Book Meme, Day 16
16. Can't believe more people haven't read.
Well, it’s not that it’s utterly unread, but Armadale by Wilkie Collins has become something of a forgotten classic. I mean, Collins in general with his „Dickens‘ trashier pal“ reputation is due for a renaissance, but The Woman in White never got out of fashion, Moonstone has the „first modern detective novel“ market cornered at least, and Armadale is my faaaaaaavourite, and thus I’m choosing it for this reply. My main reason for loving it is its redhaired, clever and snarky villainess/anti-heroine, Lydia Gwilt - not for nothing did Wilkie C. call the theatre version of his novel which he distilled from it „Miss Gwilt“ -, but it has other virtues as well. It’s the „sensation novel“, the Wilkie Collins genre per excellence, in fine form: dastardly, complicated intrigues, doppelgangers, complicated murders, hair-raising escapes, sarcastic dialogue, and ample text and subtext for unusual living arrangements. If you’re into m/m, well, two of the novel’s four Alan Armadales whose father were arch enemies swear themselves best friends instead - love across a family feud, only with a happy ending, no less - and are devoted above and beyond.
But, as mentioned, my main reason for adoring this book is Lydia. Who is introduced in classic Victorian villainess fashion in the first part of the novel - red hair, up to no good, the reader though not the blond and none too bright Alan Armadale deduces instantly she’s identical with someone he’s been warned about as she seduces him away from his love interest whose governess she is - but then we get Lydia’s journal excerpts and some of her letters, and her first person narration is so engaging in its sarcasm and vivacity that she takes over the book. It’s impossible not to root for her instead of Team Armadale. She also has those quintessentials for villaindom turned into anti-hero-ness, a horrible past from early childhood onwards, a drug habit (like her author and a great many 19th century types, Lydia is into various opiates) and true love for one of the virtuous characters (the dark haired and smarter of the Alan Armadales, going by the nome de plume of Ozias Midwinter). To the great indignation of some contemporary critics, she gets to keep her beauty, her red hair and gets an heroic if tragic ending. I requested her once for Yuletide and got not one but two stories about her, one of which has her having faked her death and having adventures elsewhere, which made me profoundly happy.
1. Favorite book from childhood
2. Best Bargain
3. One with a blue cover.
4. Least favorite book by favorite author
5. Doesn't belong to me.
6. The one I always give as a gift.
7. Forgot I owned it.
8. Have more than one copy.
9. Film or tv tie-in.
10. Reminds me of someone I love.
11. Second hand bookshop gem.
12. I pretend to have read it.
13. Makes me laugh.
14. An old favorite.
15. Favorite Fictional Father
17. Future classic.
18. Bought on a recommendation.
19. Still can't stop talking about it.
20. Favorite cover.
21. Summer read.
22. Out of print.
23. Made to read at school.
24. Hooked me into reading.
25. Never finished it.
26. Should have sold more copies.
27. Want to be one of the characters.
28. Bought at my fave independent bookshop.
29. The one I have reread most often.
30. Would save if my house burned down.
This entry was originally posted at https://selenak.dreamwidth.org/1291899.html. Comment there or here, as you wish.
Well, it’s not that it’s utterly unread, but Armadale by Wilkie Collins has become something of a forgotten classic. I mean, Collins in general with his „Dickens‘ trashier pal“ reputation is due for a renaissance, but The Woman in White never got out of fashion, Moonstone has the „first modern detective novel“ market cornered at least, and Armadale is my faaaaaaavourite, and thus I’m choosing it for this reply. My main reason for loving it is its redhaired, clever and snarky villainess/anti-heroine, Lydia Gwilt - not for nothing did Wilkie C. call the theatre version of his novel which he distilled from it „Miss Gwilt“ -, but it has other virtues as well. It’s the „sensation novel“, the Wilkie Collins genre per excellence, in fine form: dastardly, complicated intrigues, doppelgangers, complicated murders, hair-raising escapes, sarcastic dialogue, and ample text and subtext for unusual living arrangements. If you’re into m/m, well, two of the novel’s four Alan Armadales whose father were arch enemies swear themselves best friends instead - love across a family feud, only with a happy ending, no less - and are devoted above and beyond.
But, as mentioned, my main reason for adoring this book is Lydia. Who is introduced in classic Victorian villainess fashion in the first part of the novel - red hair, up to no good, the reader though not the blond and none too bright Alan Armadale deduces instantly she’s identical with someone he’s been warned about as she seduces him away from his love interest whose governess she is - but then we get Lydia’s journal excerpts and some of her letters, and her first person narration is so engaging in its sarcasm and vivacity that she takes over the book. It’s impossible not to root for her instead of Team Armadale. She also has those quintessentials for villaindom turned into anti-hero-ness, a horrible past from early childhood onwards, a drug habit (like her author and a great many 19th century types, Lydia is into various opiates) and true love for one of the virtuous characters (the dark haired and smarter of the Alan Armadales, going by the nome de plume of Ozias Midwinter). To the great indignation of some contemporary critics, she gets to keep her beauty, her red hair and gets an heroic if tragic ending. I requested her once for Yuletide and got not one but two stories about her, one of which has her having faked her death and having adventures elsewhere, which made me profoundly happy.
1. Favorite book from childhood
2. Best Bargain
3. One with a blue cover.
4. Least favorite book by favorite author
5. Doesn't belong to me.
6. The one I always give as a gift.
7. Forgot I owned it.
8. Have more than one copy.
9. Film or tv tie-in.
10. Reminds me of someone I love.
11. Second hand bookshop gem.
12. I pretend to have read it.
13. Makes me laugh.
14. An old favorite.
15. Favorite Fictional Father
17. Future classic.
18. Bought on a recommendation.
19. Still can't stop talking about it.
20. Favorite cover.
21. Summer read.
22. Out of print.
23. Made to read at school.
24. Hooked me into reading.
25. Never finished it.
26. Should have sold more copies.
27. Want to be one of the characters.
28. Bought at my fave independent bookshop.
29. The one I have reread most often.
30. Would save if my house burned down.
This entry was originally posted at https://selenak.dreamwidth.org/1291899.html. Comment there or here, as you wish.