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The Law and the Lady
Probably the first full-length novel with a woman detective as its heroine, The Law and the Lady (1875) is a fascinating example of Collins' later fiction. Valeria Valerie Woodville's first act as a married woman is to sign her name incorrectly in the marriage register; this slip is followed by a gradual disclosure of secrets about her husband's earlier life, each of which leads to another set of questions and enigmas. Developing many of the techniques at work in The Moonstone in bizarre and unexpected ways, and employing both Gothic and fantastic elements, The Law and the Lady adds a significant dimension to the history of the detective novel.
About the Series: For over 100 years Oxford World's Classics has made available the broadest spectrum of literature from around the globe. Each affordable volume reflects Oxford's commitment to scholarship, providing the most accurate text plus a wealth of other valuable features, including expert introductions by leading authorities, voluminous notes to clarify the text, up-to-date bibliographies for further study, and much more.
About the Series: For over 100 years Oxford World's Classics has made available the broadest spectrum of literature from around the globe. Each affordable volume reflects Oxford's commitment to scholarship, providing the most accurate text plus a wealth of other valuable features, including expert introductions by leading authorities, voluminous notes to clarify the text, up-to-date bibliographies for further study, and much more.
464 pages, Paperback
First published February 1, 1875
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About the author
Wilkie Collins
2,467 books2,994 followersWilkie Collins was an English novelist and playwright, best known for The Woman in White (1860), an early sensation novel, and The Moonstone (1868), a pioneering work of detective fiction. Born to landscape painter William Collins and Harriet Geddes, he spent part of his childhood in Italy and France, learning both languages. Initially working as a tea merchant, he later studied law, though he never practiced. His literary career began with Antonina (1850), and a meeting with Charles Dickens in 1851 proved pivotal. The two became close friends and collaborators, with Collins contributing to Dickens' journals and co-writing dramatic works.
Collins' success peaked in the 1860s with novels that combined suspense with social critique, including No Name (1862), Armadale (1864), and The Moonstone, which established key elements of the modern detective story. His personal life was unconventional—he openly opposed marriage and lived with Caroline Graves and her daughter for much of his life, while also maintaining a separate relationship with Martha Rudd, with whom he had three children.
Plagued by gout, Collins became addicted to laudanum, which affected both his health and later works. Despite declining quality in his writing, he remained a respected figure, mentoring younger authors and advocating for writers' rights. He died in 1889 and was buried in Kensal Green Cemetery. His legacy endures through his influential novels, which laid the groundwork for both sensation fiction and detective literature.
Collins' success peaked in the 1860s with novels that combined suspense with social critique, including No Name (1862), Armadale (1864), and The Moonstone, which established key elements of the modern detective story. His personal life was unconventional—he openly opposed marriage and lived with Caroline Graves and her daughter for much of his life, while also maintaining a separate relationship with Martha Rudd, with whom he had three children.
Plagued by gout, Collins became addicted to laudanum, which affected both his health and later works. Despite declining quality in his writing, he remained a respected figure, mentoring younger authors and advocating for writers' rights. He died in 1889 and was buried in Kensal Green Cemetery. His legacy endures through his influential novels, which laid the groundwork for both sensation fiction and detective literature.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 352 reviews
December 13, 2022
The Law and the Lady is a lesser-known sensation novel by Wilkie Collins. The story is simply a wife's quest to clear her husband from the "Scotch verdict" and establish his innocence. When I read the synopsis of the story, the legal aspect of the story appealed to me. A wife seeking to vindicate her husband could only mean that Collins has introduced yet another strong heroine to the readers. These two reasons made me very much interested in reading this work.
The book is partly satisfying and partly disappointing. The story is interesting enough. And as the synopsis promised, I enjoyed the legal aspect of the story and also the mystery surrounding it. The headstrong and obstinate heroine brought life and energy to the story. The story was dramatic and suspenseful enough to keep me engaged. All good. But having read the major works of Collins, I can honestly say that this work lacked imagination. Being a work of Wilkie Collins, I expected more.
I enjoyed the read of course. But I realized that sometimes there is a reason for a book to be less well known. :)
The book is partly satisfying and partly disappointing. The story is interesting enough. And as the synopsis promised, I enjoyed the legal aspect of the story and also the mystery surrounding it. The headstrong and obstinate heroine brought life and energy to the story. The story was dramatic and suspenseful enough to keep me engaged. All good. But having read the major works of Collins, I can honestly say that this work lacked imagination. Being a work of Wilkie Collins, I expected more.
I enjoyed the read of course. But I realized that sometimes there is a reason for a book to be less well known. :)
March 3, 2022
This was a strange but compelling book, with some interesting characters and a strong mystery. I think I really liked it, though I haven't entirely gathered my thoughts on it yet.
April 21, 2021
Valeria Woodville has just married at the opening of this story and is ready to depart on her honeymoon, when she discovers that her husband has married her under an assumed name and is hiding a secret from his past life. The secret is that he has had a prior marriage and his first wife has died from arsenic poisoning. He was accused of her murder, stood trial, and a verdict was returned of unproven...he was not convicted, but neither was he cleared.
Valeria sets out to solve the mystery of the first wife’s death and clear her husband’s name, despite severe obstacles, which include her husband’s lack of cooperation in her efforts. What ensues is a story that includes some very interesting and strange characters and some serious red herrings that lead the reader off the path and back again. I felt it had an anti-climactic ending, and at least one character reaction that defied my ability to believe, even given its Victorian framework.
This book would probably have been better in its original serial form. I could imagine being left hanging at the end of the chapters and having to wait for the next segment. Reading it straight through, I longed for some better editing, as some sections seemed to go on forever to no real purpose. Of the Collins I have read, this one is the least captivating. I have not exhausted his works, but I suspect I may have now read the best of them. If you have not read Wilkie Collins, by all means begin with The Moonstone, The Woman in White, or No Name, all excellent mysteries, which this one fails to rival.
Valeria sets out to solve the mystery of the first wife’s death and clear her husband’s name, despite severe obstacles, which include her husband’s lack of cooperation in her efforts. What ensues is a story that includes some very interesting and strange characters and some serious red herrings that lead the reader off the path and back again. I felt it had an anti-climactic ending, and at least one character reaction that defied my ability to believe, even given its Victorian framework.
This book would probably have been better in its original serial form. I could imagine being left hanging at the end of the chapters and having to wait for the next segment. Reading it straight through, I longed for some better editing, as some sections seemed to go on forever to no real purpose. Of the Collins I have read, this one is the least captivating. I have not exhausted his works, but I suspect I may have now read the best of them. If you have not read Wilkie Collins, by all means begin with The Moonstone, The Woman in White, or No Name, all excellent mysteries, which this one fails to rival.
June 12, 2014
Bona fide Victorian melodrama! Lady detective! Cold case! Occasional Scottish legal theory!
There are surprisingly many things in law that I have come across that make people who have not been brought up accepting them want to build a nuclear bunker and hide for eternity the moment they understand what they're really looking at. In this category I include things like English defamation law, the fact that we quietly haven't had habeus corpus in the UK for about the last decade (no really, I promise you), and the entire body and history of public international law. But, you know, the Scottish verdict of 'Not Proven' is the one that gets me. I genuinely can't see a positive side to having it - certainly not one that is compatible with the presumption of innocence which is so important to making trials fair. This being said, the concept of 'Not Proven', and the INCREDIBLY BLASE ABOUT IT attitude of some of the Scots lawyers I know, makes me break out in a cold sweat.
Prime melodrama potential, then.
And it absolutely delivered, or I thought so - suitably twisty and turny, masterfully plotted. This is my first foray into Wilkie Collins, and you several people who have insisted I read The Woman in White at some point, you were all right and once again I was wrong. I think this is a writer that I like. It was all going extremely well indeed.
And then there was that guy. At the beginning of the book, there was a disclaimer from the author, to the effect of, "Okay, just saying, before you read this - not everyone is rational all the time. It's fiction, they're not all going to behave like you. Just bear it in mind before you decide to write me that letter." And I thought, how cute, no writer would get away with putting that in the front of their novel these days, which is true, but also when I got about two thirds of the way through TLATL, my skin was crawling and it was because of That Guy. The one with the incredible levels of emotional manipulation and that assault that happened. I genuinely can't tell how Wilkie Collins handled it. Was that handled well, but realistically? Was it handled badly, and I put the chills down my spine myself? I honestly can't tell. At any rate I don't think it was what he was driving at with the disclaimer, but it was what I thought of. I wonder how that'll work in another century.
It was going to take a lot for me to not like this. Frankly I will take being this kind of predictable.
There are surprisingly many things in law that I have come across that make people who have not been brought up accepting them want to build a nuclear bunker and hide for eternity the moment they understand what they're really looking at. In this category I include things like English defamation law, the fact that we quietly haven't had habeus corpus in the UK for about the last decade (no really, I promise you), and the entire body and history of public international law. But, you know, the Scottish verdict of 'Not Proven' is the one that gets me. I genuinely can't see a positive side to having it - certainly not one that is compatible with the presumption of innocence which is so important to making trials fair. This being said, the concept of 'Not Proven', and the INCREDIBLY BLASE ABOUT IT attitude of some of the Scots lawyers I know, makes me break out in a cold sweat.
Prime melodrama potential, then.
And it absolutely delivered, or I thought so - suitably twisty and turny, masterfully plotted. This is my first foray into Wilkie Collins, and you several people who have insisted I read The Woman in White at some point, you were all right and once again I was wrong. I think this is a writer that I like. It was all going extremely well indeed.
And then there was that guy. At the beginning of the book, there was a disclaimer from the author, to the effect of, "Okay, just saying, before you read this - not everyone is rational all the time. It's fiction, they're not all going to behave like you. Just bear it in mind before you decide to write me that letter." And I thought, how cute, no writer would get away with putting that in the front of their novel these days, which is true, but also when I got about two thirds of the way through TLATL, my skin was crawling and it was because of That Guy. The one with the incredible levels of emotional manipulation and that assault that happened. I genuinely can't tell how Wilkie Collins handled it. Was that handled well, but realistically? Was it handled badly, and I put the chills down my spine myself? I honestly can't tell. At any rate I don't think it was what he was driving at with the disclaimer, but it was what I thought of. I wonder how that'll work in another century.
It was going to take a lot for me to not like this. Frankly I will take being this kind of predictable.
August 20, 2022
Potrebbero essere tre stelle e mezzo.
Si tratta di un romanzo che si può considerare un antesignano dei romanzi investigativi, pur non essendovi poliziotti nè investigatori alla Sherlock Holmes. Però c'è una morta, mrs. McCallan, avvelenata con l'arsenico. Una donna brutta, non amata dal marito ma solo tollerata, sposata in un momento di disperazione di mr. Eustace McCallan, quando scopre di non poter sposare la donna amata. Anche allora come oggi chi è il primo sospettato? Ma il marito, naturalmente, che viene sottoposto a processo e ... assolto per insufficienza di prove. Embè -direte- qual è il problema?
Il problema è che Eustace si innamora di un'altra donna, questa volta bella, giovane e innamorata, Valeria, che ignora il suo passato. Mai lui vorrebbe farle conoscere quanto accaduto, sarebbe una vergogna indicibile! Così si presenta a lei con un nome diverso (che tonto!). Ma Valeria, che invece è una donna testarda, decisa e intelligente, scopre tutto e si mette ad investigare per togliere l'onta dell'insufficienza di prove dall'amato marito. Lui va assolto perchè non ha commesso il fatto -direbbe oggi un avvocato-! Così va avanti la storia, a momenti interessante, a momenti noiosa, secondo me portata troppo per le lunghe e risolta alla fine con "escamotage" poco convincenti, raccontata in prima persona da Valeria stessa. Certo, lei è un personaggio moderno, mi è piaciuta, il marito invece l'ho considerato un allocco dal primo momento, poi ci sono altri personaggi davvero singolari, quali Miserrimus Dexter, un paralitico amico di Eustace che era presente al momento della morte di mrs. McCallan, un essere folle, dalla personalità dalle mille sfaccettature, a partire dalla malvagità fino all'amore assoluto, assistito da una serva, Ariel, che non si sa se sia donna o uomo, brutta, ottusa, una specie di animale fedele al suo padrone fino alla morte. Una lettura senza impegno, per lo più piacevole.
Si tratta di un romanzo che si può considerare un antesignano dei romanzi investigativi, pur non essendovi poliziotti nè investigatori alla Sherlock Holmes. Però c'è una morta, mrs. McCallan, avvelenata con l'arsenico. Una donna brutta, non amata dal marito ma solo tollerata, sposata in un momento di disperazione di mr. Eustace McCallan, quando scopre di non poter sposare la donna amata. Anche allora come oggi chi è il primo sospettato? Ma il marito, naturalmente, che viene sottoposto a processo e ... assolto per insufficienza di prove. Embè -direte- qual è il problema?
Il problema è che Eustace si innamora di un'altra donna, questa volta bella, giovane e innamorata, Valeria, che ignora il suo passato. Mai lui vorrebbe farle conoscere quanto accaduto, sarebbe una vergogna indicibile! Così si presenta a lei con un nome diverso (che tonto!). Ma Valeria, che invece è una donna testarda, decisa e intelligente, scopre tutto e si mette ad investigare per togliere l'onta dell'insufficienza di prove dall'amato marito. Lui va assolto perchè non ha commesso il fatto -direbbe oggi un avvocato-! Così va avanti la storia, a momenti interessante, a momenti noiosa, secondo me portata troppo per le lunghe e risolta alla fine con "escamotage" poco convincenti, raccontata in prima persona da Valeria stessa. Certo, lei è un personaggio moderno, mi è piaciuta, il marito invece l'ho considerato un allocco dal primo momento, poi ci sono altri personaggi davvero singolari, quali Miserrimus Dexter, un paralitico amico di Eustace che era presente al momento della morte di mrs. McCallan, un essere folle, dalla personalità dalle mille sfaccettature, a partire dalla malvagità fino all'amore assoluto, assistito da una serva, Ariel, che non si sa se sia donna o uomo, brutta, ottusa, una specie di animale fedele al suo padrone fino alla morte. Una lettura senza impegno, per lo più piacevole.
March 28, 2015
Every time I read a book by Wilkie Collins, I am struck by the sensation that if we had lived in the same age and time, we could have been good friends.
His style of writing is clear and character portrayal is always fascinating. His language is simple and honest and his narrative is captivating.
This is however not one of his best mysteries and the end leaves me slightly disappointed.
The moral of the story has not aged as gracefully as his writing and I am torn as to wether I would recommend the book to anyone but a fan, now that it’s completely over.
Valeria, the main character, is a surprisingly independent woman, considering her time, but she gives way to her opinions by the orders of her husband, whom she loves dearly. She makes me, as a reader in today's society, doubt the consistency of her character. Her faith, intelligence, ambitions, and desires get swept away and it makes me dislike her husband, despite the honest intentions of Collins.
On a more positive note, the character of Miserrimus Dexter is a real pleasure to read. True to his form, Collins takes the complexity of humanity and brings it to life with nothing but ink and paper.
My final verdict is that this story has not aged well but it is still worth the read for the display of the tremendous talent that was Collins.
His style of writing is clear and character portrayal is always fascinating. His language is simple and honest and his narrative is captivating.
This is however not one of his best mysteries and the end leaves me slightly disappointed.
The moral of the story has not aged as gracefully as his writing and I am torn as to wether I would recommend the book to anyone but a fan, now that it’s completely over.
Valeria, the main character, is a surprisingly independent woman, considering her time, but she gives way to her opinions by the orders of her husband, whom she loves dearly. She makes me, as a reader in today's society, doubt the consistency of her character. Her faith, intelligence, ambitions, and desires get swept away and it makes me dislike her husband, despite the honest intentions of Collins.
On a more positive note, the character of Miserrimus Dexter is a real pleasure to read. True to his form, Collins takes the complexity of humanity and brings it to life with nothing but ink and paper.
My final verdict is that this story has not aged well but it is still worth the read for the display of the tremendous talent that was Collins.
October 12, 2021
Another very enjoyable read from Wilkie.
December 29, 2016
The Law and the Lady was my fifth venture into the world of Victorian sensation fiction, following Collins’s Basil and The Dead Secret, Mary Elizabeth Braddon’s Lady Audley's Secret, and Thomas Hardy’s Desperate Remedies. It is proving a richly rewarding inquiry, in all kinds of ways, even though the literary quality of these works has been mixed.
The Law and the Lady is one of the less inspiring of these works, from a stylistic point of view, along with Lady Audley’s Secret. It is distinctly less finished than Collins’s earlier Basil and The Dead Secret, or Hardy’s Desperate Remedies, which is quite lovely at points.
What The Law and the Lady lacks in terms of the quality of its prose, however, I think it compensates for quite splendidly in terms of narrative invention. The plot is as twisty and turny as you would expect in a sensation novel, as long as you’re willing to swallow the usual dose of coincidences and implausibilities; and the characterization is startlingly bold and original, especially in terms of the characters’ gender identities and roles.
The plot, briefly, is this. The protagonist, a young married woman, Valeria Woodville, discovers a scandal about the past life of her new husband. The discovery parts them; and Valeria devotes herself to revindicating her husband’s name, turning proto-detective in the process, and engaging with all kinds of more and less salubrious characters along the way.
Already, with the valorous Valeria and her shrinking husband Eustace, we find ourselves on the wrong side of normal Victorian gender values. Valeria and her doughty mother-in-law Catherine Macallan drive forward the action, while Eustace variously expostulates and repines, in a stereotypically "feminine" manner. (There is a very funny conversation between Valeria and Catherine over whether Eustace is actually weak—his mother’s preferred position—or rather “of delicate sensibility,” as his wife charitably suggests.)
Valeria is flanked by various well-meaning men who tell her how outrageous she is to persist in her quest: her uncle Starkweather, a vicar; her father’s faithful clerk, Benjamin; her husband’s ex-lawyer, Playmore; the ludicrous aged Don Juan, Major Fitz-David. All are quite right in their assessment, by Valeria’s own acknowledgment. She represents herself quite cheerfully as in the wrong through the whole quest, while continuing to do exactly as she pleases.
All this is refreshing enough, without the scene-stealing minor character of Miserrimus Dexter, who is surely one of the most splendidly-named characters in Victorian fiction, as well as one of the most memorable in absolute. I was blown away by this figure, as soon as he appeared: legless as a result of a birth defect; rattling manically down corridors in his wheelchair (“the modern Centaur: half man, half chair;”); part Byronic hero; part tranvestite, in his rose silk jacket; unsettling in his overt, but ambiguous, sexuality; master of the feminine arts of embroidery and cookery; ever primed for a mournful ditty on his harp.
I have recently begun to investigate the field of historical disability studies, for my own academic work—though looking at a much earlier period—and I was immediately intrigued to see how much Miserrimus D. had impacted on the field. I was pleased to see that a Cambridge scholar, Clare Walker Gore, had written an excellent recent blog post on this character in the context of disability studies, which says pretty much exactly what I would might have wanted to say in this review:
https://victorianist.wordpress.com/20...
The Law and the Lady is one of the less inspiring of these works, from a stylistic point of view, along with Lady Audley’s Secret. It is distinctly less finished than Collins’s earlier Basil and The Dead Secret, or Hardy’s Desperate Remedies, which is quite lovely at points.
What The Law and the Lady lacks in terms of the quality of its prose, however, I think it compensates for quite splendidly in terms of narrative invention. The plot is as twisty and turny as you would expect in a sensation novel, as long as you’re willing to swallow the usual dose of coincidences and implausibilities; and the characterization is startlingly bold and original, especially in terms of the characters’ gender identities and roles.
The plot, briefly, is this. The protagonist, a young married woman, Valeria Woodville, discovers a scandal about the past life of her new husband. The discovery parts them; and Valeria devotes herself to revindicating her husband’s name, turning proto-detective in the process, and engaging with all kinds of more and less salubrious characters along the way.
Already, with the valorous Valeria and her shrinking husband Eustace, we find ourselves on the wrong side of normal Victorian gender values. Valeria and her doughty mother-in-law Catherine Macallan drive forward the action, while Eustace variously expostulates and repines, in a stereotypically "feminine" manner. (There is a very funny conversation between Valeria and Catherine over whether Eustace is actually weak—his mother’s preferred position—or rather “of delicate sensibility,” as his wife charitably suggests.)
Valeria is flanked by various well-meaning men who tell her how outrageous she is to persist in her quest: her uncle Starkweather, a vicar; her father’s faithful clerk, Benjamin; her husband’s ex-lawyer, Playmore; the ludicrous aged Don Juan, Major Fitz-David. All are quite right in their assessment, by Valeria’s own acknowledgment. She represents herself quite cheerfully as in the wrong through the whole quest, while continuing to do exactly as she pleases.
All this is refreshing enough, without the scene-stealing minor character of Miserrimus Dexter, who is surely one of the most splendidly-named characters in Victorian fiction, as well as one of the most memorable in absolute. I was blown away by this figure, as soon as he appeared: legless as a result of a birth defect; rattling manically down corridors in his wheelchair (“the modern Centaur: half man, half chair;”); part Byronic hero; part tranvestite, in his rose silk jacket; unsettling in his overt, but ambiguous, sexuality; master of the feminine arts of embroidery and cookery; ever primed for a mournful ditty on his harp.
I have recently begun to investigate the field of historical disability studies, for my own academic work—though looking at a much earlier period—and I was immediately intrigued to see how much Miserrimus D. had impacted on the field. I was pleased to see that a Cambridge scholar, Clare Walker Gore, had written an excellent recent blog post on this character in the context of disability studies, which says pretty much exactly what I would might have wanted to say in this review:
https://victorianist.wordpress.com/20...
May 6, 2018
3.5 stars
I am mildly stunned at how much I enjoyed this. Me and Victorian novels don't have the easiest relationship. But this was easy to read and the mystery of whodunnit kept me turning pages. (Pretty peeved the introduction spoiled it for me)
Then again, it's lowbrow literature and (insert rambling critics' rant here). Whatevas, I'm trash for a good book. Keep me entertained and we'll get along splendidly.
I am mildly stunned at how much I enjoyed this. Me and Victorian novels don't have the easiest relationship. But this was easy to read and the mystery of whodunnit kept me turning pages. (Pretty peeved the introduction spoiled it for me)
Then again, it's lowbrow literature and (insert rambling critics' rant here). Whatevas, I'm trash for a good book. Keep me entertained and we'll get along splendidly.
October 31, 2022
My last read of Victober 2022 and a twisty turny one! It’s definitely on the intense side for my taste but I thought the plotting was brilliant. I did half suspect the outcome early on but I could never fully be sure. Valeria is a great character! I also particularly liked Mr Playmore, Mr Benjamin, and Mrs Macallan. Dexter is…something else!
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May 13, 2018Na koliko nivoa me je ova knjiga razočarala? Beskrajno mnogo. Ipak je ovo Vilki Kolins koji je napisao dva fenomenalno kabasta, neverovatna i zabavna viktorijanska krimića, Ženu u belom i Žuti dijamant (The Moonstone). I još par njih koji su bili sasvim zadovoljavajući.
Ali ovo je propast svetskih razmera. Junakinja je još i pomozbože, ali njena misija - da dokaže kako njen novopečeni suprug nije otrovao svoju prvu ženu - trebalo bi, zar ne, da bude... kako da kažem... od strane čitaoca dočekana pozitivno. A ovde to baš nije i ne može biti slučaj. Jer je suprug (nevino oklevetan, siromah) od samog početka prikazan kao bedni crv i lažljivi kukavički samosažaljivi beskičmenjak koji obmanjuje naivnu devojku. I takav je sve do kraja, toliko dosledno i toliko bednički da je Kolins smatrao za neophodno da na početak stavi upozorenje čitaocima: "Be pleased, then, to remember (First): That the actions of human beings are not invariably governed by the laws of pure reason. (Secondly): That we are by no means always in the habit of bestowing our love on the objects which are the most deserving of it, in the opinions of our friends." Ali to upozorenje, ma koliko tačno, naprosto nije dovoljno.
I tako, dok mi pokušavamo da navijamo za junakinju čiji je životni moto "on je krpa al je moooooj" Kolins nas dodatno opterećuje jednim od najgrotesknijih likova viđenih posle romantičarske drame, Mizerimusom Deksterom, i beskrajno nezanimljivom dedukcijom i uopšte... prosto, ne sećam se kad sam poslednji put zažalila što knjiga ima srećan kraj umesto što ih nije kolektivno grom spržio.
Ali ovo je propast svetskih razmera. Junakinja je još i pomozbože, ali njena misija - da dokaže kako njen novopečeni suprug nije otrovao svoju prvu ženu - trebalo bi, zar ne, da bude... kako da kažem... od strane čitaoca dočekana pozitivno. A ovde to baš nije i ne može biti slučaj. Jer je suprug (nevino oklevetan, siromah) od samog početka prikazan kao bedni crv i lažljivi kukavički samosažaljivi beskičmenjak koji obmanjuje naivnu devojku. I takav je sve do kraja, toliko dosledno i toliko bednički da je Kolins smatrao za neophodno da na početak stavi upozorenje čitaocima: "Be pleased, then, to remember (First): That the actions of human beings are not invariably governed by the laws of pure reason. (Secondly): That we are by no means always in the habit of bestowing our love on the objects which are the most deserving of it, in the opinions of our friends." Ali to upozorenje, ma koliko tačno, naprosto nije dovoljno.
I tako, dok mi pokušavamo da navijamo za junakinju čiji je životni moto "on je krpa al je moooooj" Kolins nas dodatno opterećuje jednim od najgrotesknijih likova viđenih posle romantičarske drame, Mizerimusom Deksterom, i beskrajno nezanimljivom dedukcijom i uopšte... prosto, ne sećam se kad sam poslednji put zažalila što knjiga ima srećan kraj umesto što ih nije kolektivno grom spržio.
December 15, 2015
2.5
The Law and the Lady is first Collins's book that I didn't enjoy.
I don't mind the not so well fleshed second characters and I'm ready to ignore all coincidences & lack of reason in characters but this book has not aged well.
However, the main character, while is her time product, is surprisingly strong.
The Law and the Lady is first Collins's book that I didn't enjoy.
I don't mind the not so well fleshed second characters and I'm ready to ignore all coincidences & lack of reason in characters but this book has not aged well.
However, the main character, while is her time product, is surprisingly strong.
February 22, 2013
Quality-wise, it is one of the most ambiguous books I have ever read. You know that it is always easier to follow the plot lines of Wilkie Colliens than any of his contemporaries because Dickens is verbose, Bronte is coldly reserved with the hidden passion inside, and Gaskell is somewhat academic. These contemporaries have distinct styles, and Collins's is the most engaging.
On the other hand, he is also somewhat simplistic and rustic. And if his two most-famous oeuvres, The Woman in White and The Moonstone, contain a certain level of literary sophistication, this one is blatantly and conspicuously sensational. The novel deserves three stars only because it represents an original idea in literature (a mystery novel), at least two of its characters are very tangible and bigger-than-life, and finally, it kept me guessing till the very end.
Valeria, a main heroine, is way too independent for the historical setting of the novel, but her independence succumbs to the overpowering feeling of love. This creates a certain inconsistency for a modern reader, but a woman who was ready to sacrifice her ambitions, desires, and prior commitments was nothing extraordinary in the 19th century. Conversely, her husband, a total pushover, eventually acquires features of a demanding and needy husband, and Valeria is more than happy to indulge him.
Miserrimus Dexter is a true gem in the literary realm of the nineteenth century discourse. He was intentionally created as a bigger-than-life character, but his magnitude is quite inundating - he is a cripple, born without the lower extremities, he is independent, hedonistic, creative, resourceful, and emotionally unstable.
Structure-wise, the novel is the account of the past events, told by Valeria Woodville, but Collins relies on other techniques he has been using in his novels - there are chapters representing the epistolary genre as well as the trial excerpts that solidify the verity of the situation for a potential reader.
On the personal note, I experienced certain technical and anachronistic issues with the book. Because the novel was written at the cusp of the industrial revolution, a reader comes across the technical reality of the Victorian life, namely trains, chemical analysis of a certain letter, wheelchairs, and telegraph. Victorian literature in terms of physical times covers several decades, and it takes a while to incorporate those changes into the image of the world, created by Victorian writers. Most of them lived through the period of drastic changes, and some of their novels do not allude to technical innovations while others, later novels, reflect the ever-changing life they witnessed and portrayed. So every time, the telegraph or any other technical innovation was casually mentioned, my mind went through a certain check, 'Aha! This one was already invented/ discovered/ implemented/ used!'. Oh, well, the pleasures of reading books that take place during the industrial revolution. I am sure our reading descendants will be significantly confused about our time with its turbulent, influential, and reality-shaping inventions.
On the other hand, he is also somewhat simplistic and rustic. And if his two most-famous oeuvres, The Woman in White and The Moonstone, contain a certain level of literary sophistication, this one is blatantly and conspicuously sensational. The novel deserves three stars only because it represents an original idea in literature (a mystery novel), at least two of its characters are very tangible and bigger-than-life, and finally, it kept me guessing till the very end.
Valeria, a main heroine, is way too independent for the historical setting of the novel, but her independence succumbs to the overpowering feeling of love. This creates a certain inconsistency for a modern reader, but a woman who was ready to sacrifice her ambitions, desires, and prior commitments was nothing extraordinary in the 19th century. Conversely, her husband, a total pushover, eventually acquires features of a demanding and needy husband, and Valeria is more than happy to indulge him.
Miserrimus Dexter is a true gem in the literary realm of the nineteenth century discourse. He was intentionally created as a bigger-than-life character, but his magnitude is quite inundating - he is a cripple, born without the lower extremities, he is independent, hedonistic, creative, resourceful, and emotionally unstable.
Structure-wise, the novel is the account of the past events, told by Valeria Woodville, but Collins relies on other techniques he has been using in his novels - there are chapters representing the epistolary genre as well as the trial excerpts that solidify the verity of the situation for a potential reader.
On the personal note, I experienced certain technical and anachronistic issues with the book. Because the novel was written at the cusp of the industrial revolution, a reader comes across the technical reality of the Victorian life, namely trains, chemical analysis of a certain letter, wheelchairs, and telegraph. Victorian literature in terms of physical times covers several decades, and it takes a while to incorporate those changes into the image of the world, created by Victorian writers. Most of them lived through the period of drastic changes, and some of their novels do not allude to technical innovations while others, later novels, reflect the ever-changing life they witnessed and portrayed. So every time, the telegraph or any other technical innovation was casually mentioned, my mind went through a certain check, 'Aha! This one was already invented/ discovered/ implemented/ used!'. Oh, well, the pleasures of reading books that take place during the industrial revolution. I am sure our reading descendants will be significantly confused about our time with its turbulent, influential, and reality-shaping inventions.
May 30, 2013
What would you do for someone you love? How far would you go? Valeria refuses to believe that her new husband could have ever been a murderer and thus sets out to prove his innocence...
March 16, 2023
It's been awhile since I've read Wilkie Collins so I was glad to be able to put him on this challenge season's list. All along I thought this a good blend of sensation fiction and mystery. It might lean heavier on the sensation side, but as I recall one can usually rely on there being a mystery with Wilkie Collins and that is absolutely true in this.
The Lady of the title is Valeria and the story is told in the first person by her. She tells of her life from the time of her marriage to Eustace Woodville through several months later. In the telling, there is a small bit of back story for Valeria and a large bit for Eustace. In fact, it is this large bit for Eustace that is the basis for the mystery. Further on the plot wanders into what I would consider spoiler territory.
Collins does a pretty good job of characterization though he does use a broad brush. Repeating myself, this is sensation fiction! I had forgotten how much more I like Collins' writing than I do Dickens'. Yes, for those who are more used to 21st Century writing, this will feel quite formal, but Collins doesn't take his sentences over a page or two. It is quite easy to follow in that respect.
I'm happy to give this 4-stars and it probably sits in the upper half of that group though not at the top of it.
The Lady of the title is Valeria and the story is told in the first person by her. She tells of her life from the time of her marriage to Eustace Woodville through several months later. In the telling, there is a small bit of back story for Valeria and a large bit for Eustace. In fact, it is this large bit for Eustace that is the basis for the mystery. Further on the plot wanders into what I would consider spoiler territory.
Collins does a pretty good job of characterization though he does use a broad brush. Repeating myself, this is sensation fiction! I had forgotten how much more I like Collins' writing than I do Dickens'. Yes, for those who are more used to 21st Century writing, this will feel quite formal, but Collins doesn't take his sentences over a page or two. It is quite easy to follow in that respect.
I'm happy to give this 4-stars and it probably sits in the upper half of that group though not at the top of it.
December 7, 2021
Probably 3.5 stars?
This book is BANANAS and I'm not ashamed to say that I was riveted. How you get along with it will depend on your tolerance for all of the bourgeois Victorian anxieties that come alive in these sensation novels; in this case, we have the usual fears and prejudices about "otherness" in relation to bodies, disability, and also ideal womanhood. The protagonist being an intelligent, somewhat independent woman is welcome; the embedded notions of femininity and its relation to beauty and a woman's worth, less so!
I found it strange and fascinating. I feel like the book was unintentionally revealing of the middle-class white British Victorian psyche and it was all kinds of amusing, intriguing, and ugly. The mystery's resolution was also wild because of the notions of propriety that govern the conduct of the "good" characters. The men are absurd and the husband is beyond useless. This was a trip.
This book is BANANAS and I'm not ashamed to say that I was riveted. How you get along with it will depend on your tolerance for all of the bourgeois Victorian anxieties that come alive in these sensation novels; in this case, we have the usual fears and prejudices about "otherness" in relation to bodies, disability, and also ideal womanhood. The protagonist being an intelligent, somewhat independent woman is welcome; the embedded notions of femininity and its relation to beauty and a woman's worth, less so!
I found it strange and fascinating. I feel like the book was unintentionally revealing of the middle-class white British Victorian psyche and it was all kinds of amusing, intriguing, and ugly. The mystery's resolution was also wild because of the notions of propriety that govern the conduct of the "good" characters. The men are absurd and the husband is beyond useless. This was a trip.
June 27, 2020
A newly married wife finds her husband has adopted a new name. He lives in shame that he was accused of murdering his previous wife and in his trial a verdict of "not proven" was pronounced. His name and reputation is smeared. When his secret is revealed he flees from his new marriage to allow his wife a chance to live a life without being tainted.
Written in 1875, this book is full of Victorian standards. Class, manners and appearance were critical. Women were to be protected and should never be left in a room alone with a man. People with deformities or mental issues should be locked away.
It was interesting for the narrator to be the new wife. She was a "new-age" woman who refused to obey the rules of the time to prove her husband is innocent. She and her mother-in-law are logical, determined and focused. They made the book.
Written in 1875, this book is full of Victorian standards. Class, manners and appearance were critical. Women were to be protected and should never be left in a room alone with a man. People with deformities or mental issues should be locked away.
It was interesting for the narrator to be the new wife. She was a "new-age" woman who refused to obey the rules of the time to prove her husband is innocent. She and her mother-in-law are logical, determined and focused. They made the book.
June 10, 2016
Perhaps no author can claim such a golden decade of novel writing in the 19C as Wilkie Collins. In the 1860's Collins published The Woman in White (1860), No Name (1862), Armadale (1866) and The Moonstone (1868). There is no more than a flat chance that he could repeat himself, and, indeed, he did not. The Law and the Lady, published in 1875, does not reach the standard of its predecessors of the 1860's; nevertheless, The Law and the Lady is an important book for many reasons and deserves to be recognized more than it currently is.
The novel features a female detective. The character of Miserrimus Dexter is obscenely hideous, the plot intriguing as it rests on a Scotish Verdict of Not Proven. Caught midway between guilt and innocence, Valeria Woodville's husband received this verdict on the charge of murdering his first wife prior to marrying Valeria. Naturally, as any good Victorian novel would have it, Valeria was unaware of her husband's past until after her marriage to him. Through dogged determination and Collins's exploration of early forensic and other investigative techniques Valeria attempts to prove her husband's innocence. A rather bizarre plot, with bizarre twists and turns seems to be the stamp of a Collins novel. Other tropes of Collins are found in the novel as well. Dexter has no legs, and thus we have the character with a disability. There are various nods to other authors and novels. In The Law and the Lady a dust-heap (a nod to Dickens's Our Mutual Friend?) contains the central clue to proving that Valeria's husband is innocent. Dexter's helpmate's name is Ariel and in a grotesque twist of detail one feels the shadow of Shakespeare's The Tempest.
In an interesting commentary prior to the novel Collins includes rules for readers to remember when reading fiction, and I presume, pointedly, his The Law and the Lady. Suspend disbelief, accept the character on the page comments Collins.
This novel does have its weakness, and an editor's pen would have been useful, but that would rob the Victorian nature of this novel. Many will find the ending dissatisfying. Some readers may call "foul" at its seemingly almost dismissive tone. While I would not begin a reading and discovery of Collins with this novel I would not dismiss it either. I think Collins was constantly innovating, pushing boundaries, experimenting and exploring the novel. That he was in the centre of the Sensation Novel craze and credited with being one of the first, if not the first detective writers, would be enough to guarantee anyone's legacy. That he did not rest on his laurels is a testament to the fact that he needs to be read and appreciated more.
The novel features a female detective. The character of Miserrimus Dexter is obscenely hideous, the plot intriguing as it rests on a Scotish Verdict of Not Proven. Caught midway between guilt and innocence, Valeria Woodville's husband received this verdict on the charge of murdering his first wife prior to marrying Valeria. Naturally, as any good Victorian novel would have it, Valeria was unaware of her husband's past until after her marriage to him. Through dogged determination and Collins's exploration of early forensic and other investigative techniques Valeria attempts to prove her husband's innocence. A rather bizarre plot, with bizarre twists and turns seems to be the stamp of a Collins novel. Other tropes of Collins are found in the novel as well. Dexter has no legs, and thus we have the character with a disability. There are various nods to other authors and novels. In The Law and the Lady a dust-heap (a nod to Dickens's Our Mutual Friend?) contains the central clue to proving that Valeria's husband is innocent. Dexter's helpmate's name is Ariel and in a grotesque twist of detail one feels the shadow of Shakespeare's The Tempest.
In an interesting commentary prior to the novel Collins includes rules for readers to remember when reading fiction, and I presume, pointedly, his The Law and the Lady. Suspend disbelief, accept the character on the page comments Collins.
This novel does have its weakness, and an editor's pen would have been useful, but that would rob the Victorian nature of this novel. Many will find the ending dissatisfying. Some readers may call "foul" at its seemingly almost dismissive tone. While I would not begin a reading and discovery of Collins with this novel I would not dismiss it either. I think Collins was constantly innovating, pushing boundaries, experimenting and exploring the novel. That he was in the centre of the Sensation Novel craze and credited with being one of the first, if not the first detective writers, would be enough to guarantee anyone's legacy. That he did not rest on his laurels is a testament to the fact that he needs to be read and appreciated more.
August 21, 2014
Proof once again that there’s more to the Victorian novel than Charles Dickens.
Wilkie Collins’ masterpieces are generally considered to be ‘The Moonstone’ and ‘The Woman in White’. ‘The Law and the Lady’ tends to be overlooked, as is often the case for resolutely genre-specific books, even if, here, the genre itself (detective fiction) was in its infancy and would in many ways grow around these superb foundations. It’s a form of cultural snobbery really, which is a shame because I actually can’t recommend this one highly enough.
The central focus of the story is a brilliantly conceived and executed murder mystery which makes superb use of the incongruous and unfair potential Scottish verdict of “not proven” (as opposed to “guilty” or “not guilty”). We follow a newly-married young woman as discovers her new husband had been put on trial for poisoning his first wife, but that his prosecutors were unable to prove his guilt and so he was forced to continue to bear the shame of everyone’s on-going suspicions. Touchingly, she is convinced of his innocence and sets about proving it, which leads to a series of frequently laugh-out-loud hilarious sections where she has to work with mercurial, eccentric or downright stubborn people in order to re-examine the evidence.
That the lead character, for a book written in the Victorian era, should be a woman, is remarkable in itself. Collins leaves the reader in no doubt about how difficult such a woman may find her campaign to be, and we sympathise with here entirely even if we can’t shake off the suspicion that at least some of her certainties may be a little misplaced. His writing for his heroine is just one of the many ways in which the novel feels curiously modern in tone and outlook – but then, given Collins’ rather unorthodox relations with the opposite sex, he’s better placed than most of his contemporaries to take this approach! Human nature doesn’t change, it seems. And to be brutally honest, I don’t think society’s attitudes have moved on far enough for us to assume that someone in a similar position would find their task any easier in this day and age.
I’m careful not to hand out five-star reviews too often – the book needs to be something really special to earn that – but I can’t not make an exception in this case. If anyone is actually reading these reviews of mine, I urge you to give this one a go.
Wilkie Collins’ masterpieces are generally considered to be ‘The Moonstone’ and ‘The Woman in White’. ‘The Law and the Lady’ tends to be overlooked, as is often the case for resolutely genre-specific books, even if, here, the genre itself (detective fiction) was in its infancy and would in many ways grow around these superb foundations. It’s a form of cultural snobbery really, which is a shame because I actually can’t recommend this one highly enough.
The central focus of the story is a brilliantly conceived and executed murder mystery which makes superb use of the incongruous and unfair potential Scottish verdict of “not proven” (as opposed to “guilty” or “not guilty”). We follow a newly-married young woman as discovers her new husband had been put on trial for poisoning his first wife, but that his prosecutors were unable to prove his guilt and so he was forced to continue to bear the shame of everyone’s on-going suspicions. Touchingly, she is convinced of his innocence and sets about proving it, which leads to a series of frequently laugh-out-loud hilarious sections where she has to work with mercurial, eccentric or downright stubborn people in order to re-examine the evidence.
That the lead character, for a book written in the Victorian era, should be a woman, is remarkable in itself. Collins leaves the reader in no doubt about how difficult such a woman may find her campaign to be, and we sympathise with here entirely even if we can’t shake off the suspicion that at least some of her certainties may be a little misplaced. His writing for his heroine is just one of the many ways in which the novel feels curiously modern in tone and outlook – but then, given Collins’ rather unorthodox relations with the opposite sex, he’s better placed than most of his contemporaries to take this approach! Human nature doesn’t change, it seems. And to be brutally honest, I don’t think society’s attitudes have moved on far enough for us to assume that someone in a similar position would find their task any easier in this day and age.
I’m careful not to hand out five-star reviews too often – the book needs to be something really special to earn that – but I can’t not make an exception in this case. If anyone is actually reading these reviews of mine, I urge you to give this one a go.
August 6, 2022
Wilkie Collins w najwyższej formie. Valeria wychodzi za mąż z miłości, w skromnej uroczystości nie bierze udziału rodzina męża, rzekomo potępiająca jego związek z młodszą i biedniejszą dziewczyną. Kilka dni po ślubie nasza bohaterka spotyka swoją teściową i dowiaduje się, że mąż poślubił ją pod przybranym nazwiskiem. Postanawia rozwikłać tajemnicę jego przeszłości, narażając swoje małżeństwo i dobre imię. Zaczyna śledztwo z prawdziwego zdarzenia. Dostajemy w efekcie: fenomen popularności sprawozdań sądowych w XIX wieku, wiktoriański escape room, dwóch najbardziej ekstrawaganckich dżentelmenów w Londynie, przepis na trufle duszone w burgundzie i szkockie zwyczaje odnośnie kompostowania. Zasadniczo chodzi o stary, dobry trop "czy mój mąż jest mordercą i czy mnie też zabije?". Widać dobrze, że ta powieść to babcia "Rebeki" de Maurier, trochę ugrzeczniona wersja, której jeszcze brakuje wytknięcia wprost, że mąż jest okropnym człowiekiem i że młoda żona jest w pułapce patriarchatu. Wilkie daje swojej bohaterce wiele sprawczości, to ona działa i decyduje, mąż jest w pewnym momencie po prostu pretekstem do jej zabawy w detektywa. Widać, że Valeria to adrenaline junkie, jak większość bohaterek Collinsa, które wychodzą ze swojej roli Anioła Domowego Ogniska, żeby pokazać, iż są bardziej kompetentne niż większość mężczyzn w okolicy. A na pewno bardziej zdeterminowane. W każdym razie, bawiłam się świetnie, nie mogłam się oderwać, pytanie, kto zabił i dlaczego trzymało w napięciu niemal do końca (klasyczna sytuacja, zamknięty dom, jedno wejście do pokoju ofiary, konkretne godziny, kiedy mogło dojść do zbrodni i wszyscy domownicy z okazją i motywem), a w pewnym momencie przeszło gładko od "kto?" do "jak zdobyć zeznanie?". Jeśli ktoś chce poznać się z Wilkie Collinsem, a "Kobieta w bieli" trochę przeraża, "Prawo i dama" to dobre miejsce, żeby zacząć. Jest tu wszystko, w czym Collins celuje: typ bohaterki, fabuła sensacyjno-kryminalna, dziwne postaci drugoplanowe.
April 5, 2017
This sensation novel is the story of Valeria Brinton's quest to prove her husband's innocence. She refuses to resign herself to the 'Scotch Verdict' as her husband and others have done. Acting on her convictions and contrary to her friends advice, she sets out in search of the truth (with help from her old and trusted friend Mr. Benjamin and also from her mother-in- law). Valeria is a strong minded woman and in many respects a character whom people today can relate to. The book, i felt, had more pace than the Moonstone (which i also enjoyed reading) but in terms of the solution, the Moonstone was more imaginative.
(review date 02.02.2010)
(review date 02.02.2010)
May 25, 2023
When Valeria marries Eustace, she discovers that some dark secret has made him marry her under a false name. She meets his mother and finds out his true identity. She appeals to his friends to find out what terrible secret he is hiding. He begs her to leave it alone and warns her that it will only drive them both apart, but she persists and finds that he was accused of a terrible crime and never quite proven innocent. Valeria embarks on a desperate search for evidence that will prove her husband's innocence, and it leads her down a dark path of insanity. In the meantime, her husband, frustrated with her stubbornness, abandons her. She must sift through rumors of suicide, poison, lies, cruelty, and madness to arrive at the truth.
This is more of a sensational thriller than I thought it would be. It definitely has some dark and cruel scenes, especially when Valeria asks for help in her investigations from Mr. Dexter, a man with a disability and a wild imagination. He keeps many curious items of art in his home, which depict atrocities that shock and frighten Valeria. But he is the only one who seems to have the key to this mysterious crime her husband was accused of, so she continues to seek his advice. Eventually Mr. Dexter shows signs of insanity, and Valeria wonders if whatever happened in that dark past has unhinged his reason.
The writing is brilliant, and the mysterious plot keeps the reader guessing through an impenetrable web of clues and red herrings. I was completely immersed in the story, and appalled or delighted with each emotional scene.
The characters are vivid and complex, especially Valeria, our main character. The story is told from her perspective and we get to follow her every step of the way as she blunders her way through the mystery, trying to make sense of the strange facts. The supporting characters are all so different with their own personalities and secrets. It was fascinating to read their dialogue and wonder if they were telling the truth, or hiding something, or whether they were lying to themselves too. There are so many layers of intrigue and personal motivation that made each character an enigma unto themselves.
There are triggers for insanity, institutionalization, suicide, abandonment, and abuse.
This is more of a sensational thriller than I thought it would be. It definitely has some dark and cruel scenes, especially when Valeria asks for help in her investigations from Mr. Dexter, a man with a disability and a wild imagination. He keeps many curious items of art in his home, which depict atrocities that shock and frighten Valeria. But he is the only one who seems to have the key to this mysterious crime her husband was accused of, so she continues to seek his advice. Eventually Mr. Dexter shows signs of insanity, and Valeria wonders if whatever happened in that dark past has unhinged his reason.
The writing is brilliant, and the mysterious plot keeps the reader guessing through an impenetrable web of clues and red herrings. I was completely immersed in the story, and appalled or delighted with each emotional scene.
The characters are vivid and complex, especially Valeria, our main character. The story is told from her perspective and we get to follow her every step of the way as she blunders her way through the mystery, trying to make sense of the strange facts. The supporting characters are all so different with their own personalities and secrets. It was fascinating to read their dialogue and wonder if they were telling the truth, or hiding something, or whether they were lying to themselves too. There are so many layers of intrigue and personal motivation that made each character an enigma unto themselves.
There are triggers for insanity, institutionalization, suicide, abandonment, and abuse.
October 13, 2025
What a wild and fun book full of eccentric characters, a mystery with personal stakes and maybe my favorite protagonist I've read about this year. Valeria is way too good for her husband, who - confronted with his past - just runs away and deserts his wife of a couple of days, meaning to leave her forever according to his melodramatic letter. So, best girl takes matters into her own hand, even knowing its kind of stupid to fight for this man.
It's wonderful, there are so many silly and humorous moments without hurting the story or emotional impact. Some other favorite characters were Dexter - potential prototype for future mad scientist characters - and his cousin and nurse Ariel. While the disability representation could have been handled more delicately, they are so fun, so lovable, so engaging. I urgently need a 90's cartoon series adaptation of Valeria, Dexter and Ariel solving crimes together.
I had hoped for a different ending: It was quite unlike the rest of the book in its tone, but was probably the right one for the time period and such an early mystery. I love this book regardless.
It's wonderful, there are so many silly and humorous moments without hurting the story or emotional impact. Some other favorite characters were Dexter - potential prototype for future mad scientist characters - and his cousin and nurse Ariel. While the disability representation could have been handled more delicately, they are so fun, so lovable, so engaging. I urgently need a 90's cartoon series adaptation of Valeria, Dexter and Ariel solving crimes together.
I had hoped for a different ending: It was quite unlike the rest of the book in its tone, but was probably the right one for the time period and such an early mystery. I love this book regardless.
February 20, 2024
In this early example of a detective story (1875), young Valeria marries Eustace, only to have their momentary bliss marred by the shadow of the past. Eustace is hiding a secret from his new bride, one that Valeria is warned not to uncover. But uncover it she does, and she becomes an amateur sleuth, following hard on the trail of a court case gone cold. Her unearthing of new clues brings her into contact with some very colorful and interesting people along the way. I enjoyed the journey with her, and the ultimate resolution of the knotty case, but never could feel that Eustace was worth the effort expended. Somehow I could not be led to trust him after he misled his bride, and it made it hard to rejoice when the obstacles to their happiness were overcome. Still, the book kept my attention and was a fun read, and I appreciated that a woman detective was quite a novelty at the time this was written.
February 25, 2023
Pubblicato nel 1875 ovvero quindici anni dopo il capolavoro The Woman in White, The Law and the Lady si presenta come una delle opere più rilevanti nella produzione letteraria di Wilkie Collins.
La storia è quella di Valeria, giovane protagonista e unica narratrice, che ancora in preda agli entusiasmi di un matrimonio non imposto, si trova coinvolta in una intricata e oscura vicenda che coinvolge direttamente suo marito Eustace. La sua caparbietà e determinazione la portano a scandagliare attentamente gli atti legali del processo e a sfidare alcuni dei più radicati pregiudizi della società riguardo le donne e la loro impossibilità di addentrarsi in certi ambiti a loro convenzionalmente preclusi, tutto pur di cercare di scoprire l'innocenza di suo marito.
Innocenza che viene, agli occhi del lettore, costantemente messa in discussione fino alla conclusione. Come nelle migliori opere di Collins e della tradizione del mystery novel, il colpevole viene rivelato solo nelle ultime pagine o al limite nei capitoli finali mantenendo così quella suspense che rende la lettura decisamente coinvolgente.
La narrazione prosegue in maniera molto fluida, tanto che la lettura assieme alla protagonista degli atti del processo in cui è coinvolto Eustace, è resa semplice e alla portata anche del lettore 'comune' dell'epoca che poteva non avere alcuna nozione in quel campo.
A differenza di altre opere dello stesso autore, in questo caso il lettore è obbligato a seguire la storia unicamente attraverso la prospettiva dell'unico narratore in prima persona che non esita, di tanto in tanto, a coinvolgerlo direttamente suggerendogli ad esempio di tornare indietro per rileggere alcuni importanti passaggi o addirittura di non farsi idee sbagliate, un narratore potremmo dire piuttosto moralizzante.
Ho trovato particolarmente rilevante la caratterizzazione di uno dei personaggi più coinvolti nella storia, Miserrimus Dexter. Affetto da una grave malformazione fisica e da malattia mentale, la sua disabilità sembra non essere vista del tutto in maniera negativa da parte dell'autore. Anzi, a mio parere, sembra essere proprio questa disabilità a permettergli di accedere ad un mondo piuttosto eccentrico e bizzarro che è quello delle arti, della musica, della pittura e perfino dell'arte culinaria che viene osservato da Dexter in maniera assolutamente originale.
A ben guardare, sembra quasi esserci un parallelo tra l'eccentricità di Dexter e l'ostinazione di Valeria a volte vista da alcuni personaggi (vedi il maggiore o la suocera) come una bambina, incapace di osservare la realtà da un punto di vista razionale. La figura di Valeria sembra quindi, per alcuni aspetti, far da specchio a quella di Dexter.
Significativa è inoltre la maniera in cui Collins affronta e racconta le problematiche all'interno del sistema legale britannico, più precisamente scozzese. A differenza del suo contemporaneo oltre che amico, Charles Dickens, non intende tanto denunciare le falle del sistema ma quanto come la giustizia possa talvolta impattare e sconvolgere completamente la vita delle singole persone coinvolte nelle sue rigide maglie.
Per concludere, The Law and the Lady è, secondo me, una delle opere migliori di Wilkie Collins sia per quanto riguarda la costruzione narrativa sia per quanto riguarda il contenuto nel quale vi sono tematiche sociali e di genere che sarebbe interessante approfondire in seguito.
La storia è quella di Valeria, giovane protagonista e unica narratrice, che ancora in preda agli entusiasmi di un matrimonio non imposto, si trova coinvolta in una intricata e oscura vicenda che coinvolge direttamente suo marito Eustace. La sua caparbietà e determinazione la portano a scandagliare attentamente gli atti legali del processo e a sfidare alcuni dei più radicati pregiudizi della società riguardo le donne e la loro impossibilità di addentrarsi in certi ambiti a loro convenzionalmente preclusi, tutto pur di cercare di scoprire l'innocenza di suo marito.
Innocenza che viene, agli occhi del lettore, costantemente messa in discussione fino alla conclusione. Come nelle migliori opere di Collins e della tradizione del mystery novel, il colpevole viene rivelato solo nelle ultime pagine o al limite nei capitoli finali mantenendo così quella suspense che rende la lettura decisamente coinvolgente.
La narrazione prosegue in maniera molto fluida, tanto che la lettura assieme alla protagonista degli atti del processo in cui è coinvolto Eustace, è resa semplice e alla portata anche del lettore 'comune' dell'epoca che poteva non avere alcuna nozione in quel campo.
A differenza di altre opere dello stesso autore, in questo caso il lettore è obbligato a seguire la storia unicamente attraverso la prospettiva dell'unico narratore in prima persona che non esita, di tanto in tanto, a coinvolgerlo direttamente suggerendogli ad esempio di tornare indietro per rileggere alcuni importanti passaggi o addirittura di non farsi idee sbagliate, un narratore potremmo dire piuttosto moralizzante.
Ho trovato particolarmente rilevante la caratterizzazione di uno dei personaggi più coinvolti nella storia, Miserrimus Dexter. Affetto da una grave malformazione fisica e da malattia mentale, la sua disabilità sembra non essere vista del tutto in maniera negativa da parte dell'autore. Anzi, a mio parere, sembra essere proprio questa disabilità a permettergli di accedere ad un mondo piuttosto eccentrico e bizzarro che è quello delle arti, della musica, della pittura e perfino dell'arte culinaria che viene osservato da Dexter in maniera assolutamente originale.
A ben guardare, sembra quasi esserci un parallelo tra l'eccentricità di Dexter e l'ostinazione di Valeria a volte vista da alcuni personaggi (vedi il maggiore o la suocera) come una bambina, incapace di osservare la realtà da un punto di vista razionale. La figura di Valeria sembra quindi, per alcuni aspetti, far da specchio a quella di Dexter.
Significativa è inoltre la maniera in cui Collins affronta e racconta le problematiche all'interno del sistema legale britannico, più precisamente scozzese. A differenza del suo contemporaneo oltre che amico, Charles Dickens, non intende tanto denunciare le falle del sistema ma quanto come la giustizia possa talvolta impattare e sconvolgere completamente la vita delle singole persone coinvolte nelle sue rigide maglie.
Per concludere, The Law and the Lady è, secondo me, una delle opere migliori di Wilkie Collins sia per quanto riguarda la costruzione narrativa sia per quanto riguarda il contenuto nel quale vi sono tematiche sociali e di genere che sarebbe interessante approfondire in seguito.
December 3, 2011
I am a big fan of Wilkie Collin's work in general. He is certainly the premier writer of "suspense" novels in my opinion, and The Law and the Lady is another example of his usual type of fare. Valeria Woodville discovers her husband has been tried for the murder by poisoning of his first wife, was found "Not proven" in a Scottish court and sets out to prove his innocence of the charge and reassert her husband's good name. Being Collins, there are plenty of twists and turns along the way but it would be wrong to say this is his best work. If you are new to Collins, please start with The Woman in White or The Moonstone, then come to this novel later on as, though it is still an enjoyable read, those other books will show you what a fine writer Collins really was.
I am usually a big fan of Collins's villains as they are general brilliantly written and wonderfully charismatic, for example the wonderful Count Fosco in The Woman in White. I have to say though, I think he over did it a bit in the example in The Law and the Lady. Misserimus Dexter is a little too over the top for modern tastes particularly, given that one of the main features of him is a disfigurement/disability which it is fair to say would be handled much more sensitively by modern writers. The take on Dexter's descent into madness is also not the most politically correct and sensitively handled example you will ever come across. Whilst it is unfair on Collins to blame him for this, given that he is really only reflecting attitudes of the time he was writing, it does make for a little bit of uncomfortable reading now. Still, Dexter as a character is not a text book villain, and does have some redeeming features in which Collins manages to evoke the readers sympathy and round out the character so he is not just a cartoon villain.
Please don't let this put you off the book. If you can suspend your modern sensibilities and read the book for what it is, then it still makes a rollicking good story. I had worked out fairly early on what the answer to the mystery would be - I usually do, so this is no reflection on Collins's abilities at developing suspense - but despite this I still enjoyed this book very much. Valeria is another example of Collins's excellence at creating female characters, an ability which is only rivaled by Trollope in other male writers of the period. She is believed to be the first female detective in a full length novel so was groundbreaking at the time. The structure of the book also appealed to me, with the first part focusing on the reveal to Valeria of her husband's secret, then a mocked up trial transcript where Valeria discovers the facts about the crime, and then her detective work to come to the truth. Some of the later part especially is a bit fanciful to say the least, but if the reader just enjoys the story for what it is then they wont be disappointed.
All in all, not a bad read at all which is well worth picking up for those who are already fans of Collins work.
I am usually a big fan of Collins's villains as they are general brilliantly written and wonderfully charismatic, for example the wonderful Count Fosco in The Woman in White. I have to say though, I think he over did it a bit in the example in The Law and the Lady. Misserimus Dexter is a little too over the top for modern tastes particularly, given that one of the main features of him is a disfigurement/disability which it is fair to say would be handled much more sensitively by modern writers. The take on Dexter's descent into madness is also not the most politically correct and sensitively handled example you will ever come across. Whilst it is unfair on Collins to blame him for this, given that he is really only reflecting attitudes of the time he was writing, it does make for a little bit of uncomfortable reading now. Still, Dexter as a character is not a text book villain, and does have some redeeming features in which Collins manages to evoke the readers sympathy and round out the character so he is not just a cartoon villain.
Please don't let this put you off the book. If you can suspend your modern sensibilities and read the book for what it is, then it still makes a rollicking good story. I had worked out fairly early on what the answer to the mystery would be - I usually do, so this is no reflection on Collins's abilities at developing suspense - but despite this I still enjoyed this book very much. Valeria is another example of Collins's excellence at creating female characters, an ability which is only rivaled by Trollope in other male writers of the period. She is believed to be the first female detective in a full length novel so was groundbreaking at the time. The structure of the book also appealed to me, with the first part focusing on the reveal to Valeria of her husband's secret, then a mocked up trial transcript where Valeria discovers the facts about the crime, and then her detective work to come to the truth. Some of the later part especially is a bit fanciful to say the least, but if the reader just enjoys the story for what it is then they wont be disappointed.
All in all, not a bad read at all which is well worth picking up for those who are already fans of Collins work.
February 6, 2013
Free download available at Gutenberg Project
The audio version can be found at LibriVox
See The Readers Review: Literature from 1800 to 1910 discussion for the reading schedule for this book.
Part I
Feb. 1-7: Chapters 1-14
Part 2
Feb. 8-14: Capaters 15-29
Feb. 15-21: Chapters 30-44
Feb. 22-28: Chapters 45-50
ADDRESSED TO THE READER.
IN offering this book to you, I have no Preface to write. I have only to request that you will bear in mind certain established truths, which occasionally escape your memory when you are reading a work of fiction. Be pleased, then, to remember (First): That the actions of human beings are not invariably governed by the laws of pure reason. (Secondly): That we are by no means always in the habit of bestowing our love on the objects which are the most deserving of it, in the opinions of our friends. (Thirdly and Lastly): That Characters which may not have appeared, and Events which may not have taken place, within the limits of our own individual experience, may nevertheless be perfectly natural Characters and perfectly probable Events, for all that. Having said these few words, I have said all that seems to be necessary at the present time, in presenting my new Story to your notice.
W. C.
LONDON, February 1, 1875.
Wilkie Collins is a master in telling a thrilling story with plenty of suspense and gothic elements. The story is told in a flashback way and the author makes use of the main feminine character as the detective's story: she investigates the Scotch verdict against her husband.
The audio version can be found at LibriVox
See The Readers Review: Literature from 1800 to 1910 discussion for the reading schedule for this book.
Part I
Feb. 1-7: Chapters 1-14
Part 2
Feb. 8-14: Capaters 15-29
Feb. 15-21: Chapters 30-44
Feb. 22-28: Chapters 45-50
ADDRESSED TO THE READER.
IN offering this book to you, I have no Preface to write. I have only to request that you will bear in mind certain established truths, which occasionally escape your memory when you are reading a work of fiction. Be pleased, then, to remember (First): That the actions of human beings are not invariably governed by the laws of pure reason. (Secondly): That we are by no means always in the habit of bestowing our love on the objects which are the most deserving of it, in the opinions of our friends. (Thirdly and Lastly): That Characters which may not have appeared, and Events which may not have taken place, within the limits of our own individual experience, may nevertheless be perfectly natural Characters and perfectly probable Events, for all that. Having said these few words, I have said all that seems to be necessary at the present time, in presenting my new Story to your notice.
W. C.
LONDON, February 1, 1875.
Wilkie Collins is a master in telling a thrilling story with plenty of suspense and gothic elements. The story is told in a flashback way and the author makes use of the main feminine character as the detective's story: she investigates the Scotch verdict against her husband.
January 29, 2015
I found this book to be a great page-turner, and my only complaint would be that while the character of Misserimus Dexter was extremely well filled out, the character of Eustace left me somewhat underwhelmed. He seemed lackluster and spineless to me and that made it slightly less believable that Valeria would go to such lengths to prove him innocent. Maybe if more time had been spent building his strength of character, such as when he married his first wife in order to clear his name, I would have found him more compelling. I would also have liked to see Collins draw out the pity and almost-love that Valeria felt for Dexter a bit more - that would have been interesting. Eustace definitely paled in comparison with Dexter, and was more of a not-present character than a real character. Eustace was needed only to provide a reason for Valeria's determination to solve the mystery. All that said, I thought the overall plot was excellent and I honestly could not wait to pick up the book when I had time to read. I will definitely be reading more Wilkie Collins in the near future. (The Moonstone and The Woman and White already read years ago).
May 7, 2013
The Law and the Lady wears its time period on its (large muttonchop) sleeves. That’s not necessarily a put-down (there were times I relished in how very Victorian this book was), but this book didn’t age particularly well.
Most of the characters weren’t very well fleshed out. Collins relies on caricature to make up most of the secondary characters. We have the thrifty Scottish lawyer; the Dandy; the reliable former retainer; the deformed man who is also possibly deranged; and his Igor-like, oddly attached assistant.
Where Collins is surprisingly refreshing is in his main character: A strong female lead who is willing to fight for her man even though he is a baggage and needs a good kick in the behind.
Although the story was rather predictable and a little slow-going (once again, do we really need to read ALL of the notes of a trial? I am sensing that I am not that patient with this sort of plot device), it was still fun. I’m glad Valeria won in the end. Too bad the prize was Eustace.
Most of the characters weren’t very well fleshed out. Collins relies on caricature to make up most of the secondary characters. We have the thrifty Scottish lawyer; the Dandy; the reliable former retainer; the deformed man who is also possibly deranged; and his Igor-like, oddly attached assistant.
Where Collins is surprisingly refreshing is in his main character: A strong female lead who is willing to fight for her man even though he is a baggage and needs a good kick in the behind.
Although the story was rather predictable and a little slow-going (once again, do we really need to read ALL of the notes of a trial? I am sensing that I am not that patient with this sort of plot device), it was still fun. I’m glad Valeria won in the end. Too bad the prize was Eustace.
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April 2, 2026Valeria Brinton wächst im 19. Jahrhundert als Waise unter Obhut ihres Onkels mit der Überzeugung auf, dass eine Frau ohne Vater, Vormund oder männlichen Mentor eigenständig nicht existieren kann. Nach ihrer Eheschließung im Alter von Anfang 20 mit Eustace Woodville muss sie allerdings entdecken, dass ihr Gatte die Ehe unter falschem Namen geschlossen hat. Eustace Macallan wollte verbergen, dass er in einem Verfahren wegen Mord vor einem schottischen Gericht nur aus Mangel an Beweisen freigesprochen wurde, nicht jedoch für unschuldig erklärt wurde. Valerias Onkel war gegen die Ehe, das Leumundszeugnis, das er über Eustace einholt, fällt allerdings bemerkenswert knapp aus.
Valeria, die im Pastorenhaushalt von Onkel und Tante behütet aufgewachsen ist, will sich mit diesem Freispruch zweiter Klasse nicht zufrieden geben, die Ehre ihres Mannes wiederherstellen und nicht zuletzt ihre eigene Position in der Ehe verbessern. Als Icherzählerin deckt die hartnäckige junge Frau im Prozessbericht Widersprüche in den Zeugenaussagen auf, die weiteres Studium von Dokumenten zur Folge haben, so dass Valeries Recherche mit jedem Schritt komplizierter zu werden scheint. Dass Eustace durch den Tod seiner ersten Frau keinen Vorteil hatte, wurde im Prozess ebenso wenig beachtet wie die Frage, wer eine Gelegenheit zur Tat gehabt hätte.
Valeria zeigt sich als ungewöhnlich kluge Beobachterin, die sich selbst z. B. anhand eines Blicks in den Spiegel beschreibt. Als Leser:in vermutet man relativ schnell, dass sie inzwischen aus der Rolle als abhängiges, behütetes Mündel herausgewachsen ist und rückblickend durchaus kritisch urteilt. Ein selbstkritisches Nachdenken, was sie befähigt, entschlossen gegen die vorherrschenden Rollenzuschreibungen für Frauen zu handeln, kann man dagegen von einer Icherzählerin kaum erwarten. Mit Hilfe von Benjamin, dem treuen Sekretär ihres Vaters, dem damaligen Leumundszeugen und Freund Eustaces Major Fitz-David und dem schrägen Rollstuhlfahrer Mister Dexter entwirrt sie das Verhältnis zwischen Eustace, seiner ersten Frau, die an einer Arsenvergiftung starb, und weiteren Personen. Dabei blickt sie erfrischend kritisch auf das Mentoren-„Unwesen“ am Beispiel Dexters und seiner Opernsängerinnen.
Fazit
Im hochinteressanten Nachwort informiert Stefani Brusberg-Kiermeier, dass Wilkie Collins mit einer der ersten weiblichen Ermittlerinnen im Kriminalroman Gesellschaftskritik übt sowohl am britischen Bildungssystem, das bis dahin Frauen nicht zum Jurastudium zuließ, als auch an einem Ehegesetz, dass Frauen eigenes Vermögen absprach. Mit der Figur des exzentrisch-boshaften stark körperbehinderten Dexter knüpft Wilkie Collins eine Verbindung zu Shakespeare, eine frühe queere Figur mit Hang zum Kochen und Sticken, die offenbar nach ihrer Fasson leben kann, weil sie reich genug ist, um einen Schwung Hauspersonal zu finanzieren.
Eine lohnende Lektüre für geduldige Leser:innen, die sich für die Geschichte des Kriminalromans mit Blick auf weibliche Ermittlerfiguren interessieren.
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Neuübersetzung, eine frühere dreibändige deutsche Ausgabe (1895, Fraktur) ist von A. von Winterfeld übersetzt.
Valeria, die im Pastorenhaushalt von Onkel und Tante behütet aufgewachsen ist, will sich mit diesem Freispruch zweiter Klasse nicht zufrieden geben, die Ehre ihres Mannes wiederherstellen und nicht zuletzt ihre eigene Position in der Ehe verbessern. Als Icherzählerin deckt die hartnäckige junge Frau im Prozessbericht Widersprüche in den Zeugenaussagen auf, die weiteres Studium von Dokumenten zur Folge haben, so dass Valeries Recherche mit jedem Schritt komplizierter zu werden scheint. Dass Eustace durch den Tod seiner ersten Frau keinen Vorteil hatte, wurde im Prozess ebenso wenig beachtet wie die Frage, wer eine Gelegenheit zur Tat gehabt hätte.
Valeria zeigt sich als ungewöhnlich kluge Beobachterin, die sich selbst z. B. anhand eines Blicks in den Spiegel beschreibt. Als Leser:in vermutet man relativ schnell, dass sie inzwischen aus der Rolle als abhängiges, behütetes Mündel herausgewachsen ist und rückblickend durchaus kritisch urteilt. Ein selbstkritisches Nachdenken, was sie befähigt, entschlossen gegen die vorherrschenden Rollenzuschreibungen für Frauen zu handeln, kann man dagegen von einer Icherzählerin kaum erwarten. Mit Hilfe von Benjamin, dem treuen Sekretär ihres Vaters, dem damaligen Leumundszeugen und Freund Eustaces Major Fitz-David und dem schrägen Rollstuhlfahrer Mister Dexter entwirrt sie das Verhältnis zwischen Eustace, seiner ersten Frau, die an einer Arsenvergiftung starb, und weiteren Personen. Dabei blickt sie erfrischend kritisch auf das Mentoren-„Unwesen“ am Beispiel Dexters und seiner Opernsängerinnen.
Fazit
Im hochinteressanten Nachwort informiert Stefani Brusberg-Kiermeier, dass Wilkie Collins mit einer der ersten weiblichen Ermittlerinnen im Kriminalroman Gesellschaftskritik übt sowohl am britischen Bildungssystem, das bis dahin Frauen nicht zum Jurastudium zuließ, als auch an einem Ehegesetz, dass Frauen eigenes Vermögen absprach. Mit der Figur des exzentrisch-boshaften stark körperbehinderten Dexter knüpft Wilkie Collins eine Verbindung zu Shakespeare, eine frühe queere Figur mit Hang zum Kochen und Sticken, die offenbar nach ihrer Fasson leben kann, weil sie reich genug ist, um einen Schwung Hauspersonal zu finanzieren.
Eine lohnende Lektüre für geduldige Leser:innen, die sich für die Geschichte des Kriminalromans mit Blick auf weibliche Ermittlerfiguren interessieren.
---
Neuübersetzung, eine frühere dreibändige deutsche Ausgabe (1895, Fraktur) ist von A. von Winterfeld übersetzt.
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