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| Cartoon of Braddon as a circus girl, The Mask (1868) |
In case my previous blog posts haven’t quite given you the
impression that I’m something of a Braddon-fanatic, this review of top
sensation fiction specimen John Marchmont’s Legacy (1863) should do the
trick. This novel has it all – inheritance plots, deaths, fires, madness, false
imprisonment, bigamy and unrequited love, while being a rich source of material
for students as well as those just looking to spice up their morning commute.
John Marchmont, a former schoolmaster turned stage supernumerary,
unexpectedly comes into a large fortune, but, being consumptive, doesn’t last
long to protect his daughter (and heir) Mary from the mercenary machinations of
his cousin Paul. Throw in a poor choice of second wife to act as evil
stepmother, and a dashing soldier beloved by both women, and the plot is soon set
in motion.
For the general
reader: This is Braddon at her best – exciting, original and dramatic,
while situating her story in a world which is believable and rich in
observational detail. The plot, at times, kept even a hardened sensation fan
like me guessing, but this isn’t detective fiction – much of the joy of reading
here comes from knowing more than the
characters themselves, and I found myself simultaneously longing for resolution
while not wanting the story to end. This is a novel which cries out for film of
TV adaptation. It’s fast-paced and structured around incident rather than
reflection. It’s not the sort of book you need to ‘get through’ or struggle on
to the end with. Maybe the saccharine, childish Mary is a little hard to
swallow as a heroine but Olivia (her stepmother) is a brilliantly drawn complex
character and Braddon’s morality by no means clear cut. I’ll be writing for the
FWSA blog in the next week about whether we can identify Braddon as in any way ‘feminist’.
John Marchmont’s Legacy is the kind
of novel (and Olivia the kind of character) which demonstrates that it is worth
asking these questions, because, rather than in spite, of her incredible contemporary
popularity.
For students: Like
other sensation novels I've discussed, this is a text obsessed with the relationship between life and drama – the performance of roles inherent to the
everyday and the extraordinary. Nineteenth-century interpretations of
Shakespearean tragedy in particular (on stage and off) are a key context
throughout the novel and something I plan to return to in a later post. The ‘inheritance’
itself – Marchmont Towers – and the fire which happens there clearly links the
novel with other Gothic (or semi-Gothic) treatments of the grand country house.
Perhaps Charlotte Bronte’s Jane Eyre (1847) or Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s Aurora
Leigh (1856) could prove fruitful points of comparison. Paul Marchmont’s
profession – as a painter – is also interesting. His violent reaction to a
portrait – by Millais, not of his own making – is a fascinating moment, which
could be tied into some of the ideas about gendering portraiture I’ve already
raised. For those reading Lady Audley’s
Secret (1862), the multiple women in this novel linked to ‘madness’ of one form or
another would be of interest, while a Charles Reade novel I reviewed a couple of months ago also deals with the threat of false detainment in the period on
mental health grounds.
What would you like the Secret Victorianist to review next?
Let me know here, on Facebook or by tweeting @SVictorianist. And, if you’ve
read John Marchmont’s Legacy, let me
know what you thought!
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