3,5/5

Wilkie Collins, amigo íntimo de Dickens, publicó en 1859 una de las obras considerada pionera del género policiaco y de misterio. «La mujer de blanco» es una novela epistolar (alterna diarios y relatos) de múltiples personajes que dan luz a una investigación al más puro estilo detectivesco que creó sensación en su momento y sigue siendo un referente en la actualidad.

La historia comienza con el relato de Walter Hartright que es contratado por el señor Fairlie para dar unas clases de dibujo a su sobrina Laura y a la medio hermana de esta, Marian, en Cumberland. Pronto se verá envuelto en una serie de hechos intrigantes y tras sus encuentros con la misteriosa mujer de blanco empezará a intentar resolver un intrincado puzzle.

A partir de entonces la novela se mantiene en una narración ágil, sumamente entretenida y numerosas hipótesis revolotean en nuestra mente, atrapando e incitando al lector a seguir leyendo hasta descubrir de la mano de los diferentes testimonios, la oculta realidad. Pero llegado cierto momento, la trama adopta un ritmo excesivamente lento llegando a una conclusión desprovista del encanto que la caracterizaba previamente.

A parte del ritmo frenético de medio libro, debo destacar la calidad de los personajes: Marian y el conde Fosco (el verdadero villano de esta historia), a pesar de que a mi humilde parecer, sus dos finales no son acordes a lo esperado pues pierden carácter y fuerza en la decepcionante recta final (al igual que la relación romántica con la que no he conectado y el abandono de la mujer de blanco que tanta importancia parecía tener). Esto es un sentimiento general con todo lo que concierne la conclusión que lejos de satisfacerme, cambia radicalmente todo lo que opinaba y sentía a lo largo de su lectura.

En definitiva, creo que este escrito es exquisito en su comienzo, la ambientación, la estructura narrativa, las pesquisas de los protagonistas así como la incertidumbre que atrapa y confunde, pero por desgracia el desenlace me ha sumido en una decepción irrevocable. Siento que hubiera podido ser algo excepcional pero se queda a medias.

”This is the story of what a Woman’s patience can endure, and what a Man’s resolution can achieve.”

This is how Walter Hartright, one of the protagonists of Wilkie Collins’s renowned novel The Woman in White, starts his account of events, and dear me! he doesn’t start it too well. This formulaic drivel about “a Woman’s patience” and “a Man’s resolution” certainly bodes ill, and from the way Mr. Hartright tells his story, losing no opportunity to fly into stale pathos – especially when he meets Laura Fairlie (men do seem to have a tendency to get wordy over Lauras) –, makes one think that a woman does indeed have to muster up a lot of patience in order to be able to remain in the same room with Walter. So does a man, so does a dog, so does a newspaper, for all I know.

Frankly, when I started my re-read of The Woman in White a few weeks ago, I had dim memories of not particularly enjoying my first experience of this novel, especially since I had read The Moonstone before and had the impression that the story of the mysterious Anne Catherick was not quite on a par with the story of the fateful jewel. Working myself through the often plodding pages of William Hartright’s account gave me the impression that my memories were well-founded but I decided to read on, anyway, and my perseverance was generously rewarded with a very good story – after all, The Woman in White is generally regarded as one of the finest and earliest examples of the Victorian sensational novel – and with some great and memorable characters, to boot.

Let’s quickly comment on the story first! Now, I am not particularly good at guessing how a story will develop and how a mystery will turn out in the end. When my wife and I watch a detective movie on TV, she will, after the first half hour or so, invariably snap her fingers and say something like, “Ha, I think that the first murder was committed by the butler’s half-sister, and the second one by the butler himself to pin it all on his half-sister, who now tries to cover the tracks in two murder cases. By the way, Tom Scuttles and the newspaper man are one and the same person, and in the end, Miss Talbot will marry young Snyder.” – It usually turns out that she is right, with me never having thought anywhere near it. So, when I tell you that I was quite surprised by how all the mysteries presented in The Woman in White were interrelated and how they were finally solved, it may not mean a whole lot, but still, that’s all I can tell you.

However, a good plot alone does not make any novel rise above the average rank and file. It also takes interesting and vivid characters to engage the reader’s attention. In this novel, I found three memorable characters. On the amusing side – although probably anything but amusing to people who have to live with him and to deal with him –, there is the hyper-sensitive hypochondriac Mr. Fairlie, whose egocentrism prevents him from carefully looking into his niece’s affairs and protecting her interests. The novel is epistolary in character, i.e. like in The Moonstone Collins tells the story from different perspectives, also adopting different styles in order to reflect the respective first-person narrator’s personality. Now Mr. Fairlie’s account begins with a sentiment we might possibly all feel inclined to share, namely, “It is the grand misfortune of my life that nobody will let me alone.” He then goes on in such a pettifogging and peevish way that it conveys a weird kind of pleasure to read his short account. Talking about “a count”, we then have the impressive Count Fosco, a man who is so full of himself – and of evil tricks and cunning – that his bodily frame has extended into Homeric proportions, and yet he is lithe and soft of step like a panther. Count Fosco is one of the most intriguing villains I have ever come across in literature – scheming, duplicitous, resourceful and cultivated –, and when he has confessed his crimes in connexion with poor Laura and her half-sister, he has the chutzpah to add, perversely not entirely without justification, since he also intimates what he could have done, “Judge me by what I have done. How comparatively innocent! how indirectly virtuous I appear in what I really did!” In this vein, measuring our actions by what we could have done instead of should have done, we are all perfect saints, and indebted for this saintliness to Count Fosco! Collins even increases the fascination inherent in Fosco by endowing him with a soft spot for Miss Halcombe – and this soft spot inducing him to play out all his superior cards.

Last, but not least, there is Marian Halcombe, Laura Fairlie’s half-sister, whose cleverness and determination contribute a lot to saving the day. One of my favourite passages in the novel sees her eavesdrop on Fosco and his accomplice Sir Perceval, and in order to do this, Marian climbs on a veranda roof, beforehand exchanging her Victorian crinoline for something more practical. This could be seen as symbolic of an early presentiment concerning the change of woman’s role in society, but unluckily, valiant Marian is eventually reduced to becoming Walter Hartright’s sidekick again – when I’d rather kick Walter’s arse than his side for his being such a boring prig – and later a loving aunt to Walter and Laura’s son, and a benevolent spinster into the bargain. She also seems to think rather low of her own sex, often making deprecatory remarks as to typical women’s pastimes or characteristics as opposed to men’s. Interestingly, the author endows her with the svelte and lovely build of a beautiful woman but then gives her rather masculine facial features and hands.

I have said it often before, and I’ll say it again, sparing myself the trouble to come up with a new idea: Collins’s style may not be anything like Dickens’s, and he may also fail when it comes to creating larger-than-life characters such as Mr. Micawber, Mrs. Gamp, or Miss Havisham – but his female characters are head and shoulders above Dickens’s self-sacrificing, blameless Little-Nell-dummies. Even Laura Fairlie, who, by the way, is one of the few characters in this story never to be granted the privilege of contributing her first-person account to the story but is rather constantly talked about and cared for, has a moment of strength and determination when she refuses to sign a legal document without being allowed its perusal first. In this respect, Collins was by far more modern than his friend and mentor Dickens, and this is one of the reasons why he is still so refreshing to read.

Completed--why only three stars, when I was so enthused about the book at the beginning? I will explain.

My reaction after listening to a third:
This is so much fun! I r-e-a-l-l-y need to know what is going on; I am super curious. The characters are very well drawn. Then audiobook narration by Ian Holm is very highly recommended. Who ever thought I would like a Gothic mystery?! I am so surprised.

The blend of "Gothic horror and psychological realism" is superb. The words in quotes are from the GR book description. They capture the tone of the book well.

My thoughts at the end:
The Woman in White is considered one of the first mystery / detective novels to be written. For this reason alone, it is worth reading.

Educated as a barrister, but never practicing as one, Wilkie Collins used instead what he had learned from his legal training in his books. Here, multiple narrators recount the tale, as in a court case where witnesses are heard. Walter Hartright plays the role as the detective. He is also one of the novel’s narrators. We hear from a lawyer, a housekeeper, a cook, a doctor, and different members of the Fairlie family.

Two women, Laura Fairlie and Ann Cathrick share a resemblance. How they are related is one of the mysteries to be resolved. Involuntary insane asylum confinement, forgery of registry documents, mistaken identities, serious and hypochondriacal illnesses, fires and murders fill the register of events that must be made sense of. And, of course, there is a love thread to be followed too. Is the end going to be happy or sad? All you have to base your guess on is that Wilkie Collins and Charles Dickens collaborated with each other and were good friends.

The story was originally published in serial format during 1859 and 1860 in Charles Dickens’ journal All the Year Round. Having become a huge hit, in 1860 it was released as a novel.

There, now you have the background, but what did I think on completing the novel? It is too long and too drawn out! By the end I was totally fed up. Parts of the story are repeated over and over again, but at the same time, the most essential tidbits are withheld. Why? To create suspense. My patience was worn thin. I grew so exasperated that I no longer even cared who did what and why and when and how! By the end every aspect has been detailed minutely and more than once.

The story begins by arising one’s curiosity through the depiction of intriguing characters. Some bizarre, each unique in their own way. Up to this point I was intrigued. Then the story shifts from character portrayal to a plot-oriented solution of mysteries involving multiple crimes. Misconceptions and dead ends abound. They are included for the sole purpose of confusing the reader. I am guessing that those who love solving mysteries eat this stuff up. I get annoyed. Too many farfetched plot contingencies draw out the story. It loses shape, form and credibility. I will cite one example--the inclusion of Count Fosco’s and Professor Pesca’s membership in the Brotherhood. This pulls the tale in a new direction that is quite simply not necessary..

I am giving the book three stars, averaging out what I liked at the beginning and disliked at the end. I am glad it is over and will not be reading more by the author. Sure, I am glad I gave it a try but one by the author is enough for me.

The audiobook narration by Ian Holm was excellent from start to finish. The narration is in fact worth five stars. He captures each character’s personality magnificently. Gosh, how he intones Frederick Fairlie simply has to make you laugh. He makes you jump with suspense. Maybe his intonation for Marian Holcombe, Laura Fairlie’s half-sister, is a teeny bit too masculine, but this can be excused since the intonation is not completely off. One senses her devotion to Laura and one perceives her as a thoughtful, meticulously accurate and diligent teller of events. I highly recommend this narrator if you choose to listen to the audiobook.

This Wilkie Collins classic, written in 1860, is a multi-layered mystery written with elaborately defined detail resulting in some pretty amazing and memorable characters. The beginning of the story really grabs your attention with the suspicious appearance, in the dead of night, of the mysterious Woman in White and keeps you anxious to find out the reason for her distress throughout the book.

This novel was not quite what I expected (no ghosts) and required dedication on my part bc I wanted to know "the secrets" at a faster pace, but as I kept reading, it became obvious the author's intent was to keep the reader in suspense questioning bizarre actions and wondering who to trust while searching for motives and the truth.

A bit of romance, a multitude of lies, scheming of the most evil kind and even a few laughs (the neurotic Mr. Fairlie) is what you will find in this slow building complex tale. Another great classic!

Beautifully written Victorian gothic mystery novel. So beautifully written, in parts, that it pains me to give it three stars. I had to give it this so-so rating, however, due to the fact that Laura Fairlie is just SO dumb. So dumb. I don't know if I've ever encountered a more stupid character in any other Victorian novel. She is completely helpless and hapless, which makes Walter Hartright's obsession with her quite perplexing. She can't even carry a normal conversation most of the time, withering away into a pathetic bundle of ragged nerves at the first hint of even a mild calamity. No life decision is too easy for her - if you were to tell her the tea in the pantry was gone and could she please go to the store to get some more, she would probably collapse into a chair in a complete fright. She does nothing, absolutely NOTHING, of value for the entire book. I do not think she even knows how to choose her own meal. Meanwhile her beloved Walter is running willy-nilly, risking life and limb for her every page. It’s incredible. And Collins decided to write an 800 page novel revolving around her life story!

Still though, this was a fairly entertaining novel and parts of it were quite dark and gothic and very enjoyable to read, so I can easily see how this is one of the best known gothic Victorian novels. Also bonus points for Count Fosco - the scheming giant of a man was probably the most interesting and best written character in the whole thing.

Too bloody long and overwritten. It sort of took away the tension and mystery.

I've wanted to read this for a long time, ever since I've ofunds out that Fingersmith by Sarah Waters was inspired by this novel. I can see the resemblance but they are different in many aspects.

The Woman in White is a serialised novel, which means it appeared first in many numbers of a literary magazine. The one owned by Charles Dickens, to be precise. The aim was to fill as many editions as possible so most of these novels tend to be on the longer side. Great Expectations is another example of these books but I loved that one. I lost my patience here, probably because it is written as a series of testimonials from different people. I saw this tactic used in many classics, with more or less successful results. This should have been a good one but I admit I got bored midway through.

Walter Hartright is employed as a drawing master to the beautiful Laura Fairlie. On the road to his employer he meets a mysterious Woman in White. He helps her get a cab and then continues on his way. There he falls in love with Laura, who is promised to Sir Percival Glyde. When Laura and her sister got to live in Glyde's estate, things become very dire and strange for the two women. Wilkie Collins is said to be the first author to combine Gothic horror with psychological realism. I thought the plot to be very well woven, and it would have gotten 5* from me ,were it 150 pages shorter. The way the author wrote a phrase tired me many time, I have to admit. It made me think of those houses that have too many ornaments.

Walter Hartright comes across a woman clad in white on a moonlit night; a tutoring assignment finds his student to be identical to the Woman in White! What starts as a daring affair slowly but surely evolves into a waste against time to save his amour as the privilege seek to destroy her! A thoughtful and controversial detective mystery that was built around the gender inequality of the day as the antagonists use their male power to subvert their victims!

Originally published in Charles Dickens 'All Year Round' periodical from 1859 to 1860 this 'sensation' novel serial was a commercial success but not so much so with the critics. Sometimes framed as a supernatural, horror and/or mystery work, this ultimately, became with the passage of the time one of the earliest detective genre reads, and it still stands tall today, in my opinion, 8 out of 12, Four Star Read. Although warning it does really go to town with details, but that might be my impatient 21st century brain moaning.

The pic and GIF are from the 1948 movie adaptation starring Alexis Smith, Eleanor Parker, Sydney Greenstreet, and Gig Young.
2022 read

4.5

“Through all the ways of our unintelligible world, the trivial and the terrible walk hand in hand together.”

Setting aside all the big and little things that don't really stand the test of time, I enjoyed it immensely. Moreover, it was kind of amusing to identify all the tropes that were alien to our modern sensibilities and to reimagine them in a perspective closer to us and our tastes. And yet, this thought was always accompanied by the awareness that changing the tiniest detail of (some of) Collins's characters would be nothing short of sacrilegious: Count Fosco, Marian Halcombe, and Mr Fairlie (yes, Mr My-Poor-Nerves Fairlie: his narrative is a masterpiece, and nothing will ever make me change my mind about this) are beyond any praise any words of mine could give.
This doesn't mean that The Woman in White gave me only joys. The award for Most Passive Character of the Year goes to Miss Laura Fairlie, for whose disappearance I yearned from page one to the infinity and beyond.

If you are ready or why not, eager, to put up with 700 pages of Victorian sensationalism at its purest, Collins is your man, and The Woman in White is your book.

This book is an amazing teaching tool. Not because it conveys any great lessons in life or exhibits profound understanding and insight but because it so clearly delineates the beauty and differences in 19th century writing and 21st century writing.

The story is definitely very gothic and one of the best mysteries available. It is in the length of the story - most especially the length of the writing that will probably cause many readers to balk. The descriptions, the conversations, the ideas... virtually everything is pondered at length. Reading this in today's society, where TV, the internet, pictures, videos etc. etc. grant us instant understanding and gratification, can be a tedious and boring job. In order to truly appreciate Collins writing, one must put themselves in the shoes of a reader amid 19th century standards. Most people knew little of life outside their small communities. Few traveled or had experience with people and places beyond the immediate. Thus the need for long explanations and descriptions. It was the only door open for a reader to experience life beyond.

A perfect example would be the description of Count Fosco, a very large Italian man. His description was so intricate and detailed as to take pages (not paragraphs - pages.) To us, that description might seem never-ending. To one who had probably never seen, let alone known an Italian man - good or bad - it described one so perfectly that the reader (without our modern day photography) could picture him with ease.

Therefore, any accurate review of this book must allow for those differences. Readers who enjoy the beauty of the written word just for itself will absolutely revel in this story. Those who are more story driven will need to put on their patience caps to get through it. The story itself is immaculately well-done, it is dark without being terrifying, riveting without being graphic. It is just couched within a style long forgotten and truly appreciated.

Πολυεπίπεδο αριστούργημα από τον Γουίλκι Κόλινς, το οποίο διαβάζεται με αμείωτο ενδιαφέρον, διατηρεί την αρχική του φρεσκάδα και μεις οι αναγνώστες καταλαβαίνουμε την αξία της καλής κλασικής λογοτεχνίας.
Ο συγγραφέας φτιάχνει ένα βικτωριανό ψηφιδωτό, με πολλούς χαρακτήρες, μυστήριο και συνεχείς ανατροπές ενώ παράλληλα δεν διστάζει να διαχειριστεί θέματα που σίγουρα για την εποχή που γράφτηκε το βιβλίο θεωρούταν ταμπού, απαγορευμένα ή και βλάσφημα.
Το βιβλίο μπορεί να λειτουργήσει σε πολλά επίπεδα, αλλά το βασικό του πλεονέκτημα είναι η ιστορία και ο εκπληκτικός τόπος γραφής του Κόλινς.
5/5

Hay que tener paciencia con Wilkie Collins, pero, al final, te deja un buen sabor de boca.
Dicen que Collins es el precursor de la novela negra y, en cierta manera, se nota en sus libros.
No me apasionó todo el entramado amoroso, pero los personajes son de una profundidad enorme. Hace tiempo que lo leí y sigo acordándome de ellos. Un clásico imprescindible.

You have to be patient with wilkie Collins, but in the end it leaves a good taste in your mouth.
They say Collins is the forerunner of the crime novel and, in a way, you can see it in his books.
I wasn't passionate about the whole love network, but the characters are of enormous depth. I've been reading it for a long time and I still remember them. An indispensable classic.

Questa è la storia di quel che la pazienza di una donna può sopportare,
e che la determinazione di un uomo può ottenere.  





Un anno: dal 1859 al 1860.
Questo l’arco di tempo in cui, sulla rivista diretta da Charles Dickens - Household words, uscì a puntate la storia de “La donna in bianco”.
Un anno in cui – come testimonia l’autore stesso nella prefazione- la redazione riceveva regolarmente lettere da parte dei lettori che non solo si appassionavano sempre più ma si identificavano con i personaggi.
Mi piace pensare come, in un’epoca così lontana dalla nostra, non solo dal punto di vista temporale, ma anche per l’evidente cavalcata dei progressi scientifici e tecnologici, ecco, mi piace pensare a quell’atmosfera carica di ansia che attendeva l’uscita del giornale per poter soddisfare la curiosità dell’enigma di questa storia.
Nonostante io non sia per nulla un’appassionata vittoriana, ho letto questo libro con gran piacere. Confesso di aver sghignazzato, ogni tanto, per quelli che considero eccessi zuccherosi e battute da alto melodramma, oppure per alcuni risvolti propri del giallo che all’odierna luce del Luminol appaiono come ingenue strategie narrative.
Ammetto anche la stizza per la traccia misogina.
Ovvio che tutto va contestualizzato e in definitiva la lettura è proprio della sua epoca e compie il dovere di intrattenere ed appassionare chi gira le pagine.
D’altra parte le mire letterarie che Collins esprime nella prefazione alla seconda edizione, sono così riassunte:

” L’unica narrativa che può sperare di far breccia nell’attenzione dei lettori è quella narrativa che parla loro di uomini e di donne - per la ragione perfettamente evidente che essi stessi, i lettori, sono uomini e donne.”

Sicuramente, l’autore raggiunge questo intento.
“La donna in bianco” non è, tuttavia, solo un romanzo che tiene incollati alle pagine per la curiosità di conoscere il mistero ma comprende anche una profonda caratterizzazione dei personaggi:
Laura, Miss Marian Halcombe, Anne Catherick, Il Conte Fosco, Mr Fairlie, Sir Percival Glyde e Walter Hartright.
Una schiera variegata di caratteri che Collins muove con grande abilità.
A ciò si deve aggiungere l’originale struttura narrativa; ogni capitolo, difatti, riporta la voce di un testimone come se ci si trovasse in un’aula di tribunale.
Ecco questi i gustosi ingredienti del piatto.

E la storia?
Beh, basti sapere che è costituita da apparizioni e sparizioni, dove i contorni di ciò che appare possono assumere una forma diversa con la luce giusta...


” E lì, al centro della strada luminosa - lì, come se fosse spuntata in quel momento dalla terra, o caduta giù dal cielo - vidi stagliarsi solitaria la figura di una donna, vestita di bianco dalla testa ai piedi, che mi scrutava con espressione grave, e con la mano indicava la nuvola scura sopra Londra, guardandomi dritto negli occhi.
Ero troppo sconvolto dalla violenza di quella straordinaria apparizione, piombatami davanti all’improvviso nel cuore della notte e in quel posto desolato, per chiederle cosa volesse da me. Fu quella donna misteriosa a parlare per prima.
«È questa la strada per Londra?», mi chiese.”