Dear Collins,
I didn’t think a day would come for me to write a direct letter to you, although I have done it previously a few times to some of your other literary colleagues. But there is no help for it. Your Armadale has tried my patience to the breaking point, and if I don’t vent it by a letter to you, I swear I’ll explode. I’m suffering from no small amount of exasperation right now. My head is spinning, and my mind is so muddled that I can’t even distract myself with another book. I fear this feeling will stay with me for a day or two and keep me away from reading. So, do you see the damage you’ve done? Can you blame me for being so fired up? It really pains me to write this, it does. I have been a loyal fan of your novels, and three of them already sit on my favourite shelf. And I so hoped that Armadale would be another addition to that. Sadly, I was bitterly disappointed in my expectations. In the past, I have struggled with a few of your books, but nothing like this. Would you be shocked if I told you that I had to force myself to read it? I can only recall a handful of novels where I had to prepare myself mentally before reading, and Armadale has now joined that handful.
Let me give you the reasons for my discontent. I think I owe you that much. The story is too melodramatic to begin with. There are numerous implausible events and convenient coincidences just to get the plot going. The novel had a good plot; I will give you credit for that. But its execution felt contrived. The story didn’t flow naturally towards its end. Rather, you forced it towards the particular end you had in mind. You also failed to maintain the suspense that was expected of the sensational genre. In parts where the story was becoming suspenseful, you had to disturb the excitement by reverting to some trivial description! This is your longest novel, and had you taken a bit of pain to axe about 200 pages, the novel would have had an exciting flow. In short, the writing style you adopted in Armadale made it difficult for me to properly connect with the story.
Let’s come to the characters now. I simply hated the protagonist, Allan Armadale. He was a flippant fool and tried my patience extremely. Ozias Midwinter had a little more character to him. Even though his dark moods, brooding mind, and inclination towards the superstitious made him unattractive at the beginning, I ended up liking him. But your villainess, Lydia Gwilt, was the one who held my interest. She was the reason I managed to hold on towards the end. If my memory serves me right, this is the first time in my reading life that I was helped by a villain to see through to the end of a story! None of the secondary characters you’ve employed is of any interest. All of them are half-developed. A word about your character, Bashwood: I understand that you had to make him an old fool to suit your plot. But his role rather disgusted me.
As to the theme about fate vs free will, you do a fair job of arguing for both sides. But after stating the case for both, you refrain from pronouncing judgment and pass the ball to the reader. It’s fair play and good strategy. At least, I’m happy to say I have no grievance there.
It’s not a pleasant business to write an annoying letter to one of your favourite authors. And I hope I’ll be spared from writing another letter of this kind. You may laugh and say that I’m overreacting and finding faults with trivialities. Maybe I am. But don’t blame me for it. Blame yourself for raising my expectations. Oh, and remember to thank your brain for creating that good plot and the interesting villainess that saved your face.
Yours truly,
A disappointed loyal fan.
Rating: 3/5
