The Crimson Petal and the White

There's a great 500-600 page novel in these 900-plus pages. I enjoyed parts of it very much, but in his zeal to mimic the Victorian writers Faber commits the same mistake many of them made in going on and on endlessly. And Faber doesn't have the excuse of getting paid by the word. Pity, because much of this is excellent, but it wears out its welcome, hammering its themes home with relentless, verbose repetitiveness. It could have been great, but falls short due to its author's inability to just stop.

“You have not been here before. You may imagine, from other stories you've read, that you know it well, but those stories flattered you, welcoming you as a friend, treating you as if you belonged. The truth is that you are an alien from another time and another place altogether.”

From the opening lines of the book the narrator takes us in hand as we explore 19th century London. We are following the ascendency of one of her prostitutes by the name of Sugar who finds a sugardaddy(!) in the guise of William Rackham, heir to the Rackham perfume fortune.

This is a huge read that devotes its languorous attention on issues of class, the roles of women in Victorian England specifically prostitutes (at the time there were apparently 1 prostitute for every 12 men), sexual disfunction, thwarted ambition, mercurial circumstance and writerly ambition. I enjoyed the writing and happily settled in for the long haul, content to let Faber lead me through the book.

Without saying anything about it, the ending knocks a star off an otherwise 4 star read.