Hardcover, 395 pages Published 2007 (originally 1871) Borrowed from the library Read February 2019 |
"You can't explain, or deny it—I am to infer that," persisted Antomarchi; "you can't."This incredibly dull novel focuses on a young woman who is wrongfully committed to a mental asylum (as the Victorians were always worried about); I read it as part of my project on Victorian scientists, curious about Doctor Antomarchi, the overseer of the asylum. Antomarchi might write some of the best papers in scientific journals (179), but he doesn't do much science-y stuff on the page. Mostly he's a malevolent mesmerist, as in the above passage, where he won't let our young hero say that she's not really suicidal, thanks to the malign power of his gaze. The actual asylum part is interesting, but it's just the last hundred pages or so in a four-hundred-page novel. Nothing that interesting happens prior to that; just people dancing and arguing. Not worth it at all.
"I can't—can I?—I can't—oh! what is it?—I feel so strangely." She shook her ears as if a fly was humming at them, and lifted her pretty fingers towards her temple vaguely. (344-45)
(The introduction to my Valancourt edition is weird, spending dozens of pages telling you about Irish political history before it even gets to the novel. Establish a context for me to care before you begin going on about this! I tuned out long before she made any kind of claims about why knowing Irish political history would enhance my interpretation of the novel.)
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