Manslaughter Park Review

 

This will be my final review for the trilogy of Tirzah Price's Jane Austen Murder Mysteries--this time focusing on Manslaughter Park by Tirzah Price (based on Mansfield Park). 

In case you missed my reviews of the other books in the series--Pride & Premeditation (based on Pride & Prejudice) found here and Sense & Second Degree Murder (based on Sense & Sensibility) found here; the author describes the trilogy as "a series of standalone mystery retellings of Jane Austen’s beloved classics, by way of Agatha Christie". Apparently you can read them out of order, but I chose to read them in chronological order. 

As I've said before, while I am familiar with Jane Austen's work, I'm not a purist. I don't mind if adaptations stray from the original works, as long as they continue to explore or expand on the themes from the original stories and some of the characters are at least somewhat recognizable.

The plot summary is as follows: "Aspiring artist Fanny Price is an unwelcome guest at her uncle Sir Thomas Bertram’s estate. It’s his affection for Fanny that’s keeping her from being forced out by her cousins Tom and Maria and nasty Aunt Norris, back to a home to which she never wants to return. But then Sir Thomas dies in a tragic accident inside his art emporium, and Fanny finds evidence of foul play that, if revealed, could further jeopardize her already precarious position. Edmund, her best friend and secret crush, urges Fanny to keep quiet about her discovery, but Fanny can’t ignore the truth: a murderer is among them. Determined to find the killer, Fanny’s pursuit for justice has her wading into the Bertram family business, uncovering blackmail, and brushing with London’s high society when Henry and Mary Crawford arrive at Mansfield Park with an audacious business proposal. But a surprising twist of fate—and the help of local legends Lizzie Bennett and Fitzwilliam Darcy—brings Fanny more complications than she ever expected and a life-altering realization about herself she never saw coming." 

 

WARNING: SPOILERS AHEAD

This is gonna be a long one, folks.

I said in my previous posts that Price's decision to set her trilogy in their original time period, while often ignoring societal rules for said time period, while also relying on said rules every so often in order to move the plot along, added confusing and contradictory elements to the previous books, most notably during the first. This is true for the third book as well, but it has a unique time-period issue that the others don't have: how the characters and the world around them reacts to same-sex relationships. In this novel, at least four characters are queer--two men in a relationship, a bisexual woman, and a lesbian woman. 

As a straight woman, I can't judge the accuracy of the queer experience, especially one written by a queer author. What I can do, however, is judge characterization and plot, both of which are affected by a character's queerness. 

Generally, authors must make a choice when writing queer characters within in a historical fiction novel: to maintain historical accuracy, or not. To be clear, the accuracy does not affect the existence of queer characters--they have always existed in every time and place, and always will. For Mansfield Park, the characters are operating within a combination of time period, country, family dynamic, and social class that would fall under the homophobic category. Therefore, Price had the same choice to make--to maintain that historical accuracy, or to create a world for her characters where homophobia doesn't exist. Either choice could have been a bad or a good one depending on the execution, but each comes with its own caveats. Historically accurate homophobia in a story can lend itself to conflict, urgency, suspense, and underlying motivations for difficult choices; but it can also negatively affect the mood/tone, morph into trauma porn, or contribute to harmful stereotypes. Bucking historical accuracy in favor of celebrating queerness can be a liberating or validating choice, but often requires a strong validation for setting the book in the time period at all, as well more explanation for the reader as to what other elements also align with the chosen time period and which don't (increasing the risk of self-contradiction). Unfortunately, the author falls into the same trap regarding historical accuracy as in the previous books by vacillating between the two options. 

In some moments, it seems as if we are in a world where queerness is not a shocking matter: Fanny catches Tom and Yates kissing but is more embarrassed that she witnessed an intimate moment than scandalized, as you'd assume a sheltered person in a homophobic society would be. Similarly, her own burgeoning attraction to Mary--the first time she's ever felt anything for a woman--does not invite any dismay, inner conflict (as she begins the story with an all-consuming crush on Edmund), or even any soul-searching. Her queer awakening never materializes, despite the story insisting that she's never known queerness even existed before. 

SIDEBAR: Part of this is because Fanny's inner voice is incredibly underwritten, relying heavily on repetitive, inane questions like "Why would that person not want me to investigate this clue?" "That person lied about what they were doing--could they be hiding something?" "How could you sell a piece of art twice? Surely it couldn't be related to my replica practice?" So, also a craft issue. But nonetheless. 

Price then swings the other way when historically accurate homophobia is of some use to her, attempting to leverage it for tension's sake. Yet, she is inconsistent in this as well. When Mary fears that she has misread Fanny's romantic interest only to be rejected, there is no terror surrounding what would happen if Fanny told someone Mary made a pass at her; yet Tom & Yates keep their relationship a secret out of fear of going to prison for homosexuality. Fanny's brother is both unsurprised and unbothered by Fanny's love for Mary, yet Edmund threatens to out Mary because the consequences of anyone finding out about her sexuality would be institutionalization in an asylum. 

The author does display one area of consistency: the flip-flopping in historical accuracy extends to social propriety mistakes, as seen in the precious installments. Lizzie and Darcy make several cameos as an unchaperoned couple despite not being married; yet Maria is openly judged by everyone for flirting with Henry and going off with him alone. Wildly, Maria sneaking off with Henry to her bedroom is treated as less of a smoking gun than Henry accidentally using her informal Christian name in mixed company. 

What is perhaps the most egregious error in Manslaughter Park, however, is that despite its massive potential, it is a complete failure of a retelling. The plot is predictable and moves at a snail's pace, the characters are not even shadows of their blueprints, the romance was meh, and the overarching theme of Mansfield Park was entirely abandoned. The most interesting thing about it is the title.

In the previous novels, Price generally maintained relationships between certain characters, and the moral alignment of the characters remained true to the source material. For the final installment, she takes a different tack--not only is the plot very different, Fanny's love interest is Mary, instead of Edmund. Based on the Goodreads reviews, this decision had mixed results with audiences--some cheered the inclusion of a queer romance in an Austen-based novel, whereas others found it too much of a deviation from the original (and of course there were also some homophobes in the chat). For me, the decision to make Fanny queer wasn't a problem; but I did have a problem with the execution, as well as the chosen love interest. 

Before I make my points on that matter, let's build our case: a queer person herself, Price spoke to Them magazine about Manslaughter Park and revealed some interesting details. First of all, she confirmed that the trilogy had sold as such--this was not a one book deal that led to sequels based on how well the first was received; however, she also confirms that she had NOT fleshed out three retelling ideas when the book deal was finalized: 

"I knew that I wanted to make at least one of these retellings queer, but I wasn’t sure which one until I was watching the 1999 movie retelling with Frances O’Connor. This was back when I was still writing Pride and Premeditation. There is one scene in [that] version where Fanny and Mary have off-the-charts chemistry and I sat up and thought, “Oh, this is something.” From that moment, I wanted Fanny to be at least bisexual, but I was honestly not sure if my publisher would go for it. [...] When talking with my editor about Manslaughter Park before I started drafting —the books sold as a three-book deal — she actually beat me to the punch by suggesting we queer up this book, and I was so happy to agree. I think that there’s a lot in the original that lends itself to a queer retelling. So many women I know realized they were queer because of intense, confusing friendships with other women —that old “do I want to be like her or do I want to kiss her?” conundrum —and I think the dynamics between Fanny and Mary are so fascinating. They don’t see eye-to-eye on many things, and yet there isn’t that cattiness of Caroline Bingley in her. Sometimes both Crawfords get cast as antagonists in Mansfield Park, but I don’t think Mary is an antagonist at all, and making Fanny and Mary overtly queer with feelings for each other was a fun way to explore the interesting dynamic from the original book." 

    

This confirms two important details--that Price and her publisher were intending to produce a queer retelling for the third installment no matter what, and that the author's interest doing so specifically for Mansfield Park was based on the chemistry between Mary and Fanny in what is generally considered to be a relatively faithful film adaptation. So, now that we understand what she was trying to do, based on her own words, we can measure that against the product and make our judgments. 

To me, the first detail gives the impression that the author and/or her publisher applied their intention of writing a queer romance by looking at Austen's work through the lens of what they could 'queer up'--in the alleged words of the publisher, per Price--in order to find a "good fit", rather than being inspired by the source material first. This is puzzling to me, firstly because Fanny is considered a very popular candidate for queer reimagining within the Janeite canon, and secondly because instead of taking inspiration from the "interesting dynamic" between Mary and Fanny as mentioned in the interview, the author invents a bland and boring romance between two characters that are completely unrecognizable. 

Fanny is no longer pious, nor makes decisions based on a strict adherence to morality. Mary is portrayed as a sweet, friendly angel instead of a manipulative and mysterious frenemy. This is a widespread problem that affects almost all the characters, of course: Edmund is a mustache-twirling villain who is just as selfish as the rest of the Bertrams, and ten times as unscrupulous; Henry Crawford's seductiveness and complexity are erased--once the rogue toeing the line between villainy and antiheroism, in this adaptation, his character is tertiary at best. The story is effectively a character assassination on everyone except perhaps Mary, although she loses all her spice and intrigue in her transformation to milquetoast perfection. It is incredibly strange that the author would mention how Mary and Fanny intrigue her because "They don’t see eye-to-eye on many things, and yet there isn’t that cattiness of Caroline Bingley in [Mary]" and then eliminate those very elements in their dynamic that captured her attention in the first place. Like, if you're going to lean into the chemistry, turn up the heat--don't click off the burner and then wonder why it all went cold. 

It's sad, because there was a ton of potential in the idea of a queer Mansfield. And I have to wonder if the author chose to rewrite everything so heavily because she holds contempt for the original. Her foreward, "For everyone who believes Fanny Price deserved better", implies as such. The shy, dutiful, observant Fanny who is constantly victimized yet strong in her convictions may be different than Lizzie Bennet or Emma Woodhouse, but she is still a heroine. 

To be honest, I think pairing her up with Mary is not necessarily the best choice in general, although I think it could have been more successful had the author stuck more closely to the original dynamic between the characters. Textually, Mary and Fanny appear on the outside to be opposites--worldly and charismatic v. sensible and plain--because they represent two different ways of approaching the same situation. Their friendship is fragile but not entirely insincere on Mary's end because deep down, they can relate to one another's circumstances. Both are poor and disenfranchised, but Mary relies on manipulation for survival; she is not a bad person but she is someone who looks out for herself first and foremost. Fanny, on the other hand, always commits to the moral decision even when it contributes to her suffering. Her love for Edmund is selfless and true; she does not care for his money and the two of them are compatible in a way that is validating to her. By loving Edmund, Fanny is able to love herself, despite living in a world where everyone else tells her she is unloveable. Mary's seduction of Edmund (and Henry's attempted seduction of Fanny) represents the allure of selfishness and self-servitude--and it must be said that even when enchanted by Mary, at no point does Edmund completely abandon Fanny, the representation of righteousness and piety. When Edmund chooses Fanny, by choosing her he also chooses his dream of entering the clergy and deviating from the selfishness of his family. Fanny finally gets her dream of a family, of being cherished and rewarded for her steadfastness. Mary and Fanny's tumultuous friendship is interesting; but even written true to the characters, I suspect it would struggle to carry that interest beyond the point of flirtation, because the ultimate triumph for Fanny is her happy ending with Edmund. 

But that doesn't mean a queer retelling has to be off the table. Why didn't the author consider gender-bending Edmund into a female character? Perhaps Edmund is Edie, who never realized she was in love with Fanny because she wasn't aware of her sexuality (leaving Fanny to pine wistfully for her), and then the attempted seduction by Mary was the catalyst for her realizing her feelings for Fanny were romantic after all. Couldn't they fit the author's "do I want to be like her or do I want to kiss her conundrum" just as well? Perhaps Edmund is a transwoman or nonbinary, and their bond with Fanny is built upon Fanny being accepting and trustworthy about keeping their secret (so they can still inherit). Maybe they have this in common, and independently pursue their gender identity journeys. Maybe Fanny is trans or nonbinary and Edmund is cis, and Fanny's gender identity is known by the family who use it to to ridicule Fanny, whereas Edmund shows Fanny kindness. Maybe Fanny is still bisexual, has some kind of dalliance with Mary, but ends up with Edmund in the end, because bisexual women who end up with men are just as valid as those who end up with women. Maybe Edmund is bisexual as well. It would be especially interesting (and extremely easy) to write a version of Fanny's story exploring her as a demisexual or asexual person. Maybe Henry, Maria, and Rory end up in a polycule. THERE WERE OPTIONS, PEOPLE. 

Or, y'know, we could've just done the Mary x Fanny thing but done a good job this time. Not my personal favorite, but a lot of people would have gone for it. 

Whew. Glad I got that off my chest. I usually include good points for the books I read, but honestly there was nothing redeeming about it, so let's just do a quick summary of the other issues I had:

- Mary is involved in her brother's schemes (and well aware of what exactly he is doing), yet while he is punished for his crimes, she gets off scot-free and is maintained as being the picture of goodness? 

- You'd think that by shifting from the previous issue of the characters having the same names and moral alignments despite the change in plot, making it extremely obvious who is "good" and who is "bad", that the villain reveal would be a twist. It is not. I distinctly remember telling my sister "I hate to say it but I think Edmund is good for it" by the first chapter. He came into the scene of the crime from a different door than everyone else, for goodness' sake! The situation is worsened by the author putting in far too many moments where Edmund inhibits Fanny's investigative progress (not that she'd be successful anyway but still), reveals information he shouldn't to people he shouldn't, or acts strange enough to warrant Fanny's notice but miraculously, not her suspicion. How many times can a main character think to themselves, "Why is Edmund doing that? Doesn't he want this case solved?" before the reality becomes obvious to the reader?

- Related to the above point: It's a shame that instead of working with what she had already set up as potential motivation for Edmund's murderous activities, the author chose to go "insane, creepy, bad bad bad guy". There was some complexity introduced early on, like his feeling that he didn't belong with the Bertrams, being stifled from pursuing his dreams, the frustration over his uncle dipping into his inheritance without permission, and his belief that they were terrible so they deserved bad things to happen to them. If his villain arc had culminated in his actually being in love with Fanny (instead of wanting to marry her for...evil fun I guess?) and refusing to take her no for an answer/believing he could force her to love him back, that would have been far more interesting and a cool reference to Henry Crawford's arc in the original. Alas, the author went with the a boring, flat answer of "he's just evil, okay."

- It doesn't help that the mystery itself is boring and predictable, so there's no choice of dramatic irony where the readers know what's happened but we're wondering how Fanny will put the pieces together. Art theft + forgery was incredibly obvious from the beginning, yet it takes us 2/3 of the book to even suggest it. The pacing is sooooo slow, and while that works for the original novel, it really doesn't work here. 

- This is the third time in this series the main lead doing the investigating has been terrible at it, but Fanny is exceptionally bad. Every scene where she is searching for clues ends the same way--she hides, but gets caught by someone. Several times she only manages to discover something irrelevant to the case, or relevant evidence is then destroyed because she got caught. 

-I also heavily question why Lizzie would suggest Fanny investigate knowing it will put her in danger (and we know she's aware, since she keeps telling her to be careful) after the same tactic got a maid brutally murdered in the first book. Wasn't that supposed to be a character defining moment for you, Lizzie? Wasn't that the point where you realized your actions have consequences? WHY ARE YOU MAKING THE SAME MISTAKE NOW?

- Mrs. Norris is not as dastardly nor as big of a player as one would expect. 

- The author claims in her author's note to sympathize with Maria and says that she allowed that sympathy to affect how she wrote her situation; but it really didn't come across on the page. Maria is depicted as selfish, spiteful, and mean with little nuance for her situation. 

- There were a least two points where the aha moment involved a background character's name ("Tom So-and-So? But that's the same name as the guy who blah blah blah!"). Maybe it was because I hated the book and so details weren't sticking, but I am 75% sure neither of those names had been mentioned previously. I don't know if it was an editing mistake, or if I just missed the first time we'd heard them, but it happened twice, so make of that what you will. 

I've got to stop before I give myself a conniption. Overall, I'd give this book 1/5 stars as a murder mystery, and a 0/5 as a retelling. 

If you want a GOOD Mansfield retelling with queer representation, I recommend the webseries From Mansfield, With Love--although not perfect, this modern-day adaptation is so charming and puts a heartwarming spin on the original.