Sugar is not your typical Dickensian waif. When you first meet her in the opening pages of The Crimson Petal and the White, she isn’t some virtuous, wide-eyed girl waiting to be saved by a gentleman. She is a nineteen-year-old prostitute in 1870s London with skin the color of "curdled milk" and a sharp, cynical brain that she uses as a weapon.
Michel Faber spent twenty years writing this book. You can tell. It’s dense, smelly, and incredibly vivid. Most people think they know Victorian historical fiction—corsets, fog, repressed desires, and all that. But Faber flips the script. He doesn’t look at the period through a nostalgic lens. He looks at it through the sewage. Honestly, if you’re looking for a cozy Sunday afternoon read, this might not be it. It’s a 800-plus page behemoth that demands you pay attention to the grit under the fingernails of its characters.
Forget What You Know About Victorian Romances
The book centers on the relationship between Sugar and William Rackham. William is the heir to a perfume empire, though he’s mostly a failure when we first meet him. He’s stuck with a "mad" wife named Agnes and a failing business. Then he meets Sugar.
What makes The Crimson Petal and the White so addictive is the power dynamic. It’s not a love story. Not really. It’s a tactical maneuver. Sugar wants out of the brothel. William wants a muse who doesn’t have religious delusions.
One of the most striking things is how Faber handles the "fallen woman" trope. In 19th-century literature, women like Sugar usually died of consumption or threw themselves off a bridge to satisfy the moral standards of the time. Faber doesn't do that. He gives Sugar agency. She writes a violent, vengeful novel in her spare time where she kills off her clients. It’s meta, it’s dark, and it’s kinda brilliant.
👉 See also: Album Hopes and Fears: Why We Obsess Over Music That Doesn't Exist Yet
The Smell of 1870s London
You can almost smell the pages. Faber describes the "stink of humanity" in a way that makes you want to take a shower. He focuses on the things Victorians tried to hide: the body odors, the stained linens, the reality of menstruation, and the sheer amount of horse manure in the streets.
- The Rackham Perfume Business: There’s a delicious irony here. William makes his fortune selling scents to mask the very filth he walks through to visit Sugar.
- Agnes Rackham’s Illness: Her "madness" is likely a mix of post-partum depression and a complete lack of agency, but the doctors of the time just see a broken woman.
- The Class Divide: The transition from St. Giles (the slums) to the pristine parks of the wealthy is a recurring theme that highlights how thin the veil of "civilization" really was.
Why the Ending Still Upsets People
If you haven't read it yet, be warned: the ending is polarizing. It’s famously ambiguous. Some readers find it incredibly frustrating because Faber refuses to tie everything up in a neat little bow.
But think about the title. The Crimson Petal and the White comes from a Tennyson poem, "Now Sleeps the Crimson Petal, Now the White." It’s about beauty and purity, but in Faber’s hands, it’s about the blood and the pale skin of his protagonist. The ending reflects the messy reality of the era. Life for a woman in 1875 didn’t often have a "happily ever after" unless she was willing to sacrifice every ounce of her soul.
The 2011 BBC miniseries starring Romola Garai and Chris O'Dowd actually did a decent job of capturing this vibe. It kept the grime. It didn't shy away from William's narcissism. If you've seen the show but haven't read the book, you’re missing about 60% of the internal psychological warfare that makes the prose so compelling.
✨ Don't miss: The Name of This Band Is Talking Heads: Why This Live Album Still Beats the Studio Records
The Real History Behind the Fiction
Faber didn't just make this stuff up. He heavily researched the "Great Social Evil," which was the Victorian term for prostitution. At the time, London had thousands of women working in the trade, ranging from "dolly-mops" to high-end courtesans.
The medical details are also terrifyingly accurate. The way Agnes is treated for her "female troubles" reflects the primitive state of Victorian psychiatry. They used mercury, laudanum, and forced isolation. It’s a horror story disguised as a period piece.
Critical Reception and Legacy
When it was released in 2002, critics didn't know what to do with it. Was it a pastiche? A parody? A serious historical reconstruction?
The Guardian called it "a book that creates its own world," and that’s the best way to describe it. It doesn't feel like a modern person pretending to be a Victorian. It feels like a Victorian writer who somehow got hold of a time machine and a dirty dictionary.
🔗 Read more: Wrong Address: Why This Nigerian Drama Is Still Sparking Conversations
- Sentence structure: Faber uses a very specific rhythm. He often addresses the reader directly ("Watch your step!").
- The "Gaze": The book is obsessed with who is looking at whom. Sugar watches William, William watches his profits, and the reader is forced to watch it all like a voyeur.
- Language: He uses period-accurate slang without making it feel like a history lecture.
How to Approach This Massive Novel
If you’re planning to dive into The Crimson Petal and the White, don't rush. It’s a slow burn. The first 100 pages are just setting the atmosphere.
You’ve got to be okay with unlikeable characters. William is a coward. Sugar is calculating. Agnes is tragic but exhausting. But that’s the point. They are human. They aren't symbols of "Victorian Virtue." They are people trying to survive a system that wants to crush them.
Real Insights for the Modern Reader
- Pay attention to the journals. Sugar’s writing within the book is a key to her character.
- Don't ignore the minor characters. Characters like Sophie (William’s daughter) and Mrs. Castaway (the madam) provide essential context for how the cycle of poverty and patriarchy continues.
- Look for the color symbolism. Red (crimson) and white are everywhere—blood on snow, red dresses against pale skin, the "red" of the slums vs. the "white" of the upper-class drawing rooms.
Actionable Next Steps for Fans of the Book
If you’ve finished the book and feel that "book hangover" where nothing else seems quite as vivid, here is how to dive deeper:
- Read "The Apple": Michel Faber released a collection of short stories that act as a follow-up. It provides some—though not all—closure for the characters. It’s essential reading if the ending of the main novel left you screaming at the wall.
- Explore Victorian Sociology: Check out Henry Mayhew’s London Labour and the London Poor. It was a primary source for Faber and many other historical novelists. It’s a fascinating, non-fiction look at the real people who lived in the world Sugar inhabited.
- Re-watch the BBC Adaptation: Even if you've seen it, watch it again after reading. The costume design and the "stuffy" atmosphere of the Rackham house are perfect visual counterparts to Faber's descriptions.
- Compare with Neo-Victorian Fiction: If you loved this, try Fingersmith by Sarah Waters. It hits many of the same notes regarding class, deception, and the hidden lives of women in the 19th century.
The Crimson Petal and the White isn't just a book you read; it’s a world you inhabit. It’s uncomfortable, it’s long, and it’s occasionally gross. But it’s also one of the most honest pieces of historical fiction ever written. It strips away the lace and the politeness to show the beating, bloody heart of a city in flux.