Synopsis:
Grim Wolds, England: Winifred Notty arrives at Ensor House prepared to play the perfect governess―she’ll dutifully tutor her charges, Drusilla and Andrew, tell them bedtime stories, and only joke about eating children. But long, listless days spent within the estate’s dreary confines come with an intimate knowledge of the perversions and pathetic preoccupations of the Pounds family―Mr. Pounds can’t keep his eyes off Winifred’s chest, and Mrs. Pounds takes a sickly pleasure in punishing Winifred for her husband’s wandering gaze. Compounded with her disdain for the entitled Pounds children, Winifred finds herself struggling at every turn to stifle the violent compulsions of her past. French tutoring and needlework are one way to pass the time, as is admiring the ugly portraits in the gallery . . . and creeping across the moonlit lawns. . . .
Patience. Winifred must have patience, for Christmas is coming, and she has very special gifts planned for the dear souls of Ensor House. Brimming with sardonic wit and culminating in a shocking conclusion, Victorian Psycho plunges readers into the chilling mind of an iconic new literary psychopath.
Review:
On the one hand, Victorian Psycho is just what it says on the tin. We get a first-person account of a psychopathic young woman in Victorian England who has been hired as a governess in a great house. If the title isn’t enough of a spoiler, the narrative takes no time to establish that Fred is and has long been completely unhinged. There are passing references to past murders, bloody fantasies, and a disturbing propensity to bite things, including the severed calf’s head in the kitchen.
But there’s also a great homage to the novel’s gothic forerunners, with familiar character types, a mystery regarding parentage, as well as romantic scandals, but the novel seems almost entirely uninterested in them because Fred is uninterested in them. The only thing Fred really cares about is unlocking her family secret and murder, and the two go effortlessly hand in hand.
I’d be remiss in discussing Victorian Psycho is I didn’t mention that it is hilarious. The humor may be pitch black (and kind of gross), but it drips from every page. Fred isn’t just a psychopath; she’s also supremely observant, poking fun at the ridiculousness of the upper and lower classes alike. If it weren’t for all of the dead babies, the novel would be a comedy.
As much gory fun as Victorian Psycho is, I was left with a nagging sense that something was missing. The plot goes the only place it can possibly go, and it does so propulsively, and as a character study it’s both fascinating and terrifying, but it doesn’t necessarily add up to much beyond vibes. That said, the vibes are exquisite, and as black comedy, the novel hits page after page, actually leaving me laughing out loud at several passages.
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