wish.

Madonna grows into a lovely and happy young woman secure in her family and on the verge of falling in love with one Zach Thorpe – the exuberant son of a strictly puritanical father. An ill advised foray to a low bar brings Zach into contact with a mysterious stranger, and leads to his speedy exit from home, and this is where the plot thickens. Through a series of extraordinary coincidences the stranger turns out to be Madonna’s Uncle (through some equally unlikely coincidences Zach will turn out to be her brother), but as I said before it’s not really about the plot...

There are two things about this book that really made it sing for me. The first was the story of Valentine himself – he’s a very mediocre artist, but that doesn’t stop him living for and by his art in the most sincere way possible. It sustains him against every disappointment and brings untold pleasure with it – I like to paint and once had artistic ambitions and can’t tell you how true this rang for me, as well as being a happy reminder of something I hadn’t given much thought to recently.

The second was the story of Mary Grice the hapless young mother. She’s young, innocent, and not altogether wise when she falls in love, and falls from virtue – for which she pays a very heavy price. Forced to flee from her home she’s cheated of her savings and left alone and friendless; an absolute outcast from society. It’s a harsh punishment for a momentary lapse from virtue, but very much the correct fate for a Victorian maiden who strayed. It’s worth remembering too that it’s not very long since having a child out of wedlock was a disgrace. My grandmother put the fear of god in my mother when she was a teenager in the sixties by telling her that pregnancy would result in all of them being thrown out of home (it’s just possible that my grandfather would have done it to – that or not raised an eyebrow). Granny was speaking from not altogether happy experience of her own youthful mishap.

Collins however makes it clear that Mary is a relatively innocent victim, the reader is first invited to apportion blame to her seducer, and then the finger is unmistakably pointed at evangelical puritans; those who live by the bible but without an ounce of Christian charity. Mary’s lover is ignorant of her fate – he’s never given the chance to make things right. Her father would have forgiven and sheltered her, but he too is denied that chance. As everything unfolds it’s equally moving and thought provoking; if Collins could find a sympathetic audience in the 1850’s why was illegitimacy still such a disgrace 100 years later?

The Dead Secret – Wilkie Collins

Autumn isn’t my favourite time of year – I don’t mind winter but there’s something about the descent into it that I find dispiriting, but there are compensations. One of them is that autumn feels like the perfect season for Victoriana especially the more sensational kind and this September is being improved for me by Wilkie Collins.

There are a handful of his books I’ve been eyeing up for a read for a while and after ‘The Crimson Petal and The White’ I wanted to stay vaguely in period so went for ‘The Dead Secret’. It starts with a death bed scene followed by a dawn flight from a foreboding Cornish tower, and skips quickly to a dawn wedding some years later. In-between these events the only evidence of a Secret is hidden in said Cornish mansion...

When Rosamond Treverton marries Leonard Frankland it seems to be the most serendipitous of unions – childhood friends who fell in love, Leonards father has bought the Treverton family seat (that mysterious Cornish mansion again) Rosamond brings the money back to the family. Leonard Frankland has two important idiosyncrasies; he’s recently become blind and he’s very proud. His family were once landed gentry but more recently the money’s come from trade, something his father has taught him to be ever so slightly ashamed of. He believes in keeping a proper distance from the lower orders, in fact fundamentally believes in the idea of lower orders.

Rosamond is free from these particular prejudices, she’s a happy, loving, open hearted, and cheerful young woman devoted to her husband. If she has a fault it’s a quick and passionate temper. As the young couple journey south to take up their inheritance they are somewhat delayed by Rosamond producing a son and heir a month early. During her convalescence at a country inn she’s attended by a mysterious nurse who seems strangely agitated and warns her to avoid the Myrtle room at all costs when she reaches her new home.

All this warning does is determine Rosamond to find the room and reveal its secret – and here’s where the resemblance to ‘Cousin Henry’ comes in. The secret is contained in a hidden document which has the power to destroy Rosamond’s happiness and deprive her of her fortune in one fell swoop. She’s faced with the choice of telling her husband everything and hoping that love is enough to overcome his pride, or of destroying all evidence of a Secret no-one even suspects – something that would be made even simpler by Leonards blindness.

I hope it’s not too much of a spoiler to say that it all ends happily – both Leonard and Rosamond are unhesitatingly honest but this is by no means all there is to the book. In good Collins style there are a host of other bit players vividly drawn and displaying a plethora of eccentricities, there’s also the hint of a ghost story that conjures both real suspense and comedy into a particularly fraught part of proceedings.

Its Collins touches of comedy and the grotesque that make him so dear to me as a writer, but I think it’s his social conscience that elevates him to classic status. If ‘The Dead Secret’ is anything it’s an attack on the idea of class superiority. Here fortune is an accident – not even one of birth, what matters is a good and true heart, the rest being down to education and opportunity. Collins plays with ideas of legitimacy and identity in several of his novels, and reading ‘The Dead Secret’ it struck me again that surely some of the things he suggests must have been shocking to the society he belonged to. I think there’s some pretty revolutionary socialism going on here – as well as a turning on the head of my pre-conceived notions of what a Victorian audience would have found acceptable. Anyway I’m blowing the trumpet for Wilkie Collins – I think he deserves far more attention – especially when it comes to the lesser known novels, as the nights draw in and the duvet calls you can’t do much better for thought provoking entertainment!

The Augustus Egg painting above (one of a triptych called 'Past and Present') is just because I like it and because I feel it's in the spirit of Collins, though Collins would never allow such injustice to pass unpunished!

Just a couple more books...

Book buying has been a bit of a theme over the last few weeks, and something of an obsession over the last few days. The blonde took me up to her ancestral home in the very lovely peak district, we basically trawled the local book and charity shops in the manner of women on a mission (which we were) and came home with roughly 10 books apiece. Long story (involving charity shops, amazon, Waterstones 3 for 2, some very kind publishers, and a few independents) short I’ve managed to acquire a slightly daunting 40 odd new books in the last month. Some of them are real doorstoppers as well.

Just to be clear (mum and dad) I can still pay the mortgage, Derbyshire seems to be the home of the book bargain and I haven’t actually been all that extravagant, quite extravagant, but manageably so, at least in terms of money spent. I think I might have been very extravagant indeed in terms of the sheer amount of text I can reasonably expect to read (The Count of Monte Christo – I’m looking at you...) before the next very exciting crop of books start whispering to me. But then there’s nothing new about that.

There are a couple of books I want to keep quiet about until I’ve read, and some I got because they caught my eye, or because they were too good to leave behind but know I won’t read for a long time (again ‘The Count of Monte Christo’), so I won’t exhaustively describe every book I’ve acquired right now (although it’s tempting, but I think I’m the only one that would find it really interesting). However there are a few I’m just too excited about not to share!

From amazon there’s John Wright’s ‘Hedgerow’ – I’ve been so excited about this book coming out, it really is my most looked forward to title of the year and it hasn’t disappointed me, (there will be more to come about this one). For reasons I can’t fathom it’s proved impossible to buy on the high street, but anticipation only made its eventual arrival more exciting and my reluctance to be parted with it in the last week has become a bit of a running joke with the blonde.

Also via amazon E F Benson’s ‘Mrs Ames’, again no sign of this in any actual bookshops which is a shame because it’s a terrific book, and Ali Smith’s ‘Girl Meets Boy’. These are both books that have been hovering on my wish list for a while and I’m very pleased to have them. I’m also very pleased to have Nancy Mitford’s ‘Highland Fling’ which I’ve patiently waited for Capuchin to publish since 2007, ordered from amazon but actually spotted in The Bakewell Bookshop. (This is a fantastic bookshop – easily one of the best I’ve ever found anywhere, ever!)

Oxford World Classics very kindly sent me Wilkie Collins ‘The Dead Secret’ and ‘Man and Wife’ – I’m really looking forward to these and wondering about the wisdom of drawing up a reading timetable in the manner of those revision timetables which I ignored at school. Hmmm. Some organisation is clearly called for, any suggestions?

‘Mildred Pierce’ and ‘In Tearing Haste’ came from Brierlow Bar (another excellent bookshop, this time the bargain sort) I love the film and the book was recommended to me here a couple of weeks ago. My brand spanking new copy was half the price a used amazon one threatened to be, so yet again I’m very happy with this. ‘In Tearing Haste’ is one of those books that I’ve fancied for a while and which became irresistible at £3.99. It seemed possible that it might just join the rest of my collection of unread Mitford letters, but I’ve been reading bits of it and I’m finding it compulsive.

I collect Virago modern classics in a mild way (as does the blonde). It’s not a really dedicated collection - I only get ones that specifically appeal, but I’m getting tantalisingly close to the 200 mark. Nice green copies are getting increasingly hard to find (I’m up to date with the new covers/titles) so there’s always the thrill of the hunt involved in hitting on something new, or something that either of us have been after for a while. Edith Bagnold’s ‘The Loved and Envied’ was new to me and Mae West’s ‘She Done Him Wrong’ is one I’ve wanted for ages...

So – I’m not planning on buying anything for a while, and I think I’ll be staying in a lot to catch up on some reading over the next few months anyway – which will take the sting out of the lousy weather. But should the sun shine I’ll be out complete with my ‘Hedgerow’ book on a foraging mission, though I know the squirrels have already beaten me to every hazelnut within the city limits.

Well this one sort of fits the bill

A week or two back Cornflower asked for pictures that summed up a book. It’s an idea that fascinated and stumped me in equal measure. Ask a question like that and my mind goes instantly blank which annoys me all the more because I have a degree in History of Art – theoretically my memory contains a vast picture library which I ought to be able to call on at a time like this to provide something dazzlingly appropriate.

In practice it doesn’t, or at least it does contain a vast picture library (even if many of the details are a little fuzzy now) many of which are so dazzlingly appropriate that they have already been used as cover art for the books I have in mind. Some are dazzlingly inappropriate and reflect books I expect no nice girl would admit reading but that’s what comes of a liberal arts education.

Still this is something I wanted to take part in because that degree contributed a lot towards my reading tastes and preferences. I have a love of British art only partly born out of a complete and humiliating lack of ability to learn another language; it’s a love that reaches its consummation with the Victorians (though isn’t by any means confined to them), specifically in problem paintings and conversation pieces. It’s a small step from sensational canvas to sensation novel and combining the two only heightens the appreciation of both for me.

So after due thought and consideration I’m presenting Robert Braithwaite Martineau’s ‘The Last Day In The Old Home’, it doesn’t in any way illustrate ‘The Law and The Lady’ which is the book that I was trying to match to a picture but does, I think, share a lot with the average Wilkie Collins novel in terms of subject and tone. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do, and that I don’t get done for infringing copyright rules... The original is in the Tate (British not Modern), it and its brethren are not very far from the Pre Raphaelite collection but they are somewhat less popular and therefore rather easier to get up close too and have a good look at.

The Law and The Lady – Wilkie Collins

Or the best possible holiday reading. I’ve had a soft spot for Wilkie Collins for a long time now, indeed since finding a Victorian set (cheap green cloth covers and an aroma of mildew) lurking in our old house. I ran out of things to read and hit the Collins and I’ve read him on and off ever since. As an aside most the books went when the house did, but for some reason –and I’m assuming it’s because I didn’t put it back where it was meant to go – Dad still has ‘The Law and The Lady’, which also explains why it seemed slightly familiar.

It is now my firm intention to include Wilkie Collins in my packing any time I’m away for more than a few days. ‘The Law and The Lady’ has plot holes aplenty but I don’t care – it’s a ripping good read. It’s a good old fashioned story of girl meeting boy, marrying him then finding he was accused of poisoning his first wife. Boy abandons girl and she dedicates her life to proving his innocence. To do this she takes on her mother in law, the most startlingly un-politically correct insane cripple and his equally grotesque cohort, the law, and a woman chasing major. She travels the length and breadth not only of the country but the continent, refuses to listen to advice or reason, never gives up on her (frankly unworthy) husband and is in every way a pretty good heroine.

This is what I loved about Collins when I was in my teens and it’s what I love about him now. The hapless husband is a poor kind of a creature who Collins wastes very little time on, all his attention goes into Valeria – heroine and narrator, to Sara the Ill - fated first wife, and the supporting cast of improbable players that make the book such a page turner. It was a revelation then, and it still makes me wonder how his heroines went down in the 1870’s. Were they scandalous? Inspirational? Plausible?

I found them inspirational – far more fun than Dickens as well, no offence to Dickens fans, I like him too, but Collins adds an element of what I can only describe as high camp which I’ve never been able to resist. More importantly though he mixes it with remarkably strong women wronged by law and society and then brings them out triumphantly on top. It’s telling that the accused murderer in this book – the only character who can really know for sure he’s an innocent man, is yet content to accept an ambiguous verdict (and indeed behave like a fairly guilty man). It’s his wife who shows ingenuity, intelligence, bravery and determination, his wife who risks her reputation to save his, and his wife who succeeds where all the men have failed.

It’s a pacy and surprisingly fresh read. I can’t say modern because a contemporary writer wouldn’t get away with Miserrimus Dexter, and actually the only way I can think to put it is to say that if Dan Brown could write he’d write like this. I also got the feeling that this was the sort of things Wilkie dashed off to pay the bills with, which I also think has a direct relationship with how readable it feels today, ‘The Woman in White’, or ‘The Moonstone’ are better written but harder reading if you’re not really a fan of nineteenth century fiction... Now – off to amazon to make a comprehensive Collins list, and perhaps time to dust down ‘Armadale’ and give it another go.