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Sarah Waters: Fingersmith
Aug. 2nd, 2013 12:33 pmI've been meaning to read this for a while - years, really - but for some reason or the other only got around to it now. In short: deserving of all the accolades it got. I hear there is also a film version, but quite how that would work, given the form of the narration is crucial to the twists of the story, and film probably would parallel the strands, meaning the audience would not be on the same level as one of the main characters anymore, I don't know. But be that as it may. Fingersmith is a brilliant take on that arch Victorian genre, the "sensation" novel. While Dickens and Oliver Twist get name checked in the first few pages, the Victorian writer Fingersmith is most indebted to and both pays homage to and turns upside down is Dickens' younger pal Wilkie Collins. Not only but most obviously The Woman in White, but I think also Armadale and No Name.
If you never read a word of Wilkie Collins in your life (sidenote: get on that, he's worth it), here's what I mean: Fingersmith uses all those tropes Collins was a master at - dastardly conspiracies, unexpected family revelations, doublecrossing, plots within plots within plots, nefarious, smart villains, madhouses, opium - uses them all, and gives them a thorough shake and twist at the same tiime. So the pale and noble heiress does not fall for the scheming rogue but for her maid instead. Except that nothing is what it seems at first glance, including and especially the heiress and the maid, our two main characters and narrators; there are no true innocents in this tale, but there are second chances. And everyone has an agenda. Also, most of the main characters are women - in addition to Sue and Maud, there's Mrs. Suckeby, Victorian underworld boss extraordinaire - and the only one who isn't turns out not to be the puppeteer he thinks he is. Every now and then I had a point of thinking "but why wouldn't X do this and that, clearly this is forced so that the plot can ensue" but then it would turn out there was an actual reason for their actions.
The author also pulls off something which is very difficult (if you ever tried it yourself, you'll know), and which Collins was a master at: convincing first person narration for more than one character, and in very individual and distinguishable voices. Otoh, she spares us something the Victorians were fond of (and not just the Victorians, I'm looking at you, J.K. Rowling): writng accents phonetically. This does not happen. Clashing social structures do come across in the way people talk, but not via phonetic spelling.
There is great suspense, and the endings for everyone are both Victorian trope like and utterly not; moreover, they're in character, and I found them very satisfying. If you need a distraction from work during your summer, have a sneaking fondness of Victorian novels but wish they had more agenda-having female characters and same-sex romance in them, this book is ideal.
If you never read a word of Wilkie Collins in your life (sidenote: get on that, he's worth it), here's what I mean: Fingersmith uses all those tropes Collins was a master at - dastardly conspiracies, unexpected family revelations, doublecrossing, plots within plots within plots, nefarious, smart villains, madhouses, opium - uses them all, and gives them a thorough shake and twist at the same tiime. So the pale and noble heiress does not fall for the scheming rogue but for her maid instead. Except that nothing is what it seems at first glance, including and especially the heiress and the maid, our two main characters and narrators; there are no true innocents in this tale, but there are second chances. And everyone has an agenda. Also, most of the main characters are women - in addition to Sue and Maud, there's Mrs. Suckeby, Victorian underworld boss extraordinaire - and the only one who isn't turns out not to be the puppeteer he thinks he is. Every now and then I had a point of thinking "but why wouldn't X do this and that, clearly this is forced so that the plot can ensue" but then it would turn out there was an actual reason for their actions.
The author also pulls off something which is very difficult (if you ever tried it yourself, you'll know), and which Collins was a master at: convincing first person narration for more than one character, and in very individual and distinguishable voices. Otoh, she spares us something the Victorians were fond of (and not just the Victorians, I'm looking at you, J.K. Rowling): writng accents phonetically. This does not happen. Clashing social structures do come across in the way people talk, but not via phonetic spelling.
There is great suspense, and the endings for everyone are both Victorian trope like and utterly not; moreover, they're in character, and I found them very satisfying. If you need a distraction from work during your summer, have a sneaking fondness of Victorian novels but wish they had more agenda-having female characters and same-sex romance in them, this book is ideal.
