A Return to Old New York: The Wharton Plot, by Mariah Fredericks
In this novel, the redoubtable Edith Wharton involves herself in the investigation of the murder of David Graham Phillips a fellow author. Wharton had only met Phillips once; on that occasion, she’d found him rather insufferably full of himself. Nevertheless, she gets drawn in to the inquiry.
Fredericks does a wonderful job of recreating New York City circa 1910. Edith and her husband, the hapless Teddy, have taken rooms in the fashionable Belmont Hotel. Henry James, her friend and colleague, is staying there also. She seeks his advice from time to time, but he’s rather elderly and distracted at that point in time, and also grieving the loss of his brother, the distinguished professor and powerful intellect William James.
There’s a delightful scene early in the narrative in which Edith, walking past a bookstore, is irritated by the sight of the mysteries of Mary Roberts Rinehart prominently displayed in the window, while her own work is nowhere to be seen! (Later on, she phones Rinehart to ask for some advice regarding the solving of murders.)
If you’re getting the impression that I found the actual mystery to be the least compelling aspect of The Wharton Plot – well, you’d be right! Also, I must admit that the casting of historical personages in crime fiction is a trend that I’m rather wary of. But I think Fredericks really makes it work here.
I’m not all that widely read in Edith Wharton’s oeuvre, but I have read – and loved – The House of Mirth and The Age of Innocence. Reading The Wharton Plot made me want to return to her works. I have therefore embarked on a collection of her ghost stories published by New York Review Books. It is simply entitled Ghosts. I’m about half way through it at this point. Th stories range from good to great; ‘great’ would definitely apply to “All Souls,” the first tale in the collection.
While I’m at it, I’d like to recommend The Circular Staircase by Mary Roberts Rinehart, available on Kindle Unlimited for $0.00. For a mystery written in 1908, it’s surprisingly readable and quite engaging.
Books to the Ceiling 