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3.4 AVERAGE
3.4 AVERAGE
informative
sad
slow-paced
Boring and slow. Not what I was expecting or wanting from this book.
Just as with The Suspicions of Mr Whicher, I was absorbed by this meticulously researched and fascinating story.
Set in 1895, we see 13 year old Robert and his younger brother, Nattie, spending money that it seems they should not have. They tell neighbours that their mother has gone to visit relatives in Liverpool, and they have been left in the care of a family friend. For ten days their behaviour is not seen as out of the ordinary. Our suspicions are raised by comments about a foul smell coming from the home and Robert pawning much-loved possessions to obtain money.
It is not until their aunt becomes suspicious and forces her way into the family home that we learn the source of the smell. The badly decomposed body of their mother is found upstairs in her bedroom, and Robert confesses to matricide.
Summerscale takes us through the trial at the Old Bailey and details of what happened next. This was packed full of information about the case, but it also included a wealth of details about life and attitudes of the time. We are told of the plea that Robert was insane, and I could not help but be shocked by the generally held beliefs about the effects of educating the poor.
When Robert is sentenced to imprisonment in Broadmoor, that could have been the end of it. What follows seems more a work of fiction, but we learn of the chance Robert was given to start a new life and the way he seizes this opportunity. This, for me, was what made the story special.
Thank you to NetGalley and the publishers for making this advance copy available.
Set in 1895, we see 13 year old Robert and his younger brother, Nattie, spending money that it seems they should not have. They tell neighbours that their mother has gone to visit relatives in Liverpool, and they have been left in the care of a family friend. For ten days their behaviour is not seen as out of the ordinary. Our suspicions are raised by comments about a foul smell coming from the home and Robert pawning much-loved possessions to obtain money.
It is not until their aunt becomes suspicious and forces her way into the family home that we learn the source of the smell. The badly decomposed body of their mother is found upstairs in her bedroom, and Robert confesses to matricide.
Summerscale takes us through the trial at the Old Bailey and details of what happened next. This was packed full of information about the case, but it also included a wealth of details about life and attitudes of the time. We are told of the plea that Robert was insane, and I could not help but be shocked by the generally held beliefs about the effects of educating the poor.
When Robert is sentenced to imprisonment in Broadmoor, that could have been the end of it. What follows seems more a work of fiction, but we learn of the chance Robert was given to start a new life and the way he seizes this opportunity. This, for me, was what made the story special.
Thank you to NetGalley and the publishers for making this advance copy available.
A really well-written account of a gruesome historical crime that demonstrates great compassion for all involved. Robert Coombes at 12 years old in Victorian London brutally murdered his mother. The mother appears to have been troubled, possibly bipolar, which likely contributed to the event. Robert possibly had some brain damage from birth or from his living situation, but possibly just had adjustment issues and emotional disturbance.
What I liked best about this book was that it did not limit itself to be a discussion of a true crime event. In addition to capturing the circumstances of life which clearly contributed to the crime, it follows the life of Robert after his conviction as "guilty but mentally ill." I was fascinated by the discussion of the conditions of Broadmoor mental institution-- especially when you contrast them with the other British mental facility Bethlem or Bedlam-- they put most modern institutions anywhere to shame. I have no doubt that it was the empathy and respect and decent living conditions there that accounted for Robert's success in later life.
His later life included service in WWI as part of the ANZAC troops, with service in the Somme after the disaster of Gallipoli. (This exploration of Gallipoli helps me understand a bit more the significance of this battle in Australian history, which has always seemed curious.) Robert's talents and interests were given the chance to blossom and he became an important person in his small community although never rich or famous. I found this story to be an excellent lesson in what is possible when people -- even those who have done terrible things-- are given a chance.
What I liked best about this book was that it did not limit itself to be a discussion of a true crime event. In addition to capturing the circumstances of life which clearly contributed to the crime, it follows the life of Robert after his conviction as "guilty but mentally ill." I was fascinated by the discussion of the conditions of Broadmoor mental institution-- especially when you contrast them with the other British mental facility Bethlem or Bedlam-- they put most modern institutions anywhere to shame. I have no doubt that it was the empathy and respect and decent living conditions there that accounted for Robert's success in later life.
His later life included service in WWI as part of the ANZAC troops, with service in the Somme after the disaster of Gallipoli. (This exploration of Gallipoli helps me understand a bit more the significance of this battle in Australian history, which has always seemed curious.) Robert's talents and interests were given the chance to blossom and he became an important person in his small community although never rich or famous. I found this story to be an excellent lesson in what is possible when people -- even those who have done terrible things-- are given a chance.
emotional
informative
medium-paced
A really unique piece of non-fiction; the type of book I want to run around forcing on strangers. When I first picked this book up, my thought processes were roughly: "Oooh, lurid Victorian true crime, my favourite". The lurid crime depicted is truly one of the most disturbing and upsetting I've read - and I'm a big aficionado of true crime.
However, the book doesn't end there. In tracing the history of notorious child-murderer Robert Coombes, Kate Summerscale tells a disturbing, unexpected, twisty and ultimately affecting story of redemption. When I finished this book I had tears in my eyes. A really beautiful read, but also desperately sad and disturbing.
However, the book doesn't end there. In tracing the history of notorious child-murderer Robert Coombes
Spoiler
through his 17-year stint at Broadmoor (and who knew that Broadmoor in the Victorian era was a bastion of enlightened mental healthcare, kindness and understanding?), his years of serving with bravery and grace under fire during the First World War, and his peaceful twilight years in Australia
3.5 stars. The Wicked Boy held my attention & was very interesting for its central focus on a boy who kills his mother & the consequences of his action. While the background detail of time (late 19th C), place (East London) & broad context (working class family with the father away from home working for long periods) is well drawn, sometimes there was too much detail about characters who weren't directly relevant to the central tragedy.
Summerscale makes a good case for arguing that the very particular circumstances of the boy's childhood & early adolescence led him to his crime, & demonstrates clearly how, with a level of care from Broadmoor I found very surprising, he was enabled to make a good, brave, honourable life afterwards. I was rooting for him - & wished he had been spared his early experiences.
The book has a particular resonance for me as a local youngster who attended my children's school is due to go on trial for murder. It makes me ask why, more than a century on from this horror, we are seemingly so powerless, or unwilling, to intervene in the home lives of some really very desperate children to stop more tragedies being played out.
Summerscale makes a good case for arguing that the very particular circumstances of the boy's childhood & early adolescence led him to his crime, & demonstrates clearly how, with a level of care from Broadmoor I found very surprising, he was enabled to make a good, brave, honourable life afterwards. I was rooting for him - & wished he had been spared his early experiences.
The book has a particular resonance for me as a local youngster who attended my children's school is due to go on trial for murder. It makes me ask why, more than a century on from this horror, we are seemingly so powerless, or unwilling, to intervene in the home lives of some really very desperate children to stop more tragedies being played out.
In the same vein as The Devil in the White City but lacks Erik Larson’s storytelling ability.
Back in 2008 I posted a review stating why [b:The Suspicions of Mr. Whicher: A Shocking Murder and the Undoing of a Great Victorian Detective|1747896|The Suspicions of Mr. Whicher|Kate Summerscale|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1312021413l/1747896._SY75_.jpg|3254095] was a perfect book for me. I loved The Wicked Boy as much if not more.
Other reviewers have eloquently summarised the main points of the story of Robert Coombes' crime and life thereafter. His was indeed an interesting life. But this book is much more than a simple biography or true crime story.
First, it is painstakingly researched with a wealth of detail. Summerscale sidetracks constantly, telling us often minute details of the lives of the many, many people involved in Coombes' story. In the process she builds an intimate picture of life at the end of the 19th and turn of the 20th century, through little details about ordinary people that reveal not just events, but the life and values of Coombes' contemporaries. Here's an example:
"The coroner was [...]. His most recent case...was an enquiry into a series of deaths at the East Ham sewage works. On 1 July an employee at the sewage pumping station had become dizzy with fumes as he climbed down a ladder into a well; he lost his balance and fell in. One of his workmates descended the ladder to try to help, but collapsed and fell into the pit as the sewer gases overtook him; three more men attempted rescues, and every one fainted and fell. All five drowned in the filth at the bottom of the well."
It's one short paragraph that is an aside to the mention of the name of the coroner. The account is dry and factual, and yet the tragedy of the event is vivid. The valour and selflessness of these workers shines through, as one man after another falls and dies while attempting to save his workmates, even though each must have realised the danger to himself.
The book is packed with fascinating stories told like this, alongside the main thread. Moreover, the author frequently returns to these side stories to recount subsequent events, giving a sense of continuity.
The other aspect of the book I loved are the references to the evolving psychological theories through Coombes' life; the different theories around criminal motivation, the blame placed on penny dreadfuls (as today it is placed on computer games), the psychological reasons for different inmates being committed to Broadmoor, and the approaches of the different wardens during Coombes' 17 years as an inmate. That institution - which I had always thought to be a terrifying, vicious place, is revealed as quite other than its popular reputation would have us believe. (I read a lot of books about psychology and this one confirms my suspicion that despite all our knowledge about the workings of our brains, we are as ignorant today of the workings of the human mind as we were 120 years ago.)
And finally, there is the writing style. I could read nothing but Kate Summerscale for a year and never tire of it. It is dry, unsensational, factual and yet a deep humanity is in evidence in every page. Without drama or overt emotion, there is nonetheless a distinct poignancy. The world depicted by Summerscale is peopled not with angels and monsters, but with all-too-human, frail and vulnerable, mean and weak, but also kind and brave, children, men and women.
This is a story of a child's crime. But it is also a story of the evil and hurt that many people have to live through. It is a story of pain, but also of transcendance and redemption.
In short, it's a beautiful work, and one that will stay with me.
Thanks to Penguin Press for sending me an advance copy of this book.
Like this review? Why not check out my book review site: BelEdit Book Reviews?
Other reviewers have eloquently summarised the main points of the story of Robert Coombes' crime and life thereafter. His was indeed an interesting life. But this book is much more than a simple biography or true crime story.
First, it is painstakingly researched with a wealth of detail. Summerscale sidetracks constantly, telling us often minute details of the lives of the many, many people involved in Coombes' story. In the process she builds an intimate picture of life at the end of the 19th and turn of the 20th century, through little details about ordinary people that reveal not just events, but the life and values of Coombes' contemporaries. Here's an example:
"The coroner was [...]. His most recent case...was an enquiry into a series of deaths at the East Ham sewage works. On 1 July an employee at the sewage pumping station had become dizzy with fumes as he climbed down a ladder into a well; he lost his balance and fell in. One of his workmates descended the ladder to try to help, but collapsed and fell into the pit as the sewer gases overtook him; three more men attempted rescues, and every one fainted and fell. All five drowned in the filth at the bottom of the well."
It's one short paragraph that is an aside to the mention of the name of the coroner. The account is dry and factual, and yet the tragedy of the event is vivid. The valour and selflessness of these workers shines through, as one man after another falls and dies while attempting to save his workmates, even though each must have realised the danger to himself.
The book is packed with fascinating stories told like this, alongside the main thread. Moreover, the author frequently returns to these side stories to recount subsequent events, giving a sense of continuity.
The other aspect of the book I loved are the references to the evolving psychological theories through Coombes' life; the different theories around criminal motivation, the blame placed on penny dreadfuls (as today it is placed on computer games), the psychological reasons for different inmates being committed to Broadmoor, and the approaches of the different wardens during Coombes' 17 years as an inmate. That institution - which I had always thought to be a terrifying, vicious place, is revealed as quite other than its popular reputation would have us believe. (I read a lot of books about psychology and this one confirms my suspicion that despite all our knowledge about the workings of our brains, we are as ignorant today of the workings of the human mind as we were 120 years ago.)
And finally, there is the writing style. I could read nothing but Kate Summerscale for a year and never tire of it. It is dry, unsensational, factual and yet a deep humanity is in evidence in every page. Without drama or overt emotion, there is nonetheless a distinct poignancy. The world depicted by Summerscale is peopled not with angels and monsters, but with all-too-human, frail and vulnerable, mean and weak, but also kind and brave, children, men and women.
This is a story of a child's crime. But it is also a story of the evil and hurt that many people have to live through. It is a story of pain, but also of transcendance and redemption.
In short, it's a beautiful work, and one that will stay with me.
Thanks to Penguin Press for sending me an advance copy of this book.
Like this review? Why not check out my book review site: BelEdit Book Reviews?