Murder, lust abundant in ‘Blundy’ novel

All Things Literary

I sat with my legs tucked beneath me on the worn couch, slightly hidden from sight on the first floor of Carrier Library. Only my fingertips turning the book’s pages interrupted the room’s all-encompassing silence. Let me assure you, silence was the last thing I wanted when reading Julie Myerson’s "Laura Blundy."

I haven’t come across something that truly sent shivers down my spine in quite a while, but this book did just that. "Laura Blundy" was written with an unsettling nature that seeps through the pages with its descriptive language.

In early nineteenth century London, Laura is living on the streets after her father’s death. She is run down by a carriage and hospitalized, after which a surgeon amputates her damaged leg. In a bizarre courtship that follows, the surgeon, Ewan, romances Laura and marries her.

Ewan, an awkward, socially inept man, is thrilled by the marriage and tries to make Laura a typical housewife — one who doesn’t mind responsibilities and allows her husband to provide for her. Yet Laura, accustomed to taking care of herself for so many years on the streets, grows restless with this forced role and quickly rebels against it.

She begins an affair with the much younger Billy, which soon spirals into an obsession on her part. She becomes unable to distinguish from right and wrong. In a desperate effort to secure a life with Billy, Laura gruesomely murders her husband when he protests her leaving him.

This was the turning point in the novel. Before that, I thought Laura had been a victim — an innocent, crippled woman who was stuck in a hollow existence through no fault of her own. Yet her reaction to her husband’s murder was incredibly disturbing. She was calm, relieved and seemed almost proud of what she had done. She applauded herself for being able to kill a stronger man. Laura seemed at once like a calculating, cold-blooded murderer. Suddenly, reading this book all by myself in a dark corner of the library was a seriously creepy experience.

Following the murder, the rest of the book progresses between flashbacks to Laura’s troubled past life and she and her lover’s attempts to dispose of her husband’s body. Prepare to be deeply unsettled here: A woman cannot suffer much more than Laura Blundy has. Her past will make you all the more appreciative of your own life, and maybe give you the slightest insight into how Laura is capable of such a horrific crime.

Myerson had a definite point to make when writing this novel. She created a character that was haunted by many things — her family, her decisions and her past — but still managed to survive on her own. In doing so, Myerson has created a frightening image of empowered femininity that crosses over into the dangerous territory of murder.

When I finished the book, I had to catch my breath. It was intense, to say the least. There was brutality, but beneath it there was passion, as misunderstood as it may be. The book differed from anything I’ve ever read before, and I know the plot will stay with me for a long time. As much as I enjoyed this twisted, complex novel, I won’t be reading in the dark corridors of the library by myself anymore. Solitude is not my friend with reading material this terrifyingly engrossing.