This is probably my favourite book I’ve read in the last couple of years. Its originality, impeccable plotting, great character work and intense storytelling makes it unforgettable. I’d like to think of it as a classic …because it feels like one.
The Beast of Bridde Place is not an easy book to categorise—but that is an asset. It means many different kind of readers will find it enthralling, as I did.
It can be read as a Historical Novel—the kind that isn’t about famous people or events, but is set in impeccably researched places (London, the rural north of England and Kent) in the late Victorian period. The story immerses the reader in a different time period—the way the best historical fiction does.
However Victorian the setting, the language used to tell this tale is never stilted or antiquated. Although the language is free of anomalies, slang, and modern imagery, it has a contemporary feel and pace to it, which doesn’t jar at all with the setting and time. The story is told in very accessible language, so plunge in and fear not!
It can also be read as a Murder Mystery—a Whodunnit. The story begins in a London mansion, with a gruesome murder of a rich husband, in bed with his wife (who is injured herself, and remembers nothing specific in the aftermath.) An immediate investigation is launched, and through that investigation we meet one of the three point-of-view characters—a police inspector. And through this inspector we meet many of the denizens of that mansion’s household and outsiders who also figure in the story—some as suspects.
The Beast of Bridde Place can be read as a character-driven story as well. Not only Nora’s character (Nora is the widow of the murdered man) but her husband’s brother, Christopher, who appears on the scene the morning the murder is discovered, after a long absence from the country. He is portrayed through Nora’s eyes, but also through the eyes of the police inspector attending the scene of the crime, and conducting the investigation afterwards. AND Christopher is also seen through the eyes of a woman—Margaret—whom he has been cohabitating with and has just returned to England with him.
All of these characters have realistic personalities, with realistic flaws as well as good qualities. This focus on ‘reality’ in the characters never flags in this story, even as we meet more secondary characters, and move into the other settings, as the story develops. Characters with real personalities and motivations anchor the story very firmly in the real world of Victorian England.
That is important …because the 'real world' is not necessarily the one we are consciously aware of, as we move through it! Legends exist, supernatural things happen, and reality gets distorted, as the characters complete their story arcs.
Unless you start by reading the author’s excellent ‘afterward’ (which I caution you NOT to do until you have read the story through to the end …as spoilers abound) you will not be able to determine what is 'real' and what is not. So The Beast of Bridde Place can also be read as a Gothic Horror story, or a Gothic Fantasy story.
Because the story is so firmly set in a recognisable world, however, and the characters are those you could meet on the street today, the ‘inexplicable/supernatural’ parts of the story seem possible. Tropes abound (the orphan at the grim boarding school, etc) but NONE of these tropes develop the way you expect they will. Watching them morph into something unexpected is one of the delights of reading this story.
Events and people drive relentlessly towards THE END, in the expert hands of the author. That ending is startling, unforgettable—and exactly right.
Compassion is an unexpected lesson to draw from such a story, but it’s the one I took away with me. Compassion for all people, including the ones you don’t quite understand at first. Everybody has a plausible reason for the things they do, don't they?
I’ve already bought copies of this superb book to give to friends. The Beast of Bridde Place is an experience I am eager to share with others. It’s not an English classic yet—but it should be.