Perhaps it is not surprising that I managed to guess the 'who', if not the how of this prototype mystery. What may be somewhat of a surprise is that this recognition did not make the book tedious, nor did it become a plodding step-by-step towards inevitability like many mysteries are.

Like The Virginian, this predecessor of a genre never seems to fall into the same traps as its innumerable followers. Indeed, with both these books, the focus itself becomes something entirely different than the obsession it inculcates in others.

Though this book certainly contains a mystery, a set of clues and twists, and a brilliant detective, the focus is not on these but on the characters themselves. Firstly, there is the fact that the book is narrated in sections by different observers and participants. Secondly, there is the fact that the chief mover of the entire series of events is never the mystery itself, but the maddening effect that the unknowns and miscommunications have on the personal relationships surrounding the events.

The characters themselves, chiefly in the case of the narrators, are such discrete and believable characters that part of the enjoyment of the book becomes an appreciation for the author's knowledge of human behavior and ability to represent wholly different mindsets without any lingering authorial voice intruding.

It is not only the psychology of the characters and their movements which are represented here, but also the little shifting falsities of how they see themselves and how they are seen by others, none of which represent a truthful opinion, but all of which flow from the way people generalize one another.

Collins succeeds greatly at the old authorial adage that one should show instead of tell, as innumerable details and observations build up to give us a more thorough view. He does have somewhat of an easier time of this due to his method, it may be noted. By using constant and somewhat unreliable narrators, he may be seem to be telling, but in truth these opinions represent more about the narrator than about those whom they cast their judgment upon.

Also like The Virginian, Collins carries with him a strong and concise voice bred of that Victorian generation for whom Austen was the venerable master. He was also, it may be noted, a close friend to Dickens.

Another pleasantry with both authors is that they retain a certain humility, such that they never seek out more lofty heights than their prose may bear up. This is the reason their stories each stand as the foundation of pulp movements, whose writers were more concerned with writing to their own ability than to reaching for far-flung achievements they might or might not be equal to.

However, while those later authors attached themselves so much to archetype and rare coincidence to produce the strength of their work, the earliest hands to touch the page were fueled by human emotion and character. There is some sense of stereotypical characterization in The Moonstone, but it is tempered by extending even the joke characters a surfeit of humanity.

That being said, the main joke character in this book nearly drove me down in the few chapters she stood as narrator. It was not because she was too ridiculous, not because she was annoying, nor too cliche. She was simply too accurate to a type of person I loathe to meet or to spend a free minute with; namely: the self-righteous, proselytizing old maid.

This was the curious tangent which passed between this text and 'The Screwtape Letters', which I was also reading at the time. It was especially marked in comparison to the earlier narrator, who though simple, retained a charm and a welcoming humility in his various shortcomings.

It always seems a shame to look at the first movement of a genre, be it Wister's, Collins', or Tolkien's, as those creators who later move to take up the torch miss the point: that independent of the magic or mystery or gunfight being the main event, what keeps and impresses the reader is the emotional content, psychology, and strength of the pure writing, itself. Collins stands in good stead with the other innovators in this: that his work is a fine novel that happens to be a mystery, and not the other way 'round.

P.S. Some may point out Poe as originator of the mystery, or even point to older cases. This is an old debate, which I will not enter into, suffice it to say that Collins is the first example of a mystery novel, as Poe believed one should never write something which takes more than a sitting to read. I'm glad Collins didn't feel this way, but it's probably good that Poe limited himself. Collins also originates most of the Mystery tropes in this work, which is a tally in his favor.

A wonderful, classic detective novel. I loved the switching viewpoints! It was funny and fun and even though I guessed the culprit, the how and why left me baffled. Well worth reading!

Trigger warnings: colonialism, drug use/addiction, death, suicide, racism, racial slurs, murder.

14/6/2022
On this reread, I'm bumping this up to a full 5 stars because it's just. so. much. fun. The characters are great. The mystery is fun. It's actually surprisingly sympathetic to the three Indians who come looking for the Moonstone. All in all? I'm really glad I reread this. And I also watched the BBC miniseries I wanted four years ago and it was pretty stinking great.

21/7/2018
4 stars.

Okay so apparently don't mark rereads as finished on the new Android app because IT WILL WIPE YOUR ENTIRE REVIEW. Seriously, I had reviews here from 2017 and 2013 and now they're gone forever. Thanks a lot, Goodreads.

Anyway.

I first read this book back in the early 2000s. After reading and loving The Woman in White for an English class in first year uni, I basically went through every Wilkie Collins book that my university library had because I'm trash. And I continue to love this story and the way that it's told to this day. Thanks to the narratives of Betteredge and Miss Clack, it's full of sly humour and just plain ridiculous moments. It's also full of mystery, romance, and tragedy and it does a great job at representing what life was like for both the rich and their servants in the middle of the nineteenth century.

Is the overall whodunnit beyond ridiculous? Uh, yes. It's called Sensation Fiction for a reason. But is it an absolute joy from start to finish? Also yes.

In summary: read it. Also if the BBC would like to produce a glorious multi-episode miniseries of it, that would be delightful.

The only London house Charles Dickens lived in which is still standing, is at 48 Doughty St. It has been converted into a museum, and at the moment is showing an exhibition called “Mutual Friends: The Adventures of Charles Dickens & Wilkie Collins”. Yet this is a museum devoted to the life and works of Charles Dickens! Even the name of the exhibition is a clever pun on one of Dickens’s novels.

Wilkie Collins wrote more than twenty novels and around 100 short stories, as well as a dozen plays, numerous essays and pieces of journalism. His books have attracted readers for a more than a century and a half and his unconventional lifestyle has intrigued the literary world for nearly as long. So apart from having a similarly large output, and living in the 19th century, what do these two authors have to do with one another?

The answer is that Charles Dickens and Wilkie Collins wrote many works together. Their catalyst was Dickens’s close friend, mentor (and ultimately biographer) John Forster. Both men surrounded themselves with a vibrant circle of authors, artists, playwrights and performers, and although Dickens had many friends, his friendship and collaboration with Wilkie Collins was to become one of the most significant partnerships of both their lives.

It was on 12th March 1851, at John Forster’s house, where this life-changing event occurred. Charles Dickens was introduced to a young man who was a law student at Lincoln’s Inn, but also, like himself, was an amateur actor performing in a mutual friend’s play. So began a personal and professional relationship that would last over 15 years.

Charles Dickens quickly became Wilkie Collins’s friend and mentor, and went on to publish Collins’s story “A Terribly Strange Bed” in April 1852 in his magazine: “Household Words”. The story was very popular, and is still often published in modern anthologies of “Terror and the Supernatural”. From then on they became such good friends that Wilkie Collins wrote in a letter: “We saw each other every day, and were as fond of each other as men could be. Nobody (my own dear mother excepted, of course) felt so positively sure of the future before me in literature, as Dickens did.” Wilkie Collins joined the permanent staff of Dickens’s first magazine in November 1856, at a weekly salary of 5 guineas.

Despite the fact that Dickens was 12 years older than Wilkie Collins, the two authors worked together many times, their special annual Christmas numbers becoming a firm favourite with the public. In fact Collins was sometimes unkindly referred to “the Dickensian Ampersand”, because of the sheer number of works they collaborated on—inevitably referred to as works by “Charles Dickens & Wilkie Collins” rather than the other way round. Nevertheless, Wilkie Collins was one of the best known, best loved, and for a time, best paid Victorian fiction writers. He outlived his friend by 19 years, albeit in bad health, but still writing.

Wilkie Collins’s first serialised novel for Dickens’s magazine was “The Woman in White” in 1859, and officially he stopped being an “in-house” author for Dickens in April 1861, in the middle of his serial novel “No Name”, which Dickens admired and thought very clever. It continued to be published in his new showcase magazine “All the Year Round” into 1862. The two authors had differences of opinion, but complemented each other well. Afterwards Dickens managed to lure Wilkie Collins back now and then, including for The Moonstone, his final serialised novel in 1868. This was just two years before Dickens’s death. It was Wilkie Collins’s last great success, coming at the end of a very productive period in which four successive novels became bestsellers.

As I write, it is exactly 200 years ago that Wilkie Collins was born. His works are “classics”, with observations still relevant to contemporary life. However The Moonstone is also remembered for another significant reason.

The Moonstone: A Romance by Wilkie Collins was described by T.S. Eliot as “the first and greatest of English detective novels”. It was certainly one of the earliest detective novels in English, as we understand the term today, and established many of our modern ground rules. It influenced Wilkie Collins’s successors from Anthony Trollope and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle onwards, setting the standard by which all other detective novels are judged. This is quite an astonishing accomplishment for someone who was originally considered to be “the Dickensian Ampersand”!

The Moonstone could also lay claim to being the earliest clear example of the police procedural genre, although it is told through letters by the characters. Epistolary novels such as this are rare now, but were very popular with Victorians, and were a favourite technique of Wilkie Collins. In fact during its original serialisation in “All the Year Round”, there were crowds of anxious readers outside the publishers’ offices in Wellington Street waiting for the next installment, just as they did with Dickens own serials, from “The Old Curiosity Shop” onwards. Both The Moonstone and the earlier “The Woman in White” have never been out of print.

Both authors wrote great stories with ingenious plots, and none more so than The Moonstone’s was to prove. However Wilkie Collins’s prose was spare and direct, lacking the poetry and allusions of Dickens’s. He did not have the panoply of characters following their own complex, intertwining or parallel stories that Dickens did. Instead, what the reading public enjoyed about Wilkie Collins was his sensational stories, with subtlety of characterisation, and realistic psychological portrayals.

And that is what we still enjoy about The Moonstone. Collins wrote page-turners, but a re-reading of the novel is as delightful as a first reading, (which is another sign of a true classic). We get to know these characters, believe in them totally through all their trials and tribulations, and are sad when the novel is finished and we have to leave them behind. It is unusual for a detective novel to absorb our attention in quite this way. We may be caught up in its plot, but sometimes the characters in detective novels do not have much depth. Such shallow characters abounded in the 19th century too.

Although The Moonstone is generally considered to be the first detective novel it should perhaps be described as the first “respectable” one. There were earlier detective stories, in particular the 19th-century British publishing phenomenon known as “penny dreadfuls”, first published in the 1830s but going right through to the 1870s. They were printed on cheap paper, in weekly parts of 8 to 16 pages, and selling for a penny an installment. Popular recurring characters were featured, such as Sweeney Todd, Dick Turpin, Varney the Vampire, and Spring-heeled Jack. But the public were predisposed to expect something superior from Wilkie Collins, who was by now an established author. Moreover The Moonstone was not a “penny dreadful” story, but was published in the greatly respected Charles Dickens’s magazine.

Ironically enough though, the plot is not a million miles removed from that of a classic penny dreadful. The precious moonstone of the title is not a softly glowing semi-precious felspar gemstone as we might expect, but a colloquially named magnificent yellow diamond, which is reputed to have mystical powers. It is associated with the Hindu god of the Moon, Chandra, and protected by three hereditary guardians, who believe this is on the orders of Vishnu. The Moonstone is said to vary in brilliance along with the waxing and waning of the Moon … and it has disappeared. These three religious figures, strange and alien to the eyes of the English gentry, may or may not have been involved in its theft.

I did worry about the representation of people from the Indian subcontinent in a Victorian novel. So often the descriptions are offensive to modern perceptions, such as attempts at amusing caricatures—even in my beloved Dickens! Here though, I need not have worried. Wilkie Collins has given an impression of wealthy English people feeling menaced by the unknown and exotic, without specifics. It is all suggestion, and the one character we get to know in depth who does hail from India is a delight; in fact a tragic character, and the most honourable and upright person imaginable. Ezra Jennings’s is a sad tale of ill-health, undeserved prejudice and sheer bad luck.

Modern detective novels often have one officer and their sidekick. Here we have two competing detective figures: the irresistible Sergeant Cuff of Scotland Yard, with his penchant for growing roses (and insistence that his way is better than the chief steward’s). He keeps his own counsel about his suspicions, and is wise enough to keep notes about this, since nobody believes him at the time. Then there is Franklin Blake, a sort of amateur sleuth, but who appeals to our 21st century point of view as he has—unusually for the time—lived in and been shaped by several different cultures.

Technically of course Superintendent Seegrave is the senior officer, but the Police Commissioner’s word is law. This is bound to cause resentment, in a house where emotions are already running high. But we enjoy the sulky slowness of the superintendent, and the insight and asperity of St. Cuff for example in assessing the importance of the smudged, painted door.

Sergeant Cuff owes a lot to Dickens’s own Inspector Bucket fifteen years earlier, in the serial novel “Bleak House” (published in 1853). Wilkie Collins may have written the first English detective novel, but we should look to Inspector Bucket for the first important detective in English literature. This middle-aged, friendly and honest man is by temperament philosophical, and tolerant of human follies. It is his logic and sheer tenacity which is his outstanding quality as a policeman, as he patiently observes people and draws conclusions. The two policemen have this in common, and it is interesting to wonder just how much Dickens and Collins shared their thoughts about their invented characters.

Just like in a Dickens novel, we find the characters in The Moonstone engaging. The main narrator Gabriel Betteredge, the head steward, gets our attention (and our smiles of delight) right from the start as he talks about how much he loves the book “Robinson Crusoe”:

“I have tried that book for years—generally in combination with a pipe of tobacco—and I have found it my friend in need in all the necessities of this mortal life. When my spirits are bad—Robinson Crusoe. When I want advice—Robinson Crusoe. In past times when my wife plagued me; in present times when I have had a drop too much—Robinson Crusoe.”

Throughout the book Betteredge entertains us with his quirkiness. He has such a wry, droll sense of humour and we are always on his side. Nevertheless, it has to be said that the novel does begin in a roundabout way. First we have 2 prefaces. Then we have a prologue, which establishes the history of the jewel, taken from a factual historical event. Then we have the title “The Story”— but at the end of chapter 1, Gabriel Betteredge decides he has got off the point, and starts again with chapter 2. Would you believe it, but at the end of chapter 2 he does the same thing, and starts again in chapter 3—and again in chapter 4! It was a popular style for Victorian fiction to be prolix and discursive, but Betteredge continues to meander about and apologise—and it is hilarious! Dickens used to find the roundabout way his friend had of starting a novel infuriating, and often complained to Collins about it. But in fact it is a clever way of imparting quite a lot of information to us, whilst fooling us into believing we are merely being entertained.

Dickens could never have written like this, and he also disliked Collins’s habit of writing epistolary tales. It was a bone of contention even at the beginning, when Charles Dickens was Wilkie Collins’s editor. After “The Woman in White”, when they had been discussing a short story which Wilkie Collins was going to contribute to the Christmas edition of “All the Year Round”, Charles Dickens wrote to Georgina Hogarth (his sister-in-law and confidante):

“Wilkie brought his part of the Xmas No. to dinner yesterday. I hope it will be good. But is it not an extraordinary thing that it began: ‘I have undertaken to take pen in hand, to set down in writing etc. etc.’ … like the W in W (Woman in White) narratives? Of course, I at once pointed out the necessity of cancelling that …”

This was very early in their relationship, so clearly Wilkie Collins took not a bit of notice, and carried on in his own sweet way. The two authors are surprisingly different in their styles. Wilkie Collins sticks to just a few characters, and few—if any—cameos. We get to know them very well; the misunderstood second housemaid Rosanna Spearman; Lucy Yolland, her confidential friend; and Penelope, Gabriel Betteredge’s daughter, whom he relies on to tell him information he might not otherwise be privy to. There is Mr Murthwaite, another noted adventurer like Franklin Blake; and Dr Thomas Candy, the family physician. All have their own part to play in this well-plotted story, where even what we suspect to be red herrings are ultimately revealed to be pertinent facts.

There is Matthew Bruff, the family solicitor; and Godfrey Ablewhite, a philanthropist and lay preacher, much admired by Miss Clack—who herself provides us with a complete contrast to Betteredge ...

The sanctimonious Miss Drusilla Clack has a seemingly endless supply of Christian religious tracts. She is someone whom everyone tries to avoid except us. We sit openmouthed, loving to read the appalling descriptions of her steamrolling her way through meetings and drawing rooms alike.

Several of these are narrators in The Moonstone, and this technique is again a clever way to tell a mystery story. Not only do we have exactly the information the author wants us to have at each point, but also we get to know the personalities and biases of each character. For instance we know that Betteredge reads “Robinson Crusoe” for comfort, and guidance on how to act. Similarly his prejudices against women are humorous rather than offensive. His views are paternalistic but kindly. Wilkie Collins himself was a pioneer campaigner for women’s rights, and knew how to paint this picture subtly. Betteredge is simply naïve, and has no malice. He is happy with his place in the household and the world. He is an upright man who is delighted to be the conveyor of information for us.

We have seen Wilkie Collins painting a morally hypocritical female, but he writes a strong woman of a very different sort in Rachel Verinder. Rachel is a modern, thinking woman in the way of becoming very much in love with another character, whom she suspects of thievery.

It is Rachel who is now the owner of the priceless Indian diamond. For an unfathomable reason, she has inherited the jewel for her eighteenth birthday from her uncle, an army officer who served in India, but whom she had never met. As the story proceeds we see that Rachel knows her own mind, and is not afraid to challenge her mother, Lady Julia, and act according to what she herself thinks is right.

The success of The Moonstone was partly due to the growing public interest in stories of detection, as police work became increasing sophisticated. It was one of the first novels to put the emphasis on the growing use of forensic science and how the police used rational deduction to solve crimes. Earlier novels had tended to be written from the point of view of the criminal, or to concentrate on the social conditions which would make a crime more likely. Yet even so, Wilkie Collins’s popularity began to decline after this landmark novel.

The reason for the sudden change, and halt as a literary best-selling author, is rather sad. In his second Preface from 1871 Wilkie Collins tells his readers how two personal calamities hit him at once, when he was only a third of the way through The Moonstone. His mother died, and he was stricken with the gout which was to plague him for the rest of his life. He had to dictate the rest of the book. In consequence, he began to write novels which contained more overt social commentary, and these did not attract the same popularity. Although he was to live for 21 more years, The Moonstone still outshines Collins’s later works.

The Moonstone was a great success with the public, but after his initial excitement about it Dickens’s enthusiam began to wane. This seems odd, because the episodes of this story had increased the circulation of “All the Year Round” more than any other novel so far—including his own popular ones “A Tale of Two Cities” (1859) and even “Great Expectations” (1861).

However, something similar had happened before. The first weekly installment of Wilkie Collins’s “The Woman in White” had appeared in the same edition of “All the Year Round” along with the final installment of “A Tale of Two Cities” (26th November 1859). But by the end of “The Woman in White” in July 1860, sales of the journal were up! The critics may have had a mixed reception, but in the eyes of the public, Collins’s sensation novels were a huge success. Collins even adapted The Moonstone for the stage in 1877.

That success continues today, with many dramatisations of both “The Woman in White” and The Moonstone. People are still caught up in the intrigue and mysteries of these stories. The latest is an excellent BBC miniseries from 2016 and stars David Calder, Sophie Ward, Jeremy Swift, Guy Henry and Jag Sanghera etc. It has 5 episodes of 45 minutes each.

What many people look for in a mystery story is a simple “whodunnit”. Will you guess the culprit in this case? You might, if you are familar with Victorian tropes, just as you might in a modern crime novel, if you pick up the clues. It is quite a complex plot, although with far fewer characters than Dickens novel and a more direct story line. The ending is perhaps not what you expect, but I personally feel is exactly right.

“If half the stories I have heard are true, when it comes to unravelling a mystery, there isn’t the equal in England of Sergeant Cuff!”

I shall no doubt enjoy seeing the current exhibition at the Charles Dickens Museum, and actually being in the room where these two great authors’ collaborations took place.

I guess a review of this requires me to say that Wilkie Collins' The Moonstone is one of the first mystery novels ever written. Now that I've got that out of the way, let's get on with the review.

This English drama/mystery started out great. It also started out much the same way many English drama/mysteries of the period would start out: in the manor house. It also used the popular-in-its-time epistolary form of storytelling, with about a half dozen characters taking up their pens to relate their portion of this story.

What is the story? Well, it starts off like an adventure with a mysterious diamond discovered in a faraway land. The diamond is passed down as inheritance and then it is stolen. Lovers are torn asunder and the mystery of the missing diamond must be solved if love is to prevail.

In fact, love plays a large roll in this, so large actually that I'm inclined to call it a romance as much as a mystery. If memory serves, it is even referred to as such as a subtitle, as in The Moonstone, a romance.

Regardless, if you've come solely for the mystery you'll be disappointed in much of this. As I say, it started out great. The first quarter or so of the story is related by the butler and much of his portion of the tale involves the facts of the case. He's also a colorful character, who it seems Collins enjoyed writing about. After him, we move on to less charming characters such a fanatic Christian, a lawyer, a physician, detective and one of the principle suspects involved in the disappearance of the diamond.

The faults, for me, in this novel are its overlong explanations, its unnecessary sidebar storylines, occasional repetition, and the time spent dwelling on the mundane. Many scenes could have been easily reduced, some could have been dispensed with all together, and the book would've been all the better for it. All in all, it's not horrible. I'd put it in league with Dickens' middling work. Not worth rushing forth to read, but I wouldn't dismiss it altogether.

3.5 stars-- I'm not quite sure what to think of this book. I think it suffers in my estimation for 2 things beyond its control: my pre-existing adoration for THE WOMAN IN WHITE and my voracious reading of the mystery genre that this book helped spawn. I think this book was never going to live up to TWIW in my estimation. And the fact that this is one of (if not THE) first detective novels means that twists, character archetypes, settings, etc. that were innovations in this book feel a bit worn thin to a reader well acquainted with them. That said, Collins' humor still sparkles through and that was probably the element in this book that was most engaging for me.

Uno de los primeros referentes del género policiaco, la novela de Collins aprovecha para reconstruir la historia de un robo a través de una sucesión de testimonios escritos de todas las personas que estuvieron en contacto con la piedra lunar, un diamante único sobre el que pesa una maldición. A pesar de confluir en esta historia muchos elementos atractivos, el autor las conjuga de una forma analítica y bastante aséptica, lo cual ha hecho que tras leerlo, me quede un tanto frío y que el conjunto resulte poco memorable.

RESEÑA COMPLETA: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cqniN...

More Interesting for Plot than People

Published in 1868, The Moonstone outsold Great Expectations. Yet Dickens is universally acknowledged the greater author today, and I’d assumed that Wilkie Collins was now just a literary footnote, notable as author of the first detective story, but scarcely worth reading for his own sake. The other day, however, I bragged to a friend that I was reading The Moonstone, but instead of congratulations all I got was: “You surely mean re-reading it”? Ouch!



The essence of the story is simple enough. A British officer steals a sacred diamond from an Indian idol. Years later, in accordance with his will, it is presented to a young lady, Rachel Verinder, on her eighteenth birthday. And the same night, it mysteriously disappears. Who is responsible? One of the house guests at the birthday party, or the three Brahmans who mysteriously appear, disguised as traveling jugglers? Fortunately, the Indians mainly lurk as a background threat, keeping the main focus on the English characters, both above and below stairs. And when the theft is followed by a suicide, more robberies, and a murder, the mysteries deepen and proliferate.



The novel is remarkable for its structure, being told in separate but linked narratives involving eleven different voices. Some of these are only a page or two; the longest, which covers everything from the preparations for the birthday through the failure of the first investigation, is 200 pages. The delight of this method is that it introduces us to a series of unreliable narrators who reveal as much about themselves as the story they are telling. For example, the narrator of that longest part, the old steward in the Verinder household, Gabriel Betteredge. He has already made one false start; here he is reluctantly acknowledging another:

n  I am asked to tell the story of the Diamond, and, instead of that, I have been telling the story of my own self. Curious, and quite beyond me to account for. I wonder whether the gentlemen who make a business and living out of writing books, ever find their own selves getting in the way of their subjects, like me? If they do, I can feel for them. In the meantime, here is another false start, and more waste of good writing-paper. What's to be done now? Nothing that I know of, except for you to keep your temper, and for me to begin it all over again for the third time.n

But amusing though he is, the amiable fuddy-duddy outstays his welcome. We are glad when the great detective from Scotland Yard, Sergeant Cuff (why only a sergeant?) arrives on the scene and dismisses the local man; even though his voice is filtered through Betteredge, he is still a fascinating character who deserves his place as the first of the great detectives in fiction.



The second part of the novel, which picks up the mystery after the interval of a year, is more interesting. This is partly because it moves faster, and partly because it involves many more narrators. The first of these, an impoverished spinster relation of the Verinders called Drusilla Clack, is a small comic masterpiece. Collins mercilessly parodies her evangelism, which makes her delusional about her own motivations and tone-deaf to the needs of others. As in this scene when her aunt, seeking comfort, has just told her that she is seriously ill:

nHere was a career of usefulness opened before me! […] I took my aunt in my arms—my overflowing tenderness was not to be satisfied, now, with anything less than an embrace. "Oh!" I said to her, fervently, "the indescribable interest with which you inspire me! Oh! the good I mean to do you, dear, before we part!" After another word or two of earnest prefatory warning, I gave her the choice of three precious friends, all plying the work of mercy from morning to night in her own neighbourhood; all equally inexhaustible in exhortation; all affectionately ready to exercise their gifts at a word from me. Alas! the result was far from encouraging. […]

How fair is it to judge The Moonstone by the later standards of the genre to which it gave rise? Not much, probably, yet it is hard not to do so. By those standards, Collins is guilty more than once of coloring outside the lines. He introduces a significant new character three-quarters of the way through. An important plot point is resolved through an implausible experiment involving psychology and drugs. Too many new facts are revealed only the last few dozen pages, without the benefit of real detection. And once more there will be recourse to those hovering Brahmans, although there is quite a poetic symmetry to the way Collins handles them.



But the real reason why I give this four stars rather than five is that Collins lacks the essential novelist’s ability to get us to care about his characters. His skill at sketching the foibles of his narrators does not extend to his protagonists. Rachel Verinder, for example, has two suitors (both her cousins), Franklin Blake and Godfrey Ablewhite. We are clearly expected to rejoice or despair at the progress or setbacks of both these romances. But Rachel, despite others’ praise of her, seems petty, spoiled, and willful. And, though for different reasons, neither Franklin nor Godfrey comes across as admirable, or even particularly interesting. Think how quickly Dickens can get you to fall for his heroines and feel for his heroes. If The Moonstone indeed outsold Great Expectations, it can only have been for its unusual plot. In his ability to fill a novel with interesting and lovable people, Dickens had Collins beat.

3.5

Le ultime 200 pagine hanno salvato il libro.

NEWTs 2019: A in Astronomy

Though Wilkie Collins was long-time friends with Charles Dickens, they had drastically different writing styles, and suffered some rough patches in their relationship. In a letter to someone, Dickens talks about his thoughts on The Moonstone: "The construction is wearisome beyond endurance, and there is a vein of obstinate conceit in it that makes enemies of readers."

What the heck? Who's this Dickens guy, anyway? What the heck does he know about writing? Sheesh!

I don't know what book the vaunted Mr. Charles Dickens read, but the book I read was absolutely wonderful. It was hilarious, entertaining, smart, and everything else that makes a good novel. Beyond that, it was especially surprising! Being one of the first detective novels, I expected it to be rather dry. Maybe a little dull, or outdated feeling. Perhaps even a bit shallow and boring.

I'm pleased to say, that it was none of these things. For a book written in the mid-1800's this novel has a remarkably modern feel. Though the main plot is a detective-style mystery, there is a wonderful underlying social commentary aspect, all revealed through the lenses of the unique cast of characters. The story is brilliantly told by using various written narratives of different people, all which not only tease us with knowledge of the mystery at just the right pace, but also provide wildly entertaining character studies of the people writing them. From (my favorite character) the chauvinistic old butler, who wants nothing more than to serve his household faithfully while leaning upon the crutch of Robinson Crusoe and his tobacco pipe, to the absolutely, but painfully, hilarious distant cousin who is on a mission to convert everyone to her particular brand of christian values. Each character's narrative is written in their unique voice, and it makes you love them all even when you're hating them.

I think Collins himself puts it perfectly, when he said that, unlike examining the influence of circumstances upon character (as many other novels), this book examines the influence of character upon circumstance. This isn't some novel where you place an average person in an extraordinary situation, and watch what becomes of them. This is a novel where the extraordinary characters are the movers and shakers of the plot. Yet, even as wonderfully unique as these characters are, they are all at the same time, so wonderfully human. With the narrative style Collins chose, we are allowed insight into the characters' thought processes, and feelings; we are able to see more than what actually happens. In many other novels, this approach might generate superfluous noise, but in The Moonstone it keeps the book churning at a page-burning pace, and allows us to appreciate the smaller aspects of the novel, even when the larger parts might normally be prepared to overshadow them.

This book almost feels like one of those "guilty pleasure books" people always try to judge others for reading, but you can hold your head high on this one. It's fun, fast-paced, and riveting, but nobody can accuse it of being shallow. Each character brings not only a unique perspective on the main plot/mystery of the novel, but also a unique perspective on the world around them. Let's explore what I mean with a couple of my favorite gentlefolk, shall we?:

The old butler:

"People in high life have all the luxuries to themselves-among others, the luxury of indulging their feelings. People in low life have no such privilege. Necessity, which spares our betters, has no pity on us. We learn to put our feelings back into ourselves, and to jog on with our duties as patiently as may be. I don't complain of this--I only notice it."

"There's a bottom of good sense, Mr. Franklin, in our conduct to our mothers, when they first start us on the journey of life. We are all of us more or less unwilling to be brought into this world. And we are all of us right."

The self-righteous cousin, whose only want is to share her beloved religious tracts*:

"I paid the cabman exactly his fare. He received it with an oath; upon which I instantly gave him a tract. If I had presented a pistol at his head, this abandoned wretch could hardly have exhibited greater consternation. He jumped up on his box, and, with profane exclamations of dismay, drove off furiously. Quite useless, I am happy to say! I sowed the good seed, in spite of him, by throwing a second tract in at the window of the cab."

"When I folded up my things that night--when I reflected on the true riches which I had scattered with such a lavish hand, from top to bottom of the house of my wealthy aunt--I declare I felt as free from all anxiety as if I had been a child again. I was so lighthearted that I sang a verse of the Evening Hymm. I was so lighthearted that I fell asleep before I could sing another. Quite like a child again! Quite like a child again!

So I passed the blissful night. On rising the next morning, how young I felt! I might add, how young I looked, if I were capable of dwelling on the concerns of my own perishable body. But I am not capable--and I add nothing."

Even though I could go on and on with wonderfully entertaining passages, I realize I've already over done it on the quotations, so this humble reviewer must desist before he loses himself.

Basically, read this book. If you like detective novels, or if you like Victorian novels, or if you like novels in general, read this. It's quite fun! The true mark of a great mystery novel is that even if you know or "solved" the mystery, the book still manages to keep your attention and make you want to see the conclusion unfold for yourself. I can't imagine re-reading most mystery novels I can think of, but I can't imagine not re-reading The Moonstone again in the future. It's simply too much fun.






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*A small, religious pamphlet.

رواية بوليسية كلاسيكية نشرت منذ مائة وخمسون عاماً تقريباً، أقرب إلى أسلوب أجاثا كريستي الغامض المثير
تحكي عن حجر هندوسى مقدس سرقه لص إنجليزي برتبه كولونيل في نهاية القرن الثامن عشر وعاد به لإنجلترا
لتبدأ سلسلة من الحوادث الغامضة لورثته ومحاولة بعض الهنود إعادته للهند ولكن تنتهى الرواية نهاية مثيرة

This was my second by Wilkie Collins. I finally got around to The Woman in White last year; I enjoyed The Moonstone every bit as much. They are both effectively mysteries, a genre to which I am not typically drawn, but I have found that Wilkie Collins is able to retain my interest in the mystery while also engaging me in the lives of the characters and the period in which the novel is set. He focuses in these two novels on the upper class of English society. It is always a bit of a shock reading about people who did not need to work for a living, and often did not work.

Some of the characters in The Moonstone are much more richly drawn than others. Gabriel Betteredge, Sergeant Cuff and Ezra Jennings were my favorites. While there were some interesting female characters, I did not find them as multi-faceted as my favorites. I found the one major twist in the story somewhat unbelievable, but in the interest of enjoying the story, I had to let this go. I also realized that this twist might have been more believable in the 19th century.

I find I must be in the right mood for English fiction from the 19th century. It can provide a good story and interesting characters, but if I read too much of it, I become bored. Better to space it out. The Moonstone was a most enjoyable detour, and I definitely recommend it.