FIVE STARS

Read it slowly. Deliberately.

Do not skip over one. Single.

Solitary. Word.

Michael Cox penned his words into a cohesive, masterful telling after having lived with it, in his head and on scraps of paper, for 30 years. The result is a meticulously researched profusion of literary genius.

The reader is first introduced to the ‘confessor’ in the Editors Preface, which one returns to read after having read the first few pages in Part The First. Obligatory. The Editor, you see, adds his "…own editorial interpolations and footnotes….." throughout, which are a bit of a distraction. But, I admit, while I did not read every footnote, I did peek at them from time to time.

Edward Glyver, as he calls himself, although he has other names, is an amateur detective who has stabbed to death, a stranger. For no other reason than to know, without doubt, that killing was indeed in him. 
 

First, we witness the rehearsal of a murderer, then we are taken back across time into the extraordinary circumstances and passion that molded him thus. Through blackmail, passion, betrayal, delusion and obsession into a climax you won’t see coming.

The moment our eyes cross over the first word, we are transported out of this reality and into a convincingly Victorian era. The entire time we are reading we are in 19th century England. No doubt. The characters are formidable, and the language is fraught with emotion.

Giddy with twists and turns, The Meaning of Night is a shocking revelation, and unfailingly suspenseful.

A compelling read that you never want to end.

MESMERIZING

Caveat:

Since completing The Meaning of Night, I started reading The Suspicions of Mr. Whicher by Kate Summerscale. And, whilst I am still in Victorian England and still in the bowels of murder, I’m afraid I’ve been completely tainted. I am twenty-five pages into this new read, and I dare to say that I can not say what it is I’ve been reading!

 I am still in Northamptonshire and Evenwood where The Meaning of Night is set. Oh dear, I can not seem to get that book out of my head. Oh dear. Oh dear.

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