My Neo-Victorian Voices series is
dedicated to books written in the twenty-first century, but set in the
nineteenth. Last time, I reviewed Marley,
Jon Clinch’s 2019 novel about Scrooge’s business partner from Charles Dickens’s
1843 A Christmas Carol. This time I’m
writing about Elizabeth Macneal’s debut novel, The Doll Factory, which is set in 1850s London.
The Doll Factory is
the story of Iris, who spends her days painting dolls for a laudanum-addicted
shop owner, and working alongside her disfigured twin sister. Her life changes
forever after meeting two men—Louis Frost, fictional member of the real-life
group of artists known as the Pre Raphaelite Brotherhood (PRB), and Silas, a
lonely taxidermist and curator of curiosities. Iris has artistic aspirations of
her own and so agrees to model for Louis, despite her parents’ and sister’s
opposition and concern for her virtue. Meanwhile, Silas grows increasingly
obsessed with her, fantasising about adding her to his morbid collection.
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| The Doll Factory (2019) |
The novel is dark and certainly
not for the squeamish, but there are moments of levity too. The PRB’s dinner and
pub conversation is well wrought and believable, and their quirks add colour
and interest. Macneal includes anecdotes both real and apocryphal about William Holman Hunt, John Everett Millais,
Dante Gabriel Rossetti et al., from
imperilling their models by posing them in bathtubs to killing an unfortunate
wombat that ate a box of their cigars.
I also found a secondary point of
view character, Albie, particularly compelling. He’s a single-toothed street
urchin who brings Silas dead animals and dreams of one day earning enough money
to buy a set of fake gnashers (that or saving his sister from prostitution). The
conclusion to his story was one of the best paragraphs of a beautifully written
book.
But the heart of the novel is how
well Macneal paints Silas, with his delusions, fixations and obsessions. If you
enjoy getting into the heads of creepy and amoral characters, this novel is a
wonderful exercise in understanding a disturbed mind. If you’d prefer to stick
with the heroes, this won’t be for you. In this regard, the novel reminded me
of Catherine Chidgey’s 2005 The Transformation,
which I also reviewed for this series and very much enjoyed. The denouement of The Doll Factory, which brings Silas and
Iris together, keeps you guessing and is hard to put down. Warning: you might
miss your subway stop.
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| Elizabeth Macneal (1988- ) |
There’s just enough time and
space dedicated to the technicalities of painting for readers with a particular
interest in the art. And the Great Exhibition provides a wonderful historical
backdrop to the vents of the novel. If I had to quibble, I’d say the love story
isn’t as successful as the rest of the book, but this may be a question of
personal taste. No spoilers here, but I was longing to see Iris choose for
herself vs. being chosen and yearned for an even greater contrast between Louis
and Silas’s desire to own her, especially towards the end. Overall, The Doll Factory is more than worthy of
the attention it’s received. If you love the Gothic and Victoriana that’s more macabre
than Christmassy, this one’s for you!
Do you have recommendations for
which novel I should review next as part of my Neo-Victorian Voices series? Let
me know—here, on Facebook or by tweeting @SVictorianist.
And if you want email updates
about my own forthcoming novel, Bronte’s
Mistress, which tells the story of Lydia Robinson, the older woman who had
an affair with Branwell Bronte, sign up for my mailing list below.
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