“Oh, to be engulfed with the poetic flow of words as in a Dickens' novel” – the catchy phrase at the front cover of a book attracted my attention. As a big fan of the mentioned writer, I couldn’t resist temptation of finding out who was the author they dared comparing to one of the best novelist ever. Michel Faber… never heard of him. I curiously read the first page and immediately recognized the well-known style of writing that had made Dickens famous. It was my first step into the nineteenth century London and a start of a journey I didn’t want to end through all the 857 pages when reading The Crimson Petal and the White.
The scene of the novel is not the metropolis we know from tourist folders, but the spider's web of dirty Victorian streets. That is where we meet Sugar – a young prostitute of average looks who, thanks to a perfect knowledge of men, remarkable intelligence and (extraordinary for one of her profession) a love of books, manages to enchant a family-business owner, William Rackham. He is a dreamer, who lacks the know-how of the industry and has no interest in perfume-making. She becomes his mistress at first, but gradually gets more-and-more involved in the arcana of his business. With time, not only does she run the company to its fullest potential from behind the scenes, but also moves into his mansion and becomes an exceptional teacher and nanny to his unloved daughter. Thanks to her cleverness, help and inspiration, William becomes financially profitable and acknowledged by High Society.
Unfortunately, as they say, no good deed goes unpunished. Using a wide range of stylistic tools, Faber touches all the senses of a reader, who surrounded by the cacophony of colours, smells and sounds has no other choice but to give in to the atmosphere and harsh reality of double standards in the nineteen century. Step by step the author outlines the first draft of the story, then sharpens the contours, only to provide the final momentum in the form of...