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People best know British writer George Robert Gissing for his novels, such as New Grub Street (1891), about poverty and hardship.
This English novelist who published twenty-three novels between 1880 and 1903. From his early naturalistic works, he developed into one of the most accomplished realists of the late-Victorian era.
Born to lower-middle-class parents, Gissing went to win a scholarship to Owens College, the present-day University of Manchester. A brilliant student, he excelled at university, winning many coveted prizes, including the Shakespeare prize in 1875. Between 1891 and 1897 (his so-called middle period) he produced his best works, which include New Grub Street, Born in Exile, The Odd Women, In the Year of Jubilee, and The Whirlpool. The middle years of the decade saw his reputation reach new heights: some critics count him alongside George Meredith and Thomas Hardy, the best novelists of his day. He also enjoyed new friendships with fellow writers such as Henry James, and H.G. Wells, and came into contact with many other up-and-coming writers such as Joseph Conrad and Stephen Crane.
I love George Gissing, especially for The Nether World, New Grub Street, Born in Exile, The Odd Women, and The Whirlpool, and in fact there is hardly a book of his I don't find interesting in some way or other. Veranilda, however, could be the exception.
First, it is his only historical novel. Gissing was a seasoned realist who wrote fiction mostly set in and around London, having slowly built up a readership across two decades; readers would therefore have been disappointed with a book set in sixth-century Italy during the reign of Emperor Justinian. Very few readers today will know this period in detail. Edward Gibbon is a good place to start, and Robert C. Browning's Justinian and Theodora will also provide insight, but Gissing's sources were in Latin, German, and French (even a French translation of a German book on fashion of the period), and he likes to show off his, admittedly staggering, erudition. But it makes for a lethargic reading experience. Generally speaking, a novel should wear its research lightly.
Second, the plot is heavy. So, already larded with historical detail from an obscure period, the reader now has to contend with heavy plotting, but little in the way of engaging story. The author's job is to mediate a dense plot in a way that is conducive to pleasure (otherwise, you might as well read non-fiction); for a modern example, see Carter Beats the Devil, also historical fiction with an intricate plot, yet one of the most entertaining books written in the last 20 years.
Third, the central protagonists are dull. We have Basil, who is not particularly intelligent and a member of the elite class (heir to a senator). Gissing's earlier portrayal of upper-class characters was brilliant because it was satirical (Cyrus Redgrave in The Whirlpool, and the Carnabys); here, social satire is not really part of his aim (though the minor character Heliodora, widow of a city prefect and femme fatale, is brilliant). He very unconvincingly falls in love with the title character, who spends most of the novel missing, and is an absolute snooze when she appears. These two protagonists also speak in a ridiculously haughty way throughout "O Basil, I could not live without thee!", "O Veranilda!" Oh, sod off, the pair of you!
Finally, it is unfinished. I would guess that, had Gissing lived, we would have 50-100 more pages, which would at least give you the satisfaction of a rounded-off story. We can hardly blame Gissing for that: he died while writing it. But then, maybe that's why I hate it! For killing one of my favourite writers, the novel deserves more of my scorn.
The edition that I read, by Pierre Coustillas, is actually excellent (an extra star awarded for that), with introduction, notes, the author's own planning notes (showing roughly how the story would have ended), and sources. In his introduction, Coustillas praises the book, as he did everything by Gissing (with the possible exception of The Paying Guest, if memory serves); however, I just cannot bring myself to love such a dull and turgid unfinished novel.