William Makepeace Thackeray
While in Europe, I decided to tackle this lengthy Victorian classic, which was all the more interesting due to my newfound familiarity with the London landscape and quite different from my previous two reads. This book is a sprawling look at upper-class life in Victorian England and fully delivers on its subtitle as a "novel without a hero[ine]." Thackeray takes several traditional character types and puts them in realistic situations and has them act in realistic ways. The bold, beautiful woman, the subservient wife, the strutting soldier, the faithful friend: they're all present and they are all subsequently exposed as ridiculous stereotypes as they behave normally but are treated with a caustic eye by the author. Thackeray's send-up of upper-class Victorian society is often delightful even for readers relatively unacquainted with the era. Despite its lack of truly likable characters and the narrator's annoying tendency to break into the narrative at ill-chosen points, Vanity Fair is a compelling novel that constructs an interesting, if predictable, narrative around vividly imagined characters who somehow become more than their stereotypical templates.
Despite the insistence of the blurb on my copy of the book, the story of Vanity Fair is based on an ensemble cast sufficiently inter-connected and sufficiently diversified to maintain interest across storylines. The main characters come into contact occasionally, and each time their meeting showcases individual development that persists despite the general predictability of the novel and its plot. Thackeray takes the mundane and the expected and infuses them with life by treating them utterly seriously, a task both helped and hampered by his lively and omniscient narrator. Every now and again the narrator will pop in with a snide remark or observation about a certain character with whom he says he is acquainted; these intrusions, however, become more wearisome than revealing and eventually begin to detract from the overall quality of the book. The narrator himself admits at times that he is long-winded and that his asides are mere distractions; unfortunately, there is often more truth than misplaced humility in these remarks. Regardless, however, the narrator does make shrewd observations and his farewells and gift for foreshadowing help tie together the often vastly separated main narrative threads of the book. It is often easy to get lost in the grand plot of Vanity Fair, and while Thackeray constructs two equally compelling stories centered on two very different women (refreshing in a novel of the time, despite the negative portrayal of these almost-heroines), the balance between them is inconsistent as one story overshadows another for a hundred pages. At times, the book feels like two different novels that happen to contain overlapping characters and a common narrator; while both stories are interesting it is far too easy to get entirely lost in one only to be thrown headfirst into another quite later. One of the stories is effectively abandoned somewhere in the middle of the book, which is a real shame given its promise and unpredictability and intrigue compared to its counterpart, a sparse domestic drama.
With such major plotting flaws, it would be easy to dismiss Vanity Fair, but the novel remains nonetheless compelling. What is most interesting is its adamant refusal to bend the credibility of reality or respond to the whims of those who long for happy endings. Very little about the novel seems contrived, and the text is accessible even today as a portrait of Victorian society. The stereotypical characters reflect the values of their society and are interesting despite, or perhaps because of, their immediate familiarity. What Thackeray lacks in pure originality he makes up for in spunk, both through his straight-faced portrayal of the silliness at the core of Victorian vanity and through several of his leading ladies. The women in the novel are refreshingly independent and powerful, though they must of course operate realistically in a male-centric society. Lower classes are also given a voice as servants are individually distinguished and actually factor into the course of events.
Thackeray is, in a word, accessible. Vanity Fair takes the Victorian novel and criticizes it enough to be refreshing but follows its templates enough to be recognized and useful as a foil for other literature of the period. The book maintains intrigue and interest despite a general feeling that the story is heading in a certain inevitable direction. The characters and situations are fresh and the narrator, though over-present, does provide valuable and often very funny insight. Thackeray takes no prisoners and shows little mercy, dismissing certain silly characters outright and criticizing all of the people in his book. There is no straightforward good or evil, and the ambiguity surrounding his characters is what ultimately makes Vanity Fair succeed and keep its relevance today. The novel paints a realistic and accessible picture of a bygone era with a well-seasoned skeptical eye from within and is an excellent experience for those interested in the Victorian era or societal satire. There is much to learn between the lines of Thackeray's prose as the book overcomes the typical and becomes somehow extraordinary.
Grade: A-
Despite the insistence of the blurb on my copy of the book, the story of Vanity Fair is based on an ensemble cast sufficiently inter-connected and sufficiently diversified to maintain interest across storylines. The main characters come into contact occasionally, and each time their meeting showcases individual development that persists despite the general predictability of the novel and its plot. Thackeray takes the mundane and the expected and infuses them with life by treating them utterly seriously, a task both helped and hampered by his lively and omniscient narrator. Every now and again the narrator will pop in with a snide remark or observation about a certain character with whom he says he is acquainted; these intrusions, however, become more wearisome than revealing and eventually begin to detract from the overall quality of the book. The narrator himself admits at times that he is long-winded and that his asides are mere distractions; unfortunately, there is often more truth than misplaced humility in these remarks. Regardless, however, the narrator does make shrewd observations and his farewells and gift for foreshadowing help tie together the often vastly separated main narrative threads of the book. It is often easy to get lost in the grand plot of Vanity Fair, and while Thackeray constructs two equally compelling stories centered on two very different women (refreshing in a novel of the time, despite the negative portrayal of these almost-heroines), the balance between them is inconsistent as one story overshadows another for a hundred pages. At times, the book feels like two different novels that happen to contain overlapping characters and a common narrator; while both stories are interesting it is far too easy to get entirely lost in one only to be thrown headfirst into another quite later. One of the stories is effectively abandoned somewhere in the middle of the book, which is a real shame given its promise and unpredictability and intrigue compared to its counterpart, a sparse domestic drama.
With such major plotting flaws, it would be easy to dismiss Vanity Fair, but the novel remains nonetheless compelling. What is most interesting is its adamant refusal to bend the credibility of reality or respond to the whims of those who long for happy endings. Very little about the novel seems contrived, and the text is accessible even today as a portrait of Victorian society. The stereotypical characters reflect the values of their society and are interesting despite, or perhaps because of, their immediate familiarity. What Thackeray lacks in pure originality he makes up for in spunk, both through his straight-faced portrayal of the silliness at the core of Victorian vanity and through several of his leading ladies. The women in the novel are refreshingly independent and powerful, though they must of course operate realistically in a male-centric society. Lower classes are also given a voice as servants are individually distinguished and actually factor into the course of events.
Thackeray is, in a word, accessible. Vanity Fair takes the Victorian novel and criticizes it enough to be refreshing but follows its templates enough to be recognized and useful as a foil for other literature of the period. The book maintains intrigue and interest despite a general feeling that the story is heading in a certain inevitable direction. The characters and situations are fresh and the narrator, though over-present, does provide valuable and often very funny insight. Thackeray takes no prisoners and shows little mercy, dismissing certain silly characters outright and criticizing all of the people in his book. There is no straightforward good or evil, and the ambiguity surrounding his characters is what ultimately makes Vanity Fair succeed and keep its relevance today. The novel paints a realistic and accessible picture of a bygone era with a well-seasoned skeptical eye from within and is an excellent experience for those interested in the Victorian era or societal satire. There is much to learn between the lines of Thackeray's prose as the book overcomes the typical and becomes somehow extraordinary.
Grade: A-
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