Affinity, Sarah Waters
I love Sarah Waters. I love that she writes queer historical fiction that (usually) ends happily. It is so damn rare to find a queer couple in a historical fiction novel that gets a goddamn happy ending and Sarah Waters usually manages it, and it makes me smile, so naturally when I found Affinity (and found out that it involved the spiritualist movement) I pounced upon it. I mean, Sarah Waters, queer girls, Spiritualism, Victorian England, what's not to love?
The answer? Many things, but not for me.
Margaret Prior is an upper-class Victorian woman recovering from her father's death and another (later specified) shock that in combination led to a suicide attempt. This is the first thing I want to point out about Affinity; the main viewpoint character pretty clearly suffers from depression, there's bits and pieces of homophobia in there, and she tries to commit suicide twice (well, once that we know of, the second time is strongly implied though). Anyway. We meet Margaret right when she's begun visiting a nearby prison to... I don't know, conduct Victorian charity work on the inmates. She's strongly drawn to one of the inmates, Selina Dawes.
Selina is a spiritualist medium convicted of... something, I don't quite remember but I think it's fraud, after a seance went wrong and her patron ended up dead. Margaret believes that she is innocent, becomes her friend and something more, and at last is determined to break Selina out of prison and perhaps save herself from her torpor and depression in the doing. Things do not go as planned.
This is a wonderfully Gothic novel in the original sense, all spookiness, supernatural horrors, and bitter manipulation. If it was a scene, it would be a shadowed path at night, where you don't know if the looming shapes are monsters or trees, or better yet the looming bulk of Millbank Prison, its darkness and isolation and fear. I spent the entire book with the hairs on the back of my neck raised, worried for Margaret and Selina, amazed at what was happening, wondering if maybe it could somehow turn out all right.
I just. God, I love this book. I'm not a huge fan of Gothic novels or horror, and yet this one just hits me right in the chest every time. The best part is that it stands up to rereads: there's a (pretty devastating, IMO) twist ending, but on rereads you look for every little clue and hint to the twist, and there are plenty. Seriously, though, beware of those suicide triggers.
This entry is crossposted at http://bookblather.dreamwidth.org/332970.html. Please comment over there if possible.
The answer? Many things, but not for me.
Margaret Prior is an upper-class Victorian woman recovering from her father's death and another (later specified) shock that in combination led to a suicide attempt. This is the first thing I want to point out about Affinity; the main viewpoint character pretty clearly suffers from depression, there's bits and pieces of homophobia in there, and she tries to commit suicide twice (well, once that we know of, the second time is strongly implied though). Anyway. We meet Margaret right when she's begun visiting a nearby prison to... I don't know, conduct Victorian charity work on the inmates. She's strongly drawn to one of the inmates, Selina Dawes.
Selina is a spiritualist medium convicted of... something, I don't quite remember but I think it's fraud, after a seance went wrong and her patron ended up dead. Margaret believes that she is innocent, becomes her friend and something more, and at last is determined to break Selina out of prison and perhaps save herself from her torpor and depression in the doing. Things do not go as planned.
This is a wonderfully Gothic novel in the original sense, all spookiness, supernatural horrors, and bitter manipulation. If it was a scene, it would be a shadowed path at night, where you don't know if the looming shapes are monsters or trees, or better yet the looming bulk of Millbank Prison, its darkness and isolation and fear. I spent the entire book with the hairs on the back of my neck raised, worried for Margaret and Selina, amazed at what was happening, wondering if maybe it could somehow turn out all right.
I just. God, I love this book. I'm not a huge fan of Gothic novels or horror, and yet this one just hits me right in the chest every time. The best part is that it stands up to rereads: there's a (pretty devastating, IMO) twist ending, but on rereads you look for every little clue and hint to the twist, and there are plenty. Seriously, though, beware of those suicide triggers.
This entry is crossposted at http://bookblather.dreamwidth.org/332970.html. Please comment over there if possible.