‘He lay there helpless in his bed, he who had been monster to my mouse.�
When Adelaide’s elderly and abusive husband suffers a stroke while beating her, she is forced out of her sheltered Victorian existence out of necessity. It doesn’t take long for her to revel in her newfound freedom and responsibilities. As her husband lays in his bed, putrefying and fading, taking his time to die with as little dignity as possible, Adelaide begins to reflect upon her current circumstances as a woman without means, for her husband’s will sees her living in poverty and dependence. Adelaide’s reflections begin to encompass the other women she is surrounded by, both in family and in servitude, and her realisation that they are all more alike within this patriarchal society than different propels her to begin writing, at first as a means of therapy and reflection, but also, over time, as a means of supporting herself.
Adelaide’s increasing responsibility towards running her household in the absence of her husband sees her jaunting about London, discovering and experiencing, growing into her own self. But on one fateful day, she and her maid, Sobriety, intercede on what they believe to be a crime. And thus begins the real journey for Adelaide, as she meets a chain of people and takes part in a series of events that all stem from this one supposedly good deed. Everything from here on in begins and ends with a nameless girl. And therein lies the beating heart of this story, for whatÌýdoes any VictorianÌýwoman â€� regardless of class –ÌýbecomeÌýonce she is stripped of her name?
‘The world, I thought, like Messrs Hadley and Farquharson, bedecked itself, scented itself, and congratulated itself upon its success, and yet on a fine day would sweep past the huddled urchins of the street, or on a cold and howling day might stop to kick the unfortunate in order to hear their very bones snap. I turned toward the window and fancied there must be frost outside, for my breath was faintly misting in the near-dark. I blew gently, as I used to when a girl, and imagined the ragged cloud of my breath merged with the cold stillness of the room. And who is Mr Hadley? I wiped away the tear. Is he akin to Mr Farquharson, with his every word a falsehood, his home but walls around grim secrets he keeps even from his family?�
I urge you not to judge this novel by its cover. It’s not particularly appealing, which is a real shame, because the story it contains is quite excellent. It’s written as though it were a 19th century classic, the words elegantly strung together to create an authentically rendered Victorian atmosphere, precariously balanced between grim and decadent. Adelaide is a bold young woman, emerging from her gilded cage with intelligence and insight. Her observations on the oppression of her fellow women and the masculine toxicity of her withering husband are sharp and on point. What Empty Things Are These is a powerful story of female emancipation, and I highly recommend it.
‘There were times, many times, when an anchor of some sort would be of enormous use, for my world swung about and changed so that I felt I had no purchase on it, no firm grip at all. I let myself sink into the warmth, watched the hectic flames, placed a marker in the book and closed it, drew my shawl close at a smattering against the windowpane. We were alone, yet the chaotic dance of light and shadow across the walls and ceiling might imply, if one were so minded, that this was not so. As if, I thought, a conclave of spirits fidgeted and played. I allowed myself to consider it.�
Thanks is extended toÌýRegal House Publishing for providing me with a copy of What Empty Things Are These for review.
As soon as Adelaide Hadley finds herself in want of a bookmark, you will be rooting for her. Domestic crisis or no, her page of Wilkie Collins must be bookmarked! I sometimes wonder how the plucky heroines of historical fiction get to be so, well, plucky. Most of them seem cursed with pluckiness upon conception. But not Adelaide. She has to earn her pluck. She has to earn it and work at it, and let me tell you it is hard—especially in nineteenth-century London, where women of every class are expected to be virtually incapable of discerning their own priorities, let alone making decisions or (heaven forbid) reading and writing. To decide even to attempt such unfeminine faux pas requires a resolve that Adelaide must struggle to sow within herself and nurture, having been stifled all her life not just by patriarchal society, but also by violence and a loveless domestic life; belittled even by her son, imprisoned in needlework and heavy furniture, confined by hoops and veils and crinoline that barely allow her to move. In beautiful and subtle prose, J.L. Crozier weaves portraits of Victorian women of all stripes—from wealthy wives in gilded cages to servants, street urchins, and spiritualists—together in a dark tapestry as seen through Adelaide’s eyes while she herself, marginalized and powerless, dreams of independence.
In this debut novel by Judy Crozier, set in Victorian London, a woman finds her life opening up with possibilities after her husband falls seriously ill and drifts towards death.
Adelaide has always done what was expected of her. After a brief time as a debutante she is abruptly married off to George, a friend of her father’s. He is much older, authoritarian and lacking in any warmth.
In her loneliness she forms a friendship with Sobriety, a maid in the household. George’s illness necessitates decisions and engagement with the world and gradually Adelaide becomes cognisant of her own strengths and talents. She takes up writing and is paid for it, and she and Sobriety become embroiled in a police case involving a street urchin, a baby and a swindler. Adelaide realises her own plight, that of Sobriety and the underclass of people who inhabit the city. Most importantly, she questions the limitations placed on women.
One of the ideas raised in the book is the role of ignorance in oppression and tyranny. That once the oppressed are aware of their unjust situation, there is more chance of them liberating themselves.
This is an astute book, which tells a story of personal growth but also made me think about power and inequality. Recommended reading.
Adelaide Hadley is a subservient Victorian wife, married to a man she doesn’t love in a “business arrangement.� When her husband suffers a stroke while caning her, it releases her and her maid, Sobriety from a life of oppression. But this is not a given. It is something that Adelaide has to work at, in the face of unsupportive relatives, a self-indulgent son, and a society that isn’t quite ready to see women as creatures of autonomy.
J.L. Crozier elegantly introduces and develops her character. The writing is delicious, and Adelaide’s growth is palpable. This is a character you can really root for. The storyline unfolds with interest as Adelaide and her maid Sobriety form a friendship and try to do right by the poor unfortunates around them.
I recommend this book for anyone who loves Victorian literature. The voice of the story almost flawlessly mimics the authentic Victorian voice of the century-old language. The book transports the reader to a time of rustling skirts, curtained and draped living quarters and the Victorian city, teeming with poor unfortunates and shady goings-on.
In her novel, What Empty Things Are These, Judy L. Crozier makes a statement about social issues of the 1800s with a young woman who is forced by circumstance to develop a backbone.
It has been said that the more things change, the more they stay the same. Nothing could be truer than patriarchal treatment of women over the centuries, and the way the upper classes often treat what they see as the lower classes, especially women of the lower classes. What Empty Things Are These exposes this, yet again.
After a childhood of sexual abuse, Adelaide Broom is forced by her father into a loveless marriage to her father’s close business friend, George Hadley. She lives in luxury with her abusive and domineering husband who she calls Mr. Hadley. When she dares to read a book that does not meet his approval, he begins to beat her � again. It seems the universe has intervened because, in his extreme anger, he has a stroke. Adelaide feels at once joyful and guilty for her feelings of joy. As he lingers helplessly in bed, and at her mercy, she takes good care of him, but anxiously awaits the day she will be free.
When George finally dies, Adelaide learns she has been left all but penniless. She soon realizes she is as helpless as Sobriety, her lady’s maid. Together, these two set out to even the score for women in Victorian London.
Fabulously wealthy men draw other men into financial fraud schemes, leading them to ruin, just as today. Those same wealthy men prey on widowed women. Adelaide finds herself contemplating how much of business practices are sleight of hand or trickery. Again, sounds much like today.
When she decides to seek publication for her writings, she submits them under the name of “A. Hadley� knowing they would be disregarded as the ramblings of a woman, if her full name were to be used. Has Adelaide become a brave and spunky woman ahead of her time, or has she become “an unwomanly meddler in men’s affairs�? That’s for you to decide.
What Empty Things Are These is a wonderful story of historical fiction, but is told in the cumbersome language of 1860s London. There is far too much description for my taste, but the history, as well as the strength of character of these women is there.
What Makes This Book Reviewer Grumpy?
� Consistently using “further� instead of “farther� � they are not interchangeable; � misplacement of the word “only� within sentences; � split infinitives; � missing commas.
An incredible journey back in time to Victorian England.
Readers of this captivating historical novel are taken by its author, J. L. Crozier, on an incredible journey back in time to Victorian England. With a fascination with English history, the author as a Masters in Creative Writing from Melbourne University, and has also won awards for short stories. Born in Malaya, after having lived in south-east Asia, Burma, Vietnam, and Australia, she now lives in France with her sons.
The time is 1860, and young Adelaide Broom is like other girls of her era, shy, yet dreaming of romance and the handsome young men who she meets and dances with, whilst being carefully chaperoned. However, she soon discovers that her fate has already been decided, she is to marry the elderly, respectable friend of her fathers, George Hadley. In this strict period of history she does her duty, yet, inside she has a spirit which is expressed in her secret writing, a pastime which allows her to pour out her feelings, and observations, unrestrained.
It is Mr Collins’s sensational (at the time) novel, The Woman in White, which is to lead to her husband’s undoing. Arriving home and furious at finding her reading something he considers so unsuitable he, as husbands had the right to do at that time, beats her. Ironically, it is this action which causes him to suffer an apoplectic fit, which results in him becoming comatose.
Suddenly the household is very different, and Adelaide has to learn to adjust to the changes in her circumstances. Now, with the support of her Ladies Maid Sobriety, this young wife and mother must manage everything, and keep up appearances, not only for herself, but also her eight year old son Toby.
However, as her horizons expands, she soon discovers the flip side to the perfect world she has grown up in. This is the one which lies beneath the silver and damask of the drawing room, and instead lives in the shadows and tunnels below London. In this world which reeks of deception, greed and treachery, her naivety is cruelly stripped away from her�
This story is more than a story, it’s a real experience! Through the authors vividly descriptive writing the reader finds themselves in Adelaide’s shoes, and the pages just come alive!
Beautifully written, wonderfully detailed and entertaining, I highly recommend this outstanding story to lovers of historical fiction.
For a start the voice was excellent. It felt written by a woman of that period. Totally transported me back into the past and dealt with important social issues without being heavy-handed or preachy. I think the risk with period novels is sometimes they can sound a little Mills and Booney, but given the story starts with a scene of domestic violence, you gather straight away that you are not dealing with a light, frothy historical romance. It feels accurate, and the attention to detail is excellent. But the thing I liked best was the underlying humour. Some of the character descriptions made me laugh out loud. They were so vivid and true and many turns of phrase were positively beautiful. I can't stress how much I enjoyed it. I will read it again and I look forward to more books about this heroine in the future. Actually, probably anything this author writes will be worth reading.
Exercised brain and emotions in equal measures. With language sometimes as elaborate and impenetrable as the Victorian clothing and rituals it describes, it took a while to get into, but once the layers were peeled back and the thrust of the plot grasped, the commitment to our heroine and her plight was complete and the story tore along. Fabulous descriptive flights flesh out matters in a way that would make the Victorians themselves blush, allowing us to get close to Adelaide and Sobriety and resent the stiff upper class lips, the odious lawyers and ineffectual doctors, the frigid children and the social mores conspiring to hold the women down. A really different, interesting book, my stand out of the year and strongly recommended as a rip roaring read with socio-historical fringe benefits.
Loved everything about this debut novel which fairly skips along with plenty of surprises. We’re there in the 19th century with the narrator Adelaide and her eminently readable account of her life: from the first pages, when her husband has a stroke � just as (and no doubt because) he is beating her for what is the umpteenth time � through all the changes that must then ensue in her own life and that of her ladies� maid, another victim. Crozier’s knowledge of the Victorian era is huge but unobtrusive. Her feminism too is subtle rather than shrill as her narrator blossoms rapidly but modestly. Loved the reading and writing subplot too! A great read that I could also see as a movie�