Wilkie Collins
Список книг автора Wilkie CollinsThe Dead Secret
Wilkie Collins possesses the art of writing plays and stories so as to awaken and sustain the interest of the reader. He can create and work out a plot. It is true that the subject-matter of the plot is generally rather trivial, the characters commonplace, the whole tone and cast of the work conventional and insignificant. But the story, such as it is, has the merit of being neatly and pleasantly told. The author has set himself assiduously to inquire how the materials which he has been able to collect should be strung together, what proportion the several parts should bear to each other, and how the end of the story may be constantly anticipated by introductory hints without its precise character £ divulged. The result of this painstaking industry is that the reader is carried gently on, and is forced to take an interest in the web of circumstance which is spun for his benefit. Few writers give themselves so much trouble. If they have anything to say, they are ordinarily wrapped up in saying it, and trust to the guidance of their own genius to give it expression. If they have nothing to say, they are so happily constituted as not to perceive their own defects. It is, rare to find an author who, without originality, or great powers of any sort, has the gift of seeing how much arrangement and contrivance may do to enhance the value of the little he has to offer. This gift has been sufficient to ensure Mr. Collins a very considerable success, and his novels have been welcomed by the public, which always relishes the treat of small ingenuities, and likes any species of unambitious, intelligible entertainment. Besides, to have the art of narration implies the possession of many good literary qualities. It indicates that sort of good sense and good taste which rejects the superfluous, the incongruous, and the extravagant. It involves the power of putting a mass of detached minute facts into a decisive and appreciable shape. It makes us sure that the writer will keep clear of all that could annoy, weary, or offend us. The 'Dead Secret' is no secret to a numerous class of readers, nor will it long remain a mystery to those who set out in search of it for the first time. Perhaps it is doubtful how far the intentions of a novelist should be impenetrable,—what light should glimmer at the end of his shadowy vistas,–what clues should be afforded to the pilgrims of romance. Of course no one is tempted on by utter darkness, yet in a tale which appeals simply to one element in the imagination—curiosity; it is a proof of defective development if we at once anticipate the catastrophe. The secret is buried (not dead), but its cofin is of crystal.
Hide and Seek
One of the principal characters in Mr. Collins's «Hide and Seek» is an artist; but the writer has not sketched him as labouring in his vocation amid alternations of despair and hope. «The painter in this story,» he says, «only assumes to be a homely study from nature, done by a student who has had more opportunities than most men, out of the profession, of observing what the novelties of artist-life, and the eccentricities of artist-character, are really like, when they are looked at close. It may be necessary to mention this, by way of warning, as I have ventured on the startling novelty, in fiction, of trying to make an artist interesting, without representing him as friendless, consumptive, and penniless, to say nothing of the more daring innovation of attempting to extract some amusement from his character, and yet not exhibiting him as . a speaker of bad English, a reckless contractor of debts, and an utterly irreclaimable sot.» Mr. Collins, has perfectly succeeded in his attempt. Valentine Blyth, the painter, is an enthusiast in his art, but an amiable, rational, sensible, though not strong-minded, man; in fact, a «naturalist,» in his art and out of it; a painter who loves his profession so dearly, and fancies himself so well able to grapple with it at all points, that he hesitates at nothing, whether it be the portrait of a horse, or of a baby in swaddling clothes, a «grand classical landscape with Bacchanalian nymphs,» or «Columbus in sight of the New World.» 'Antonina' and 'Basil' have placed Mr. Collins among the most popular novelists, and «Hide and Seek» will not lessen his reputation, but the contrary. The heroine of the story is a deaf and dumb orphan girl, of great beauty, picked up by Mr. Blyth, from a company of strolling players, taken home by him, and «hidden,» lest she should be found by any chance relatives, as a companion to his invalid wife; in time, however, there comes one to «seek» her; hence the title of the story. The «Madonna» of Mr. Collins is a pure and lovely creation, reminding us of the «Nina» in Bulwer's «Last Days of Pompeii.» The idea of making a young girl, bereft of the powers of speech and hearing, but exquisitely sensitive to that of sight, and able to appreciate all the sources of enjoyment which a true painter feels—to make such an one a helpmate in the studio, as well as the friend and companion of another woman, delicate in mind as feeble in body, was a new and most happy thought; these two characters are touchingly and charmingly described. There are others of a different description; Mr. Zachary Thorpe, who endeavours to force his son to «take kindly to religious teaching» by rendering it irksome and distasteful—how many Mr. Thorpes are there in the world!—and, in consequence, he breaks through all restraint and runs riot. Then there is a strange wild fellow, called Mat, who has travelled into savage regions, lost his scalp in a foray with wild Indians, and comes home from the diggings with his tomahawk, his tobacco-pouch, some bear skins, and his pockets lined with bank-notes. These are the chief personages of Mr. Collins's tale, we shall leave our readers to find out for themselves what they do, and what becomes of them all. The writer's observation of nature, animate and inanimate, and his powers of description, are clear and vigorous; he can be humorous or pathetic, gentle or boisterous; can paint the tastefully ornamented chamber of the bed-ridden invalid and its inmates, or the noisy revelries of the dissipated frequenters of the «Temple of Harmony,» or the peculiarities of a painter's studio, with the hand of a master.
Mr. Wray's Cash Box
A good bookshelf is not complete without this charming little tale. It is founded on what was related to the author as a fact, as to the first obtaining of the well-known cast of the face of Shakespeare, by a stonemason, who was repairing the church at Stratford-on Avon. He was found out, and by the local authorities forthwith threatened with severe penalties; and not knowing how far his deed was culpable, and their threats dangerous, he thought it best to make a hasty retreat from the place with his treasure. It was only for love and admiration of the poet that he had been prompted to procure the memorial for himself, but he was advised afterwards to turn it to profitable account. His casts, neatly mounted on black marble, were soon spread far and wide through England and America. From this fact, or tradition, the story of Mr. Wray and his family is conceived. The title of the story, as of a 'Mysterious Cash-Box," arises from the opening scene, where a pretty and interesting girl comes into a chemist's shop, which is also the branch bank of a little country town. She asks leave to put a written bill in the window, advertising that «Mr. Reuben Wray, pupil of the late celebrated John Kemble, gives lessons on elocution and delivery at two-and-sixpence an hour.» That pupils are prepared for the stage, and various announcements, the long advertisement also sets forth. Speculation was soon afloat in the town of Tidbury-on-the-Marsh, about this Mr. Wray and the fair stranger who had brought the announcement to the bank window. Mr. Dark, one of the partners, had seen one of the gentlemen who lodged at No. 12, with a large cash-box, and it puzzled him how a man with a cash-box needed to give lessons in reading at half-a-crown an hour. The connection between the mask and the mystery may now be guessed. The story is very pleasantly told, and what Mr. Collins calls a slight sketch, is a beautifully-drawn picture of domestic life and quite a tale for an English or American winter fireside.
Basil
Although 'Basil' is a story of today, although all its accidental environments are of the most ordinary character, although the scene is laid in a scarce-finished suburban square (say in Brompton or Camden Town), although some of the personages are nothing more romantic than London linen-drapers, although the whole action of the drama rises out of an every-day omnibus adventure, it is a story remarkable for nothing so much as its intensity – for the powerful excitement which it must produce in every breast, not absolutely containing a mass of stone in place of a human heart. A romance that is are admirable in its very own way.
Rambles Beyond Railways
This volume contains an account of a pedestrian tour by Mr. Collins in Cornwall, a county to which railways had not yet penetrated at his time. Leaving Plymouth behind him, the author, and his artist friend, Mr. Brandling, threaded the county from St. Germains to the Lizard and the Land's-End; visiting the most remarkable places, whether of art or nature, and whether the natural attractions were of the quietly beautiful, the desolate, or the magnificent kind. Mr. Collins, as a pedestrian, was of necessity thrown much among the people; and he has picked up many traits of their character, as well as some curious traditions. There are also matters of a more utilitarian cast, but popularly treated—as a mine, the pilchard fishery, an economical survey of the condition of the poor.
Woman in White, The The
Wilkie Collins' The Woman in White, written in 1859, is considered to be among the first mystery novels and one of the finest examples of the sensation novel, a genre blending realism and gothic romance, and exploring the artificiality of identity. In it, a young protagonist, Walter Hartright, meets a mysterious woman dressed all in white on a London street at midnight. After helping her return home, he learns from police that she has escaped from an asylum. Later, Walter takes a job as an art tutor to two young women, one of whom bears a strong resemblance to the woman in white. Considered to be Collins' finest novel along with The Moonstone.
Memoirs of the Life of William Collins, Esq., R.A.
There is much in this book that will interest the English artist. The story of the painter's life is plainly told – with just enough, scattered here and there, of filial affection and partiality to take it out of the level of ordinary biographies. The journals are rather short, and the correspondence is somewhat scanty, but the matter is generally good, and some of the criticisms will be found both original and suggestive. William Collins, the father of well-known author Wilkie Collins, was born in Great Titchfield Street, London, on the 18th of September 1788. His father was a native of Wicklow – his mother was a Scottish lady, born in the neighbourhood of Edinburgh. «It was a favourite tradition in the family of the painter,» writes his son, «that they were descended from the same stock as the great poet whose name they bore;»—a pleasing belief rendered additionally interesting by some anecdotes.
The Haunted Hotel
"The Haunted Hotel" is a suspenseful and captivating story of a family who has been told of their relative's sudden death whilst on his honeymoon in Italy. Feeling rather suspicious of his new wife, Countess Narona, they decide to set out to Italy themselves to uncover the mystery behind his death. On reaching his palace of residence in Venice which is converted into a hotel after his death each of them starts experiencing something strange and paranormal, and they begin to question whether their relative, Lord Montbarry, really died in the way that have been described to them…
