Skip to main content

Review: Aurora Floyd, by Mary E. Braddon


Pages: 384
Original date of publication: 1863
My copy: 1984 (Virago Modern Classics)
Why I decided to read:
How I acquired my copy: bookshop in Charing Cross Road, London, September 2011

Aurora Floyd is a member of that genre of novels called Victorian sensationalist fiction. Published in the 1860s, sensationalist novels, mostly written by women, addressed the fears that people of that era had and addressed issues such as adultery, bigamy, murder, and other scandalous social issues. Nothing is ever what it seems in a novel like this. This novel has all the classic elements of this brand of novel: a young woman, Aurora Floyd has a deep, dark secret, which leads her to reject marriage proposals from two men (but then accept one). As the story plays out, her secret threatens to come out as well and destroy the life she’s created.

Aurora isn’t your typical Victorian heroine, but given the heroines we seem in fiction these days, she’s pretty much the same as the rest: she’s strong-willed, unfeminine, active, and willing to defy contemporary social issues. She’s not subversive in the way that Lady Audley is; she doesn’t actively try to create a new persona for herself. In the end, despite her so-called unlikeable traits, we come to like her and sympathize with her. Still, Aurora is a fascinating character. Also fascinating are the themes; it’s interesting that she’s the daughter of an actress, because in essence the whole novel is kind of like a stage play, with melodrama and dramatic illusion.

Although the subject matter is tame to our modern sensibilities, it’s important to look at the environment in which they were written. Lady Audley’s Secret was written just before this book; and Ellen Wood’s East Lynne was published at around the same time. The newspaper reviewers of the time were brutal towards writers of sensationalist novels, especially towards what they perceived as moral laxity. “Sensationalist novels as a whole were called into existence to supply the cravings of a diseased appetite,” wrote the Quarterly Review in 1863. Writers of sensationalist fiction poked fun of various aspects of daily life, including conventional marriage (Aurora’s cousin Lucy is an example of such). So its interesting to see how the exposure of the underbelly of Victorian mores, as well as the reaction to it, both say something about the time period in which these books were written.

Comments

skiourophile said…
I keen to read this one, as I loved the other two sensational novels you mention. I'm glad it sounds like a good match to those two.

Popular posts from this blog

Another giveaway

This time, the publicist at WW Norton sent me two copies of The Glass of Time , by Michael Cox--so I'm giving away the second copy. Cox is the author of The Meaning of Night, and this book is the follow-up to that. Leave a comment here to enter to win it! The deadline is next Sunday, 10/5/08.

A giveaway winner, and another giveaway

The winner of the Girl in a Blue Dress contest is... Anna, of Diary of An Eccentric ! My new contest is for a copy of The Shape of Mercy , by Susan Meissner. According to Publisher's Weekly : Meissner's newest novel is potentially life-changing, the kind of inspirational fiction that prompts readers to call up old friends, lost loves or fallen-away family members to tell them that all is forgiven and that life is too short for holding grudges. Achingly romantic, the novel features the legacy of Mercy Hayworth—a young woman convicted during the Salem witch trials—whose words reach out from the past to forever transform the lives of two present-day women. These book lovers—Abigail Boyles, elderly, bitter and frail, and Lauren Lars Durough, wealthy, earnest and young—become unlikely friends, drawn together over the untimely death of Mercy, whose precious diary is all that remains of her too short life. And what a diary! Mercy's words not only beguile but help Abigail and Lars

Six Degrees of Barbara Pym's Novels

This year seems to be The Year of Barbara Pym; I know some of you out there are involved in some kind of a readalong in honor of the 100th year of her birth. I’ve read most of her canon, with only The Sweet Dove Died, Civil to Strangers, An Academic Question, and Crampton Hodnet left to go (sadly). Barbara Pym’s novels feature very similar casts of characters: spinsters, clergymen, retirees, clerks, and anthropologists, with which she had direct experience. So it stands to reason that there would be overlaps in characters between the novels. You can trace that though the publication history of her books and therefore see how Pym onionizes her stories and characters. She adds layers onto layers, adding more details as her books progress. Some Tame Gazelle (1950): Archdeacon Hoccleve makes his first appearance. Excellent Women (1952): Archdeacon Hoccleve gives a sermon that is almost incomprehensible to Mildred Lathbury; Everard Bone understands it, however, and laughs