By no stretch of the imagination can this
be counted a great novel: at best, it is engaging, tightly plotted, reasonably
well-written with some interesting satire on the art market. However, it is
also full of unbelievable coincidence, over sentimentalised, with a lead
character so irritating that one could cheerfully throttle him. It certainly
offers no great insight on the human condition. Compared with Basil, the controversial novel which
preceded it – and despite Basil's many faults – this is a step backwards.
Collins is a master of the slow-reveal, the
plot which reveals its secrets layer by layer, and this is a good example. Mystery
surrounds the background of saintly deaf and dumb girl Mary, known to all - heavy symbolism alert – as Madonna, who has
been obtained from a circus, where she was being mistreated, by artist
Valentine Blythe. Blythe wants to hide her so that she cannot be reclaimed from
him by her real family, but unfortunately his ne’er-do-well young friend Zack
Thorpe has met with a mysterious character in a punch-up in a London drinking den who is also on the
lookout for Mary.
Zack is an impetuous, rash young man:
rebelling against his repressively strict father he is much given to carousing,
but his heart is in the right place. He is however totally unreflective and has a mouth on overdrive that gets wearing after a while. Valentine is probably the most believable
character in the book, not a particularly good artist, but one good enough to
make a living from those who didn’t know any better. Having an artist-father (a
very good artist at that), Wilkie Collins knew what he was talking about here.
Valentine’s wife and Mary herself are simply too good to be true. However, it
is the mysterious Matt that dominates the second part of the book. Is Zack
being naive in trusting him? Is he a force for good or evil? What is his link
to Mary?
Throughout his writing career, Collins is a
consistently harsh critic of hypocrisy. As the father of at least three
illegitimate children himself, his respect for such children’s opportunities in
life and contempt for those who seek to evade their responsibility for them is clearly
shown through all his works. Eventually, the mystery of Mary’s origins are
explained, whilst – unlike in Basil –
Victorian proprieties are respected. Whilst this is a neat resolution, the
novel lacks the real cutting edge that one associates with Collins’ best
fiction.
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