The Doctor's Wife by Mary Elizabeth Braddon: A Victorian Trainwreck

Victorian sensation is my kind of escapist fiction -- normally chock-full of over-the-top swooning, scandal, mistaken identities, dubious women, and rascally men. The Doctor's Wife by Mary Elizabeth Braddon is oddly lacking in the most dramatic elements -- and yet it is one of my favorites of the genre so far.

Published in 1864, the story begins with the short history of George Gilbert, a young surgeon, son of one of two local doctors in Graybridge-on-the-Wayverne, a fictional town in the fictional county of Midlandshire. He is expected to take over for his elderly father someday, and though a local brewer's daughter has been making eyes at him, he's not interested. While visiting an old school friend on a whirlwind week in London, he meets Isabel Sleaford, daughter of his mate's landlady, and his life is forever changed. 

Isabel is seventeen, dreamy and romantic, and lives for the novels and poetry that fill up her time when she isn't helping her stepmother take care of her multiple half-siblings, their boarders, and her unscrupulous father. George is instantly smitten with lovely Isabel, unlike any girl he'd ever met. I instantly adored young Smith, who was christened Sam but has changed his name to the more literary Sigismund. Clearly, he's a stand-in for Braddon herself, and the novel is full of delightful references to the writer's process.

Perhaps there never was a wider difference between two people than that which existed between Isabel Sleaford and her mother's boarder. Sigsimund wrote romantic fictions by wholesale, and yet was as unromantic as the prosiest butcher that ever entered a cattle-market. He sold his imagination, and Isabel lived upon hers. To him romance was something which must be woven into the form most likely to suit the popular demand. He slapped his heroes into marketable shape, as coolly as a butterman slaps a pat of butter into the semblance of a swan or a crown, in accordance with the requirements of his customers. But poor Isabel's heroes were impalpable tyrants, and ruled her life. She wanted to be like her books; she wanted to be a heroine -- unhappy, perhaps, and dying early.

Great cover on this yellowback edition.

But the acquaintance is cut short when the Sleaford family literally disappear in the middle of the night to escape creditors -- George and his friend Smith, a budding novelist, are lucky to escape without losing their own luggage. George is disappointed to cut the acquaintance with Isabel short, and a year later, he's thrilled to get a letter from Smith saying Isabel is now settled nearby, working as a governess for a distant relative. George wastes no time meeting with her and pops the question ASAP.

Sadly, though, Isabel realizes on her honeymoon that she's made a mistake -- George is far to pragmatic and thrifty for a dreamy, romantic girl. She is quickly bored to death in the country with little to do and doesn't get on well in local society, who are scandalized that George didn't marry a local girl.

He had married this girl because she was unlike other women; and now that she was his own property, he set himself conscientiously to work to smooth her into the most ordinary semblance of every-day womanhood, by means of that moral flat-iron called common sense.

A few months later Isabel is thrilled to meet a real Byronic hero -- the dark and handsome Roland Lansdell, heir to Mordred Priory, recently returned to the neighborhood from the Continent. He is everything that Isabel has ever dreamed of -- dark, handsome, moody, and a poet! He's handsome, bored, and rich, she's beautiful, bored and married -- what could possibly go wrong? 

Naturally, what follows is a trainwreck for everyone -- a bit like an English Madame Bovary, but if Emma Bovary were more sympathetic. I knew it wouldn't end well, but what was interesting for me was how Braddon got to the end of the story -- there were some twists and turns that I wasn't expecting and took me completely by surprise. There were less of the inevitable dramatic tropes one normally finds in Victorian sensation novels, and I've since learned that Braddon was determined to write a more literary novel. 

I really enjoyed The Doctor's Wife and I'd rank it as one of Braddon's best -- different than Lady Audley's Secret, but good in its own way. It was a bit closer to early Thomas Hardy than Wilkie Collins. I was really sympathetic to all the main characters and found some of the side characters really endearing, especially Smith who gives the reader such wonderful insights into the mind of the writer: 

Portrait of M. E. Braddon by William Powell Frith, 1865

And if I were a young lady," continued Mr. Smith, speaking with some slight hesitation, and glancing furtively at Isabel's face,—"if I were a young lady, and had a kind of romantic fancy for a person I ought not to care about, I'll tell you what I'd do with him,—I'd put him into a novel, Izzie, and work him out in three volumes; and if I wasn't heartily sick of him by the time I got to the last chapter, nothing on earth would cure me."

I'm counting this as my 19th Century Classic for the Back to the Classics Challenge; also counts for the Victorian Reading Challenge.

The New Magdalen by Wilkie Collins

On January 1 I dove right into Back to the Classics Challenge with a new-to-me Victorian sensation novel, The New Magdalen by Wilkie Collins. Despite being a Collins fan I hadn't heard of it until it was recently reprinted by Persephone Books which immediately placed it on my reading radar.

One of Collins' shorter novels, it's the story of Mercy Merrick, an otherwise saintly and perfect Victorian lady who through no fault of her own, has a checkered past -- she was once forced to work as a prostitute. Having since left prostitution through a women's Refuge, she's now working as a nurse in France. The story begins in a small cottage where she is nursing French soldiers, under attack from the advancing German army (the book was published in 1873 so this must be the Franco-Prussian War). There is another woman in the house, Grace Roseberry. a lady by birth but in reduced circumstances. Grace had been in Rome with her father, who traveled from Canada for his health, but ended up dying there. Grace had been en route to England, for a job as a lady's companion, when she was caught up in the war and trapped on the frontier. She has nothing but her papers, and even the clothes on her back belong to Mercy Merrick, as her own dress is drying by the fire in the next room.

Also adapted as a silent film in 1912! 

To pass the time while the women fear the advancing German army, Mercy tells Grace of her own sad history as a fallen woman. Then the unthinkable happens -- a shell hits the cottage, and Grace is killed. Mercy is evacuated with an English journalist, and on a sudden impulse, she grabs Grace's dress and all her papers, and assumes her identity. She sees this as a final chance for a better life, and Grace is beyond help, so no harm done there. 

Fast-forward several months, back in England. The newly renamed Grace is ensconced as the beloved companion of the steely but kind Lady Janet Roy, a wealthy and childless woman, and engaged to Horace Holmcroft, the journalist who -- coincidentally! -- is the son of one of Lady Janet's oldest friends. Horace has naturally fallen in love with the beautiful and perfect Grace, and his connection to Lady Janet is but the first of several amazing coincidences. Although Grace has had several idyllic months as Lady Janet's companion -- practically her adopted daughter -- her world will soon be turned upside down when her identity is called into question, and the truth of her sad and checkered past comes to light. 

 

I enjoyed this novel. It's a pretty standard Victorian sensation, with amazing coincidences, intrigue, swooning, scandals -- the usual. What's different about this one is the fairly serious subject matter of prostitution and forgiveness. Wilkie Collins points out the hypocrisy of the upper classes who are all talk and no action when it comes to Christian values. He does go over the top with the character of Merry who has literally no faults -- except for the prostitution, which literally is not her fault, as she explains in great detail. Collins also points out how few choices there were for Victorian women, particularly poor women. 

I did find the plot a little predictable and it was a little one-note -- it's only about 400 pages, short for a Victorian, so there's no room for sub-plots. It also seemed to have an abrupt finish, but there's an epilogue which explains what ultimately happens to Mercy, in the form of letters which are actually rather amusing. This would definitely be a good introduction to anyone interested in Victorian sensation novels who is put off by some of the triple-decker doorstoppers like The Woman in White or Man and Wife. 

I'm counting this as my New Classic by a Favorite Author Category for the Back to the Classics Challenge; and as my British selection for the European Reading Challenge. 

Man and Wife by Wilkie Collins

Victorian sensation fiction is SO MUCH FUN. If you read a Victorian sensation novel you are guaranteed many, if not all, of the following:

• Secrets
• Scandals
• Swooning
• Brain fever
• Wildly unbelievable coincidences
• Death by heartbreak
• Misunderstandings
• Mistaken identities
• Wills, forged and legitimate
• Adultery
• Bigamy
• Illegitimate children
• Murder

and just general bad behavior in Victorian times. They're generally pretty long (in order to fit all this in) but they aren't difficult reads and they are absolutely worth reading. 

So. Man and Wife starts with two proper young Victorian ladies, aged about 18, on board ship. They are the dearest of schoolmates and vow to be friends for life. One of them, Blanche, is en route to India, where she eventually meets and marries a titled aristocrat; the other one, Anne, winds up in Italy, where she becomes a celebrated actress and singer.

Flash-forward 24 years later. Anne has returned to England from abroad and has married a younger man, Vanborough who is no longer as besotted with her as he once was. He's a social climber, and realizes that his wife is holding him back. He starts gallivanting about the county without telling anyone he's actually married, and finds a rich woman who would help him break into society and quite possibly, a successful career in politics. 

Vanborough finds a clever attorney who finds a loophole in their marriage paperwork: since they were married in Ireland by a priest, and Vanborough wasn't Catholic, the marriage is not technically valid. He uses this as an excuse to leave his wife and young daughter (also named Anne) and start a new life. His former wife eventually dies of heartbreak, leaving her daughter in the care of her old friend Blanche, now Lady Lundie. 

Flash-forward again, about 12 more years. The younger Anne is now governess and best friend of Blanche's daughter, also called Blanche. Both her parents have died, and she lives with her widowed stepmother, the second Lady Lundie. Blanche II and Lady Lundie are hosting a weekend party one summer at their estate in Scotland, and two of the guests include Arnold Brinkworth and his best college mate, Geoffrey Delamayn. Arnold is a stand-up guy and is trying to work up the nerve to declare his love to Blanche and make her an offer. He's very different from Geoffrey, who can't be bothered to pick up a book and is something of a bounder, a ne'er-do-well; however, he's the best rower in Oxford, and once saved Arnold from drowning. He is also, coincidentally, the second son of Sir Geoffrey Delamayn, the somewhat unscrupulous lawyer who helped Anne's father slither out of his marriage to her mother. 

History begins to repeat itself with poor Anne Silvester, who just can't catch a break. She's caught up in a scandalous relationship and is trying to make it right, and everything seems to go wrong and spiral out of control, involving her best friend Blanche, Blanche's swain Arnold, and even Blanche's Uncle Patrick, the heir to her father's title and head of the family. Much of the action takes place in Scotland, and if you've ever read of Gretna Green, (a famous destination in Pride and Prejudice), you will learn more than you ever anticipated about Scottish marriage laws. 

Like most Victorian sensation novels, Man and Wife is a real rollercoaster of a book, with many of the elements listed above. However, this book took a darker turn toward the end with the real threat of domestic violence, which I wasn't expecting. It does have some very funny moments, where the omniscent narrator injects some wry comments. Also, I particularly enjoyed the character of Sir Patrick Lundie, Blanche's uncle, who is the voice of reason in the book but also dryly amusing. I really enjoyed this book and after a bit of a slow start, I raced through more than 600 pages in a week because I just had to find out what happened next. This is my seventh novel by Wilkie Collins so far, and I really think this one is my favorite. 

There are at least five more books by Collins that I still haven't read: The Frozen Deep, Basil, Hide and Seek, The Dead Secret, The Evil Genius, and Jezebel's Daughter. They all sound really scandalous and over the top, I can't wait to read them all.

I'm counting this as my second book for the Victorian Reading Challenge, for the Love & Marriage category. I'm also counting it for my 19th Century Classic for the Back to the Classics Challenge. 

Over-the-Top Victorian Melodrama by Mary Elizabeth Braddon

Since I started seriously exploring Victorian literature, I've made some unexpectedly delightful discoveries. One of my favorite surprises was Mary Elizabeth Braddon, a Victorian writer who is best known for her Victorian sensation fiction. Author of more than 80 novels, she's best known for Lady Audley's Secret, which I read several years ago for the RIP Readalong. When I saw that the library had her debut novel available as an e-book, I couldn't wait to download it. 

First published in 1860 as Three Times Dead, Braddon reworked the novel and republished it in 1864 as The Trail of the Serpent. Basically, there are three intertwining plots. The first is the fate of Richard Marwood, a somewhat ne'er-do-well scamp who is trying to turn his life around, and is mistakenly accused of the brutal murder of his wealthy uncle. Following a verdict of not guilty by reason of insanity, he's sentenced to life in an asylum, while a sympathetic deaf police detective tries to prove his innocence and catch the real killer.

The second plot involves a psychopathic schoolteacher named Jabez North, who was fished out of the river as an orphaned baby. He believes he deserves better than working as a teacher in a second-rate boarding school and is merciless and diabolical. 

The final plot is a wealthy Spanish heiress, Valerie de Cevennes, who lives in Paris and is secretly married to a star opera singer. A manipulative adventurer named Raymond de Marolles manipulates and blackmails Valerie, forcing her to become his wife and control her fortune. Eventually, all the threads tie up together into one super-dramatic plot.  There are swoons and fevers and poisonings and dopplegangers, and of course, lots of Big Secrets and dramatic reveals. 

If this sounds really over top and melodramatic, well, it is. There's a lot of swooning and mustache-twirling, and I wouldn't call any of the characters well-developed. It's not so much a mystery of who the criminal is, but really how they did it and more importantly, will they get away with it? 

Nevertheless, the plot is really great and it's a fun, fast read. It's one of the earliest British detective novels, published a full eight years (in its first incarnation) than The Moonstone by Wilkie Collins. And it always pleases me to realize that women authors in the 19th century were just as prolific as some of the men (which then leads me to wonder why the male authors are studied as canon, yet many of the works by women have fallen out of print and are largely forgotten). This is the Victorian equivalent of a vacation read and I really enjoyed it.

I'm counting this as my 400+ pages novel for the Victorian Reading Challenge and as my Classic by a Woman author for the Back to the Classics Challenge. 

A Long Fatal Love Chase by Louisa May Alcott

I often feel as if I'd gladly sell my soul to Satan for a year of freedom -- Rosamond Vivian, age 18.

What is that saying about being careful about you wish for, because you might actually get it? That is basically the theme of this book. Oh, and that men can be really, really, stalker-creepy. 

Believe it or not, Louisa May Alcott wrote novels that were NOT Little Women, Little Men, or Eight Cousins. In 1866, two years before the publication of Little Women, Alcott was in financial straits and quickly wrote a Gothic/Victorian sensation novel which was ultimately rejected by her publishers, even after major revisions. It remained unpublished until 1995 when it was sold and finally published by Random House, and became a posthumous best-seller. 

The plot is basically this: young Rosamond Vivian is living on an isolated island off the coast of England with her cranky grandfather, dreaming about an exciting life. She gets her wish when a mysterious stranger named Philip Tempest (I kid you not) comes to visit and steals her heart. He convinces her to run away with him on his yacht and all is well for about a year when she realizes he has a Really Big Secret, and that he may not be such a nice guy after all, so she grabs as much money and jewelry as she can in a few minutes and slips out the back; however, Philip loves her in a kind of twisted way and will not be denied, and he spends the remainder of the book chasing her all over Europe. She gives him the slip over and over, mostly with the aid of strangers who will help her because she is Beautiful and Good. There are a lot of intrigues, miraculous coincidences, and dubious characters. 

I enjoyed this book in the beginning, but as it wore on (and it's only about 250 pages) I began to get annoyed by Philip's character -- he just won't take no for an answer, and that's pretty disturbing. Obviously, women didn't have that many choices in the 1860s, but this guy is just a creepy stalker. He claims he loves her and she will always belong to him. Oh, please. Coincidentally, I just this morning read an excellent (and disturbing) post on Book Riot about the relationship between Jo March and Laurie, and which points out that Laurie is also obsessed and won't leave Jo alone. It is extremely eye-opening and it really makes me wonder if this is a theme running throughout Alcott's work. Alcott did write other potboilers that were published, sometimes under a pseudonym. If you're interested, here's a great  New York Times article from 1995 by novelist Stephen King.  

I had originally planned to read this for my Gothic classic for the Back to the Classics challenge, but as I was reading it I wondered if it really weren't more of a Victorian sensation novel. I'd say it's a bit of both -- Gothic novels tend to include mysterious strangers, locked rooms, and potentially haunted castles, etc. Victorian sensation novels are more about people with big secrets, and Philip's secret is revealed pretty quickly. I think this one could go either way. I'm actually going to count it as both, as a  Gothic Classic for the Back to the Classics Challenge, and as my Genre/Subgenre of my choice for the Victorian Reading Challenge.

Bloggers, have any of you read this book? Were you as creeped out as I was? And is anyone else going to reread Little Women with a more critical eye? 

Armadale by Wilkie Collins

Wilkie Collins is really well known for his early detective novels, and his Victorian sensation stories.  His most famous novels are The Moonstone and The Woman in White, but he was quite a prolific author. Two of the books I added to my Classics Club list are from his lesser-known works; I read and enjoyed No Name just a couple of months ago, so I was eager to read Armadale. 

The plot of this novel is really hard to sum up quickly. For convoluted reasons, there are two men who are named Allan Armadale, as were both their fathers. The story begins with the father of one of the men making a long deathbed confession as his toddler son plays nearby. After his father's death, this Armadale takes the name of Ozias Midwinter, after a foster father (which is very convenient for the plot, since it makes them easier to tell them apart.) When he comes of age, he learns his father's terrible secret, which involves the father of the other Allan Armadale. Due to the miraculous coincidences of the Victorian sensation novels, Midwinter has by chance befriended the other Armadale, and come to love him as a brother. He is horrified and vows never to reveal the secret to his dear friend. Unfortunately, there is one other person in the world who knows the secret -- a villainous woman named Lydia Gwilt, who decides to use this secret to her advantage.

There are few women in literature who I believe were created with such villany as Lydia Gwilt. She is a temptress, a schemer, a manipulator, and an all-around Jezebel. She makes Scarlet O'Hara look like a pushover in comparison. Seriously, if I had to make a list of Top Ten Literary Villains, she would be on it, and probably at or near the top of the list. Overall, there really aren't any positive female characters in this book, now that I think about it. Most of the men are pretty awful too.

Overall, I did enjoy this book, but it took me an awfully long time to finish it -- almost a month, compared to a relatively short ten-day read for No Name. It started out pretty well, but the middle really dragged for me. I think I got really annoyed with both Armadales and their relationship with Miss Gwilt -- they were such pushovers for a pretty face. Most of the men in this book were just putty in her hands; also, there's a young ingenue named Miss Milroy that was straight out of Dickens, she was so annoying. I was rather surprised after reading about the strong female characters in No Name. 

Also, I found the ending of the book to be overly dramatic and rather convoluted, as well as rather predictable; overall, not my favorite by Wilkie Collins, but not a terrible read. I still want to read Basil and some of Collins' other works. And has anyone else read something by Wilkie Collins? I've read four of his novels so far. Which do you recommend?

I'd planned originally to count this as my 19th Century Classic for the Back to the Classics Challenge. Some of Wilkie Collins' works definitely qualify to count as Detective Fiction (especially The Moonstone and The Woman in White), but I wasn't sure about this one. However, this book involves a lot of private investigating, plus they do mention Scotland Yard, so I've decided this will count as my Classic Detective Fiction.

No Name by Wilkie Collins

When I posted my list for the recent Classics Club spin, I got more comments recommending No Name by Wilkie Collins than any other book on my list. It got me really excited about reading it, so I've put off my Spin Selection (which turned out to be Sylvia's Lovers by Elizabeth Gaskell, which I'm also excited about) and last week I dove right into No Name. I was traveling last weekend so a big fat Victorian sensation novel was just the thing. 

Set in the 1840s, No Name is the story of two sisters, Magdalen and Norah Vanstone, and how they are cruelly robbed of their inheritance due to a terrible quirk of fate. Bereft after the death of their father, and shocked to learn they will inherit nothing, everyone expects the two sisters to live in genteel poverty as governesses. But the younger sister, Magdalen, isn't about to take this misfortune lying down. Her appeals to an estranged uncle are fruitless, so she decides to take matters into her own hands and use her acting talents to make her own fortune and leaves her family. Meanwhile, Magdalen has chance encounter with scoundrelly relative, Captain Wragge. She decides to turn the tables and use his dubious talents to her advantage. She's determined to extract revenge and restore her fortune. 

I think I loved this book even more than my two previous reads by Wilkie Collins, The Moonstone and The Woman in White, which are by far his best-known works. No Name is more than 600 pages, but I zoomed through it in on a few days (of course I did spend quite a bit of time in airport and airplanes). Nevertheless, this book really kept my attention.  Although it was full of amazing coincidences and melodrama (it is a Victorian sensation novel, after all), I loved how the relationship of Magdalen and Captain Wragge developed, and the book had tons of great plot twists. I could have finished it sooner but I couldn't stay up all night reading it after I returned from my trip. It is so annoying how work cuts into one's reading time!

This was a great, fun read and I'm really looking forward to Armadale which is the last Wilkie Collins novel on my Classics Club list. I think I'll also have to add Basil to my next Classics Club list which I'm mentally preparing as I only have 15 books left!

Aurora Floyd by Mary Elizabeth Braddon

So -- just back from vacation, where I did actually have time to get some reading done, what with long flights, layovers, and jet lag.  I can hardly go on a vacation without a big fat Victorian novel, and this time I read Aurora Floyd by Mary Elizabeth Braddon, the queen of the Victorian sensation novel.

Set in the 1850s, this is the story of the Aurora Floyd, who is young, spoiled, and rich.  Her father is a wealthy banker who fell in love late in life with -- gasp! -- a beautiful actress from a poor family.  Knowing a good thing when she saw it, Eliza Prodder married rich Archibald Floyd, nearly 20 years her senior.  However, they seemed genuinely happy despite all the sneering from the rich neighbors, but sadly, Eliza died in childbirth after just a year of marriage, leaving behind the eponymous Aurora Floyd and her doting but bereaved father.

Fast-forward seventeen years -- Aurora is beautiful, spoiled and used to getting her own way.  After some naughty behavior, she's shipped off to school in France.  She returns home to Kent after a year, looking poorly.  There are hints of some secrets -- is she being secretly blackmailed?  However, Aurora perks up eventually and is joined by her sweet cousin Lucy as a companion during the Season of balls during which all young ladies are essentially on the marriage market.  Two potential suitors stand out -- Talbot Bulstrode, the proud heir of a long line of aristocrats who is short in cash; and John Mellish, a blustering but lovable Yorkshire squire.  Both fall in love with Aurora, and at first it seems like Bulstrode is the lucky winner, though Lucy is secretly in love with him and pining away.

However, there's trouble in paradise.  A few months after their engagement, Talbot learns from a cousin that Aurora ran away from school and was MIA.  Suspicious, he confronts her, but she refuses to reveal her secret, and he breaks off the engagement.  Eventually, she marries Mellish, who promises never to ask her secrets and love her and trust her no matter what.  Of course, this promise comes back to haunt him when a handsome groom named James Conyers comes to work for her husband.  His appearance throws everything into turmoil, and that's when the book really gets rolling.

This book had a lot of great elements to it -- a strong heroine with flashing dark eyes, two men competing for her hand in marriage, blackmail, scandal, gossip, a detective -- it's a classic Victorian sensation novel.  A couple of years ago, I read Lady Audley's Secret by the same author, and loved it.  It's the second book I've read by Mary Elizabeth Braddon.  Aurora Floyd has a lot of the same themes, but I felt liked it dragged a little in comparison.  There's an omniscient narrator that editorializes a bit too much for my taste.  I did find some of the plot points pretty obvious, and the author definitely depends on the deus ex machina as a too-convenient plot savior more than once.  Overall, though, I'm accepting this book as a product of its time -- Mary Elizabeth Braddon was pretty groundbreaking as a Victorian author, not just as a woman author.  She wrote more than 80 novels, which is impressive for any author, during any time period.  Most of them are out of print but a lot of them are available for free on Gutenberg.org.

I'm counting this as my Classic by a Woman Author for The Back to the Classics Challenge, and this also counts for the Reading England Challenge.

My Top 10 Victorians

In my last posting about Dickens miscellany, Anbolyn mentioned in the comments that I should read Our Mutual Friend next because the brilliant author Sarah Waters' included it in her top 10 Victorian novels list.  Well, if you've read this blog, you know how much I love lists, so I had to compile my own Top 10 Victorians list!   I think I've reviewed nearly all of these since I started blogging in 2009.  They're ranked, but really close together, since I love them all.

1.  Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte .  The first Victorian I ever loved, so it has to be on the list.  I reread it again last year in preparation for the newest movie adaptation, and I still loved it.  There's something to be said for a novel that you love in your teens and again years later.

2.  Bleak House -- by far my favorite Dickens novel.  It has everything -- satire, comedy, melodrama, mystery, murder, and one of the first detectives in English literature.  It's a doorstop, but so worth it.

3.  Barchester Towers by Anthony Trollope.  The second in the delightful Barsetshire Chronicles.   It showcases  the best of Trollope's delightful arch humor, a comedy of manners in a country parsonage.  But do take the time to read The Warden first;  it's a little slow, but it's short, and Barchester makes more sense if you read them in order.

4.  Wives and Daughters by Elizabeth Gaskell.  The basis of one of my favorite BBC miniseries ever, just the thing when you've finished all of Jane Austen and are in mourning because she only wrote six novels.  Also includes one of my favorite lines:  "I won't say she was silly, but I think one of us was silly, and it wasn't me."  Priceless!  

5.  The Way We Live Now by Anthony Trollope.   Another Victorian doorstopper, but fascinating.  It's an extremely timely tale of boom and bust in the Victorian era, with a very familiar Madoff-like character.  It's 100 chapters, but an amazingly fast read.  

6.  Three Men in a Boat  by Jerome K. Jerome.  A very funny picaresque novel in which not much happens.  Imagine if Bertie Wooster went on a boat trip with two equally clueless friends, but left Jeeves behind and took a fox terrier instead.  A lot of digressions and amusing observations on life.  I've read it and listened to it on audio multiple time and it still cracks me up.  

7.  Middlemarch by George Eliot.  It's a little dry at first, but the last 700 pages are really good.  Does that sound strange?  A great story about several families in a country village -- sounds a little like Jane Austen but it also includes social commentary about the status of women, politics, hypocrisy, religion and a whole lot more.  Closer to Trollope than Austen.  

8.  Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens.  It has all of Dickens' trademark melodrama and it's a great introduction to his early writing. Also fairly short if you have Fear of Dickens.

9.  The Woman in White by Wilkie Collins.  A great page-turner of a thriller, one of the first murder-mysteries in English literature.  It's a Victorian sensation novel, but so much more.

10.  Lady Audley's Secret by Mary Elizabeth Braddon.  It's not great literature by any means, but a great page-turning story.  It set the standard for the Victorian sensation novel and has never gone out of print.

Well bloggers, what do you think?  Are any of these on your favorite lists?  Which ones make you want to scream and throw the book across the room?  Which Victorians are your favorites?

Lady Audley's Secret by Mary Elizabeth Braddon

I love this cover --
the swooning is so over the top!  

My very first RIP posting!  I've signed up for Peril the First, which is four books, so I'm well on my way.  This book wasn't originally on my list of potential reads, but after Amanda at Ramblings raved about it, well, I had to read it right away.  And I am so glad I did, because I just loved it.  This book kept me up late at night, and prevented me from reading not one but TWO books for IRL book groups last week!  I also neglected Spanish homework, housework. . . it was that good!

Here's the setup:  Lady Audley is a beautiful young woman with a mysterious past.  She recently married Lord Audley, a rich widower much older than herself.  Meanwhile, Lord Audley's semi-slacker nephew Robert has just run into an old school friend, George Talboys, who is returning from Australia.  George left his young wife and infant son three years ago, desperate to make his fortune, and he's returned now as a rich man.  Their fates will intertwine, and the story includes mystery, murder, mistaken identity, bigamy, and madness.  Braddon published this, her first novel, in 1862, and it was so successful she was financially independent for the rest of her life.  She went on to write more than 75 other novels, though this is still the most famous, and it's never been out of print.

I really enjoyed this novel -- it's not great literature by any means, but it's great escapist fun. The plot was fairly predictable, but writing was actually pretty good, and it's a fast read.  It does make some points about women's fates and opportunities, and Victorian ideas about madness and psychology.  The characters were good too -- sometimes I liked Lady Audely, sometimes I hated her, and sometimes I just felt sorry for her.   I had a pretty good idea of what the big secret was, but I couldn't help wanting to read more.   I imagine it would be on a college reading list simply as an example of its genre.  According to the Penguin Classics website, "Lady Audley's Secret epitomized the scandalous and irresistible "sensation" fiction of the period," which I think sums it up nicely.  In other words, it's popular escapist fiction, but popular fiction that has endured, so it's a classic in that sense.  According to Wikipedia, it was pretty sensational for its time because it showed the darker side to the ideals of Victorian domestic bliss.

Anyhow, this was a great start to the RIP season, and I've already found another of Braddon's books at the college library.  Hopefully I'll enjoy it just as much as this one.