A Muderous Relation is too Schmaltzy

A Murderous Relation (releases March 20)

By Deanna Raybourn

Berkley/Penguin Random House, 320 pages

★

Gardeners know that veronica–also known as speedwell or gypsyweed–is a splashy, spiky perennial. Deanna Raybourn’s Veronica Speedwell is also colorful and spiky, if by the second term we mean opinionated, edgy, and unconventional. Those who have followed the adventures of Miss Speedwell also know that she is the half-sister of Prince Albert Victor, heir to the English throne. A Murderous Relation is Book Five of the Veronica Speedwell series and two more are in the works. Alas, if the current book is any indication, that will make three too many. Perhaps it’s time for Raybourn to tuck this franchise into a featherbed, take a cold shower, and move on to new things before her characters steer her more deeply into the realms of contrivance and soft porn.

First, a short overview. Veronica Speedwell is far too independent to want anything to do with the restrictions of royalty, plus she bears a deep grudge against the Royal family for its treatment of her mother. She is more focused on finding the right time to consummate a mutually agreed upon toss in the sack with “Stoker”–Revelstoke Templeton-Vane–her longtime collaborator in crime-solving and evolving object of desire. He too is of noble blood–though his older brother holds both the title of lord and the family estate–but he shares Veronica’s outward contempt for aristocratic airs. (Both, however, move comfortably in upper-class circles and enjoy wealth and fine things.) It comes as little surprise, that neither is enthused when “Wellies,” (Lady Wellingtonia Beauclerk) calls upon them to save “Eddy” (Prince Albert) from a potential scandal. As far as Victoria is concerned, she’d rather work on her butterfly collection and admire Stoker’s “flanks” and bare chest. For his part, Stoker is content to pursue his latest taxidermy project.

As you might expect, though, Veronica and Stoker will eventually agree to postpone the old in-and-out and tackle the task of saving Eddy. The gist of the matter is that the impetuous and randy prince has given a very rare jewel to Madame Aurore, the proprietress of his favorite upper-class knocking shop. If that scandal were to become public, it would sandbag plans for the 23-year-old heir to marry a 16-year-old princess whom his parents (the future King Edward VII and Queen Alexandra) have picked out. Veronica and Stoker are charged with getting Aurore to relinquish the jewel–by hook or crook.

This task will take readers to absurd places. It begins with assembling outlandish costumes to attend a masked ball at Madame Aurore’s house of ill repute. The best that can be said about this is that Raybourn dressed them in ways to maximize the use of purple prose calling attention to body parts. I suppose it’s somewhat refreshing that we get much more of the female gaze than the customary male ogling, but it’s problematic no matter how we shift the focus.

The problems don’t end there. The setting is 1888, the year in which Jack the Ripper is leaving corpses strewn across the section of East London known as Whitechapel. The Ripper makes several anonymous visits to the novel and before we are done, there are grisly murders, a dangerous flight through Whitechapel, a kidnapping, a contrived plot involving Irish nationalism, a reconciliation (of sorts) between Veronica and Eddy, and some serious fender and bumper damage inflicted upon Stoker’s body. But rest assured, delayed carnality is all the sweeter. I wish the same were true of our stretched credulity.

Deanna Rayburn is exceedingly well-versed in Victoriana, including its phrases, fashions, and politics. In A Murderous Relation, however, most of her background seems like showing off. It’s as if she put all her effort into polishing the background baubles while using a paint-by-the-numbers template for the narrative. This Victoria Speedwell perennial is definitely out of season. Call it Jack the Ripper meets bodice ripper.

Rob Weir

* One of the many theories regarding the identity of Jack the Ripper is that he was Prince Albert Victor, though evidence shows that he was not in London at the time. Eddy was nevertheless a controversial rumored to part of a homosexual prostitution ring. This too is widely dismissed, though he had numerous dalliances and failed failed engagements before dying of influenza in 1892 at age 28.