Showing posts with label The Unseeing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Unseeing. Show all posts

Sunday, 31 July 2016

July competition

 A slightly different competition this month!


Anna Mazzola's post on 29th July lists different kinds of crime souvenir that Victorians collected (mugs, figurines, pieces of the hangman's rope). Tweet or Facebook message her a picture of another piece of historical murderabilia to be in with a chance of winning a copy of The Unseeing.


@anna_mazz
https://www.facebook.com/AnnaMazzolaWriter
 

Closing date 7th August

Our competitions are open to UK Followers only

Friday, 29 July 2016

Crime as Entertainment in the 19th century by Anna Mazzola

Photo credit: Lou Abercrombie


Our July guest is Anna Mazzola.

Anna lives in Camberwell, London, not far from where the murder at the heart of The Unseeing took place. The Unseeing is Anna's first novel. She is currently working on her second historical crime novel, which is about a collector of folk tales and fairy lore on the Isle of Skye in 1857 who realises that girls are going missing.

Anna studied English at Pembroke College, Oxford, before becoming a criminal justice solicitor. She divides her time between writing, reading, lawyering, and child-wrangling. 

http://annamazzola.com
 
A Dark and Dreadful Interest: Crime as Entertainment in the 19th century

We often think of the Victorians as a moralistic and upright bunch, and of the 19th century as a time when things became more civilized. After all, over the course of the century, violent sports were mostly outlawed, the Bloody Code was dismantled, and capital punishment was hidden from public view. Yet it was also the era in which crime reporting and murder as entertainment flourished. While researching for my début novel, The Unseeing, I discovered that our current fixation with true crime is nothing compared with what Dickens referred to as the Victorians’ ‘dark and dreadful interest’ in murderers and their punishment.

The Making of Murderers

Since the late 17th century, the Ordinaries of Newgate prison had been making a tidy profit from publishing the ‘confessions’ of condemned prisoners. However, the Ordinaries lost their monopoly when, in 1773, the keeper of Newgate began publishing the Newgate Calendar: ‘interesting memoirs of the most notorious characters who have been convicted of outrages on the laws.’

Sales, however, were still fairly small. It was with the expansion of the press in the early 19th century (aided by increasing literacy and the lowering and later abolition of stamp duty) that things really kicked off. As Judith Flanders explains in ‘The Invention of Murder’, several early cases were key in establishing the whole industry of death. John Thurtell, who in 1823 bludgeoned William Weare to death, became the subject of the first ‘trial by newspaper’. William Catnatch printed 500,000 copies of an account of the trial, the story was the lead item in the London Chronicle, Times, Morning Herald and Observer, two melodramas were written for London theatres (one before the case had even been tried), tourists arrived in droves for a tour of the murder scene, and balladeers made a killing selling songs based on the crime. 40,000 people turned out to see Thurtell executed, and the marketing of his story continued long after his death, as did his influence on the press.



The same grisly pattern was followed in the later cases of Maria Marten and the Red Barn (where Marten was murdered by William Corder), Burke and Hare (who sold the corpses of their 16 victims to an Edinburgh doctor for his anatomy lectures), and the Edgware Road murder: the crime for which James Greenacre and Sarah Gale were convicted, and the case on which The Unseeing is based.
Crime news was now prime news.



Broadsides and Penny Bloods

More affordable than newspapers were murder broadsides – printed sheets with an account of the crime, a woodcut illustration of the murder or execution, and often a lamentation. At the 1849 execution of Maria and Frederick Manning for the murder of her lover, 2.5 million broadsides were sold. However, sales for James Greenacre broadsides were slower. A street seller explained to Henry Mayhew that this was because Greenacre’s execution came close after Pegsworth’s (who had murdered a draper) and ‘that took the beauty off him. Two murderers together is no good to nobody'.

Cheap weekly papers were also being established and there was a booming industry in ‘Penny Bloods’ that originally concentrated on highwaymen and evil aristocrats, but later on true crimes, especially murders. And if there were no decent real-life crimes to draw upon, the penny bloods invented them. The most successful of all was a penny blood entitled The String of Pearls, which began publication in 1846. We know it now as Sweeney Todd, The Demon Barber.

 

The Blood-Stained Stage

It was not just the printing presses that ran on blood. Theatres (in particular, The Surrey and the Coburg) thrived on crime-based melodramas, to the extent that a commentator in 1840 noted of a Stepney theatre that, ‘the Newgate calendar and tales of terror stand in the same place as Homer did to the ancient dramatists.’

As Rosalind Crone explains in ‘Violent Victorians’, a host of bloody entertainments and representations saturated Victorian culture from the 1820s to the 1870s, including deeply violent Punch and Judy shows, and murderous peepshows: people would peer through the viewing-hole of a small box to see a painted murder scene in which the characters were pulled up and down by strings. The story of Maria Marten became a touring staple.

And then there was the greatest show of all: the gallows. Until 1868, felons were hanged outside Horsemonger Lane Gaol and outside the debtor’s door at Newgate prison, attracting enormous and excitable crowds of men, women and children. A huge number came to the hanging of James Greenacre, over a thousand waiting overnight outside Newgate to secure a place in the morning. Pie-men made their way through the throng selling Greenacre tarts while ballad-singers hawked the confession of the murderer: a fun day out for the whole family.

Scaffold Culture

If you couldn’t make it to the gallows, you could visit a moving waxworks display, many of which included relics of murderers or victims collected at the scenes of crime. Such shows ranged from the ‘respectable’ Madame Tussaud’s and her Separate Room (later the Chamber of Horrors) to itinerant waxworks displays, which travelled about between fairs.

You might also be able to purchase a memento: a splinter of wood from the Red Barn where William Corder killed Maria Marten, or perhaps a piece of the hedge through which her body had been dragged. Staffordshire pottery figurines of murderers and their victims were also available. Murderer John Thurtell’s face was crafted onto the side of mugs; the Red Barn murder was immortalised in figurines of Marten, Corder and also quaint models of the barn itself.

Also extremely popular were tours of the scene of the crime. After the murder of Hannah Brown, James Greenacre’s landlord gave guided tours of his house in Camberwell. These proved so popular that the police had to be brought in to stop visitors removing relics of the crime – tables, chairs, even the door.

The Common Attribute of Every Age

No such tours operate today, of course, but numerous guided walks continue to celebrate the most famous of Victorian murderers: Jack the Ripper. Our continuing fascination for violence and murder manifests itself in different ways: in the success of shows such as Serial, The Jinx and Making a Murderer, and in the prominence given to murders by the media. Rightly or wrongly, we continue to be enthralled by human tragedy – by what drives people to commit dreadful crimes, by what happens to the victims. ‘This appetite of the mind for particulars of great crimes and criminals has been stigmatized as vulgar,’ said the Daily Telegraph in 1881. ‘It is only vulgar in so far as it is universal, the common attribute of every age, people and clime.’




Anna Mazzola’s debut novel, The Unseeing, set in London in 1837, is now out from Tinder Press (Headline).






Monday, 11 July 2016

Anna Mazzola, Interview and Review by Katherine Clements

Every now and then a debut novel comes along that stands out from the crowd. The Unseeing by Anna Mazzola is one.

Sarah Gale is a seamstress, prostitute and single mother, incarcerated in Newgate Prison, sentenced to hang for her role in the murder of Hannah Brown. Young, ambitious lawyer, Edmund Fleetwood, is appointed to investigate Sarah’s petition for mercy, yet she refuses to help him. Convinced that Sarah is hiding something, and unable to understand why she won’t act to save her own life, Edmund must discover what really happened on the night of the murder. In the process, he discovers some unsetting truths.

The exact details of the Edgeware Road Murder – a real murder case that became a press sensation in 1837 – remain shady to this day. Sarah, convicted of aiding and abetting James Greenacre in the gristly crime, refused to defend herself, stating only that she knew nothing of it.

Sarah Gale’s silence during her trial and incarceration is fertile ground for a novelist and Mazzola, a criminal justice lawyer, has clearly relished both the research and the possibilities. Real testimony and newspaper clippings are weaved throughout. Sometimes such embellishments can detract from a story but here they add depth to it. Mazzola’s legal background shines through too, especially in the character of Fleetwood, whose pragmatic approach to finding the facts is soon challenged.

It’s hard to believe this is a debut novel. Mazzola’s prose is wonderful and the characters are complex and convincing. The cleverly woven plot is revealed gradually with tension maintained right up to the closing lines. Sarah is particularly well drawn; fascinating, frustrating and sympathetic by turns, echoing Fleetwood’s experience of her as she refuses to help him prove her innocence.

I particularly enjoyed the gritty depictions of poverty stricken 19th century London and its injustices (reminding me a little of, among others, Michel Faber’s The Crimson Petal and the White or Sarah Waters’ Affinity). The depiction of Newgate prison, with its harsh conditions and reprehensible inmates, is particularly visceral. But for me, the book's message about the position of women at the time stood out as one of the strongest themes. Without legal or financial rights, many women’s lives were determined by men. As such, Sarah could come across as a victim, but Mazzola avoids this, ensuring that Sarah finds a way to choose her own fate, even if it’s a shocking one, as she offers up a plausible and satisfying solution to the mystery.

This is a novel that raises questions about the nature of truth, secrets and manipulation, the lies we tell ourselves and what we choose to believe. And it’s a gripping read. If you like your historical crime beautifully written, intelligent and genuinely moving, this is one for you.

Anna kindly agreed to answer a few questions about the book:

Where and when did you first come across the story of Sarah Gale and what was it that fascinated you about her story?

I first heard about James Greenacre and the murder of Hannah Brown in the Suspicions of Mr Whicher. The crime is mentioned only briefly, but seized my attention as it took place in Camberwell, not far from where I live. However, when I read the Old Bailey transcript, I realized this was Sarah Gale’s story. She was accused of helping Greenacre to conceal the horrific murder of another woman and yet she said virtually nothing throughout the entire trial. Her barrister gave a short statement on her behalf saying that she was not in Camberwell at the time of the murder and knew nothing of it afterwards. Very little is said to combat the various claims that are made against Sarah or to deal with the different pieces of evidence that are offered up. Given she was facing the death sentence, I thought that was very strange. What was really going on?

You must have done quite a bit of research into the case. Did you make any surprising discoveries or have any 'aha!' moments?

I did a huge amount of research – that’s always the most fun part, isn’t it? – and had quite a few ‘AHA’ and ‘OMG’ moments, but I’m afraid I can’t tell you about most of them without spoiling the plot. I was unnerved to learn that James Greenacre had left Sarah his spectacles. I suppose glasses at that time were valuable, and it was perhaps an act of kindness, but he doesn’t seem to have been a kind man. Far from it. I wondered if it could have been a message: a warning that he was still watching.

Sarah could be considered a victim – due to her treatment by men, the courts and the press – but she doesn't come across like that at all. Was the issue of women's rights or legal position at the time in your mind when creating her?

Yes, because I think it’s an important part of Sarah’s story and what ultimately happened to her. This was an era in which married women had no legal personality of their own, and when wives who had committed crimes under the influence of their husband were judged to have a defence due to apparently having no mind of their own. At the same time, women who committed crimes were judged to be particularly abhorrent as they were subverting the feminine norm. They were angels or demons – there doesn’t seem to have been much in between – and the other characters in The Unseeing have pronounced views on which they think Sarah is. Sarah of course knows that, and works with what she has.

Without giving away any spoilers, do you think your background as a lawyer helped or hindered you in creating a fictional solution to the crime?

It was definitely a hindrance. It took me a long time, and several beatings from my agent, before I was able to move away from the ‘facts’ and produce a narrative that anyone would actually want to read. I’m of course used to working with real cases where facts are all-important, so it was difficult for me to accept that I had to let go of factual accuracy in order to achieve a different kind of narrative truth.  It’s part of the reason that one of the key themes of The Unseeing is truth and deception.

What's next? Can you tell us what you're working on now?

I’m currently writing my second historical crime novel, which is set on the Isle of Skye in 1857. It’s about a young woman who goes to work for a collector of folklore and discovers that a young girl has gone missing, supposedly taken by spirits, although of course that’s not what she believes. Again, the idea was sparked by a real case, but given my difficulty with leaving ‘the facts’ I haven’t tried to base it on the case in the same way that I did with The Unseeing. I may, however, return to that format for book three. Just to make things difficult for myself.

The Unseeing is out on 14th July and Anna will be our History Girls guest this month. Look out for her post on 29th July!