Ella

It is important to note before as we begin that I am a sincere appreciator of ‘The Classics’. I am a  loyal reader of the Brontes, Jane Austen, Louisa May Alcott, Mary Shelley, Katherine Mansfield and many more. However my devotion to the classics has a looming and ominous figure in the background, one that has haunted my pride and vanity for many years, the ever-present  powerhouse that is Charles Dickens. As a student of English Literature at university Dickens was  the constant bane of my studies, a resurfacing phantom for at least one seminar per semester. Considering this context, it is understandable that when my dissertation supervisor recommended Charles Dickens’ best friend Wilkie Collins to me I was incredibly sceptical. It was with a heavy heart that I went to Waterstones and, to my utter horror, picked up the seven hundred page novel ‘The Woman in White’. 

Another worthwhile addition is that I am usually not a champion of mystery novels, Agatha Christie being another notable exception from my list of idols. This aversion to the genre coupled with my distain for Dickens did not make The Woman in White sound like a favourable match. Yet, as the title suggests I was incredibly (and pleasantly) surprised.  

As a loyal hearted Janeite even I can admit that it has frequently taken me several chapters to be enveloped in the folds of the likes of Sense and Sensibility or Mansfield Park. Yet from the starting line of this novel I was ready to keep running with the narrative. In a classic trope of the genre Collins throws the reader straight into the drama with chapter one, as Walter Hartright concludes his evening with a moonlit stole and encounters (you’ve guessed it) the woman in white. A brief interaction with the peculiar woman follows a distressed man fervently questioning Hartright if he has seen a woman recently escaped from an asylum and (surprise) she was dressed in an entirely white outfit. Setting this interaction from the start of the novel was what I would consider a genius move by Collins. While we do not hear much of the woman in white until later in the novel, this interaction haunts the narrative in a way that provides the perfect amount of gothic atmosphere to this mysterious novel.  

As I do not want to spoil this incredibly well woven piece for anyone who is lucky enough to read it for the first time I will move onto why I love this story so much. I believe that a common trait of  many Janeites is an appreciation of how well Austen paints character in her novels with layers of  satire and genuine understanding of human emotion. I must say that Collins does a similarly masterful presentation of character in this work, creating complex humans who feel as though  they could jump off the page and do not fit into the tickboxes of ‘detective’ or ‘criminal’. My particular favourites from this story are Marian Halcombe and Count Fosco. The former being one of my most treasured characters, the latter is the true definition of ‘mystery’, and one of the best written morally grey characters I have ever had the pleasure of reading.  

To truly confirm how high this novel sits in my estimations I will include one final anecdote. My  grandad is currently 81 years old and had read every single day of his life, yet he has never enjoyed a novel. When I asked him why he did not read novels his honest answer was ‘why would I read about something that never happened?’. He is very intelligent and has read countless biographies and history books. I was determined in my efforts and made him promise me to at least try to read this novel. I can only imagine he had a similar reaction to myself when he first saw the seven hundred pages. Yet within two days of me loaning the book he made a point of calling me on the landline to urgently let me know that he had nearly finished it. Coming from a man who has never read a novel in his life, I can think of no higher praise.