I haven't quite finished Wilkie Collins' brilliant 19th century novel, "The Woman In White," but I had to go ahead and start my review to say that I am thrilled with it. I picked it up from the shelf because it was in the mystery section of my local bookstore, and I took it home because Collins had me on the first page.

Having its origination as a 19th century serial novel, "The Woman In White" is written in first person; in fact, it is actually a modified epistolary form from the perspective of several of the characters. This approach is engaging and revealing but feels a little clunky at times. From the perspective of a 21st century American schooled in the taut 20th century prose of Strunk & White, the story is sometimes needlessly convoluted and its sentence structures occasionally obtuse.

However, Collins' mastery of narrative is phenomenal--there is just the right amount of tension and release throughout the story to propel the reader through the 600-plus pages. Additionally, certain passages in the novel are amongst the most well-crafted writing I have ever encountered; his description of character is multi-faceted and detailed, giving his readers living people to engage with on the page. I pause from time to time in my forward-movement through the pages and take a few minutes to review a passage about a character or situation that I've just read because the prose is so amazingly well-written; I have to read it over and over again.

I plan to return with additional comments after finishing this superb novel, but I must say that, while I long to find what the outcome of the mystery will be, I emphatically do not want it to end!

"I am thinking," he remarked quietly, "whether I shall add to the disorder in this room by scattering your brains about the fireplace."

Written in 1859-60 by William "Wilkie" Collins and originally published in serial form in Charles Dickens' magazine (Wilkie and Charles were good friends), The Woman in White is considered one of the earliest examples of detective fiction, though it's really just the better part of the second half of this book that has any real detecting going on. Before that you have to wade through star-crossed love and the heroine acting all self-sacrificing (<---very bad idea, at least in this case). There's quite a bit of Victorian melodrama and some eyebrow-raising coincidences, but also some unforgettable characters and some intense suspense in the second half.

Walter Hartright - note the symbolic name - is a young art teacher. One night he helps a distressed lady dressed in white, who was wandering down the street, find a cab.



After she's gone, a couple of men chasing her tell Walter that she's escaped from an asylum. Oops! But the lady in white will soon affect his life more than he can know...

Walter takes a job for a few months teaching art to a couple of gently bred young ladies, Laura Fairlie and Marian Halcombe. Laura is lovely, quiet and timid (and also, BTW, bears a startling resemblance to the mysterious woman in white); Marian has a singularly unattractive face but a charming, outgoing personality. Guess which one Walter falls for? And Laura loves him too, though they never speak of it, except to Marian.

**some spoilers in the next 3 paragraphs for the first half of the book**

But Laura is an heiress, out of Walter's class, and she's also engaged to a older baronet, as arranged by her family, so she and Walter sadly part ways. He goes on an expedition to South America to let time, distance and adventure heal his wounded heart. She marries her baronet, Sir Percival Glyde, figuring, I guess, that she might as well, and he's always been kind to her.

After the marriage - which quickly goes south since Glyde only married Laura for her money, and has no interest in being nice to her once they're married - strange things start to happen. Glyde wants Laura to sign papers (she still has control of her fortune) but won't show her what she's signing, hiding everything except the line where she's supposed to sign. Even in Victorian times, that's pretty alarming for the lady involved.



Marian, who's living with Laura and Sir Percival, is very concerned for the fragile Laura's wellbeing. And she deeply mistrusts Percival and his other houseguests, the huge, urbane Count Fosco, who acts all affable but has a dangerous glint in his eyes, and his subservient wife, who stands to inherit a chunk of money if Laura dies.


Count Fosco

Things get more complicated from there, but I don't want to spoil it. The actual mystery is a little unlikely but it's an intriguing read. The novel had a few parts that were long-winded and/or sentimental in that distinctively Victorian kind of way, and (also typical of older books) there are a lot of stereotypes. For instance, the women tend to faint or get ill rather than be tough and useful, although Marian is generally an exception to that rule. But the story really sucked me in the further I got into it. Marian and Count Fosco are truly unique and memorable characters. Identity is a recurring theme, for the villains as well as some of the main characters, as are hidden secrets.

I especially liked the quasi-investigative structure of the novel, with narration by multiple characters, each with his or her own distinctive voice and point of view. The kind-hearted, loyal Walter; Marian, writing in her diary; Laura's whiny invalid uncle, who just wants to be left alone and is of no help to Laura in her trials; the prideful Count Fosco, weaving his plans; a couple of servants: all of them get their turn explaining their part of the events in this book. I thought that was really well done. As a lawyer, I found the lawyer's description of marriage settlements particularly interesting, along with the negotiations between him (acting for Laura) and Sir Percival's lawyer. And when he says, and then repeats, "No daughter of mine should have been married to any man alive under such a settlement as I was compelled to make for Laura Fairlie," it was a chilling moment.


Another Uncle Fairlie fail

Wilkie also has a sense of humor, which pops out occasionally. Walter describes Mrs. Vesey, Laura's former governess, so:

Some of us rush through life, and some of us saunter through life. Mrs. Vesey sat through life... A mild, a compliant, an unutterably tranquil and harmless old lady, who never by any chance suggested the idea that she had been actually alive since the hour of her birth. Nature has so much to do in this world, and is engaged in generating such a vast variety of co-existent productions, that she must surely be now and then too flurried and confused to distinguish between the different processes that she is carrying on at the same time. Starting from this point of view, it will always remain my private persuasion that Nature was absorbed in making cabbages when Mrs. Vesey was born, and that the good lady suffered the consequences of a vegetable preoccupation in the mind of the Mother of us all.

Buddy read with the Non-crunchy Cool Classics Pantsless group. Most of the group begged off - they seem to have some sort of aversion to 600+ page Victorian mysteries - but Evgeny, Jeff, Stepheny and maybe one or two others made it through the whole thing with me. Yay team!

Period illustrations are from early editions of The Woman in White.

This is an obvious precursor to myriad crime dramas & the "sensationalist novel."

I found it long but very rewarding. 600+ pages of different POV's (a novel concept then, but now widely utilized); two concrete settings; only five main characters (perhaps not more than 15 in all)... and it is all choreographed so beautifully. The settings are spooky; the motives of characters, although well known from the very start and from the intense descriptions throughout, still manage to surprise. No matter that The Secret deals with money & family skeletons-in-the-closet... & a bunch of classicist European stuff. All the elements I adore are here. It's Gothic, & the writer is like some British Hawthorne (Well at least I think so: & less like his peer, Charles Dickens*).

No matter that bad guys get what they deserve in the end... they arrive at oh so unconventional ends. Really! And the pacing is exactly what a serial novel of this magnitude would require it to endure. I kept at it... found it invigorating, elegant, and haunting.

*This was published in the middle of the 19th century, and along with one of Dicken's serialized masterpieces, this one also ran! Lucky short-living Londoners.

n  

"Why are we to stop her, sir? What has she done?"
"Done! She has escaped from my Asylum. Don't forget: a woman in white. Drive on."

n



I loved, loved, loved the first bits of the book!

Oh yeah, there will be SPOILERS so stop right there!

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I loved Walter! I thought he was going to be in the whole book and that's where I started to get a might irritated. Anyhoo, so Walter gets a job instructing Miss Laura Fairlie and Miss Halcombe. I might mention that his employer, Mr. Fairlie, was a complete twat!

Oh well duh, on the road to his destination, Walter meets the woman in white. She's scared out of her wits but Walter does his best to calm her and they walk together.

We don't see much of the woman in white in the book. She puts in an appearance here and there.

So Walter gets to his place of employment where he is to live and teach the girls and other odd bits. And of course, he falls in love with the delicate Miss Fairlie. BUT. She is to be married to this twat named Sir Percival Glyde. Miss Halcombe tries to get her to end the engagement when they get an ominous letter from the woman in white warning about him. And then their solicitor is unhappy with the arrangement when said hubby to be refuses for Miss Fairlie's (Laura) money to be willed to Marian (Miss Halcombe) and friends. And her twat father doesn't care. I swear I wanted to smack the hell out of people. And alas, she marries the jerk! Are you serious right now? You know he's going to kill you honey if you don't sign it over.

In the meantime, Walter was sent away by Marian which sucked. Laura had fallen in love with him too but went on with the other marriage. She was an idiot too. But I liked how it turned out in the end so there!

So here we go with the ladies at Laura's new home with a couple of other twats hanging around. The count and his wife. They needed a bullet to the head too.

We have a few more scenes with the woman in white, some more people needed smacking, a death, Walter back in the picture to take care of the twats, take care of the ladies, another death and some babies

Maybe 4.5. It's not a perfect novel but it is a really great read.

2 months and I’ve finally finished this. I was skim reading by the end though...

“There, as if it had that moment sprung out of the earth or dropped from the heaven - stood the figure of a solitary Woman, dressed from head to foot in white garments.”

The beginning of this book sets a great scene. Walter Hartwright is on his way to start his new job as a drawing master to two sisters in a big house in the country.
On route he bumps into a woman dressed all in white - asking directions to London. She seems distressed, almost ethereal. You could be forgiven for thinking she was even a ghost.

It’s a great start and I was gripped to find out more about the woman. However we soon realise that the woman in white herself is only a small part of the overall story. She only shows up a few brief times.

Meanwhile Laura and Marian start their drawing lessons. Before long Walter and Laura have fallen in love - but Laura is already betrothed to Sir Percival Glyde, an ass of a man.

Speaking of assess. Sir Percival’s dear friend Count Fosco is also an ass. As the story went on I found myself growing frustrated with all the back and forth. I feel like all the questions could have been solved a lot quicker. I know this book was written in the 1800s so naturally it would be on the long side. But as a 21st century reader I was getting fed up after about 400 pages.

Overall, I did enjoy all the secrets and how they came about. I just wish it was shorter and that the reveals were quicker.

Over 150 years later, The Woman in White still deserves its status as one of the most beloved and influential novels written in English. The combination of Gothic aesthetics, penny dreadful scandal, domestic drama and Victorian true crime makes it a mainstream delight for all readers, then and now. There’s even classic detective work that would, no doubt, go on to inspire the Sherlock Holmes mysteries.

Collins’ mix of motifs were so unique, and inspired so many knock-offs, that eventually literary critics dubbed The Woman in White as the first 'Sensation Novel'. Specifically, this new genre is said to begin in Chapter 3, when a woman clad entirely in white is found wandering metropolitan streets in the pale moonlight. Her inexplicable, ghostly presence, possibly being the escapee of an insane asylum, and mysterious connection to an arranged marriage elsewhere was the cauldron that officially swirled all these ingredients together.

Stylistically, Collins’ close friendship with Charles Dickens is observed in his similar fashion of language, with a focus on middle class characters and pacing that reflects serialized publication. In other words, the book is long. Probably longer than it should be, but somehow rarely boring.

Serialized novels, like TV shows, are meant to drag out unanswered questions and keep audiences in suspense to sell more installments every week. In some ways this results in a bloated story, but it also means a number of “shocks” every few chapters to generate buzz. Tension is a constant presence, with the assurance of “something bad” about to happen lingering on every page. Cliffhangers are plentiful, yet artfully placed and used to great effect.

The novel would have been read side-by-side with articles involving high-profile legal cases and true crime happening around London, adding an impossible-to-ignore realism to the dramatic fiction. There were a few real life cases in particular which appear to have influenced Collins directly, including the 1856 trial of William Palmer.

Palmer was accused, convicted and ultimately hanged for his particularly heinous crimes of using strychnine to poison a friend, his mother-in-law, his brother, and even his four children. It seemed every day new details about his motivations were revealed. For instance, he received a huge life insurance payment after the death of his 27-year-old wife—who supposedly died of cholera—and brother, whom Palmer poisoned. He was also proven to have defrauded his mother’s wealth to pay heavy losses from gambling debts. The murder of his children was suspected merely for the sake of having less mouths to feed.

Dickens described Palmer as "the greatest villain that ever stood in the Old Bailey” and Collins seems to have been equally enthralled by the events of the twist-filled trial. For modern examples we would have to think as big as O.J. Simpson or Jodi Arias, and even those may have paled in comparison. It is estimated that a staggering 30,000 people attended the public hanging of William Palmer on June 14th, 1856. There’s evidence which suggests Wilkie Collins was one of them.

The Woman in White, with its detail-oriented prose and carefully constructed mystery, gave readers a front row seat to what could be the workings of this type of domestic poisoning which dominated the news. When Count Fosco, the novel’s central villain, confesses to his exceptional skills in chemistry, Collins did not need to provide further explanation for how chemists could use their talents for evil. William Palmer made Victorian audiences all too aware.

Once The Woman in White started to appear in print, it was clear a phenomenon was brewing. Frequent discussions around the local pubs included bets over what Sir Percival Glyde’s big “secret” might be. “Walter” became an increasingly popular baby name, while “Fosco” was a favorite choice for cats who exhibited sneaky, stalking personalities. Circulation of ‘All the World Around,’ the popular publication which serialized the novel, drastically increased its circulation. Beyond the text itself, The Woman in White inspired spin-off merchandise including its own line of perfume, bonnets and cloaks.

While society has certainly changed since Victorian times, it seems Wilkie Collins’ story still hits on all the topics which fascinate us, including what drives people to crime, marriage anxieties, and a desire to put bad guys to justice. I’m not surprised at all that it continues to find such a vast and eager audience.

It's overblown, overwrought, written in the particularly excessive Victorian style, and way longer than it could have been. But it's so fucking brilliant from start to finish that it almost hurts every time you put it down.
The birth and the epitome of the detective genre.

This is one of the greatest books I have read in my life. The book is my first Wilkie Collins and I’m really glad to have finally come across him, for he has won a place as one of my favourite classic authors. Collin’s writing is admirably rich with poetic phrases and a good flare for vocabulary. Although his prose is a little long winding, he nevertheless has well managed to keep the reader’s attention on the story by his amazing ability at storytelling. There is also a cinematic quality to his writing. The events such as the first meeting between Walter Hartright and the woman in white, the first instance a vague resemblance between woman in white and Laura Fairlie comes to Walter’s mind when she walks on the terrace in the illumination of the moon, Marian’s brave conduct of climbing over the roof to listen to the hideous plan of Count Fosco and Sir Percival Glyde, Laura’s subsequent abduction and false imprisonment in the Asylum under the false guise of Anne Catherick, the meeting of Laura and Walter over Laura’s false grave, the fire in the vestry where Sir Percival was trapped and rescue efforts being taken by Walter Hartright, the impatient ride Walter takes to meet Count Fosco, were described in such a manner that it was as if you are seeing them rather than reading of them.

A novelty I experienced while reading this great book was Collin’s mastery in dominating over your mental faculties. Normally when I read a book, it engages with my own mental interpretations as I read along. But the reading experience of this book was so different. Collins never allowed my own mental interpretations to come into the light. He held them tight to his story and convincingly too, that I was unable to wander on my own.

“The story here presented will be told in more than one pen, as the story of an offence against the laws is told in Court by more than one witness-with the same object, in both cases, to present the truth always in its most direct and most intelligible aspect”. This phrase from the preamble sets the pace for the story justifying the use of several narrators to tell it – their reliability varying in degree. This is yet another new experience for me, hearing the story from so many different narrators. And I felt it is a refreshing method to have the story told through different persons, given the length of the book. This served two purposes; one was avoiding the reader from being bored with the story and the other is to avoid it being biased.

There were a hero and a heroine in the characters of Walter Hartright and Marian Halcombe. Their struggle to bring justice to Laura Fairlie, their dear beloved, who was the victim of a most horrendous crime, the courageous and perilous journey both of them, especially Walter takes on, to achieve this end certainly reflects the opening phrase of the preamble when it was said “This is the story of what a Woman’s patience can endure, and what a Man’s resolution can achieve”. I liked these two characters immensely and was connected with them instantly. I was with them through every step of the way of their difficult and dangerous journey collecting the necessary evidence to bring justice to a wronged woman. I also liked the character of Laura, the young innocent victim, who bore such vile cruelty with a calm resolution of her own. Then there are the villains: Sir Percival Glyde – an epitome of brutality and Count Fosco – the most sinister character that I have thus far come across with his cold, calculating, and brilliant brain. All these dark and dear characters contributed to the plot of the story to make it one of the best classic stories I have ever read. The book which is a pioneer in the sensational novel was a great success in its time and I believe still is which in itself accounts for its greatness.

I simply loved the book. Reading it was such a pleasurable experience. 5 full stars and a place among my favourite-classic shelf is what I can offer in return for so satisfying me.

What took me so long to read this wonderful suspenseful and well written classic? I rarely read mysteries and I was really surprised to find that a book first published in 1859 could be so chilling and mysterious and be as fresh and exciting today as it was in 1859

I started reading the book as part of a group read and the idea was to read the novel as it was originally published in weekly serial format and while I did try to stick with the rules I am afraid my curiosity and willpower got the better of me and I just could not put down this compelling and extremely well written mystery. So my apologies to the group for not sticking with the format of reading but grateful for the push to read a book that I might otherwise have missed out on.

" A mysterious figure, a woman in white, appears out of nowhere on a London street at midnight running away from someone or something and in a distressed state, she meets Walter Hartright, an a teacher of Art and little does he know but this mysterious lady will haunt him and change the course of his life.

Manor Houses, ghostly figures by gravesides, mysterious letters and asylums and devious characters are what make this such a compelling read. The story is narrated by several different characters, all portraying their their own experiences. The book is just under 700 pages and is quite a read and yet the pacing and plot development is extremely well thought out. I downloaded the book on my kindle but was informed by a friend that there existed an absolutely amazing audio version narrated by Josephine Bailey and Simon Prebble and while I was skeptical that my interest could be sustained for over 25 hours decided to download the Audio as well and was pleasantly surprised by how much I enjoyed the production and the fact that I was able to read and listen really added to the the overall enjoyment of this book. My only regret is my lack of discipline to read this one over the period of weeks as per the reading groups instructions.

A great book for readers who enjoy classics or Victorian mysteries with terrific plot lines with well developed characters and a little romance with good old fashioned twists and turns.

I'm not quite sure how to rate this. I can see why it's a classic and it was an engaging read for the most part. But the conversations felt overly lyrical at times and I needed to be in the right head space for it. It wasn't as suspenseful as I had remembered it but a good story over all

Laura Fairlie’s journal – June 6th, 1855

This morning in the garden I sketched a small flower and was overcome with exhaustion. I retired to my room, not before kissing my dearest darling Marian, and lay down upon my sofa for five hours. What a day! In the evening I played upon the piano, a quite difficult piece, which caused me to have to retire early and sleep for eighteen hours, once my maid Fannie undressed me and stroked my eyebrows. Usually Fannie from excess of sentimental attachment will gently rain down white rose petals upon my counterpaine as I fall asleep to infuse my dreams with sweetness. Alas she could not do that this evening as she was required to assist the scullery undermaid in clearing the waterpond of poisonous snails, so I slept but fitfully. Marian joined me as usual.

Laura Fairlie’s journal – June 7th.

A man smiled at me and I became very ill.

Marian Halcombe’s journal – June 8th.

As is universally understood, women are irrational creatures much given to frivolous whim and it is a situation earnestly to be desired that they be closely commanded by their menfolk, who at all times understand their best interests better than they themselves. I believe Sir Percival is trying to kill me, but that, as I have intimated, is his prerogative. I may mention that Sir Percival is the husband of my half-sister sweet kind innocent trusting pure lovely slenderwaisted Laura.
A man may beat a dog to tame it, and that is only just. Sometimes, I confess, I dare to think that a woman is better than a dog in the eyes of Our Maker.

The scullery undermaid has died from something, I know not what.

Marian Halcombe’s journal – June 9th.

It is the only joy left to me that I should be allowed each night to clasp to my bosom this divine creature my half sister Laura and sleep with her in my arms which can and on occasion does produce a cramp in both arms that will not dissipate all the following morning however vigorously I swing my limbs around. But I say a cheap price to pay for such infinitude of bliss. Today her husband shot both of Laura’s pet dachsunds, claiming an accident whilst cleaning his pistols. I am of a different opinion as I have detected that they were shot five and forty minutes apart. There can surely not have been two identical accidents whilst cleaning pistols on one morning. I simply cannot believe it. I believe Sir Percival wishes to shut us up in an asylum. As we look exactly like two existing patients in a private asylum in north London, this will probably happen on Tuesday of next week.

Marian Halcombe’s journal – July 11th

From my leafy vantage point I could see the clearly defined portly form of Count Fosco in the fallacious quivering moonlight. He had crept up to sweet kind innocent trusting pure lovely slenderwaisted Laura’s bedroom window and was engaged in spying upon her, for obscure motives. There he saw the young tender limbs of my own heavenly Laura clenching to her bedroom door frame as she leaned precariously out of her room in order best to overhear her lawful husband Sir Percival’s conversation, her husband in name only, who was, at that precise moment, in the very act of eavesdropping on me to discover how much I knew of his plan to kill me by means of an accident whilst cleaning his pistols.

Laura Fairlie’s journal – July 12th.

My husband addressed me in these terms :

"Many a fine brown egg must be destroyed to make one omelette!"
"Sir, what omelette is that? Make your meaning plain."
"What omelette, madam? Why, I – I am the omelette!"

Laura Fairlie’s journal – July 17th

Today I died.