Posts

The plot of The Evil Genius (1886) focuses on a seemingly respectable middle-class marriage which falters when the husband, Herbert Linley, becomes infatuated with his daughter’s governess, the orphaned Sydney Westerfield. His wife, Catherine, is made aware of the situation following the interference of her stickybeak mother, the eponymous Evil Genius. Although initially reasonable and rational, Catherine becomes furious when Herbert proposes setting up home with his mistress and taking their daughter Kitty to live with them. She whisks Kitty away to live in Scotland where the marriage laws are more relaxed, and manages to obtain a divorce, thereby retaining custody of her own daughter. Like Laura Fairlie in The Woman in White, she must fight hard to resist the immense power the law has invested in her husband. ...

Last year I reviewed Lady Colin Campbell: Victorian Sex Goddess. My only criticism was that the book focused very much on the court case, and there was little to satisfy the curious mind as to Gertrude Campbell’s subsequent career. Fortunately, Anne Jordan has just published Love Well the Hour: The Life of Lady Colin Campbell, thereby giving this redoubtable woman more sustained consideration. ...

Mona Caird is best known for her 1888 article “Marriage”, in which she argued that the venerable institution was a “vexatious failure”. A reactionary retaliation in the Daily Telegraph prompted 27,000 letters, with many of the correspondents agreeing with Caird’s gloomy assessment. The ensuing debate, “Is Marriage a Failure?”, captured the imagination of the public, spawning a book, an automaton, and a card game. The Wing of Azrael (1889) was published in the following year, and the novel was judged very much in terms of the author’s polemical writings. With this in mind, Caird included a preface in which she attempted to establish a clear demarcation between the two, writing: “however much this book may be thought to deal with the question so much discussed, there is no intention on the writer’s part to make it serve a polemical ‘purpose’ or to advocate a cause. Its object is not to contest or argue, but to represent.” Notwithstanding Caird’s intention, The Wing of Azrael is incontrovertibly a novel with a purpose, but it is, nonetheless, a fine example of the form. ...

Phineas Redux (1874) is possibly the darkest of the Palliser novels. In Phineas Finn (number two in the series), we saw the eponymous hero begin his ascent of the greasy pole, and he looked to have a bright future in British politics. In this sequel, the untimely death of his wife releases him from a disadvantageous marriage and exile in Ireland, and he once again bursts onto the London scene. Lacking wealth, however, he is placed in the position of a Trollope heroine: he must marry for money and resign himself to dependency. His choice of wife, therefore, must be entirely pragmatic. ...

I seem to have embarked upon a Wilkie Collins season and can’t get enough of him at the moment. Although Jezebel’s Daughter (1880) was one of his least popular novels, it certainly doesn’t lack interest or incident. The plot centres around the firm of Wagner, Keller and Engelman, which has offices in London and Frankurt. After the death of her husband, Mrs Wagner becomes senior partner and is determined not to take a back seat. Eager to continue her late husband’s philanthropic activities, she befriends Jack Straw, an inmate of Bedlam, and takes him to live with her in order to prove that ‘lunatics’ are not beyond redemption. ...

I hadn’t given much thought to anaesthesia until I read a biography of the writer Fanny Burney, who in 1811 underwent a mastectomy while fully conscious. Extraordinarily she survived, living until the ripe old age of 87. Burney’s is one of the many stories told by Stephanie Snow in Blessed Days of Anaesthesia: How Anaesthetics Changed the World, in which she charts the discovery and development of anaesthesia. The story begins in 1844 with Horace Wells, an American dentist who discovered that nitrous oxide (laughing gas) could eliminate pain during dental surgery. Unfortunately, his major public demonstration went wrong, leaving his patient squeaking and Wells’ reputation in tatters. The ignominy was too much for him and he later committed suicide. ...

After a life on the streets, Mercy Merrick successfully rehabilitates herself with the help of an inspirational sermon from a young clergyman, Julian Gray. Working as a volunteer nurse in the Franco-Prussian War, she meets Grace Roseberry, a genteel woman with an unappealing, but spotless, character. When Grace is apparently killed by a German shell, Mercy assumes her identity and returns to England. Using a letter of introduction meant for Grace, she is welcomed into the home of the wealthy Lady Janet Roy, becoming her companion and adopted daughter. Meanwhile, Grace has made an unexpected recovery, following some inspired brain surgery by a maverick German doctor. Grace finds her way home, only to discover that her place has been taken by an ex-prostitute. ...

Henry James wrote that Trollope’s “political novels are distinctly dull,” and confessed that he had been unable to read them. Although the Palliser novels, of which The Prime Minister (1876) is the penultimate, do contain a running political theme, I can happily report that these elements can be skimmed with no ill effects. Having said that, the collapse of a precarious Coalition government and talk of Tories in Liberal clothing have a certain resonance for current British readers. ...

Using only books you have read this year (2010), cleverly answer these questions. Try not to repeat a book title. It’s a lot harder than you think! Describe yourself: A Little Rebel (Mrs Hungerford) How do you feel: A Blameless Woman (John Strange Winter) Describe where you currently live: City and Suburb (Charlotte Riddell) If you could go anywhere, where would you go: East of Suez (Alice Perrin) Your favourite form of transportation: Comin’ Thro’ the Rye (Helen Mathers) ...

I’m wondering whether it took me as long to read He Knew He Was Right (1869) as it did for Trollope to write it. At almost 1,000 pages long, it’s the size of a business directory, and was instrumental in my decision to buy a Kindle rather than continue grappling with similarly unwieldy tomes. Trollope had recently resigned from his Post Office position when he began writing this novel, and his unsuccessful bid to enter Parliament presumably left him with an unexpectedly large amount of time on his hands. No doubt Mrs Trollope encouraged him to take on a major project so he didn’t get under her feet or start bothering the cook. ...