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I didn’t managed to post anything last week due to the general stress of being in the middle of attempting to get to a point of exchange on my current house and the one I want to buy. No doubt I will continue to feel frazzled for many weeks to come unless things fall apart (which obviously I don’t want) so I decided I couldn’t continue to neglect my blog and must knuckle down. And I’ve been saving up the Woman in White for a few weeks now, so I thought it was time to write it up.

This really is a great page turned of a novel. It has it all, from the opening moments of Walter Hartright’s mysterious encounter with the woman in white herself, through love denied to love found and then onto the fantastical end, it keeps you gripped. Collins was writing for a weekly which accounts for the number of cliffhangers and moments of suspense, but they all add to the atmosphere. The plot itself is highly dubious but apparently was greatly feared in Victorian times (I won’t let the cat out of the bag for those of you who haven’t read it) and the resolution is a little strained, but the masterly writing allows you to forget all that as you are swept along.

As for the characters. Well, apparently Collins’s technique of letting each character ‘tell’ the part of the story they were most associated with was a novel innovation, but it works and allows the reader to get closer to the characters. Walter Hartright is still the central character, with his devoted love for Laura Fairlie. We see him develop as a character, tested in the jungles of South America until he develops the strength to tackle the mystery of the woman in white and fight for Laura’s love.  

But it is Marion Halcombe who steals the show. Marion who does not wear stays, who has a beautiful body below an ugly face and who sets every stereotype of Victorian womanhood flying (which is a good thing after they have been so carefully hung out to dry in Laura Fairlie, a flat character if ever I saw one). And it just goes to show that the Victorians weren’t as madonna/whore about their women as I was taught in school, because apparently when the novel was serialised Collins was flooded with enquiries from male readers requesting the identity of the woman Marion was based on so they could propose. It’s good to think the Victorians, or at least some, liked a strong woman and valued something above insipid femininity and languid eyes. 

A great read, still entertaining to this day. At times Walter can seem as if he ‘protesteth too much’ and the plot is a little strained, but it still is the original sensation novel and endearing with it.


Said to be the earliest dective/mystery novel ever published (1868) it has a strong plot line and plenty of cliff hangers to keep readers gripped (I guess because it was originally serialised). As I like Victorian prose I found this an enjoyable, and easy read. But I must admit that, despite the cliff hangers, the book failed to really grab me. It’s the kind of book you can read whilst you’re reaching the end of a bottle of wine and feel the next morning, even though your memory may be a little groggy, that you won’t need to re-read any of it.

Getting onto the story, the book is based around the diamond of the title which a British soldier has gained through bloody means in India. Indian guardians devote their life to trying to recapture the stone. The soldier bequeaths the stone to his neice, presuming it will bring diaster in its wake, as revenge for his sister’s estrangement from him. As expected the moonstone does just that, and it all gets engangled with a love story between the two main protagonists.

But the characters never seem to be fully developed, and I found it very difficult to care about any of them; although I did delight in Betteredge who was almost a Dickensian charactature with his Robinson Crusoe and his pipe.

Not as good as The Woman In White I’m afraid.

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