Fingersmith
Posted: Tue Jul 15, 2008 3:26 pm
This was the third novel by Sarah Waters, published in 2002, and went on to win some nice awards. I've been sharing my copy with some folks at work, all of whom are wildly enthusiastic--as am I! Easily the best of Waters' novels (so far), Fingersmith is set in the 1860s. The title is Victorian slang for pickpocket. But it is also a double ententre, given that it is in essence a lesbian love story. But one that might have been written by Charles Dickens or Wilkie Collins.
In essence it is the story of two young women. Both are orphans. Susan Trinder was raised by Mrs. Sucksby, the mother-figure of a band of petty criminals in the heart of London. Maud Lilly was raised by her ferocious (and hateful in oh so many ways) uncle Mr. Lilly in a country estate called Briar. They come together via a plot hatched by a young, dashing conman known as "Gentleman" to steal Maud's inheritance. This involves getting Susan installed as Maud's personal maid. Complications arise when the two girls begin to fall in love.
Do not believe for one instant you've figured out the plot from reading the above. That barely scratches the surface of what is really going on. Many of my friends, like me, can usually tell how stories will end. None of us figured this one out! One came up to me as she finished it and said "I've got about forty pages to go, and I've given up trying to figure out what happens!" She was grinning as she said it.
Make no mistake, it all fits together beautifully. But it has the complexity of real life, especially when it comes to the characters. People do surprising things, but when the surprise passes you find yourself going "Of course!" Likewise virtually every character we meet turns out to have secrets, and not only the secrets themselves but their aftermaths turn out to be intriguingly complex and unexpected.
The novel is in the first person, alternating in long stretches between Susan and Maud's pov. I confess to having a great fondness for that format, not least at seeing how events (sometimes the same events) are described by two different people.
It helps that both Susan and Maud each in turn are exposed to different places and worlds. Their initial impressions, followed by growing awareness, are in fact quite different journeys--fascinating and illuminating.
But at heart what really grabs you are the characters. Susan, whom we first meet, is a career criminal, a curious blend of innocence and ruthlessness, practicality and ignorance. She describes her life as she sees it, and we understand. We feel for her, and for the somewhat gray moral waters in which she dwells. There is something very homely, attractive and yet repulsive, about her environs. In a visceral way, without any preaching, one gets the sense that poverty has shaped the lives of all around her to a degree that when someone proposes paying them well for a kind of criminal act they've never done before--something worse, more diabolical--Susan may hesitate but she can't really come up with a reason not to go along.
Maud is introduced to us twice. First through the eyes of Susan, then through her own narrative. Suffice to say surprises await. Home life at Briar is not nice, and the deeper one delves into it the more soul-destroying it turns out to be. No less than Susan, Maud cannot help but be a child of her past and her environment. But if that were all that was going on, we probably wouldn't care.
What grabs the reader is how both characters are more than the sum of their pasts. As with many fine and even great books what happens to them opens their own eyes as well as that of the reader. They grow, and the experience is anything but fun. What happens, what they do with and to each other, compells and thrills and horrifies as well as delights. Before the final page, these two have each been through a personal apocalypse or two.
Really. I almost cannot recommend this book enough. The BBC miniseries was good, too, with an excellent cast.
In essence it is the story of two young women. Both are orphans. Susan Trinder was raised by Mrs. Sucksby, the mother-figure of a band of petty criminals in the heart of London. Maud Lilly was raised by her ferocious (and hateful in oh so many ways) uncle Mr. Lilly in a country estate called Briar. They come together via a plot hatched by a young, dashing conman known as "Gentleman" to steal Maud's inheritance. This involves getting Susan installed as Maud's personal maid. Complications arise when the two girls begin to fall in love.
Do not believe for one instant you've figured out the plot from reading the above. That barely scratches the surface of what is really going on. Many of my friends, like me, can usually tell how stories will end. None of us figured this one out! One came up to me as she finished it and said "I've got about forty pages to go, and I've given up trying to figure out what happens!" She was grinning as she said it.
Make no mistake, it all fits together beautifully. But it has the complexity of real life, especially when it comes to the characters. People do surprising things, but when the surprise passes you find yourself going "Of course!" Likewise virtually every character we meet turns out to have secrets, and not only the secrets themselves but their aftermaths turn out to be intriguingly complex and unexpected.
The novel is in the first person, alternating in long stretches between Susan and Maud's pov. I confess to having a great fondness for that format, not least at seeing how events (sometimes the same events) are described by two different people.
It helps that both Susan and Maud each in turn are exposed to different places and worlds. Their initial impressions, followed by growing awareness, are in fact quite different journeys--fascinating and illuminating.
But at heart what really grabs you are the characters. Susan, whom we first meet, is a career criminal, a curious blend of innocence and ruthlessness, practicality and ignorance. She describes her life as she sees it, and we understand. We feel for her, and for the somewhat gray moral waters in which she dwells. There is something very homely, attractive and yet repulsive, about her environs. In a visceral way, without any preaching, one gets the sense that poverty has shaped the lives of all around her to a degree that when someone proposes paying them well for a kind of criminal act they've never done before--something worse, more diabolical--Susan may hesitate but she can't really come up with a reason not to go along.
Maud is introduced to us twice. First through the eyes of Susan, then through her own narrative. Suffice to say surprises await. Home life at Briar is not nice, and the deeper one delves into it the more soul-destroying it turns out to be. No less than Susan, Maud cannot help but be a child of her past and her environment. But if that were all that was going on, we probably wouldn't care.
What grabs the reader is how both characters are more than the sum of their pasts. As with many fine and even great books what happens to them opens their own eyes as well as that of the reader. They grow, and the experience is anything but fun. What happens, what they do with and to each other, compells and thrills and horrifies as well as delights. Before the final page, these two have each been through a personal apocalypse or two.
Really. I almost cannot recommend this book enough. The BBC miniseries was good, too, with an excellent cast.