True Crime Studies: “Murder, Magic, Madness” recounts a very strange crime in a very strange time
Penned by Owen Davies, a historian on modern and contemporary witchcraft, Murder, Magic, Madness: The Victorian Trials of Dove and the Wizard is the perfect book for anyone that lives for the cold hard facts. That’s primarily what this book is. There are no real theories or opinions or deep psychological analysis. Everything recounted in Murder, Magic, Madness is documented in history and told with about as much charisma as a technical manual. Not saying that the book is bad, or boring, only that it feels a bit like an Encyclopedia.
I am impressed with the amount of information that Davies gives though. There’s very little detail about this crime available, which means Davies must have worked mega hard on his research. It’s admirable, the amount that he shares, but it’s a shame that he writes it with such frankness.
In 1850s England, in a time when people were living between magic and science, there was a man named William Dove who murdered his wife Harriet, and he wasn’t at all discreet about it. Dove was an interesting fellow. Raised by devout Methodists that dotted on him, William was a true problem child that grew into an even more difficult adult.
Although there weren’t many proper diagnoses available during this time, it’s possible that the man had both a mental illness and a learning disability. He had violent mood swings that came without warning and seemed incapable of grasping a concept if too complicated. The author assumes he had Type 1 Bipolar Disorder and the theory certainly matches up with Dove’s many symptoms.
Dove struggled through adulthood, until one day, he meets a woman who falls in love with him. A strange woman with a presumably equally unpredictable temper named Harriet, and these two had a strange marriage. Of course, none of their home life is discussed in great detail but pieced together through first-hand accounts. House servants, neighbors, and friends who all describe the relationship as being like that of Frank and Monica from Shameless. A mix between extremely happy, extremely sad, childlike puppy love and violent explosions, up until the day that Dove decided to kill her.
Cunning Folk
The beginning of Dove’s demise started with Henry Harrison, a cunning-folk, and a real do**hebag. Cunning-folk were “professional” practitioners of magic in Britain. They were basically fortune-tellers and fake wizards that called themselves doctors. Obviously, most were frauds. The ones that weren’t could just be called herbalists. They were popular during a time when science was getting difficult to swallow and a lot of people found comfort in magic. Life was hard and, like religion, magic let people hold on to the belief that they held some kind of power over their life.
Davies actually wrote another book all about cunning-folk titled Popular Magic: Cunning-folk in English History so if you ever want to know more you can check that out.
Harrison was a cunning-folk who lived near the Dove’s and quickly became a person of great fascination for William. According to Murder, Magic, Madness, cunning-folk were often used to track down stolen possessions, which is how the two men supposedly met. Dove was mighty impressed with Harrison’s “skills” and started seeing him for other problems which included domestic issues, particularly involving his wife.
It was technically Harrison’s idea to kill her, but Dove needed no persuasion to go along with the plan. To get him on board, Harrison promised Dove that after Harriet died, fate would see him remarry a new wife who would not only be more beautiful but also rich. Harriet wasn’t exactly a “Stepford Wife”. She talked back, had a temper, and fought her husband’s raging alcoholism. So hearing that he was soon due a new and younger wife, Dove spurred into action and he slowly started the process of poisoning Harriet with strychnine.
Immediately after she got sick, he proceeded to go around the town and make sure he looked as guilty as humanly possible. I’m going to be honest, this whole section of the book had me in hysterics. The things Dove did to make sure he wouldn’t be suspected could’ve made it on the list for the world’s dumbest criminals. It took several days for Harriet to die, as he would give her numerous doses of poison, but every time she showed signs of improvement, Dove would straight up tell people she was going to die. Her doctors and friends came to check-in, and cheer at the color returned to her cheeks, only for Dove to walk in the room and just start talking about funeral arrangements. He even went to the coroner, or the equivalent of one back then, and ask if there was any chance that an autopsy wouldn’t be performed on Harriet.
You’d almost think he was trying to get caught, or maybe he was just that stupid. By the time someone suspected something it was too late. Harriet was dead and it wasn’t an easy passing. She clearly suffered and Dove never got this new wife he was promised. Instead he got shackled and carried off to the jailhouse.
I have my own theory about why Harrison suddenly suggested that Harriet be killed and it involved the custody of a walking stick. Harriet and Harrison made no attempts to hide their apparent distaste for one another but it was only after Dove decided to gift his wizard friend his own personal walking stick that the relationship turned dangerously sour. When Harriet found out her husband gave his walking stick away to a quack she demanded he that get it back. She even went over to Harrison’s house to forcibly reclaim it. Eventually, she succeeded and Dove got his stick back, but not before Harrison carved his initials into the handle. Almost immediately after this dispute is when the plan to kill Harriet started taking form. Meaning there’s a strong chance Harrison made the suggestion all out of spite. Don’t come between two men and their gift exchange.
Trial and aftermath
I’m actually shocked by how thin Murder, Magic, Madness is considering how jammed back it is. It crams in as much as it can in under 300 pages and a lot of it has to do with the murder trial. This takes up most of the book, which might be why I often found myself bored with it. I hate everything about court. One of the reasons why I can never finish a John Grisham novel.
Most of the court sections feel like a transcript; “characters” pop in one after another, every defense and every argument is summed up to its bare minimum, letters written by Dove are presented as well as statements made by witnesses. There’s the introduction of the insanity defense which just introduces several passages of experts arguing over Dove’s mental state with some claiming he was totally deranged and others assuming he was mentally handicapped. It was a “moral insanity” versus “moral idiocy” debate with a few crying out “inborn imbecility.”
It doesn’t end there though. Midway through the trial, Dove attempted a deal with the Devil that he just stole word for word from Goethe’s rewrite of Christopher Marlowe’s play The Tragical History of Doctor Faustus. It’s probably the weirdest detail of this story, right along with that walking stick. In the end, Dove was declared guilty and sentenced to hang. Harrison was then tracked down and charged for a multitude of offenses after his past was dug up and people discovered his many past deeds.
No one remembers William Dove today, nor Henry Harrison, but they definitely had an impact on history. Harrison caused a surging fear of intellects while Dove created a reluctant acknowledgment of insanity in relation to crime among the middle and upper class. Why Dove did what he did is never 100% understood as it’s a crime that happened 164 years ago and despite his eagerness to get Harriet out of the picture, I personally got the feeling that Dove wasn’t completely aware of the fact that poisoning Harriet would have resulted in a dead wife. There was a theory that he really believed Harrison’s prediction about Harriet’s death and that by poisoning her he was only speeding up fate.
Either way, Murder, Magic, Madness is a big court transcript sandwiched between two history lectures. Slightly boring, a bit monotone, but you’ll come away with a new look at the evolution of crime. Especially the change in shock value. Two quotes from two newspapers of that time: “This miserable story of folly and of crime goes beyond the boundaries even of fiction”- Western Flying Post, and “…a stranger story than his never passed human lips”- The Leeds Times. Imagine how scandalized they’d be if they could see some of the murder cases going on today.
(3 / 5)
Book Reviews
Review: Don’t Eat the Pie, Monique Asher’s delicious trope fest.
“Real monsters are people, and I’ve seen them”
Published in September 2024, Don’t Eat the Pie is a debut novel from author Monique Asher. Reminiscent of Rosemary’s Baby, this story delivers on so many tropes it is doubtful that anyone will not find something to like within its pages. It is not only tropes that Asher has gone to town with. Don’t Eat the Pie is also a mishmash of horror sub-genres that somehow works without being obvious. Southern gothic, supernatural, cult, body horror; it’s all served up here.
The Plot.
Newlyweds Sam and Ben’s idyllic honeymoon is cut short when Ben’s elderly mother, Nadine, suffers a fall. The couple and Sam’s teenage daughter, Emma, relocate to Ben’s childhood home to care for her.
Ben’s mother, lives on the exclusive Camillia Island. A secluded haven of wealth and privilege, accessible only by a creaky drawbridge. Things are smooth at first but both mother and daughter begin to notice some peculiar occurrences: mysterious men in pink shirts, overheard whispers, and a strange aftertaste from a seemingly innocent dessert.
As the days pass, the island’s tranquillity is shattered by increasingly bizarre events. The once-familiar landscape transforms transforms and the true identities of the island’s residents remain shrouded in secrecy. Sam and Emma find themselves entangled in a web of intrigue, questioning their own connection to the island’s dark past. As the stakes rise, Sam and Emma must uncover the truth about Camillia Island and its inhabitants before it’s too late.
Highlights.
The way Asher has built this plot is genius. The abundance of tropes might leave readers assuming predictability. However, red herrings sprinkled throughout the chapters will leave you guessing but never quite certain who is friend and who is foe until the final chapters.
The way that Asher depicts the natural elements on Camillia Island is also worth mentioning as a highlight. Nature plays a big role in this plot and I confidently say that it is a character in its own right. It is not only the ubiquitous snakes and crows encroaching on the inhabited spaces that lend a sinister feeling. The descriptions of the ocean surrounding the island, the vines and flowers that grow around the houses and even the scents permeating the breeze all combine to create a single force that drives the plot to its conclusion.
Drawbacks.
Don’t Eat the Pie is told through the alternating points of view of Samantha and her daughter Emma. This has become a popular way to narrate a story and I understand that it gives the writer a way to reveal information to the reader while still keeping specific characters in the dark. The problem is that if the voices are not distinct enough it can become confusing to differentiate who is telling the story, even if this is specified at the beginning of each chapter. This was the problem I encountered; Sam and Emma are so similar that I spent a lot of time turning back to the chapter headings to check who was telling the story at each point.
The Final Take.
I loved this story.
Don’t Eat the Pie has something for every horror reader. A Southern gothic, supernatural, occult, familicide, body horror… I could go on.
This was so close to the 5 out of 5 rating. It only missed out due to the alternating points of view causing some confusion because they were too similar.
(4.5 / 5)
After her 2017 debut novel, If We Were Villains, captivated readers and skyrocketed to Tik Tok fame readers have been holding their collective breath for anything from M. L. Rio. Seven years later we are presented with Graveyard Shift, another dark academic horror, though a novella this time around. The question is, was it worth the wait and why are readers split in their reactions to this story?
The Plot.
In the opening scene of Graveyard Shift readers encounter five people who often meet in a graveyard on smoke breaks from their various nocturnal jobs.
On the night in question, they discover a freshly dug hole near where they regularly gather. This sounds unremarkable until they realize that no one has been interred in this graveyard for over one hundred years. With the mystery revealed each character returns to their night, each eager to find the purpose of the hole.
Highlights.
Writing a novella that includes the viewpoints of five main characters is a considerable feat. Despite allowing only two chapters for each character in the entire story M. L. Rio successfully juggles these viewpoints without dropping any balls. From the driven editor-in-chief Edie Wu to the enigmatic Tuck. Each character possesses a distinct voice and plays a crucial role in unraveling the mystery. Whether it’s the insomniac ride-share driver Hannah or the bartender at Rocker Box. Each character stands apart, making this novella a compelling read.
Another highlight of this novella is that this is not just another horror novel claiming to be dark academia because it’s set in or near a university. This story is soaked in the academic and the dark side of medical research.
Drawbacks.
The length of this story really went against M. L. Rio, there was so much expectation and hype around its release that when the 100-odd-page story was delivered there were many sighs of disappointment.
And it is not just reader expectation that caused the length to work against her. It must be said that the complexity of the story and the depth that Rio goes to to set up each character would have benefited from being rounded out by another, let’s say 200 pages. The last chapters seem rushed and the ending is ambiguous to say the least, but not in a good way.
I read this on a Kindle and was confused by the story ending at 85%, then slightly angry that the remaining pages were filled by a playlist, an excerpt of If We Were Villains and cocktail recipes??? Although I usually enjoy this type of extra content in fiction, I think Rio’s time might have been better spent writing a few more chapters.
The Final Take.
I approached Graveyard Shift with high expectations, but was ultimately disappointed. While the novel’s form, with its focus on multiple perspectives, initially drew me in, the abrupt and unsatisfying conclusion left me wanting more. Presenting this story as a novella did not do justice to the characters of the story. The mystery of the empty grave was intriguing, and following each character through their nocturnal routines was enjoyable. However, the rushed ending undermined the overall experience.
(2 / 5)
You can’t beat a good old haunted house story. One of the classic tropes of the genre, it allows for some old-school spooks while providing some character development. Now dress it up in a new generation suit and you get something completely different. How does Haven measure up as an addition to the trope? Let’s find out!
Plot
We start the story with a family of four headed on a month-long holiday at a distant relative’s mansion. We have Jeff, the ever-so-average husband, Jenna, the thriller-reading health nut wife. The kids are JJ, the loner gamer son with a passion for swimming, and Jessie, the social media addict with severe insecurities.
I would say that personally, their dynamic was the most interesting and promising part of the novel. It’s clear from the get-go that Jeff and Jenna are trying against all odds to preserve the American Dream. Except right away there is resentment bubbling underneath. Jeff is a pretentious asshole who thinks Jenna’s taste in books is inferior (as a domestic thriller fan I take great offence). Jenna wishes for him to have more career ambition so she can afford the lifestyle she wants. Safe to say there is barely any intimacy between the couple.
When it comes to the kids, both JJ and Jessie feel like an extension of the worst traits of their parents. Jessie’s entire world is social media and her following. For JJ, he is arguably the character with the least development. His main traits are that he hates his family and can’t wait to move out. Oh, and the food.
This is something that I found more discomforting than the horror in the book. Both of the kids have severe food issues, with JJ overeating to the point of obesity while Jessie starves herself and has developed bulimia from the pressure to stay ‘perfect’. The horrifying thing is that neither of the parents notice these things about their kids or if they do, they choose to ignore it.
The haunting in this story is very family-focused. Missing things, Jenna’s harassment, Jeff’s seduction – all these things seem to be specifically catered to break whatever was left of this family unit. Not that it takes much to push them over the edge. This begs the question that whoever is haunting this place is methodical and feeds off their misery.
Gussie’s excerpts break up the pace but personally, I wasn’t as engaged with them as I was with the main story. That being said, I understand its necessity in order to develop the lore.
Writing style
I would say one of my biggest gripes with Haven is not the story itself but rather the way it’s told. The writing style seems like it was trying to adapt to the new times and be tongue-in-cheek. This has varying degrees of success, with some genuinely good nuggets of writing scattered. However, some of it falls flat, especially in the beginning, with the characters doubling down on the points we already knew through the narrative.
Overall thoughts
Haven is a good effort at a haunted house story where there are scarier things than ghosts. It does a good job exploring family dynamics and dealing with negative emotions. The setting is also a strong point of the novel, the house and the forest surrounding it being quite immersive.
As I mentioned, for me the main negative was a bit too try-hard type of writing, although it got better as the book went on. I found the end to be a bit too soft for my liking but it fits with the story. Overall I would still recommend.
(3 / 5)
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