Wilkie Collins: The Ordeal of the Woman in White

Does reading a novel ever become an ordeal? Do you sometimes find yourself plugging through a book just to get through it? That proved my experience with The Woman In White by Wilkie Collins. This novel is the fifth written by Charles Dickens' friend and contemporary author, and considered the best written by Collins. It is said to be one of the first Mystery novels ever written, or at least a precursor to the later Mystery literary genre. The novel impressed fans and authors, including a young Agatha Christie. Yet I found the pace glacial, and the story largely uninteresting. How could this be?

Perhaps a little comparison is in order. Earlier this year, I read The Pickwick Papers by Charles Dickens. It was my first experience with Dickens (at least as an adult, and as best as I can remember). Dickens peppered his story with lots of characters, who each had interesting stories to tell. Many of the characters were quirky and amusing, and perhaps a little far fetched. I suppose the story was rather satirical. Yet the one thing that sticks in my mind was how much sheer story there was. Like The Woman in White, The Pickwick Papers was serialized in a magazine/newspaper. There was mini-adventure after misadventure. It was a lot of fun, and told me a lot about England during that era.

By contrast, Collins' novel was more focused, and the story simpler. When one character left the stage, the next person involved continued the linear narrative. There were complications, and a few interesting characters, but only one plot thread. So if you got bored with that story, there was nothing else to look forward to but more of the same. 

Most of Collins' characters left me flat. There were only three well developed characters, in my opinion. The rest seemed more like charicatures. Now that's fine in a humorous novel, but not so good in a serious narrative. The whole point about The Woman in White was that it was breaking new ground for its time. It was a Sensation novel, a fusion of the Romance and Gothic literary genres. It clearly spoke to contemporary readers and authors, even if many reviewers hated it. Even today, it is ranked as one of the most important English language novels ever written. Yet I slogged through it, and feel robbed of the enjoyment that others have derived from the reading experience.

Don't you hate it when you miss the party?

Dragon Dave

Knitting During the French Revolution

My niece once told me she was reading A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens.  To her, it seemed more like an endless succession of episodes than a novel with a three-part dramatic structure.  I vaguely remember picking up the book in elementary school library, but being talked out of reading it until I was older.  Strangely though, I can’t remember being taught anything about the French Revolution in history classes (even at university), except that it was “complicated.”

A couple years ago, I read Drood, a novel in which Dan Simmons portrays Charles Dickens from contemporary author Wilkie Collin’s point-of-view.  I’ve wanted to read both Collins and Dickens since reading Dan Simmons’ novel, so perhaps I should begin with A Tale of Two Cities.  My concern is that it’s a long novel, so I’ll have to set aside all the other books I want to read.  Plus, there’s the added problem that once Dickens brings this period of history to life for me, I’ll want to study the subject further, and I already have so many nonfiction topics I want to research.  (Of course, in order to play fair, I’ll then have to read a Wilkie Collins novel as well).  Still, nothing illuminates history quite like well-written Fiction, and A Tale of Two Cities ranks among the most famous works of literature.  

While I debate about reading the novel, I’ve recently found another valuable source of information on the French Revolution.  “The Reign of Terror” was a six-part serial written by Dennis Spooner, and was filmed during the first year of Doctor Who.  When the TARDIS arrives in France in 1794, the Doctor’s companions are thrown in jail, and he must impersonate a regional administrator in the hopes of rescuing them before they are taken to the guillotine.  When watching the episodes with the “Information Text” option, I gained a nice overview of this important period of history, as well as a few interesting facts.  One was that a group of women, known as Tricoteuses, would sit by the guillotine and knit during public executions.

I can understand a lot of the reasons why the French Revolution occurred.  I get how ideologies might drive people to commit terrible acts in the name of the common good, such as during the Reign of Terror, when tens of thousands of people were condemned to death.  What I can’t understand is how a group of women could plunk themselves down beside a guillotine, watch as people are led up to it, and knit while the blade descends and a person’s head drops into a basket.  I mean, wouldn’t their knitted hats and gloves get stained?  Who would wear a sweater splattered with blood?

My wife’s tells me she finds knitting a calming and restful hobby…and then she knits Daleks.  Part of me argues that I’d better confiscate her knitting needles while I still can.  The other part argues that the Women’s March on Versailles served as an important precursor to the French Revolution.  So what should I do?  Should I confiscate her knitting needles?  Or would doing so incite the violence and rebellion I wish to avert?

You know, maybe I really do need to read A Tale of Two Cities.  

Dragon Dave

Abraham Lincoln’s Favorite Game

In The Blotting Book by E. F. Benson, one of the characters, a lawyer who manages another character’s estate, visits his club one evening.  While others there engage in various types of exercise, or play games, he prefers to sit back and relax.  I was intrigued by the mention of Bagatelle, so I did a little research.  I’m not sure if E. F. Benson played Bagatelle, but his fellow English author Charles Dickens was fond of the game, and so was a certain American statesman you might have heard of.  His name was Abraham Lincoln.

Perhaps I’m going out on a limb with my title, but a newspaper cartoon from 1864 depicts the American Presidential race that year in terms of a game of Bagatelle.  As Lincoln leans over the table, preparing to make his shot, he assures his running mate, Andrew Johnson, that he’ll do his best on The Union Board.  “I can do no more,” he asserts.  Johnson encourages him, “Hurrah for our side, go ahead Old Abe!  Oh ain’t he bully on the Bagatelle!”  Other important national characters are there, including Democratic nominee George McClellan, who sits atop a crumbling Chicago “Peace” platform that Lincoln has just nudged with his foot.  His running mate George H. Pendleton retorts, "O see here.  We can’t stand this!  Old Abe's getting in all the pots on the board.”  Others, such as Representative Vallandigham and Union general Ulysses S. Grant, also comment on the game.  Of course, the artist uses the game as a paradigm for commenting on the ongoing Civil War, and how that will impact the presidential election.

We all know how the Civil War turned out.  President Lincoln won reelection thanks largely to the soldiers’ vote, in a year when both major political parties were divided over whether the Union should continue the war, or allow the South to withdraw.  What I hadn’t known was that Lincoln was an aficionado of Bagatelle, or even what the game was.

In “Curbing My Addiction,” I discussed my worries that my love for physical books was getting out of hand, and so I was reading an e-book on my computer for the first time.  One of the pluses, I found, was the ability to instantly research any term I didn’t recognize.  Unlike some other terms however, Bagatelle wasn’t that easy to research.  This was due to the fact that how one played the game varied by region, and also the rules of play evolved with time.  Some variants of the game better resemble pinball or pachinko, and some articles suggest that the game is related to miniature golf.  Finally, I found a nine-minute video that explained a version called Victorian Bagatelle, and this helped me understand a lot of the dialogue in the Abraham Lincoln comic. 

Perhaps it wasn’t important to learn about Bagatelle, as few people play it anymore.  (It seems that a few clubs in England still do).  But it was interesting to learn about this game that many seem to have forgotten, and enhances my understanding of the era in which Benson’s novel is set.  I would never have put down a physical book to look up Bagatelle, but because I was reading it on the computer, and could easily jump to the Internet and look the term up, I embarked on a journey that left me with a better understanding of Abraham Lincoln, American history, and life in England in the early twentieth century. 

I’ll be attending the World Fantasy Convention in England later this year.  Interestingly, the convention is being held in Brighton, where The Blotting Book is set.  I don’t know about you, but I think it’d be a hoot to play a game of Bagatelle there with another fan of E. F. Benson.  Even if, unlike Old Abe, I can’t get in all the pots on the board.

Dragon Dave

Related Dragon Cache entries

Curbing My Addiction

Related Internet Links

Abraham Lincoln Comic

A short description of Bagatelle

Video: How to Play Bagatelle

  

Preparing for Santa’s Arrival

For today’s post, I had planned to discuss “Adaptations,” by Connie Willis.  This short story, contained in her collection Miracle, seems rich in parallels for our lives.  In it, a divorced father has given up his accounting job to work in a book store.  His main point of contention with the books that fill the shelves is that there are so many versions, or adaptations, of A Christmas Carol, that no one bothers to read the original.  During the course of the story, while he’s trying to prepare for a visit from his daughter on Christmas Eve, his boss arranges an author book signing on that day.  Even with the help of a temporary employee, the cloaked, skeletal Spirit of Christmas Yet to Come, he tries to ignore the realization that he’ll have to work late that day, which will cut in on his time with his daughter. 

Unfortunately, I’m one of the great unwashed who’ve seen lots of adaptations, but have yet to read the Charles Dickens novella.  So while the story offered up a lot of great moments, I’ve won’t attempt to analyze it for you.  Besides, that would take a lot of thought right now, and I’m in the midst of preparing for Santa’s arrival.  So I’ll just add that if you’re interested in reading some stories that draw interesting parallels between Christmas movies, stories, and novels, I heartily recommend Willis’ volume to you.

Last night I also finished a book I’ve been reading for awhile, a Star Wars media tie-in novel called The Mandalorian Armor, by K. W. Jeter.  I’ve not read this author’s work before, but he is revered in Science Fiction and Fantasy circles for having coined the term Steampunk, and along with his friends Tim Powers and James P. Blaylock, wrote some of the first novels published in that literary subgenre.  He populates his narrative with some of the bounty hunters who first appeared in “The Empire Strikes Back.”  Although the central character is Boba Fett, equal page time is given to Bossk, a particularly ugly Trandoshan who, as an infant, devoured all his unhatched siblings.  I’ll agree that the latter assessment isn’t particularly fair, as like beauty, ugliness is a subjective judgment, and his feast in the cradle made his father proud.  I’m sure there are many female Trandoshans who view Bossk as quite a catch, but alas, I digress. 

While I had been looking forward to reading the novel, it took me a while to get into the story, as Jeter keeps moving between two timelines, one taking place after Boba Fett is consumed by the Sarlacc in "Return of the Jedi," and the other taking place sometime between "A New Hope" and "The Empire Strikes Back."   Instead of one cohesive, rollicking adventure, the novel consists of a number of smaller events and battles.  Nor did it help that all the characters are constantly plotting against each other.  While I failed to find any of the characters sympathetic, where Jeter really shines is in all the little touches he introduces, such as Kud’ar Mub’at, an arachnoid-like assembler who delegates most of his business functions to miniature versions of himself.  And then there’s the mimbrane organism that thrives on “acoustic” energy, which makes it perfect to function in lieu of a surveillance device.  He invests these little touches with a real flourish, and such inventiveness is a delight to read. 

Even if it wasn’t what I was expecting, Jeter had me turning the pages rapidly from midway on, and as he ended the first novel on a cliffhanger, he’s got me hungry to read the second installment in the trilogy, Slave Ship.  But later, Jeter, later.  First I’ve got books by Roger Zelazny and E. F. Benson to finish, and, as I said, I’m hard at work preparing for Santa’s arrival.  My wife and I have cleaned up the living room, and the tree and ornaments wait patiently in their separate boxes.  I may not string up any lights this year, but the presents are all wrapped, and once we’ve set up the tree, we’ll have somewhere to place them.  Then we can make up the bed in the guestroom, which at the moment is piled high with, you guessed it, all those presents. 

Don’t hurry on our account, Santa.  We’re looking forward to your arrival, but we’re not quite ready for you.  Soon, I hope, we will be.  I know that chocolate chip cookies are your favorite, but we’ve got some chocolate Rice Krispy squares made up, so I’m sure you’ll enjoy them just as much.  But alas, again, I digress.

Dragon Dave

Related Internet Links

Kud’ar Mub’at

Mimbrane Organism

Where Church and State are One: Part 3

Growing up as a Protestant in America, I saw churches as mere buildings, places where believers (the true church) gathered to worship.  After spending several years in Anglican-style churches, I can now appreciate how some believers make their “gathering-places” into sacred spaces by filling them with artwork that both instructs and inspires.  But visiting a church that is the “official church of the state” is still a new experience for me.

Westminster Abbey as a fish might see it.

Nor did I appreciate, at first, how unique Westminster Abbey is.  Unlike other churches and cathedrals, it is classified as a royal peculiar and therefore under the direct oversight of the Sovereign rather than a church leader such as a bishop.  How this affects its daily operation, and whether priests there are more constrained in what they can preach, I do not know.  But one thing is certain.  Without a doubt, it is the most secular church I have ever visited.


As I mentioned earlier, statues of national leaders tower above worshipers in at least one area, and statesmen, military leaders, and people of science are buried there.  The latter category even includes Charles Darwin, whose teachings many believers regard as anathema.  Nor is official remembrance limited to those who contributed to the state in a pragmatic, quantifiable manner: literary giants such as Charles Dickens, John Milton, and Jane Austen are memorialized in the Abbey’s Poet’s Corner.


Most Church of England cathedrals and churches either charge admission, or have signs and docents stressing their desperate financial need.  Whether Westminster Abbey is cash-poor, or a rich source of income for the crown, I cannot say.  I was surprised to discover that key scenes from movies that inspired me to visit her, such as “Johnny English” and “The King’s Speech,” were filmed elsewhere.  But having seen what a popular destination this is, I can understand why the Queen would not wish to turn away tourists who traveled across borders, time zones, or oceans to visit this uniquely secular-and-sacred place.


Having glimpsed some of her delights, I yearn to explore Westminster Abbey further.  While it might prove difficult to enjoy any area of it in solitude or undisturbed reflection, I can imagine spending hours happily delving into the wealth of history on offer.  But at the equivalent of twenty-five dollars for admission (more for a guided tour), with so many other must-visit sites and lower-cost museums in London, and with my time in this bustling city so terribly, terribly short, I fear that such a pleasure will have to wait for another visit.

My Unworthy Tribute to Westminster Abbey


Guarded by priests, and
Ruled by a queen;
Adorned in splendor, yet
“No photography, please!”


Peculiar and religious,
Expensive yet free;
Everyone should visit,
Westminster Abbey.

A Journey into English Fiction: Part 1

As an American, I grew up hating England.  All right, perhaps that is an overstatement.  After all, I have never been especially motivated by hatred, and to be sure, for a long time I didn’t understand England.  But certainly much of what I learned about England, while I was growing up, was negative. 


My history textbooks told me that many of the Britons who had settled America did so because they were persecuted back home.  So they fled, braving the many perils of a voyage across the Atlantic Ocean to settle here.  They could bring little with them, and consequently their lives were hard: many of the settlers died of illnesses, exposure, or exhaustion.  Once the survivors built homes for themselves and cities in which they could finally make their lives a little easier, redcoats arrived demanding that the poor settlers pay onerous taxes to England or face imprisonment, even death.  This oppression grew so terrible that eventually the settlers were forced to band together and make war against their former homeland, all so they could live out their lives to preserve the liberties that are every person’s due.


Nor did the fiction of my youth inspire much love for England.  The TV channels played little in the way of enjoyable British shows, and of the books I remember reading, while some may have been written by British authors, none inspired me with a love for their country.  I remember Dickens’ miserly scrooge, stories of orphans and poor families eking out an existence in a cold and harsh London, and novels about European countries constantly torn apart by the ravages of war.  Movies portrayed kings who beheaded their wives, who fought against the Church, and who continually conspired against their neighboring kings in order to increase their own power. 


With High School and College, increased knowledge brought greater understanding.  I came to understand that the various wrongs committed throughout time, regardless of the country in which they occurred, are driven by the foibles of human nature.  There are no superior races or countries, only ordinary individuals who may strive to achieve greatness by significantly benefiting the lives of those around them.  But still, I possessed no idea of what England was like, nor why I should visit it to find out.  And why should I have?  America is a vast nation, comprised of more states and cities and regions of extraordinary natural beauty than most of its citizens can hope to visit in a lifetime.  What could England possibly offer me that could compete with the greatness of America?


It wasn’t until after college and marriage, and immersing myself in creating the future pattern of my existence, that English Fiction began to seduce me. 


To read the remainder of this blog entry, check out tomorrow’s post: A Journey into English Fiction: Part 2.