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Classic Literature. Fiction. HTML: Lady Audley's Secret was one of the first and most successful sensation novels of the late 19th century. A young gentleman of leisure, Robert Audley, is spurred into action when his friend Geroge Talboys goes missing from Audley Court. As an amateur detective, Robert travels the length and breadth of the country, only to discover that the answer to the mystery lies in the true identity of his uncle's wife, Lady Audley. True to its genre, the novel brings danger home to the private sphere of the country house and questions the unassailable boundaries of class. It is also a strident feminine criticism of the times, though debate still rages as to whether Braddon tidies her questions away too neatly at the end of the novel..… (more)
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This book can be enjoyed on two different levels. First, as a mystery and period piece, it is delightful. There's a huge old mansion with elaborate gardens and secret passageways (modeled, I suspect, on Audley End House in Essex), characters with similar features who can easily be mistaken for one another, and servants who are able to gain the upper hand over the gentry. Braddon employs considerable wit in her writing. She uses a talkative child to show key plot details, just as children often let family secrets slip. She describes even the most ancillary characters and situations with great detail and a touch of humor, such as this description of a landlady living in "dreary" Yorkshire:
Mrs. Barkamb, a comfortable matron of about sixty years of age, was sitting in an arm-chair before a bright fire burning in a grate that was resplendent with newly-polished black lead. An elderly terrier, whose black-and-tan coat was thickly sprinkled with grey, reposed in Mrs. Barkamb's lap. Every object in the quiet sitting-room had an elderly aspect; that aspect of simple comfort and precision which is the outward evidence of inward repose.
"I should like to live here," Robert thought, "and watch the grey sea slowly rolling over the grey sand under the still grey sky. I should like to live here, and tell the beads upon my rosary, and repent and rest."
He seated himself in the arm-chair opposite Mrs. Barkamb, at that lady's invitation, and placed his hat upon the ground. The elderly terrier descended from his mistress's lap to bark at and otherwise take objection to this hat. (p. 212)
Then, after I finished the book, I read Jennifer Uglow's introduction to my Virago Modern Classics edition, published in 1985. The introduction highlights themes and deeper meanings, including the changing role of women in 1850s society. Uglow wrote, "Beneath the zestful, witty melodrama Lady Audley's Secret is a novel about men's fear of women's power, and about their efforts to destroy that power by denying female sexuality, by caging women in theories of reason and madness, by depriving them of education and careers, by burying them in stifling marriages and choking them with the ideology of the happy home." Armed with this insight, I retraced the events in Lady Audley's Secret and derived even more meaning and enjoyment from this book.
Robert Audley is a lethargic barrister whose wealthy uncle Sir Michael Audley has recently married a young governess named Lucy Graham. Robert has heard much of the new Lady Audley's beauty and winning ways, and decides to pay his uncle and adult cousin Alicia a visit. He brings his friend George Talboys, who has lately returned from Australia's gold fields only to learn that his wife Helen just died. While they are at Audley Court, George mysteriously disappears. Robert is certain that George was murdered, but why would anyone want to kill the disconsolate widower? Though naturally of an indolent temperament, Robert finds himself spurred into action on behalf of his friend. But as he digs into the past of his new aunt, Robert realizes that there can be no happy ending, even if justice is served.
The mystery isn't really what you think... the culprit and the crime are pretty clear from the start, and Braddon takes only the most basic and obligatory precautions to shield the identity of the criminal from the reader as the story unfolds. But there is a twist that I wasn't expecting. I'll just say that the scene in which it is revealed is reminiscent of Collins in a particularly melodramatic mood.
Lady Audley is a fairly well-written character, though she lacks the menace of Austen's Lady Susan Vernon. At the end the doctor describes her as having the cunning of madness with the intelligence of sanity, a dangerous combination. I found Braddon's view of women to be somewhat obscure. Several of her female characters in this story are inveterate plotters; some are clever with the luck of impulse and emotion; some are honest and true; some are passionate and compelling. I was struck with Braddon's description of the bitter quarrels between women; at one point Robert muses "how eager these women are to betray one another!" I can see why some critics read a feminist subtext into the story, but it's hard to believe that Braddon herself would condone Lady Audley's actions in the name of women's liberation. And some of the other feminist ideas, that the book is all about caged female sexuality and such, seem a bit eisegetical to me.
What is a Victorian novel without its digressions? Braddon is very conscious of hers and adds them in with a flourish. For the most part they were well written in themselves, but somehow didn't mesh seamlessly with the story. They could have been excised from the story with no disruption to the flow of the narrative, and I don't think the same could be said of the digressive flights of similar authors. I'm not advocating their omission, just noting how noticeable they were in the pattern of the story.
Lady Audley's Secret is sensational not just for the suspense but also for its inversion of so many Victorian ideals about the angelically beautiful mistress of the home. While I did not love it, I found it fairly enjoyable. I'll probably look for more of Braddon's many novels.
Lady Audley is not a feminist heroine, or even a worthy villainess/black widow figure - compared to Beatrice Lacey in Philippa Gregory's 'Wideacre', or Du Maurier's Rebecca, she's barely even wicked! She is just selfish and cold-hearted, driven not by passion but by greed, and perpetrating the same wrongs that she accuses others of - and even when she raises herself above the poverty she was born into, she is not content. I didn't feel one whit of sympathy for her, or admire her audacity and cunning - perhaps because she was but poorly drawn as an antagonist. I'm sure Braddon was being bitterly ironic in painting the 'poor little woman' as a 'childlike' caricature of the Victorian 'angel in the house', replete with golden hair, wide blue eyes and a laugh like the 'peal of silvery bells', who blames her misdeeds on a fit of womanly hysteria, but not even the contrast of a sociopathic alter ego was enough to hold my interest in her pretty ways and constant rambling soliloquies. I love 'femmes fatales' and bewitching heroines, but Lady Audley is neither.
Robert Audley, however, is a gem! He's a delightful if rather slapdash detective, raised out of his normal torpor as a barrister by name and professional flaneur by the disappearance of his friend, George Talboys. Granted, he does become a little wearisome during his monomaniacal quest for justice, and his habit of confiding in Lady Audley as a device to move the action along can be infuriating, but the matching of wits is engrossing to follow, despite the anticlimax of the outcome (I was hoping for a switch of identities, or an escape from punishment, but no - justice is served, and happy endings all round!)
Read as it is, 'Lady Audley's Secret' is an entertaining light read (especially when divested of all introductions and footnotes in the attractive and highly readable Pocket Penguin Classics edition), full of the usual tropes of Victorian novels - gothic settings, melodrama, repressed sensuality, madness and death. Robert Audley is a dashing hero, and his cousin Alicia is an ascerbic yet attractive Marian Halcombe foil for his moody obsessions and nice-but-dim personality. There are some lush descriptions of Audley Court and Robert's bachelor pad in the city (stocked with French novels, canaries and stray dogs - make of that what you will), as well as an atmospheric application of storms, dark nights and fire. The social context of the novel is worth considering - wives were basically the possessions of their husbands, with limited respectable alternatives for living independently - but reading the story and not the subtext is much more fun!
A very satisfying adventure, though I must admit the mystery aspect offered me no great surprises as I had put the pieces together from the first few chapters. All the same, the way in which the characters evolve and the story itself is put together offered plenty of satisfaction. Another touch of Gothic thrills worked into the tale is the presence of a portrait of Lady Audley painted by a Pre-Raphaëlite artist that shows a side of Lucy that only the artist seems to have noticed. The portrait plays a crucial role in the story, but the almost surreal appeal of the painting also brought to mind The Picture of Dorian Gray, which may or may not have been influenced by Lady Audley, but which certainly shares a complexity of themes with it's precursor. Heartily recommended.
There is a lot that could be said with regards
Lots of atmospheric descriptions and good
And just when you think that the novel will be all about unmasking the young Lady Audley (or her successful attempt in hiding her secrets), a man disappears, presumed killed - and she seems to be in the center of that mystery as well. As the book progress she manages to get herself into more and more situations which at least hint of her having even worse secrets. The big problem of course is that if anyone accuses of anything, it is her husband who will suffer - so the nephew who decides to try to get to the bottom of the murder, needs to connect every single dot in his story before he can even try to articulate his suspicions.
And off he goes - pulling and digging and trying to convince himself that he is really right - except that he is restrained by both the Victorian era norms and the mundane - no Sherlock Holmesesian ability to ignore everything else in this novel. Meanwhile our villain is living the life she always wanted - cherished, getting anything she wants and pretending to be the perfect wife.
Braddon's style can appear almost sluggish to a modern reader - but the action never stops. Every incident leads to something new, building the case against the pretty Lucy (who may appear innocent but we can see her true colors early on in some of the actions which noone else in the house sees). And somewhere among all that, even a love story manages to develop.
The introduction in the Penguin edition by Jenny Bourne Taylor and Russell Crofts is very useful in getting some of the ideas and the importance of certain facts which you just may know nothing about (and there are also some notes). It also does things properly by warning the reader before the spoilers start so one can choose if they want to read it at the start or come back later (immediately after that warning, the big secret is revealed and pretty much the whole action and all surprises are laid out so if one decide to continue reading the introduction despite the warning, they cannot blame anyone but themselves).
I really enjoyed this novel - there were times when I wish Braddon had allowed some of her characters to talk to each other and it got a bit tiresome in some parts to have everyone crying out all the time instead of just talking but those are just quibbles. It may not have the control of the language that Dickens and some of the other Victorians have but it is nevertheless fun to read.
Miss Braddon takes us through the unmasking of this ringleted supervillain with huge amounts of energy and with her tongue firmly in her cheek. No character is ever allowed to get very far with a moralistic soliloquy or with reflecting darkly on the evils of the world without being interrupted by some thoroughly mundane consideration, like the landlady coming in with the shaving-water or the cabbie asking for his fare. Even when the hero (finally) goes down on his knees to his girl, the reader is distracted from the young man's eloquent proposal by the creaking of joints... Braddon obviously really enjoyed what she did, as well as making money out of it.
The writing is anything but "literary": like most of us, Braddon clearly believes that clichés were put into the world to save us time and effort, and she uses them liberally. No-one says anything remotely clever or original, and the descriptions of people and places are routine and instantly forgettable. But, despite that, it's always clear, efficient and eminently readable. Everything works to advance the story in the direction she intends it to go, and we stick with her, eager to find out how it's all going to end. And there are all those dry little comments dropped in along the way to undermine any pretence at moral seriousness. Whatever we may think about the Victorians, Miss Braddon makes it clear that at least one of them wasn't having any of that nonsense...
George Talboys arrives home from
Anyone who thinks that the Victorians couldn't produce a page-turner should have a look at this book. Braddon effectively creates a dark and suspenseful atmosphere. While she relies on particularly Victorian conventions to do this, such as stressing Lady Audley's hyper-femininity, the result is still sufficiently gripping, even for the modern reader.
This book is similar to many of the recently-written historical mysteries I've read, and in some ways it seems fresher. I particularly enjoyed spotting Braddon's references to contemporary culture and events like the U.S. Civil War. I was surprised by the book's religious content. Biblical language and allusions are sprinkled throughout the novel. I liked the way Braddon built suspense as Robert became more and more suspicious of Lady Audley's behavior. I was slightly disappointed by the ending, and I wish that Braddon had resolved things a little differently. Lady Audley's Secret reads a lot like a Wilkie Collins novel, and it's a book that every fan of historical mysteries needs to read at some point.
Robert is an unusual romantic hero, in that he is not the least inclined to be romantic, or to move himself to great emotion or action; until, that is, he finds the puzzle of his friend’s disappearance taking on a sinister aspect. I enjoyed him, and Braddon’s other characters, enormously; her writing ranges from slightly preachy, to tongue-in-cheek, to deliciously wry - which vacillating makes it hard to rate this as ‘perfect’, but I was duly entertained and intrigued. The majority of the plot is too projected to be regarded a ‘mystery’, although we await enough important details to keep us hanging on; the real point was, I think, the scandal and, although I didn’t expect to be much moved by it, I discovered that I was actually upset on Lord Audley’s behalf, and therefore more involved in it than I expected.
**spoiler warning on*** If there’s a flaw for me, it’s more era-induced than anything else; for all the importance attached to this novel regarding its highlighting of female roles at the time, there’s all this ‘poor Georging’ in the wake of his disappearance, ignoring the conduct that drove his wife to act on her shallow, greedy instincts - he abandoned her and their son on the spur of the moment, to seek his fortune overseas, without discussing it with her first, or staying in contact afterwards, and all the emphasis is on how noble he was for coming home to her. Given Braddon’s (hopefully) ironic narrative on the subject of femininity, I would have expected a shot or two over the bow of the good ship misogynist on this point, too… or perhaps it was just too subtle for me. **spoiler warning off***
This is certainly one of the more entertaining classic-fiction mysteries I’ve read recently, though. The moral distress incited by the scandal may be subdued by societal evolution, but there’s definitely remnant enough to propel the reader along with Robert Audley. I’ll probably look out for more of her novels and stories, although reviews seem to indicate that this is Braddon’s defining work.
Well I'm not telling more than that, I am not into spoilers. This was a highly entertaining and readable mystery - yes you'll guess some of what's going to happen but trust me the author has a red-herring or two and plenty of twists and turns ahead for the reader. Braddon's style was very light and readable, not as heavy handed as some 19C authors can be and I really enjoyed her descriptions of the settings, particularly the very very old Audley Court and its grounds. This book should appeal to mystery fans as well as those looking for something new in 19C lit and perfect for those days when you're looking for something light, albeit with some substance as well.
Although the mystery of the book is not up to that of Wilkie's best, it still does allow you to ponder exactly what did transpire and how. For anyone a fan of this genre , this book is a must. I still can't believe that I was not lead to read this book years ago. It's a winner by far.