Victorian

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. ...

Wilkie Collins, pondering his next plot 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. ...

Wilkie Collins, wondering whether he left the iron on 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. ...

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. ...

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. ...

Wilkie Collins drafting a prompt for ChatGPT Wilkie Collins is often overlooked as a comic writer, but Legacy of Cain (1889) shows him at his best, with several scenes causing me to snort indecorously on the train. The subtle humour leavens a novel dealing with the thorny issue of criminality and genetics, which could have become ponderous in less skilled hands. Prison chaplain Abel Gracedieu agrees to adopt the young daughter of a woman hanged for the brutal murder of her husband. Determined that she should not be tainted by her mother’s shame, he raises Eunice alongside his own daughter, Helena, and allows people to think them sisters. Even the girls themselves are unaware of their respective parentage. When an indigent and eccentric cousin, Miss Jillgall, appears on the scene, a series of events is set in motion and the putative sisters are embroiled in a love triangle. Malevolent characters appear from the past, and the curious begin piecing together the truth. ...

The eponymous Senator is Elias Gotobed, whose curious name alludes to that fact that he has a tendency to send people to sleep. After his friend John Morton inherits the estate of Bragton Hall, he travels to England with him, his fiancée Arabella Trefoil, and her mother Lady Augustus. The Senator is keen to undertake a study of English life, and is delighted when they are all invited to stay at Rufford Hall, the home of wealthy bachelor Lord Rufford. Arabella realises that the Lord is a greater matrimonial prize than Morton and encourages his advances. Frustrated with her lack of progress, she lets it be known that he proposed to her, a charge he vigorously denies. Lady Augustus threatens him with a breach of promise action and he agrees to pay Arabella £8,000 in ‘damages’. ...

Mary Elizabeth Braddon is, of course, best known for her sensation classic Lady Audley’s Secret, with its infamous eponymous bigamist. A contemporary critic actually thought Henry Dunbar (1864) superior, praising its “excellence of plot,” “animal vivacity,” and “boldness of incident”. Not all reviewers were impressed, however. Some were outraged by the central murder plot and Braddon’s handling of the theme of crime and punishment, in which she appears to argue against the death penalty. Capital punishment was a hotly debated topic at the time, with public executions banned four years after the novel’s publication. The compelling plot and topical themes made Henry Dunbar an ideal candidate for stage adaptation, and successful playwright Tom Taylor did the honours the following year, with Kate Terry appearing as the female lead at the Olympic Theatre. ...

Fellow Victorian geeks will recognise Madame Rachel as Maria Oldershaw, foster mother and business partner of the delicious Lydia Gwilt in Wilkie Collins’ Armadale. She and her beauty products were also referred to in Mary Elizabeth Braddon’s Lady Audley’s Secret. In this excellent biography, Helen Rappaport tells the true story of the woman behind the infamous creation of “Madame Rachel”, purveyor of dubious unguents which promised to make women “beautiful for ever”. ...