The Woman in White

Wilkie Collins, 1860 

I read this as an ebook, in bits and pieces over the course of several months. Probably that does not do it justice, but I suspect that if I’d tried to read it through, I would have got tired of it and quit. It’s written in a leisurely 19^th century style, often stopping to explore and comment on a character’s thoughts and emotions, which greatly slows the pacing. I can imagine it being read aloud in a drawing room after supper, with the family enjoying the different voices, gasping in horror at the villainy of some of the characters and cheering on the plucky heros. This is probably how Wilkie Collins expected it to be read, and it would probably work best as a melodramatic entertainment with a good reader. (Apparently there are 15 versions of this at Audible.com.)
  To enjoy this kind of pacing, I think there has to be more going on than the simple, if mysterious, plotting in this book. But the characters are one-dimensional and the themes are obvious. There’s not really a lot to think about here. In that sense, it’s a bit like a superficial television detective serial. Entertainment, perhaps but mindless and not very engaging.

  What is interesting to see is the moral absoluteness of the heroic characters. The heroes are gentlemen of honour, who would not consider going back on their word, or questioning another gentleman’s honor. Women, to them, are sacrosanct, gentle beings to be elevated and protected. This makes the bad guys particularly villainous when they abuse their wives or deceive others for money. They all speak in restrained, elevated language, making the weakness of the one who loses his temper quite unspeakable. Fortunately for the English readership, the most evil of the bad guys is Italian, explaining his absolute lack of moral character and his odd habits.

  The characters of the few women are also interesting, except perhaps for the central object, one of two women in white. She, the object of the hero’s attention, is helpless, frequently sickly, and doting – the Victorian stereotype of the adored, delicate, angelic female. By contrast, her poor half-sister is energetic, intelligent, resourceful and strong. She does draw the admiration of the males, but only the most villainous of the bad guys is attracted to her, and in spite of her evident love for the hero and his admiration of her, she loses out to the cute one. If this book doesn’t have the outright racism of Collins’ Moonstone, it makes up for it in sexist stereotyping.

  Along with these black and white human values are the social and political values implicit in the text, such as the repeated references to the unimpeachable British systems of justice and democracy (especially when the villainous Italian Count Fosco extols their superiority). The highest values are reserved for the educated upper classes, while the lower classes are described as ignorant and crude.

  These same faults are common in other writers of 19^th century fiction. Dickens drags out exposition, examines his characters thinking, deals in idealized stereotypes – but he does it with greater substance and style. His depth of detail and character – even for exaggerated characters – draws a reader in, and his emotion creates sympathy. This is lacking in Collins. So for me, this is enough of Wilkie Collins – when I want a leisurely 19^th century read, I’ll turn to Dickens, George Eliot or one of their contemporaries.