Before I start talking about Henry Dunbar by Mary Elizabeth Braddon and The Blood of the Vampire by Florence Marryat, I feel I should make a full disclosure.

These are the two newest releases from Victorian Secrets, the small publishing house set up by my friend Catherine to bring forgotten 19th century books back from bibliographic obscurity. Not only is it a friend that has (re-)published these titles, but I also proof-read them. So, if in the interests of balance you now think that whatever praise I heap upon the books is irrevocably skewed and biased, then possibly best to look away now, even though I hereby give my word that the following is my own honest opinion.

Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Sitting comfortably?

Then we will begin.

Henry Dunbar was Mary Elizabeth Braddon’s eighth acknowledged novel, originally published in 1864, two years after the 3 volume publication of her most famous novel, Lady Audley’s Secret. It is the story of the eponymous Henry Dunbar, who returns to England from India after having been banished there decades previously after some dodgy dealings with questionable cheques. Waiting for revenge after all this time is Joseph Wilmot, the young man severely wronged in the process by Dunbar. When, after a confrontation, Wilmot’s dead body is discovered, his daughter Margaret begins a campaigned of retribution upon Henry Dunbar.

Of course, it’s not all quite as straight-forward as that, being as this is a classic example of mid-Victorian sensation fiction. Murder! Intrigue! Mistaken identity! Train crashes! Fraud! It’s all terribly exciting, and if you’re looking for a rip-roaring read then I absolutely recommend it. It’s the kind of book that will certainly get you through a long train journey (though I hope yours doesn’t end up like the one in the novel…).

My favourite of the two novels, though, is Florence Marryat’s The Blood of the Vampire. Here’s the blurb:

Harriet Brandt is the daughter of a mad scientist and a mixed-race voodoo priestess. Brought up on her parents’ Jamaican plantation, she is forced to flee to Europe after the slaves revolt. Although everyone is initially attracted to Harriet, people who get close to her seem to sicken and die.

That’s because our Harriet is a psychic vampire who feeds off the life-force of those around her! Now, there is much that is distasteful to the 21st century palette, mostly notably some quite stonking racism. It is no coincidence that Harriet, this prime example of the ‘other’, is half-Jamaican, and much is made of her mixed race-ness. That aside, though, she is also loaded with the attributes of the New Woman, those nasty feminist sorts who seemed to want independence (gasp!). From my point of view as someone who did their Masters dissertation on motherhood and the New Women, there is much to academically chew on here. The representative member of the established patriarchy, Dr Phillips, makes it very clear that no good can come of Harriet given her parentage, and she should never marry or procreate for fear of passing along her curse.

The Blood of the Vampire  is also very interesting due to the year in which is was published, 1897. As some of you may know, a rather more famous vampire novel was also published that year. Some similar themes appear in both, and I’ve been pondering re-reading Dracula since finishing the Marryat novel a few weeks ago.

Do pop over to the Victorian Secrets website and have a look at the other published and forthcoming titles. I think it’s a tremendous and very useful venture. But I would say that, wouldn’t I?