A review by stephen_arvidson
The Last Dickens by Matthew Pearl

5.0

The works of Charles Dickens have stood the test of time since the 19th century, including his final, unfinished novel, The Mystery of Edwin Drood. Published as a serial, TMoED kept adoring readers eagerly awaiting the next installment. Yet, when Dickens perished from a stroke midway through the novel, the world was aghast at losing its most popular author, the public left frantically yearning to know the author’s intentions. Was Edwin Drood murdered—and if so, who was the killer? Was it Edwin's uncle, John Jasper, cathedral precenter and opium addict, who nursed a malevolent passion for his nephew’s fiancée, Rosa Bud? Yeah, most likely, but then we'll never know...or will we?

Penned by the compelling and capable Matthew Pearl, The Last Dickens is the third in the bestselling author’s literary trinity, impeccably aligned with his two prior novels, The Dante Club and The Poe Shadow. Like its predecessors The Last Dickens is an intriguing meld of bookish history and thrilling mystery set in the distant past and embroiling shadowy facets of real-life literary giants. As in his previous efforts, Pearl takes certain liberties with historical fact and (for the most part) triumphantly sculpts a splendid mystery for us, delicately moulding it with the scandals of the era.

When news of Charles Dickens’s untimely death reaches the office of struggling American publisher, Fields & Osgood—and trusted clerk Daniel Sand is found murdered on the Boston docks after being dispatched to collect Dickens’s unfinished manuscript—junior publisher James Ripley Osgood embarks on a transatlantic quest to unearth the novel’s ending, thereby saving his esteemed business and revealing Daniel’s killer. Pearl skillfully captures all the customs and etiquette of the Victorian era, all the curios and claptrap, adding a young divorcee to the mix, Rebecca Sand, a competent bookkeeper at Fields & Osgood (and older sister of the deceased clerk) who joins Osgood on his perilous journey. Readers find themselves on familiar romantic ground as hero Osgood and heroine Rebecca exchange shy glances whilst squaring off with exotic villains, opium addicts, hardnosed actors, literary sharks, and competing members of Dickens’s inner circle.

Very similar in style, atmosphere, and pacing to Pearl’s period thriller The Poe Shadow, The Last Dickens is as engrossing as it is educational, a history lesson finely blended with a succulent mystery. Much like The Poe Shadow’s treatment of Poe’s detective character of C. Auguste Dupin, Pearl employs TMoED to craft a thinly-disguised fictionalization of the story of a young man from the neighborhood of Gads Hill Place, Dickens's country home.

While structurally awkward, the flashback sequences of Dickens’s backbreaking 1867 American tour embodied my favorite sections of the novel—not just because Dickens himself is featured as a character, but rather the superstar author’s treatment at the hands of 1860s American public precisely resonates with contemporary mores and the nascency of celebrity worship; as evidenced in the manner wherein the feverish crowds on the docks await the arrival of the author’s ship, the harried fans outside the theaters, and the passionate stalkers harassing Dickens every step of the way. It's worth noting that the character of Louisa Parr Barton and the theft of Dickens’s diary are based on actual persons and events.

Unexpectedly, one of my favorite aspects of the novel is Pearl’s fascinating portrait of the 19th-century publishing industry. The Boston-based Fields & Osgood, Dickens' exclusive publisher in the States, representing the good guys who find themselves in a precarious position after the writer's death, and being pitted against the predatory Harper Brothers of New York. Publishing houses fighting to stay afloat and international copyright laws lacking refinement, thereby giving rise to literary pirates dubbed bookaneers—Pearl fashions a palpable underbelly of the publishing world that is suspenseful and yet laced in historical truth.

Alas, the novel isn’t without its shortcomings. The India subplot surrounding Dickens’s son Frank, a supervisor with the Bengal Mounted Police and a keen interest in the opium trade, kick-starts the novel and while initially promising, it ultimately fails to pay off. While these chapters grippingly depict the rampant circulation of opium and the British Empire's shamefaced involvement, they never really tie back to the main plot and by the end of the novel felt more like an afterthought. What’s more, Frank Dickens’s absent relationship with his distinguished father further distances the India storyline from everything else.

Comparatively, The Last Dickens falls short of the high bar set by Dan Simmons’s towering masterpiece, Drood, which also explored Dickens's incomplete novel from a very dissimilar lens. It may be unfair, though, to equate the two novels (both of which were published in 2009), particularly since the historical figures of Charles Dickens and Wilkie Collins, as featured in Simmons’s book, are less rooted in historical reality. Moreover, while both books explore the common theme of opium—and a little bit with the mesmerism—Simmons does so more heavily and the result is a phantasmagoric journey into London’s dark underworld with all the makings of a gothic fantasy, jam-packed with the fruits of its author's laborious research.

While not a perfect story, The Last Dickens is atmospheric and cleverly plotted. There’s even an amusing interview between author Pearl and character Osgood in the trade paperback edition. If intelligent, well researched, deftly written mysteries are what you seek, then look no further.