Victorian Voyeurs

When I signed on to take Victorian England, I had the same vision that many did about the era; in my mind, Victorian England was a time of prudishness, as we discussed in class, it was a time when a beautifully crafted table leg was considered too sordid for plain sight and had to be veiled by a lace table cloth. After a few weeks in the class, I soon came to understand that the table leg was an even larger metaphor for Victorian society—something scandalous covered by a prim and proper veil. I also came to understand that the Victorians had a need to pull back that veil and gaze upon something forbidden when they thought that no one was watching. The novels we read over the course of the semester only confirmed the veil over Victorian living and the need of for many to voyeuristically peek under that veil from time to time for a taste of scandal.

All novels are really just a peek under the veil into someone else's fictional though typically conflict-addled life, some novels with more layers of veils than others. Novels delve into the private sphere of their characters lives, and Victorian readers derived pleasure from looking in to these private spheres. For example, in this class, we started with The Jungle Book. In this novel, Kipling lets readers into a jungle setting that not many Victorians would get the chance to see in real life, though this is arguably the most public private sphere that we read about because almost the entire book takes place in the open jungle air. However, for Mowgli, the jungle is a private place, as other humans do not typically come into the jungle and bother him. Kipling lifts the mysterious curtain off of the jungle world and shows Mowgli's personal life and struggles, including Baloo's physical abuse, Mowgli's first tears, and his (thinly veiled) Imperialist attitudes.

Next, we read Water Babies, which took place away from closed doors, as well, but delved into the more private world of the water babies, which many people don't even know exists. Tom leads the reader through his new world and gives them an inside look at what it's like to be a water baby. We then moved on to Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, which also took place away from closed doors but occurred in an even more alien world than the jungle or the water baby realm. Alice's Wonderland is more private even than the water baby world, though, as exists within the constructs of her mind. The fact that she is a stranger in this land and that many of the characters that she meets in Wonderland could characterize her as intrusive gives this novel an Imperialist feel. Alice not only lets readers get a look into her imagination but also leads the reader through Wonderland by forcing herself into the lives of every character she meets, for example, by inviting herself to the Mad Hatter's tea party.

When we read The Time Machine, we were not only taken into the time traveller's home by the narrator and allowed to look at his private invention, but we are also allowed into the futuristic world of the Elois and the Morlocks and led around by the time traveller who explores this world in a similarly intrusive way to Alice's exploration of Wonderland. A similar thing happens in The Coming Race, though this particular narrator is more easily controlled by the Vril, he still manages to shake up their way of life simply by existing with his human flaws. In this story, he reader plays voyeur to a mysterious underground race of people who attempt to live in perfection.

The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde took the class into a new level of voyeurism, as it was the first story that took place primarily behind closed doors. Readers are allowed into the world of Dr. Jekyll, a man with many secrets, and as the story goes on the reader gets full-view of the secrets Jekyll so desperately tries to keep and, in the end, his grisly fate.

The intrusive curiosity of characters like Alice shifts into Victorian suspicion as we move into Edgar Allen Poe's Dupin stories. These characters are no longer just out to explore and experience new worlds but instead are out to examine their worlds under a magnifying glass in order to detect sinister activity. Similar to Jekyll and Hyde, these storied take place largely behind closed doors: one in a house in a very private neighborhood and one in the extremely private bedroom of the Queen. (One story takes place in the outskirts of the city, but we get the least private information in this story, as the mystery is left unsolved.) Next we read the Sherlock Holmes stories, which are very similar to the Dupin stories, except in Sherlock Holmes we get more of the less savory features of the detective, for instance his drug use and his arrogance, which make the stories even more scandalous.

The last book we read, The Suspicions of Mr. Whicher, was the ultimate Victorian voyeur novel. This book combines the elements of the scandal behind-closed-doors detective story with reality, which makes it even more appealing. This story is a full shift into suspicion over curiosity. ("Suspicion" is even in the title!) Kate Summerscale gives readers a look at a real Victorian detective case, which makes the case all the more appealing to readers. The case brings the private sphere of a well-to-do Victorian family with plenty of skeletons in the closet to public view with the murder of their son, Saville. If this book had been available to readers during the Victorian era, I'm sure that it would have been a bestseller. Perhaps because it is still a bestseller today, this proves that we've not completely grown out of this Victorian voyeurism. Though it's no longer forbidden to have a fancy table leg in plain sight, in some ways, this era has even taken voyeurism a step further with reality television. In our time, peeking into the lives of fictional characters simply isn't enough and we must film real people's lives in order to be satisfied.

A Clutter of Thoughts on Victorian England, or at least on the Private/Public .

In Summerscale’s The Suspicions of Mr. Whicher, the most enjoyable part was the details revolving around the crime of the young Francis Saville Kent. It seemed to me that many of her details were trivial to the novel, making it very difficult to read. However, despite the tangents on what Dickens and other novelists had to say, Summerscale did provide a basic detective story that showed the truth behind Victorian life.

To begin, the Kent’s seemed like a perfect family, as there was no sign of any impropriety or abnormality. We are presented with the day to day activities of the family, and are expected to think nothing but good thoughts of the family. Yet, as the story progresses, we learn about Mr. Kent’s first wife who was mentally ill and the desperate attempt for Mr. Kent to keep that part of his life secret as he and his family moved from place to place. It was not until the death of his first wife, that Mr. Kent would not have hide from the true nature of his now dead wife. This becomes an example of how the public and the private life remained separate or at least people tried to keep them separate.

When the class first began, we were asked our opinions on what we thought were characteristics of the Victorian Era. Due to our lack of familiarity, or at least my own lack of familiarity, we found ourselves focusing on the more “proper” characteristics with the frilly dresses and corsets. However, as we continued to read, we found that these proper characteristics seemed to correlate with the “public life” of Victorian England, as we saw many of the main characteristics who had dual natures.
The most obvious example of this would be Dr. Jekyl and Mr. Hyde. While they were both the same person, they both had different personas, one that remained a proper public figure (Dr. Jekyl) and Mr. Hyde, the private and anything but appropriate figure. By the end of the novel, we see that Dr. Jekyl goes as far to kill himself to prevent for the exposure of Hyde’s true identity, and the humiliation that Dr. Jekyl would face from society.

It’s interesting to see that through all of the things we have read, there is some sort of identity crisis that the main character or narrator goes through. There is a sense of belonging that the Victorians wanted within society, and yet at the same time, there was always something hindering the Victorian from fully emerging within the Victorian ideal. We looked at Mowgli who wanted to be a part of the jungle, but could not because of his human characteristics and his human nature. We see Sherlock Holmes, a wonderful detective who has the ability to solve crimes from his pure geniousness and yet he remains a heavy drug user.

What I am eventually getting to is the fact that, no one really seemed to be what they were. It’s a pretty scary thought if you think about because you cannot really trust anyone, or expect them to be whole heartedly good. It is a common battle that we even in today’s society must continue to fight, as we are caught between our own public and private spheres. Every day we take on different personas, as students, teachers, brothers, sisters, employees, boyfriends, girlfriends and etc. But how many of us act the same in every persona that we take?

Fact of Fiction? Fact IS Fiction: The Reviews of Mr. Whicher

Kate Summerscale’s Suspicions of Mr. Whicher is a novel about a true murder that took place during Victorian England. The victim, Saville Kent, was found brutally murdered in the Road Hill outhouse, and the murder soon found a spot on the mystery shelf next to England’s detective fiction. The “Age of Detection” was at its peak, and Scotland Yard’s own detective, Jonathan Whicher, was on the case. The case soon expanded beyond the actual murder scene and into the previously forbidden quarters of the Victorian England household. Detective Whicher uncovered family dysfunction and grudges within the Kent household which led to his accusation of Constance Kent, half-sister to the victim, committing the murder. Whicher’s unspeakable, yet ultimately accurate, accusation led to the public disgrace of his character. Continued criticism of his personal background and skepticism of his talents resulted in Jonathan Whicher’s fall from his place as the “prince of detectives.” It appeared that only the detectives in fiction were allowed to have faults.
I thought Suspicions of Mr. Whicher was a fantastic way to end the semester. The course began with simply opening one’s eyes to the world (or worlds in Mowgli’s case,) which then led to a healthy, childish curiosity (that had good and bad consequences. Alice is a prime example of that!) and finally to curiosity evolving (just like Darwin said!) into detective fiction which largely concerned murders and/or heinous crimes. The Road Hill murder coincidentally happened during the same time detective fiction was becoming popular. This real-life murder transcended into a pseudo-fiction realm, which ended up causing ruin of Victorian England’s greatest, “real” detective. Compared to Holmes, Mr. Whicher was a saint. Aside from his mysterious family issues, Whicher was a nice and clever man who sought to do his job the best he could (and no one, to the best of my knowledge, caught him shooting up cocaine.) He was highly revered before his Road Hill murder case. Jonathan Whicher’s one crime was uncovering secrets that stretched beyond the actual murder. Those sorts of tricks only work for fictional detectives, such as Poe’s Dupin (as seen in “The Mystery of Marie Roget” even though that murder along with its background scandal were also based off of real events.)
The most interesting thing I’ve learned about Victorian England is that those fancy dress-wearing Brits I thought I knew ended up not being so different from modern people. Industrialization, colonization, and evolutionary theory hit Victorian England similarly to what we’re experiencing with “information overload.” Both changes led to an overflow of new ideas about God, nature, humanity, and morality. The Road Hill murder seems like a very, very early ancestor to the reality shows that are (unfortunately) imbedded in modern society. Scientific advances and globalization causes modern people to be very curious and to question everything much like the people of Victorian England. The resurgence of Victorian fiction in theatres also helps to make the connection. Stories such as Alice in Wonderland and Sherlock Holmes are still intriguing tales, though modern people need to see things in HD and in 3D to get a thrill anymore (thanks, technology.) Television shows, such as CSI, follow the trend of murder investigations and forensic science that were started during Victorian England. Although detection has now been around for over 200 years, there is a still a sense of shock when it is applied to actual events. It appears that, even now, fiction cannot prepare us for the shock of real events.



…and to show how smart I am, here is a picture of the spare change I’ve been saving. The jar even counts how much money I’ve saved. So far, I’ve got $56.58…what a smart move!

Review of "The Suspicions of Mr Whicher"

The Suspicions of Mr Whicher have confirmed my—forgive the repetition—suspicions about the nature of Victorian life. The book investigates a brutal 1860 murder of a three-year-old boy, Saville. The child was found in the servant's outhouse, his throat deeply slit. When the local police are unable to figure out who committed the crime, Jonathan Whicher, a brilliant officer and detective from Scotland Yard, is called to solve the case. The man delves into the household of Samuel and Mary Kent, the parents of Saville. What he finds begins to unravel the facade of the time—infidelity, insanity, and general scandal.

With that, I feel that The Suspicions of Mr Whicher epitomizes the Victorian era. In so much of what we have read in class, plots, while seemingly innocent, often run amuck after deeper consideration. For example, The Jungle Books—a children's story—reveal Kipling's bias toward colonialism. Also, in The Coming Race, Lytton emphasized what would become of Victorian society without the art and the humanities. Or, Lewis Carroll portrays the ridiculousness and roundabout circles made in such a culture.

Suspicions, at least for me, summed up the class. I had no idea what was in store when reading this book, and I was pleasantly surprised at how it portrayed and manifested Victorian England. Underneath that prudish mask—which Summerscale rips off with grace and detail—is something innately sinister.

Summerscale: (an irritating) conflation of facts and fiction.

A real murder as the storyline to tell and teach about the increasing Victorian fascination with detection and the “licence” to sleuth other’s privacy – that is the basic idea for Kate Summerscale’s (historical-documentary) novel “The Suspicions of Mr Whicher.” The case is simple and horrifying at once: Francis Saville, youngest son of the Kent family, has brutally been murdered at night, and due to the fact that the house was closed from the inside, the murderer has to be a member of the family or the household. The investigations, however, are quite tricky. Mr Whicher, though one of the original eight Scotland Yard officers, a “figure (…) of mystery and glamour” (Summerscale xxii) has some trouble solving the crime: evidence appears, suddenly disappears, has never been there – and the local police are also working against the detective from London. Whicher eventually arraigns Constance, one of Saville’s half-sisters, but fails as the court does not find her guilty. Not an easy situation for Mr Whicher. But in some sense, his “failure” makes him a more realistic and credible character, and it is refreshing to see that even for a detective, not everything works out so smartly and elegant as it is presented in detective fiction of this time, e.g. Poe’s Dupin stories, or Doyle’s tales about Sherlock Holmes, where the detectives (almost) effortlessly reveal the felony. Summerscale points out that the reality looks different. But here, things get complicated. She tells a real story, but uses it as a guideline to create her own deductive story, almost fictionalizes the facts by withholding information up to the very end, creating artificial suspense which never really turns out to be as thrilling as it might thought to be (provided that Summerscale intended to write some kind of detective story) as the reader pretty soon has a first suspicion – but has to go on for 300 more pages in order to get a confirmation. And even at this moment, the solution entails the feeling that there is still something untold, that there has to be a final, surprising move. Well, there is something, but do not expect too much.
The aspect one always has to remember is: this is a real case. It is not one of these stories which are, how crucial and horrifying they might be, invented, created by someone’s imagination. Saville has been a living human being, and the fact that this child was murdered, even worse: murdered by a close relative, is the real thrilling moment of the story.
It is the insight into the thought-to-be proper- and- prudish Victorian household that opens up a new, intriguing and at the same time disturbing view into what it could mean to live a Victorian life. It is as if the demand and highlighting of the value of privacy almost inevitably has to lead to ‘dark secrets’ and a double-layered morality. The proper façade includes (or perhaps initially creates?) an inner dark side, which finally turns against oneself: the basic idea of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde.
Public investigations and murder cases allow the Victorian citizen to engage in the solution of a crime, to intrude someone else’s privacy without being openly denounced for it. The idea of the Victorian mindset is very well laid out in the text, as well as a sense of the detective scene, language, and genre. However, it is still considered to be a novel (and the smart way the chapters are entitled support this impression). Fiction and reality conflate in an irritating way. The moment I had the feeling that I got into the story, I was disrupted and disoriented by, for example, a reference to a Dickens quote in one of his novels. The reference appeared to be real (real in the sense of factual), whereas the story at hand resembled a fictitious tale. Also, Summerscale claims that history, explicitly the case she re-investigates, shaped or has been the source of inspiration for detective fiction, neglecting that the Dupin stories were published 20 years prior to the Saville-murder. Trying to find out the difference between fiction and non-fiction in this text (which, in the end, claims to be completely non-fiction) is challenging.
In providing the reader with so overwhelmingly detailed and multifarious pieces of information, Summerscale takes over the didactic task of “classical” Victorian tales. But like Alice in Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland gets bored by the textbook without any pictures and is looking for an escape, an escape she finally finds in an alternative, imaginative dream world, the reader of the Summerscale novel might be discouraged from reading on, too (there are pictures and maps in the novel, though). A clearer orientation towards either fiction or non-fiction could have done a lot in order to lead the reader’s expectation to the right way.
But whatever might be criticized with regard to her text and its composition, Summerscale forces us, the 21-century-perspective readers, to confront ourselves with the manifold layers of society and individuals. By presenting the Victorians as being voyeuristic, suspicious and even immoral, she uncovers a world that is not the least as perfect as it first appears and claims to be. And the reader’s longing to unravel all the familial connections in order to get to the solution of the crime mirrors that we are as curious and interested in others’ lives and ‘dark’ secrets as the citizens of England in the 19th century. “Victorian England”, its mindset and ideas, is, despite the historical distance, in fact much more modern and contemporary than it seems to be.



References

Carroll, Lewis. Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. Toronto: Broadview Press Ltd, 200o. Print.
Doyle, Arthur Conan, Sir. Sherlock Holmes. Selected Stories. Oxford, New York: 2008. Print.
Poe, Edgar Allan. Selected Tales. Oxford, New York: Oxford University Press, 1998. Print.
Stevenson, Robert Louis. The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde. Toronto: Broadview Press Ltd., 2005. Print.
Summerscale, Kate. The Suspicions of Mr Whicher. London: Bloomsbury, 2009. Print.

hindsight is 20/20.

From the other texts we've covered in class, The Suspicions of Mr. Whicher would be the baby, if all of them got together. While the other texts are fiction, they offer the framework and principles that are expressed in the Summerscale text. A detective tale, almost in its finest, the text offers the Victorian era and all it stands for in one. In order for a crime to be solved, a family's history must be unveiled. This is a concept that doesn't, and wouldn't, sit well with a family from this time. Besides, who wants their dirty laundry aired for all to see?

Mr. Witcher, in my opinion, is the epitome of proper Victorian detectives. He showcases the skills we saw in Sherlock Holmes and Dupain from the Edgar Allen Poe tales, but brings a more realistic feel. This comes, in my opinion, because he existed. His colleagues consider him the "prince of detectives" and the Prologue is dedicated to previous crimes he's solved. It's as if the author wants to be sure that we understand how qualified our hero is.

The story contained so much detail and I found myself referring back to the list of family members written at the front of the book. This didn't help, so I wrote out my own to establish the relationship between one member to another. I'm not sure if the author was attempting to share so much detail to force us to solve the crime before the resolution is given, but I find it distracting. We cannot all be Sherlock Holmes in understanding and piecing together details to solve a crime.

The text is written from an all-seeing observer's point of view, providing details and hints throughout. The narrator offers the tale knowing the end to the beginning and shares the story in this manner. Obviously, the narrator wants the reader to know what has happened and fills in the details accordingly.

Considering the other texts on the syllabus, there seems to be a growth happening. The class started with children's books, The Jungle Books to Alice's Adventures in Wonderland then on to tales of discovery (comparable to adolescence, a time of growth and learning), The Coming Race and The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. At the end, we've finally reached a grown-up phase, with murder and deceit that only adults can stomach.

Personally, I find this text too long and drawn out for my tastes. Being a product of the 'microwave generation', I prefer tales that are to the point or at least hold my attention for longer than a couple of pages. For anyone interested in following a case from being to end and delving into the past of a Victorian family, then this text may interest you. For me, I'd rather read about Sherlock Holmes and his cocaine addiction.

One last little interesting thing.

Interesting Lewis Carroll poem I StumbleUpon-ed.