Kept: A Victorian Mystery

Like another reviewer, I find it difficult to decide whether or not I truly enjoyed this book. Its scholarship was obvious (though either Mr. Taylor or his editor - preferably both - should learn the difference between "further" and "farther") but so much so that one wonders whether Mr. Taylor wrote it as "A Victorian Mystery" (not that there was any mystery in it) or purely as a challenge to himself, or an exercise in writing. Well done, with more than enough plots and counter-plots, all leading up to a somewhat disappointing ending which just seemed to drift away to nothingness.

Though billed as a mystery, British novelist and biographer ("Orwell," "Thackeray") Taylor's atmospheric and literary tale of death, madness, love (well, lust, at least) and skullduggery is more of a classic Victorian gothic melodrama than a mystery. Although the two subject corpses roughly define the boundaries of the narrative, the murderers - if there are any - are not of burning importance. The reader will be more curious about Isabel Ireland, widow of the first corpse, Mr. Henry Ireland, and ward of the second, an eccentric naturalist and recluse, Mr. James Dixey. Isabel, you see, is mad. Or is she? The only thing we know for sure is that she's locked up in Dixey's manor house and has not been seen in public since her husband's death in a riding accident three years earlier, in 1863. The novel opens with a mysterious scene in which two men journey into the Scottish Highlands on a cold April evening and plunge into frigid water to steal two rare bird eggs. Dunbar is the intrepid eggman, Dewar is his luckless assistant. Though both deliver the prize to Dixey, whose study is filled with stuffed birds and beasts and displays of rare eggs, we hardly see Dunbar again (the more interesting of the pair) while Dewar becomes a hapless pawn in a plot not of his making. The novel moves leisurely from scene to scene and character to character, using letters, diary entries, newspaper accounts and criminal depositions as well as anecdotal narrative to tell its wonderfully convoluted story. Through an array of characters, Taylor explores the gradients of Victorian class and character. There's Esther, Dixey's new servant girl, curious about the locked room upstairs and willing to take a chance on a handsome footman and Mr. Crabbe, Henry Ireland's buttoned-up lawyer whose secrets leave him open to the machinations of clever, unscrupulous, daring Mr. Pardew, who schemes a big score for himself and any confederates left alive. There's Mr. Dixey's neighbor clergyman who pines for a better place and a wife to go with it, and the efficient and talented Capt. McTurk, a London police detective with a prodigious memory and tenacity to match. And there are numerous supporting characters, from a witty cameo by George Eliot to the sleazy ministrations of Pardew's assistant, Mr. Grace. What there is not is a main character to latch on to. McTurk might have served, but we don't meet him in person until two thirds of the way through and while there is a narrator, it is an omniscient, authorial voice that makes only a few appearances. While this lack is not a small thing, the novel is so well written, so exuberant and so wonderfully complex, most readers will love it anyway and fans of 19th century literature will relish Taylor's many allusions and homages, acknowledged in a detailed appendix of chapter notes.

After I finished graduate school, I took a lengthy vacation from the works of Charles Dickens, until last year's "Masterpiece Theatre" production of BLEAK HOUSE inspired me to revisit that master of the 19th-century novel. When I picked up D. J. Taylor's new historical mystery KEPT, I was immediately reminded of Dickens's work, with its rich atmosphere, vividly drawn characters and glimpses into the lives of Victorian England's high and mighty and low and seedy alike. Likewise, Taylor's book turns as if on a dime in virtually every chapter, focusing on kitchen maids and heiresses, police investigators and lawyers, even small-time criminals and various other unsavory sorts. The main plot of this richly multi-plotted novel centers on Isabel Ireland, a young widow whose husband Henry died suddenly following a horseriding accident (or perhaps the mysterious circumstances are slightly more sinister...). Rumored to be mad, hidden away in sealed-off rooms of the ominous, eccentric collector Mr. Dixey, Isabel is unreachable by virtually everyone, even her most determined relatives. But, as readers glean from the accounts of dozens of interrelated characters, Isabel --- and her late husband --- are far from forgotten. The reader's efforts in piecing together the evidence of a variety of crimes --- from murder to train robbery (modeled on the Great Train Robbery of 1855) --- are paralleled by those of police captain McTurk, a new breed of law enforcement officer described as both "thorough" and "single-minded." And he'd have to be, too, to wade through the letters, memos, diary entries and narratives that combine to form the text. That's not to say that readers have to pursue the mystery doggedly themselves; in fact, the best way to read KEPT is to just get lost in its world, to allow oneself to become absorbed in these Victorian intrigues and romances, betrayals and secrets --- the mystery will take care of itself. Like many other modern novels based on Victorian characters and themes, KEPT offers today's readers subtle commentaries on Victorian mores even as it delves deeply into its environment. Numerous miscommunications, failed attempts to locate relations (particularly Dixey and Isabel) and unanswered letters underscore the contrast between our own ultra-connected lifestyle and that of the Victorians. Accounts of Isabel's madness, delivered primarily by her husband, doctor and (male) guardian (Isabel herself, when she finally gets to narrate, is genuinely confused about her own sanity), will resonate with anyone who has read THE MADWOMAN IN THE ATTIC or similar feminist critiques. Even the snide commentaries of the egg poachers who stock Dixey's taxidermy collections offer understated remarks on Victorian practices: "'What we're after, there's few enough of them to be had now....But think of it! These might be the last of them in all England. That's worth a ten pound note if ever a thing was.'" Undeniably viewed through a modern lens, KEPT

In 1863, Sergeant Morgan of the Suffolk Constabulary inform the Woodbridge Chronicle and Intelligencer newspaper that thirty-two year old respected gentleman Henry Ireland died when he fell from his horse. Henry's widow Isabel struggles with her loss because her spouse made all the decision involving the estate and their marriage. Her neighbor naturalist James Dixey of isolated Easton Hall offers Isabel some solace and brings her into his home. However, though Isabel initially welcomed having a strong man tell her what to do, she becomes distraught when she begins to believe she is being kept as a trophy just like his stuffed bear and caged raging wolf. Only Isabel's cousin John Carstairs seems to worry about her as he seeks to offer his protection, but cannot find the vanished widow. As Dixey's maid Esther Spalding keeps Isabel somewhat safe, Scotland Yard Police Captain McTurk begins to tie seemingly unconnected dots which include Henry's so called accidental death, the vanished widow, a questionable debt collection service that apparently collects by robbing, and the great train robbery, but who is the mastermind remains murky. This is a superb multifaceted Victorian mystery that cleverly comes together as the various subplots converge on the missing widow. The cast is solid as they bring a Dickensian feel to the complex story line. Creepy Dixey is a fascinating series of contradictions; for instance he claims to be a naturalist but welcomes poachers and takes pleasure in destroying animal eggs so that his collecting the widow is natural for him. Readers will immensely enjoy this one sitting intelligently dark Victorian mystery. Harriet Klausner

With a cast of characters that reveal the many faces of English Victorian society, this thoughtfully wrought novel is a veritable jigsaw puzzle of eccentric personalities, poachers, criminals, Lords and lawyers, con men, damsels in distress and a greedy guardian. Deftly, layer upon layer, each chapter adds a different perspective, the characters ultimately involved in a puzzling mystery and/or an outrageous railroad robbery. An announcement of the death of the wealthy Henry Ireland is followed by another item of interest, albeit three years later, the first death notice closely related to the second, establishing a pertinent time frame in which various people act out their ambitions, curiosities and questionable deeds; meanwhile Ireland's widow, Isabel, remains a person of interest who has not been seen in public since her husband's death and the guardianship of one James Dixey, squire of an estate far removed from the prying eyes of London. Indeed, Easton Hall, remote and imposing, is at the heart of the tale, the enigmatic and reclusive squire a subject of much speculation for his love of the arcane, kennels of wild dogs and stuffed animals in his study, even a pet mouse. Isabel Ireland is Dixey's "guest", thought to be afflicted by a fragile mental condition. The true state of her mind remains impenetrable as long as her doctor, a specialist in matters of the mind, demands his patient be kept from any unnecessary excitement or outside influence. While Isabel languishes in her guardian's care, accessible to no one, not even legitimately inquiring cousins, more subtle machinations are in play, from the criminal element to a high-brow attorney, from opportunistic poachers to the infamous Mr. Pardew, a man of questionable associations. A daring train robbery is planned, connecting the diverse characters, even, by extension, the obscure Dixey, Scotland Yard's Captain McTurk keeping a watchful eye over all. Kept is a decidedly murky Victorian tale, the incremental chapters introducing the many players, much in the way communications were restricted by limited access to one another. Without benefit of modern methods, McTurk works his magic within the framework of society's constrictions, via messages, the gossip of servants, ale house meetings and the usual criminal enterprise, a lawyer hired to pursue an obscure debt, the ramblings of a drugged widow, all part of a vast mosaic of greed and subterfuge. Each character is specific to the plot, including his place in society and particular vulnerability to circumstance. From the well-intentioned kitchen maid, Esther Spaulding, and her opportunistic lover, William Latch, to the ethereal, damaged Mrs. Ireland, Kept is perfectly balanced, its diversity held in check by the convergence of accelerated events and the fickle hand of fate. Luan Gaines/ 2007.