You will definitely read The Solitary House from beginning to end, though perhaps not without some difficulty, if you tend to want to get on with things. Author Lynn Shepherd’s well-received debut novel, Murder at Mansfield Park, was a literate re-thinking of Jane Austen’s style and métier, while her new novel ambitiously sets out to re-imagine the world and words of Charles Dickens’ Bleak House.

Charles Maddox, a bright, irascible and somewhat quick-tempered guy, is trying to earn his living as a private sleuth in 1850s London, after being sacked by the London police. He’s hired by eminent attorney Edward Tulkinghorn, ostensibly to find the source of threatening letters that some of his clients have received. But Tulkinghorn is seeking something of quite a different nature. Charles tumbles to the fact that he’s being used for another purpose—protecting the terrible secrets of some of the city’s most influential powerbrokers—and he discovers deadly purpose and personal danger behind a string of horrific murders that have dogged his steps since taking Tulkinghorn’s assignment. In his detecting, he benefits from sporadic but incisive help from his great-uncle Maddox, now suffering from encroaching dementia, but once a legendary detective and “thief taker” in his own right. Charles also has another client, a man seeking the possible whereabouts of a long-missing grandchild.

This tasty slice of Victoriana is sure to resonate with fans of the genre.

Readers will quickly figure out that the two storylines are eventually going to intersect, but getting to the denouement is a complicated and sometimes hair-raising experience. The plot moves through dark streets and alleys in a gritty, grimy Victorian London that shows a sinister underbelly far scarier than could ever be imagined.

Fans of Charles Dickens will revel in this engrossing tale featuring an attractive and stubborn sleuth, though it may be a harder slog for those who like a more straightforward narrative. Besides two narrative points of view (one that follows Charles, unaccountably couched in the present tense, and one simply called “Hester’s Narrative”), there’s a third anonymous narrator, a kind of one-man Greek chorus, whose comments pop up occasionally while adding little to the story’s progression. These can be a distraction in a story already bursting with compelling scenes and characters. The author’s obvious descriptive skills, meticulous research into the era and fine storytelling ability would stand out even more without the narrative complications. However, this tasty slice of Victoriana is sure to resonate with fans of the genre.

The early to mid-20th century is a popular setting in the world of detective fiction, touching as it does on the cataclysmic changes underway on the brink of the modern era. The London atmosphere of Elegy for Eddie, the ninth novel in Jacqueline Winspear’s Maisie Dobbs series, perfectly evokes these changes, as the new is rapidly replacing the old. Workhorses are just about replaced by motorcars and delivery trucks; assembly-line workers replace mom-and-pop entrepreneurs; airplanes attract attention as they fly overhead; and labor unions and feminists are assembling their forces. Behind it all, a major conflict with Germany looms. 

Private inquiry agent Maisie Dobbs tries to stay abreast of the changes as she works out of her small London investigative office. She responds to a plea from a group of street peddlers—old friends from her father’s era—who are distraught over the death of Eddie Pettit, a well-known character among the city’s street sellers and hawkers. Eddie, a man whom today we might call mentally challenged, had a willing disposition and a gift for diagnosing exactly what an ailing horse needed. He could communicate with the equine population better than anyone else around. As the use of workhorses waned, Eddie took on other projects as he found them, and one such job proved to be his undoing. Maisie sets out to show that the “accident” was really murder and discover why a gentle, somewhat simple man could have become the victim of such a brutal crime.

Thus, Maisie steps into a mess of prewar political intrigue and danger. Readers may find the protagonist excessively nosy or, in today’s terms, obsessive-compulsive. However, her perfectionism and intrusive nature gets soundly challenged by friends and acquaintances as the story progresses; from the sound of it, Maisie may start questioning her need to be in control and relaxing a bit in future installments of this series. Throughout the book, she tries her best to avoid making a commitment to the man who loves her. But there’s a cool breeze blowing at the end of the novel as we see Maisie and her sometimes-lover, James, relaxing at Sam’s café, enjoying an ice cream cone. This may signal good news for fans of these popular books.