Now that I am no longer working on my thesis (strictly speaking… I am still working on a few minor edits), I finally have the luxury of reading for pleasure. Just reading, without having to rush through a book during a weekend because I really want to get to the end and I know I won’t have time to pick it up again until x number of days. I also have the luxury of being able to browse through the novels section in the university library. No research. No theory. Just a good story.
The first of my literary ‘exploits’ was Sarah Waters’s Fingersmith. Victoriana at its best, Fingersmith is narrated by London petty thief, Susan Trinder, a fingersmith with a kind heart, and Maud Lilly, an heiress who is more than she seems. Told in three parts, Susan and Lilly recount their efforts to destroy one another while taking part in a plot that challenges all that they know about each other and themselves.
Drawn in by the scheming Richard “Gentleman” Rivers, each girl assumes that she is the one with the upper hand, the one who is truly in on the deal. While Susan seeks a small fortune, Maud seeks to escape–from her uncle, his books, and the person she has become. Neither girl realizes that the seemingly sly Gentleman is not in on the whole deal, but is merely the instrument in another’s game.
From the seedy underbelly of London, to the country madhouse, to the gallows, Waters spins a cleverly-crafted mystery that challenges the very notion of identity.
