If Scooby-Doo and the gang had been on this case, it would have been solved in half an hour, including commercials. Alas, Scooby wasn’t on hand to turn this melodramatic slog into something entertaining before we find out that late-stage capitalism was the real villain all along. Instead, in Kirsten White’s latest novel, Lucy Undying, we the readers are afflicted with more than 450 pages of disorganized epistolary mish-mash that gives fanfiction a bad name.
Why do I summon the spirit of fanfiction? Because in her acknowledgments, White declares that, while she (claims she) loves Bram Stoker’s original Dracula, she firmly headcanons the notion that multiple main characters were involved in a conspiracy to disinherit Lucy and take her family’s holdings for themselves. Also, White seems to think that all the characters in the story secretly loathe each other (which is strange, given how you have instances like Jonathan straight up saying he’d follow Mina to Hell if that was what it took to be with her), and goes as far as writing the “secret diary of Lucy Westenra”, in which Lucy expresses how awful her mother is, how terrible her three suitors are, and how much she hates the society she lives in. See, this Lucy is actually a twenty-first-century girlboss in Victorian clothes because White is one among many authors who don’t seem to be able to do research and find out just how dynamic and outspoken women have been throughout history. But why do that when you can just make your edgy heroine sassy and spiteful to everyone around her and call her “feminist”?
And because we have to find out how Lucy survived the events of Dracula and see what she did throughout the twentieth century, we have “client transcripts” with Lucy’s therapist stuck in between the other main character Iris’s sections and the ‘secret diary of Lucy Westenra’. In these transcripts, we find out how Lucy did things like find a super-secret society of women vampires and stop a major war all by her lonesome by walking in and telling the big-bad generals to stop the fighting right then and there, because she said so.
This wan shade of Lucy Westenra is not the only character we have to endure, though. We also have to put up with Iris, a twenty-first-century American woman on the run from her mother, the leader of a cult-like MLM business who is apparently dead (but maybe not). Thanks to nepotism, Iris is set to inherit the family business, but she wants nothing to do with the business because she has morals. So instead of taking the reins of said business to take it down from within, Iris runs away to somehow be free and yet still try to dismantle said business from without. How will she do this? It’s anyone’s guess including, probably, the author’s. For plot reasons, Iris has fled to London and goes to an abandoned mansion in Hampstead Heath to look for antique furniture she can pawn, instead of just selling the mansion- which belongs to her. Why doesn’t Iris work on selling the mansion that she owns? Well, plot reasons. It would be harder to engineer the (second) meet-cute with a ravishing blonde woman whose identity you’d never guess in a million years.
*sighs*
Some other problems I had with this book:
- The Godalming family is constantly called ‘Goldaming’, and sure, that goes along with the name of the book’s nefarious MLM, but because ‘Goldaming’ is applied to Arthur Holmwood, Lord Godalming, it just looks like White got the name wrong. And sure, I also made that mistake when I first read Dracula, but perhaps you’ll forgive me that because I was twelve at the time.
- In her secret diary, Lucy claims that she doesn’t know how to grieve because her smothering society something or other. But Victorian England is famous for its mourning customs, so… why can’t she grieve?
- Iris is incredibly paranoid because the MLM people are out to get her, but she lets a trio of people waltz right into her life without checking their credentials in any way. I guess they’re just so pretty that they just have to be the good guys.
- These versions of the Dracula characters in no way shape or form resemble their original counterparts, but I guess we’re in a realm where the headcanons are entirely made up and the original source doesn’t matter.
With all that being said, I’ve changed my mind. This mess wouldn’t fit into a half-hour episode of Scooby-Doo. We’d need one of their animated movies, so we can stuff everything in and also make sure that there’s plenty of time for Daphne and Velma, because whatever queerness you might read into that relationship is far deeper than anything Iris has going on.
If you take anything from this review take this advice: don’t read Lucy Undying. Go read Bram Stoker’s Dracula instead. It has plenty of problems of its own, but at least it makes sense and has interesting characters. And after that, go watch some Scooby-Do, where late-stage capitalism is the real villain, too, and you’ll actually be entertained.
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Thank you to NetGalley and Del Rey for providing me with a free review copy.