As you may recall, I was intrigued by Zadie Smith's New Yorker article about how Charles Dickens kept pushing his way into her new historical novel, The Fraud. So I thought I would read and review The Fraud here, with an emphasis on Dickens's role in it.
I regret to say I could not finish the book. I tried hard, but I couldn't. Smith does have a marvelous way with words, and I thought for a while that would carry me through, but I couldn't deal with her characters -- her clueless William Harrison Ainsworth; his shrill second wife, Sarah; and least of all her point-of-view character, Eliza Touchet.
Eliza is one of those anachronisms so beloved of modern novelists, from YA to literary fiction: a pious Victorian widow who has rough sex indiscriminately with half the people she comes across, without a second thought. I don't think I'm a prude -- I don't require my reading matter to be scrubbed clean of all sexual references -- but I'm weary of this nonsensical trope of characters who treat sex like a handshake, often in direct and yet casual opposition to their era or belief system or any number of other conventions. It's become boilerplate writing, and boilerplate is beneath someone of Smith's talent.
Beyond that, most of her characters didn't seem to like each other or themselves very much, and their author didn't seem to like them either. Spending time with them was becoming emotionally exhausting.
So I gave up on the story. But I did skip ahead a little just to get an idea of how Dickens featured in it, and I thought I'd share a bit of that with you, in lieu of a proper review. The following is an excerpt from the chapter "Dickens is Dead!":
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