Chels

If you’re familiar with Sweeney Todd, it’s most likely through Sondheim’s play, or Tim Burton’s film adaptation, but the demon barber originated in James Malcolm Rymer’s serial penny dreadful The String of Pearls. The novel is very different from the Sweeney Todd I’m familiar with, and I’m still on the fence which I prefer.

Penny Dreadfuls

Penny dreadfuls were serialised publications, sold for (as the name suggests) just a penny each, and were most often sensational fiction – hence the name. Penny dreadfuls dealt with taboo subjects, and were most often tales of crime or detective fiction. They were extremely popular, particularly with the working class, who, at the time, were becoming increasingly literate, and the relatively cheap price meant that literature wasn’t only reserved for the wealthy. Penny dreadfuls were accessible and exciting, and they had a big impact on the popularity of Gothic, horror, and crime fiction. The popularity of serialised fiction was like the popularity of serialised television (a genuine shame that it’s been replaced by streaming and bingewatching culture), and friends could discuss the story so far whilst waiting for their weekly installments.

The String of Pearls was published in 18 weekly installments from 1846 to 1847. The edition I own is split into 39 chapters, so it’s not clear exactly how the story would have been serialised in its original form. There are mini-cliffhangers throughout, though, which might indicate where the story was paused. I attributed the story to James Malcolm Rymer, as that’s the name editor Dick Collins chooses for this edition, but Collins notes in the introduction that we still aren’t certain that Rymer was the author. In fact, Collins posits that there may have been multiple authors of the story, whether one took over from another, or the story was written collaboratively.

There’s definitely evidence in the text to suggest that. For me, there’s a real discord between perspectives – while most chapters are quite slow paced and leisurely (despite the content), chapters, and even sections of chapters, dedicated to Sweeney Todd himself feel unusually fast paced. Not quite rushed, because they still feel coherent and thought out, but there’s a drastic change in pace, and even the writing style just feels a little different. Of course, this could be deliberate – this Sweeney Todd is rash and eccentric, nothing like Depp’s brooding portrayal. But then again, even the chaotic rush of customers at Mrs Lovett’s pie shop is given quite thorough depth. I’m resisting the urge to do a thorough deep dive of the history of the story, but my instinct is to think that there were multiple authors handling The String of Pearls.

Loose Interpretations

While the Sondheim adaptation of Sweeney Todd does stick pretty closely to the original tale (though, as I always like to insist, a good adaptation is not always a faithful one, and a faithful adaptation is not always good), there are quite a few differences that I wasn’t expecting.

Firstly, and the most important (to me), is that Sweeney’s tragic backstory was entirely invented for the musical. This Sweeney hasn’t been wronged, he isn’t out for revenge, he very simply just is a murderer. To me, Sondheim’s Sweeney, if played a certain way, can be quite an antihero character, rather than a villain. I mean, of course, all the murdering is wrong, but I think it’s very easy to, with a few well timed pauses, portray him as a man who has fallen in over his head, who never really intended to kill, aside from the Judge, but found himself spiralling further into this life of crime. Rymer’s Sweeney is the opposite. There’s no reasoning at all for his killing, and he seems to kill everyone that comes to his service. If I were being overly critical, I’d question why no one had any suspicions about him until Thornhill’s disappearance, especially since Tobias’ escape reveals just how many people had already been killed.

That’s another difference – Tobias is Todd’s apprentice, held in servitude through the threat of exposing his mother for a crime she didn’t commit. His affection for Mrs Lovett only extends to enjoyment of her pies in the novel, and he certainly doesn’t hold any affection for Todd. Johanna also features, not as Sweeney’s daughter, but as the lover of Mark Ingestrie, who had instructed Thornhill to inform her of his fate. The finer details of the story are very different, but at its heart, Sweeney Todd remains the tale of the demon barber who murders his clients, and the baker who turns them into pies to turn a profit.

Mrs Lovett’s history as a poor woman, struggling to source meat to keep her business alive, is also missing from the original story. When we meet her, business is thriving, and she’s already incredibly successful. While Sondheim’s Lovett still suggests the idea of human pies, she’s still likeable, she can be forgiven. Rymer’s Lovett, however, lacks the empathetic touch Sondheim brings, and she’s quite cruel to the men she employs to make her pies. I’ll spare the details. Their relationship is purely business – they’re literally partners in crime – and there’s not even a hint of romantic attraction on either side. In fact, the most significant interaction between the two is Sweeney’s murder of Lovett through poisoning. 
As far as choosing a favourite, I think the reason it’s hard, for me at least, is the differing tones of the two versions. Sondheim’s Sweeney Todd really humanises the villainous protagonists – their rationales are clear, and with a little empathy, it’s easy to see how they came to crime. The String of Pearls, however, is a really strong piece of almost mystery fiction – of course, familiarity with the story meant that I could work out what was being alluded to, but I think the way information is slowly provided, and multiple perspectives come together, is a really great way of telling the story.