a short review of the crimson petal and the white
the crimson petal and the white
by michel faber
see, the thing is, i didn't like charles dickens when i had to read him in tenth grade, and i certainly don't like him now.
the crimson petal and the white is a long, long chronicle of the rise of sugar, an ambitious young prostitute in victorian england. pushed by her mother into whoredom at the tender age of 13, sugar nurses a fiery grudge against men. when she meets william rackham, perfume magnate-to-be, she sinks her scaly claws into him as a means to take her out of the london ghetto.
rackham feels such a desire for her that he's spurred to new heights of industry. a heretofore reluctant heir, he finally takes the reins of his father's business and becomes a man of wealth so that he can afford sugar's favors. as sugar resolves not to be cast back into the gutter, she inveigles herself more and more deeply into rackham's life.
oh, and did i mention that rackham has a wife who's going quite insane, la la la? a bedwetting daughter, a religious fanatic brother, a horse-faced reformer, and a raft of annoying friends and servants make up the rest of the cast.
how does it end? well you might ask. i am on page eleven million, yet still several thousand pages from the final scene. will i make it there? let's put it this way: time liked it. the new york times liked it. julie, on the other hand, does not. i meant what i said about dickens; the filth of london during the industrial revolution and the stinking misery of the poor are described with a little too much relish for my delicate sensibilities. i tend to like my reality a little less gritty, thankyouverymuch — i halfway expect my hands to be gummy with soot and semen when i put the book down.
in fact, i'm racing off to wash right now.