Once again, a thorough analysis of why Dungeons and Dragons – Honor Among Thieves is so entertaining proves too challenging (look, just take it from me, it's a fun film). So once again I resort to books, more specifically two historical novels I've recently finished, both coincidentally set in Victorian England.
Or not so coincidentally, perhaps. It's no secret I'm a sucker for this time period as a fictional setting. As some sort of hook on which to hang my reflections, I'll try to look at whether these two novels are "neo-Victorian" or not.
I only became aware of the term neo-Victorian fairly recently, after having unknowingly been a fan of it for years. Definitions I've randomly come across while googling are "contemporary fiction that employs Victorian settings and/or styles to self-reflexively invoke the Victorian era for the present" and "creative narrative works set in the Victorian period, but written, interpreted or reproduced by more contemporary artists". So, a few of my favourite things, in other words.
If I understand the term correctly, though, it doesn't merely refer to contemporary fictional works set in the Victorian era. It implies a fascination for and engagement with "real" Victorian fiction. James Benmore's Dodger trilogy and Fingersmith by Sarah Waters are clearly neo-Victorian. I've also heard novels like The Thirteenth Tale by Diane Setterfield being described as neo-Victorian, in spite of not being set in the period, simply because of their Victorian vibe.
So can a historical novel be set in Victorian England and yet not be neo-Victorian? I'd say yes – and I'd also claim that The Other Side of Mrs Wood by Lucy Barker is a pretty good example. It's set in 1870s London and features a famous medium, Mrs Wood, who is afraid her act is getting stale and as a means to staying relevant takes on a young, pretty protegée. Eventually, though, the girl turns out to be a rival rather than a help.
I liked the novel for its fascinating dive into the world of mediums and its new approach to why anyone half-decent would attempt such work knowing she's a fraud. Mrs Wood is well aware that she doesn't really commune with spirits, but she sees her job as consoling the grief-stricken – a sort of bereavement counselling – with some harmless tricks thrown in to keep the punters happy (and the cash flowing). She firmly draws the line at "full-spirit manifestations" which she considers too exploitative. The new girl has no such scruples. It's a point of view, though more than a little doubtful – can it ever be OK to pretend you're talking to a dear friend's dead twin brother in order to comfort him? And what if you're found out?
On the down side, I thought the book took a little too much time on each storybeat and was too generous with detailed descriptions when I just wanted it to get on with the story. Personally, I'd also have liked some genuine spookiness. The mediums in Mrs Wood never get anywhere close to having a real ghostly encounter. I prefer medium stories with a hint of the supernatural, a "what-if-there's-something-in-it-after-all" element. But that's just me.
The reason I wouldn't call the The Other Side of Mrs Wood neo-Victorian is that there are no references to the classic Victorian novel, and it mainly appears to be set in the 1870s because that's when people were crazy about mediums. The Secrets of Hartwood Hall by Katie Lumsden is another matter. The author sets out her stall right away in her bio: "Katie Lumsden read Jane Eyre at the age of thirteen and never looked back." Neo-Victorianism is afoot.
The novel delivers on its promise: there are clear echoes of Jane Eyre and The Tenant of Wildfell Hall in the plot. The characters themselves are fond of (to them) contemporary literature and read novels by Dickens and others, often when it's thematically relevant. But of course it's not the same story as Jane Eyre. Its heroine, Margaret Lennox, may be a governess, but she has other ideas of what constitutes happiness than Jane.
Lumsden, like Barker, pulls off getting the reader engaged in her protagonist. Margaret is likeable (most of the time) and her affection for Louis, the boy she's teaching, is especially touching. I found Hartwood Hall a very pleasant read and downright page-turning as it neared its climax. The conclusion, though, was a little disappointing, with the "neo" in neo-Victorian coming to the forefront. You could see contemporary preoccupations shining through even earlier. The villains of the tale are Oppressive Husbands and Margaret's love interest is a gentle gardener, younger than her and socially beneath her, an anti-Rochester if you will. He's sweet and all, but I caught myself thinking rebelliously: "Does he have to be such a beta male"?
The novel's twists, while not being exactly what I thought they would be, felt less like "wow, what a rug pull" and more like "OK, so we're doing this". What with the implied praise of "found family" (not that the term is used outright) at the end, I found the modern pieties a little trying, even if they're by no means objectionable in themselves. No matter. I had a good time, and I'll look out for Lumsden's (hopefully also neo-Victorian) next novel.
