The Meaning of Night: A Confession

Meticulous research on the place and time of this story gives a detailed view of life in Victorian England. I found it often interfered with the flow of the actual story. Too many irrelevant footnotes dragging my attention away from the plot.

The Meaning of Night: A Confession by Michael Cox is one of the more unique books I have read in 2006. On the one hand I was mindful of Poe's Murders in the Rue Morgue in pacing and atmosphere and yet the language and dialog is certainly contemporary. Maybe its the "in the eye of the beholder" thing. At any rate I found the entire novel to be captivating, gripping and worthwhile of my time to read. I was hard pressed to put the book down and managed to read it in almost record time. The premise of the book isn't that original but Cox does manage a clever twist here and there. Edward Glyver is certain that Phoebus Daunt (sounds evil doesn't it) is the source of all his woes; all his misfortunes. Much of the book deals with this tension between Glyver and his nemesis. Richly textured with wonderful characters (Emily, Daunt, and Glyver himself), and the atmosphere of Victorian England (foggy nights and lots of shadows) means that The Meaning of Night is sure to entertain the patient reader. As other reviewers have pointed out, it is a test of reason to find in Edward Glyver a sympathetic character especially when at the beginning of the book he kills an absolutely innocent man just see if he could do it....all in preparing to deal with Daunt. As if this were all, he then goes to Quinn's for an oyster dinner. Though set in Victorian England, this behavior smacks of the type of cold blooded behavior we've become used to in our contemporary literature. Of course, Jack the Ripper manages to shock even us moderns. The Meaning of the Night is a terrific read and in the end all is made clear. Check it out from your local public library if you don't want to buy it. Either way....get your hands on it and read it.

Just read an article in the NYT that said sales are below expectations. That amazes and saddens me. This book is incredible. I do not read many books because I get bored with most of them. (Although I highly recommend The Madonnas of Leningrad.) I love this book and am going to be sorry it ends. Tell your friends to buy a copy--now! (I adore you, Michael Cox! Well done!)

The Meaning of Night: A Confession by Michael Cox is a book I didn't want to like. At nearly 700 pages, I was hoping that the first few chapters would not catch my interest so I could return it to the library. Fortunately or unfortunately depending on how you look at it, the book grabbed me and didn't let me loose until the last page. Edward Glyver, the narrator, begins his tale by confessing to the murder of a complete stranger and then tumbles the reader back through time to explain himself before propelling the reader forward again to the inevitable conclusion. The streets of Victorian London come alive under Cox's descriptions, and Evenwood, the country estate of Glyver's rival, is also beautifully described. The frequent footnotes by the "author" are an interesting addition along the lines of Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell, adding a note of realism to the fiction within. It's hard to know what it true within the story, because of Glyver's unstable character, but it's fascinating reading, and impossible to put down. It's a captivating mix of a Edgar Allen Poe mystery with Jane Austen dialogue. This is great literature at its best.

This is a wonderful, highly stylized work of historical fiction. Those with a penchant for Victorian literature will appreciate this book, as it is written in the style of the period with a great deal of thought given to detail. The book begins as a presentation to the reader by a University of Cambridge Professor of a manuscript discovered in the Cambridge library among some papers. As such, the professor has added many footnotes that serve to illuminate some of the historical and literary allusions and references interspersed throughout the book. This was a literary contrivance that I very much enjoyed, both as a history buff and avid bibliophile. The overall concept is really that of a book within a book. The manuscript purports to be a confession of sorts, as it tells a story of friendship, betrayal, and revenge, revealing a secret that had a profound impact on those whose lives it touched. After reading just the first sentence, I was hooked, as the story begins with a cold-blooded murder. Set in Victorian England, the story is told by an Edward Glyver, who is seeking to avenge himself on Phoebus Rainsford Daunt, a childhood friend whom he met while they were students at Eton. While at Eton, a wrong was done to Edward that would mark him forevermore. The book offers a myriad of interesting characters and relationships that shaped Edward Glyver. The book is also rife with intrigues, coincidences, and secrets that deliciously unfold bit by bit, drawing the reader into the spider web of deceit that surrounds Edward Glyver, deceits that he is discovering and trying to unravel. The forces of good and evil are at work here, but who is good and who is evil is left for the discerning reader to determine, although such a determination is not always so black and white. Peppered with memorable characters, as well as a gripping plot, this is a well-written book that will keep the reader riveted to its pages as the plot thickens. While some of the plot is predictable, despite its twists and turns, I still found myself barely able to put the book down, so I can do nothing less than to highly recommend this immensely readable book.

The publishers seem to have high hopes for this debut novel. If so, I'm glad to endorse their opinion of it and I share their expectations. The story is framed as the account by a murderer of his quest for vengeance on the man who cheated him of his hopes and his rightful heritage. It is set in Victorian England, partly in seedy London, partly in the rural grandeur that surrounds the most venerable English aristocracy. This is a promising formula -- Sherlock Holmes and Dr Jekyll have never lost their fascination. However it takes skill to recreate the atmosphere convincingly in the 21st century, and Michael Cox, biographer and editor of the great ghost-story writer M R James, seems to me never to hit a wrong note. The narrative is tense and eventful, but it's all slightly tongue-in-cheek too (as James himself was), and rightly so. The manuscript purports to have come to light in Cambridge University Library, and there is a preface by a personage entitled the Professor of Post-Authentic Victorian Fiction at that seat of learning, together with footnotes as the story goes along. The Professor hints darkly at 'conscienceless brutality and explicit sexuality', but don't get your hopes too high if that's your kind of thing - what the Professor says is not wrong, but what you will find is not exactly what his phraseology might lead one to expect either. The style of writing is very sure-footed in not overdoing the pastiche-Victorian idiom. It is kept at a nicely-judged level of suggestiveness, but you would never take it for 19th century writing. One incidental benefit of this is that when letters are quoted and Cox goes in for a more explicit attempt at reproducing the Victorian manner of expression the contrast is all the more effective. The plot is very carefully worked out too (Cox seems to have taken 30 years over it). All the threads are picked up, sometimes in surprising ways, and all the hints and leads genuinely lead to something and are not wasted or forgotten. The story-line is complex up to a point, but there is no attempt at bamboozling the reader, and there is a pleasant clarity about the narration that kept me interested and expectant throughout the 600 pages of the work. I found it all very involving I must say - I really cared about the outcome, and the detail is very convincing as well, particularly, for me, the excruciating interview between the narrator and Lord Tansor. As reading for entertainment it is a pretty superior effort. If it took 30 years I don't suppose we can expect a lot more from Michael Cox, but if I see anything else bearing his name on the cover I am going to be prompt in buying it.