Behind a Mask is undoubtedly one of the most pleasurable reads I’ve had in a while. So masterfully written, that even the at times repetitive dramatic descriptions of feelings, thoughts, and actions (impetuous ones, in particular) couldn’t ruin the overall impression of Louisa May Alcott’s talent and eloquence.
The storyline sometimes seemed too fast-paced, the characters too passionate and overly sentimental, but somehow the ensemble as a whole managed to balance each other with just enough of distrust and shrewdness for the naïveté and gullibility to appear convincing to the reader. The deep insight into the complexities of the human psyche, as well as the predominance of themes like class conflict, women’s struggle for control of their own lives, and Victorian views of actresses, to my mind, saved the novella from turning into a novelette, making it a story that is not only worth reading, but which makes you forget all possible distractions in its whirlwind of deception and bewitchment.
As for the woman behind the mask, Jean Muir is a most fascinating antagonist/protagonist, and I, most certainly, would’ve enjoyed reading a novel or two about her adventures that took place before and after the events of Behind a Mask with a closer look at her (very specific) morality and hidden thoughts. While there is no excuse for her actions towards certain members of the Coventry family, I couldn’t help but feel sympathy for the cards that life had dealt her. Even knowing that she used Sir John’s good will to the fullest, I felt dismayed (though unsurprised) not just at how masterfully she makes a fool of him, but at how easily this noble, dignified, yet middle-aged (at best) man professes his feelings for a girl he considers to be 19 years of age and dares to believe in their reciprocity. And still, one can’t deny that it’s more pleasant or, at the very least, easier to live a lie, if it brings you joy and happiness, than to face the truth and refuse yourself a fairytale.
Oh, how I look forward to reading more by Alcott now that I’ve begun.