Why you might want to read The Mystery of Edwin Drood without knowing it
It kicks off the subject of my third novel. But I avoided Charles Dickens's The Mystery of Edwin Drood for a long time. So many Dickens novels, so little time, and few people volunteer it as the Dickens “you have to read.” Since Dickens died in the middle of writing it, it falls into the category of the unfinished work that leaves you hanging: Lesley Castle by Austen, The Last Tycoon by Fitzgerald, The Buccaneers by Edith Wharton, to name a few.
Reading an unfinished book means taking on a project. If you're anything like me, it leads you to a stack of other reading that loads you down with increasingly esoteric substitutions for an actual conclusion. The Mystery of Edwin Drood was reportedly the most written-about book in the English language at one point. Who has time for another obsession?
Without giving anything away to those still in the avoidance stage, readers of The Mystery of Edwin Drood divide into two camps: the survivalists who think Edwin Drood lives beyond his uncle John Jasper's attempt on his life, and the traditionalists who believe Edwin dies. In support of the theories, readers point to clues in the original illustrations, the book's chapter headings, Dickens's working notes for the novel and his discarded ideas for the title.
Dickens knew well what questions he was setting us up to ask. Cloisterham, the novel's fictional town, was (writes Dickens's narrator) “pretty equally divided in opinion whether John Jasper's beloved nephew had been rolled by his passionate rival treacherously, or in an open struggle; or had, for his own purposes, spirited himself away.” Surely, the big reveal could not simply have been to pick one of these two choices we already know about, or could it? Ask me at your peril. I'm so indecisive I have trouble choosing from a restaurant menu even as a vegetarian when there are often only one or two choices.
One reason The Mystery of Edwin Drood is important and unique today is related to the way it was first published in the summer of 1870. At the start of each month, readers would line up to purchase the latest installment of Dickens's novel. Families and friends would discuss and debate what might happen next—would even write letters to Dickens with ideas or complaints. The story unfolded around them in real time as part of their lives (more on serial writing). I call my novel The Last Dickens not only because it's about his final book, but also because there will never be another Charles Dickens.
I like to think of The Mystery of Edwin Drood as the last nineteenth century novel. Not literally. But in it we have the strange combination of a Dickens novel with all its multiple strands of story lines waiting for resolution, and the very postmodern lack of the desired resolution.
My characters in The Last Dickens are driven to commit both brave and evil deeds by trying to find out how The Mystery of Edwin Drood was meant to end. But I don't try to dictate on the subject. In fact, alongside our paperback release of the novel from Random House, Modern Library is releasing a new edition of The Mystery of Edwin Drood which I edited. I'd previously convinced them to let me edit similar companion editions for my other novels: a companion edition for The Dante Club, a companion edition for The Poe Shadow and a companion edition for The Last Dickens.
A special feature of our new edition is the inclusion of a previously out-of-print transcript of a mock trial about The Mystery of Edwin Drood's true ending, presided over by G. K. Chesterston and including George Bernard Shaw as head juror! It's a hoot, besides being enlightening.
People ask me how The Mystery of Edwin Drood was really supposed to end, as if I'd hold back if I had found the secret (I get the same question about Poe's death). Here is my answer: I happen to think Dickens himself was still deciding how the story would come out when he died—a luxury of the serially published author—but if I'm wrong, it's possible we'll one day find evidence of his plan for its ending. That might be a shame.
Besides the mock trial, other writers have tried their hand at writing a new ending to The Mystery of Edwin Drood as well as other unfinished books.
What do you think: should we try to recreate missing endings to books, or let them stand on their own?
Reading an unfinished book means taking on a project. If you're anything like me, it leads you to a stack of other reading that loads you down with increasingly esoteric substitutions for an actual conclusion. The Mystery of Edwin Drood was reportedly the most written-about book in the English language at one point. Who has time for another obsession?
Without giving anything away to those still in the avoidance stage, readers of The Mystery of Edwin Drood divide into two camps: the survivalists who think Edwin Drood lives beyond his uncle John Jasper's attempt on his life, and the traditionalists who believe Edwin dies. In support of the theories, readers point to clues in the original illustrations, the book's chapter headings, Dickens's working notes for the novel and his discarded ideas for the title.
Dickens knew well what questions he was setting us up to ask. Cloisterham, the novel's fictional town, was (writes Dickens's narrator) “pretty equally divided in opinion whether John Jasper's beloved nephew had been rolled by his passionate rival treacherously, or in an open struggle; or had, for his own purposes, spirited himself away.” Surely, the big reveal could not simply have been to pick one of these two choices we already know about, or could it? Ask me at your peril. I'm so indecisive I have trouble choosing from a restaurant menu even as a vegetarian when there are often only one or two choices.
One reason The Mystery of Edwin Drood is important and unique today is related to the way it was first published in the summer of 1870. At the start of each month, readers would line up to purchase the latest installment of Dickens's novel. Families and friends would discuss and debate what might happen next—would even write letters to Dickens with ideas or complaints. The story unfolded around them in real time as part of their lives (more on serial writing). I call my novel The Last Dickens not only because it's about his final book, but also because there will never be another Charles Dickens.
I like to think of The Mystery of Edwin Drood as the last nineteenth century novel. Not literally. But in it we have the strange combination of a Dickens novel with all its multiple strands of story lines waiting for resolution, and the very postmodern lack of the desired resolution.
My characters in The Last Dickens are driven to commit both brave and evil deeds by trying to find out how The Mystery of Edwin Drood was meant to end. But I don't try to dictate on the subject. In fact, alongside our paperback release of the novel from Random House, Modern Library is releasing a new edition of The Mystery of Edwin Drood which I edited. I'd previously convinced them to let me edit similar companion editions for my other novels: a companion edition for The Dante Club, a companion edition for The Poe Shadow and a companion edition for The Last Dickens.
A special feature of our new edition is the inclusion of a previously out-of-print transcript of a mock trial about The Mystery of Edwin Drood's true ending, presided over by G. K. Chesterston and including George Bernard Shaw as head juror! It's a hoot, besides being enlightening.
People ask me how The Mystery of Edwin Drood was really supposed to end, as if I'd hold back if I had found the secret (I get the same question about Poe's death). Here is my answer: I happen to think Dickens himself was still deciding how the story would come out when he died—a luxury of the serially published author—but if I'm wrong, it's possible we'll one day find evidence of his plan for its ending. That might be a shame.
Besides the mock trial, other writers have tried their hand at writing a new ending to The Mystery of Edwin Drood as well as other unfinished books.
What do you think: should we try to recreate missing endings to books, or let them stand on their own?
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Great points, Elizabeth. Thanks for sharing them.
I wonder if Mr. Dickens were alive and writing, would people line up to purchase his latest installment. Hmmm...And should I stop reading The Last Dickens, until I've read "Edwin Drood"?
I was very careful to make sure The Last Dickens could be read and I hope enjoyed without any knowledge of Edwin Drood. Thanks for posting, Janet!
Can I just say, that I read (plain old) "Drood" recently, and I enjoyed your "The Last Dickens" way more! And, that I think I may enjoy reading about Dickens' work, more than I like actually reading Dickens.
After his untimely death, all we can do is guess. But, isn't the guessing fun? Isn't this why so many people have fought over the ending for so long? If Dickens had finished the novel, would we still be as fascinated?
I recently read the Suite Francaise by an author who was killed by the Nazis after being sent to a concentraion camp. She left the novel itself unfinished but had outlined the concluding chapters. While as a reader I can appreciate how the novel would have finished, I did miss the journey. Perhaps this sentiment applies to the Dickens novel as well?
As to the question should we recreate the missing parts of unfinished novels, I think that it would be almost impossible to stop. The reader's imagination begins where the author's words end.