The Meaning of Night: A Confession

Summary: Our narrator, one Mr. Edward Glapthorn (or is he?) starts his confession by describing how he killed a stranger, simply to see if he had the constitution and nerve required of him to kill his "enemy" when he finally had the opportunity to wreak his revenge. That enemy is Phoebus Daunt, known to the narrator since they were at school together, whose life has been from that point fatefully intertwined with that of our narrator. From the murder of the very first pages, our narrator slowly unfolds for us his history - a tale of secrets, deceit, violence, treachery, love, betrayal, inheritances won and lost, the stratified social life of 1850s London, death, theft, and ultimately, revenge.

Review: Most of the other reviews of this show more novel that I've seen trot out the word "Dickensian" within the first few lines (and now I'm no exception!). Having only ever read A Christmas Carol myself, I can't really comment on that front, but it's clear that the first and foremost achievement of this novel is to so precisely hit its tone that it is remarkable that this book was published in 2006 and not 150 years before. The trappings of Victoriana are all there, as are the standard inheritance/class/revenge story points, but the dialogue, mood, subject matter, and writing style are so masterfully crafted that it pulls off the feat of being a historical novel in modern times, and expertly treads the fine line of seeming to belong to another era without feeling out of date, of replicating Victorian literary conventions while still feeling like something new.

The book is long, no question, but I found myself being pulled along unhesitatingly. By about halfway through, I didn't really like any of the characters, and yet I still really cared about the outcome. The Meaning of Night is one of those interesting cases where I wasn't really sure who to root for... Phoebus Daunt unquestionably deserves to have some vengeance wreaked upon him, but Edward, our narrator, is such a smug, remorseless, arrogant asshole, most of whose troubles are brought upon himself, that I couldn't wholeheartedly support him, either. The ending was satisfying enough, although I didn't particularly like the way the penultimate "twist" was handled - I don't know if the author intended it to come off as sexist as it did, or if that's just another echo of earlier times.

The audiobook was excellently done; I thought the narration matched the tone of the writing style perfectly. However, note that the text version contains a lot of footnotes that don't appear in the audiobook. 4 out of 5 stars.

Recommendation: Absorbing neo-Victorian mystery, although it was a bit strange to listen to it on beautiful sunny spring days... but it would be well worth looking into if you're hunting for something curl up with on a dark and stormy night. show less

This book was underwhelming and predictable. At times it was unbelievable. We're supposed to believe that the protagonist is an expert in subverting justice, a man who can navigate the seedy underworld of Victorian London. And yet he falls for an obvious trick. I didn't find any of the characters sympathetic or loathsome enough to care about what happened. Cox is no Dickens. He lacks the penmanship required to create characters whose exaggerations aren't mere caricature. The ambition of the novel is admirable, the concept an interesting one, but faked Victorian memoirs have been executed better by others. I spent as much time reading it as I did because, even though it wasn't compelling enough to draw me into its world, I kept hoping it show more would improve. It didn't. show less

Loved this. This has shown up on a lot of "recommended for you" lists for me, so I finally read it. Now I know why. Fabulous Victorian London setting a la 'The Crimson Petal and the White' with a little of 'The Woman in White' and 'Bleak House' thrown in. This is the story of Edward Glyver - who he believes he is, and how he sets out to prove it. His attempt to vanquish the man he sees as his enemy - the famous poet and soon to be heir to the Tansor fortune and barony, Phoebus Daunt. The story is presented as his written "confession" published in modern times and it is hard to tell fact from fiction as our charming, intelligent, murderous narrator spins his tale.

The novel is so engaging from the first sentence, I never wanted it to end. show more In addition to flawless period detail, intelligent prose, and a plot, Cox delivers one of the best characters to ever tell a story in Edward Glyver. Any reader has to be charmed by him although he is clearly pathological, deviant, drug-addled. You just can't help but route for him. He is a fabulous 'unreliable narrator' though it is hard to really suss out what is for real and what is his fantasy. Is it all real? Does everything happen the way he said it did? Do his friends really see him the way he sees his self? I found the tone of the whole novel delightfully Nabokovian because of this narration. I also found it fascinating that we saw everything through Glyver's lens as it were, yet in many instances were able to see more than him (i.e. Miss Cateret.) Clever writing, that.

Anyway, I loved it. Right up my alley. I would definitely read a sequel. Highly recommended for those who like Victorian mysteries as the ones I mentioned at the outset, as well as Sarah Waters, Arthur Phillips, Nabokov's 'Pale Fire,' Fowles' 'The French Lieutenant's Woman.' One of the most enjoyable books I've read in a while. show less

It took me a long time to get through this book, which checks in at 700 pages, but it was worth it. The Meaning of Night is a faux Victorian-era psychological thriller, published in 2006 but written in the style of 19th-century English murder novels. Cox knew what he was writing about, having been a scholar of the period, a biographer of early ghost-story writer M. R. James, and an editor of ghost and murder-story collections for Oxford University Press. Replications of Victorian-era literary practices abound, such as the book's format as a recently discovered manuscript containing this long "confession." The book starts with a murder, committed by the protagonist only as a rehearsal for the real murder he's planning, that of his show more life-long "enemy." The narrative then goes although back to the narrator's early life, telling a story of identity stolen, misplaced wrath and slow-turning tragedy until it finally reaches again the instant of the story's beginning, then hurtles forward toward its satisfying conclusion. The book begins as sort of a Victorian English Crime and Punishment, but along the way settles into a rhythm and style all its own. The story, as well, starts out slowly but soon gathers steam, and the characters move from seeming caricatures to interesting along the way. For the first 100 pages I wondered whether I was going to get through this, but by page 200 or so I was quite involved. Lots of fun in the long run, and worth the time, at least for me. show less

At some point in this novel the protagonist is warned to ‘trust no one’ something the reader should do as well. From the outset I did not trust Edward or G as his best friend calls him. This was his story told from his perspective and so it seemed wise to take what he said with a grain of salt. Besides that, he already confessed to murdering a stranger in the first sentence. But I did fall into the same trap he did and was shocked and a little sickened when I shouldn’t have been. At that point, I knew that the tale wouldn't end well.

G reminded me of Mersault – he was a complete egoist and self-involved, but with a streak of reasonable humanity that kept him from being completely loathed. Other readers compare him to Raskolnikov, show more but G’s lack of whining about his situation kept me from making that same connection. No, G’s attitude to his predicament is fairly sanguine, but determined to make it right. He places blame, but strives to rectify the situation rather than just wallow in self-pity. He believes that he is worthy of his rightful inheritance, but knows he’s not perfect. He has the love of a woman and cannot return it, but he leads her on to get what he wants. He has the trust of his employer, but does not return that by revealing his true identity (Tredgold already knows this, but still G’s omission is telling). He routinely uses opium and whores to relieve the tension of his situation. He has no qualms about using anyone as a tool to get what he wants. He is sympathetic because we eventually believe he has been cheated, but not so much that we’re sad when this wrong is not righted.

He’s not the only character drawn this way – realistically for a change. Tredgold is an upright citizen and very learned, but he keeps G on to do some dirty work for the firm and loves it when G gives him a volume to add to his collection of 19th century pornography. His friend and lover, Bella, is forthright and trustworthy, beautiful and loyal, but also a whore by trade. Daunt’s public persona of poet and business whiz is false, while he is actually a cheat, liar and murderer. The minor players were also fun, like his downstairs neighbor (ultimately revealed as an ally of Daunt’s) – oily and unctuous he reminded me of Uriah Heep and I think he met a similar end.

The atmosphere in this book fairly drips off the pages. The footnotes were a great device to further the idea that this is an actual 19th century document, unearthed, researched and ultimately published by the equally fictional editor. They were also useful as a tool to decipher some of the place names, events and people G peppers throughout his narrative. It sets the framework and the time period perfectly while maintaining the illusion of authenticity. Nice trick. show less

I think readers who love Wilkie Collins’ The Woman in White or Michel Faber’s Crimson Petal and the White will also love this one. Cox skillfully provides readers with a revenge mystery not only set in Victorian England – and filled with characters with Dickensian names – but also accurately reproduces the style of a Victorian-era sensation novel. The “gimmick” to this one is that the story is presented in the format of a genuine 19th century manuscript, complete with footnotes. The story has all of the atmospheric experience of the seedier underside of 1850’s London, juxtaposed against the pristine and awe inspiring Evenwood country estate. If the Victorian atmosphere doesn’t draw you in, then maybe the ”complicated show more web of happenstance, circumstance and conspiracy” will. If not that, there is always the suspense as Cox sends his characters on an intricate waltz of secrets, deceits and greed. Whether our narrator Glyver is a reliable character deserving of a reader’s sympathy or just a madman ranting, you will have to read this one to reach your own conclusions.

Overall, a richly complex and engrossing Victorian-styled read. show less

I didn't previously write a review of this book, but it's not because I didn't like it. In fact, I've decided to add it to my favorites list, as it made quite an impression. I enjoyed the style of writing. I see in the other reviews that people said they saw what was going to happen a long time before it did. I think that's part of the beauty of the style. It's like the proverbial situation of being able to see an accident that's going to happen and not being able to do anything about it. Also, knowing those involved don't know what's coming - how will they react? The other strong impression I have is despite the fact the author laid out the flaws of his main character Edward Glyver right from the start, (he's killing someone in the show more first scene - and there are other negatives too!), I found myself hoping he would avoid his fate! I found myself marvelling at that. Why should I be in his corner? Yes, he had things to be upset about but his response to them was to turn into a vindictive person, and to let that rule his life. I didn't like him, and yet I didn't want him to fall into the trap. I'll definitely re-read this at some point.
I would love to listen to this book as an audio book, but do not see an audio edition yet available. show less