By Gyles Brandreth
Touchstone. 398 pp. $24
Reviewed by Elizabeth Fox
In my mind, there are two sides to Oscar Wilde. On the one hand, there's the lighthearted social satirist who gave us grown men fighting over muffins in
The Importance of Being Earnest
. On the other, there's the dark storyteller who served up murder, evil, and a creepy portrait in
The Picture of Dorian Gray
. Dancing around somewhere in between is the man himself - witty and scandalous, alike the darling and the prisoner of Victorian society, living lavishly and dying in poverty. For those who tend to prefer the first version of Wilde - let's call it Oscar Lite - be forewarned: There's little trace of it in Gyles Brandreth's latest,
Oscar Wilde and a Death of No Importance
.
This isn't to say that the novel isn't fun. In fact, it's immensely enjoyable, one of the best in the canon of literary mysteries. It opens with Wilde's discovery of the gruesomely murdered body of Billy Wood, a teenage male prostitute and artist's model, in a small room in London. When Wilde returns to the scene with his real-life friends Arthur Conan Doyle and Robert Sherard, the body and all traces of the murder are gone, save for a small blood spatter on the wall. Without a body, the police are reluctant to pursue the investigation, and Conan Doyle cannot stay to help. Instead, it's up to Wilde, playing Sherlock Holmes to Sherard's Dr. Watson, to solve the mystery himself. The investigation takes them to the seedy underbelly of London, raising questions about religion, homosexuality, and morality - Wilde's and others' - along the way.
Throughout the tale, Brandreth stays impressively true to the facts of his characters' lives, brilliantly using actual people and events to inform his mystery. The smoothness with which he weaves the facts into the story is also impressive, since the historical references never seem forced or unnecessary. The essence of a mystery novel demands that no fact be ignored, and those paying attention to all the details will be rewarded at the clever conclusion.
Considering his subjects - Wilde in particular is one of the more controversial writers in the English language- it is also notable that Brandreth resists judging his characters. Sherard, who narrates the tale (and was a biographer of Wilde), clearly adores Wilde, but readers are allowed to observe him for themselves. By refraining from either idealizing or condemning him, Brandreth allows Wilde's complexities to shine through - generous to a fault yet ultimately selfish, easily flattered but quick to manipulate others, often aloof and distracted, yet always working toward a purpose.
If much of that sounds like a familiar Conan Doyle character, don't be surprised. Sherard himself notes that Wilde is masquerading as Sherlock Holmes. And perhaps the one flaw in Brandreth's work is that it sometimes seems too much like a masquerade. When Wilde surmises Conan Doyle's financial situation, the time of his departure by train, and the date of his wife's birthday from seemingly innocuous possessions and behavior, deja vu starts to set in. When he similarly deduces the new housekeeper's name, origin, religion, and employment, one starts to wonder where the Baker Street Irregulars are (Wilde even has his own similar network of boy spies). For readers who have exhausted all of Conan Doyle's own stories and long for another featuring his famous detective, this will undoubtedly prove a treat. For others, however, it may serve to dilute the otherwise clever originality of Brandreth's story. After all, he's done so well with historical characters, why repeat a fictional one?
This, however, is a small complaint about a work that is by and large wonderful. In creating it, Brandreth, who is also a BBC broadcaster, theater producer, biographer, and past member of Parliament - in addition to being a novelist - only adds to his impressive credentials. Most of the world has already seen
The Importance of Being Earnest
- here we can see something of Oscar Wilde himself.