The Phantom of the Opera (Gaston Leroux, 1911)

Christine Daaé, a promising young singer, finds her muse at the Paris Opera House. The Angel of Music, as she believes him to be, comes to her as a voice in her dressing room and coaches her to tremendous success. To others, he is the Opera Ghost — or O.G., as he tends to style himself. His demands for money and concessions have sent the previous managers into retirement, and unfortunately, the new managers don’t believe in ghosts. When box five — his box — is sold and Carlotta — not Christine — is cast in the lead, he cuts  down the great chandelier and sends it crashing into the crowded stalls, killing one and wounding dozens of others.

Vicomte Raoul de Chagny is in love with Christen and intends to marry her no matter their difference in rank. He finds a rival in the O.G., who he suspects is really a human of flesh and blood, no matter how ghastly his appearance. The Persian knows he is. He remembers when Erik was in Persia, torturing dissidents to death for the amusement of the Mazenderan. It was he who helped Erik flee from his own execution on condition that he cease his murderous ways. When Erik abducts Christine, Raoul and the Persian descend into the bowels of the Opera to uncover Erik’s secret lair and rescue Christine.

In the end, it’s Christine who winds up saving Raoul and the Persian when they fall into Erik’s torture chamber. She agrees to marry Erik and voluntarily leans over to kiss his horrible, skull-like head. She doesn’t even flinch. Erik, having never known such kindness, let’s them all go and dies well pleased.

Inscriptions: On the front endpaper, “Mr. Blooderok, Mac. 64”. The name definitely starts with “Mr. Blood” but then he had a blob of ink that obscured a few letters until “ok”. “Mac.” is not the usual abbreviation for March, but I assume that’s what it means.

The Mansion of Mystery (Chester K. Steele, 1911)

For a 1910s murder mystery, that’s perhaps the most generic title imaginable. It’s appropriate for a novel that’s just a series of cliches strung together.

Private detective Adam Adams is called to the Langmore mansion to clear Margaret of her parents’ murder. The coroner is gunning for her conviction because… she was in the house at the time? I mean, she was one of the people there. Her parents were killed by indeterminate means — no one is overly fussed about finding out. Adams thinks it’s an undetectable poison from the mysterious Orient. During the investigation, he stumbles onto a gang of counterfeiters headquartered in an old mill that they keep people away from by making them think it’s haunted. Adams says disguises are old hat but he still finds occasion to wear a dozen. His “negro” costume doesn’t protect him from being captured, however, and he’s imprisoned in the secret underground tunnels beneath the mill, but he wins the confidence of Number 4 and thus escapes with the knowledge of the real murderer. It was the most obvious suspect.

No inscriptions.

Captain Scraggs (Peter B. Kyne, 1911)

I usually write these summaries within a few hours of finishing the book, but it’s been almost a week since I read Captain Scraggs. The delay I suppose just comes down to me not wanting to think about it anymore.

I’m not certain why Scraggs, who is sometimes a captain, is in the title. He’s one of the three recurring characters, along with Gibney and McGuffey, but I wouldn’t say the most prominent or important. There isn’t a plot, only a series of incidents. The book gets more disjointed as it goes along; by the time it reaches the gunrunning conspiracy, it’s abandoned all semblance of continuity. The tone is… uncertain. There are parts that I’m sure are meant to be comedic, but I wouldn’t call it a comedy. It reads like Kyne is attempting satire, but satire needs to be satirizing something, and there’s just nothing there.

Inscriptions: signed H.E. Guptill or maybe Gubtill on the front flyleaf.

The Prodigal Judge (Vaughan Kester, 1911)

In antebellum North Carolina, General Quintard lives a reclusive life on his plantation. When he dies, he has no known heirs. A young boy lived with him, Hannibal Wayne Hazard, and it’s widely suspected that he was some relation, but none knows who the boy is certainly. When Bob Yancy offers to take care of Hannibal, no one offers any objection.

Yancy lives happily with Hannibal, raising him as his own son, until a man appears with a court order for custody of the boy. The town views it with suspicion, but whatever the underlying reason, Yancy has no intention of giving up his “nevvy”. The two flee the state for Tennessee, where they hope to find Betty Malroy, a wealthy woman who took an interest in Hannibal during her brief visit to town.

Along the way, Yancy is accosted at a tavern by Captain Murrell. The boy, believing Yancy to be killed, escapes on his own and finds his way to Judge Slocum Price. The Judge insists that he’s seen better days, and there must be some truth in that, since his present state couldn’t get much worse. He and his dear friend Solomon Mahaffy currently live for little else besides corn whiskey. Still, the Judge has a highly cultivated sense of honor and duty, and so the two set out with Hannibal to find Betty. Along the way, the Judge comes to care a great deal for Hannibal, particularly when he learns that his last name is Hazard.

In Tennessee, Betty, who had be away at school up north, assumes ownership of her plantation, Belle Plain. This greatly disturbs Tom Ware, her half-brother, who, were it not for Betty, stands to inherit the valuable estate. Tom is involved with Murrell, who heads a criminal organization called the Clan that kidnaps slaves from the upper south to resell in the deep south. Murrell, however, has been plotting a new scheme that involves instigating a slave rebellion which will inevitably end in failure, but will greatly increase the value of Murrell’s slaves. Tom has no faith in this scheme, but is willing to work with Murrell because Murrell also wants Betty; if Betty disappears, then Belle Plain is Tom’s.

The Judge reaches Tennessee, but by that point has grown too attached to Hannibal to let him go. He decides to settle in town, aided by Betty, and resume his law practice. When researching a land title at the town office, he stumbles across the name Colonel Fentress, which evidently means a great deal to him. He buys a pair of dueling pistols and begins target shooting.

Betty is kidnapped, and along with her Hannibal, who had been visiting at the plantation. They’re taken across the river and hidden in the overseer’s cabin. The Judge vows to recover both. It’s at this point that Yancy also reappears. He was badly injured and out of his wits for several days, but not killed. The Judge calls on Colonel Fentress, who he knows is in reality David Gatewood, and who years ago robbed him of $30,000 and his wife and daughter. The daughter married into the Hazard family and had a son. This son, through his grandmother, was General Quintard’s only heir. Fentress, the Judge asserts, was behind his abduction because he wanted to claim the Quintard estate, but the Judge now acknowledges that Hannibal is his grandson and he wants him back. Fentress denies everything. The Judge challenges him to a duel, which Fentress accepts, but he conspires to have the Judge detained during the appointed time. Mahaffy takes his friend’s place and is shot dead.

Murrell scheme begins to unravel as his trusted associate, Hues, turns out to be an undercover agent and arrests him. Betty and Hannibal are rescued, but the Clan is a powerful organization and it’s not at all certain if Murrell can be held. Many of the authorities in town flee, but the Judge fearlessly takes possession of the case and charges Yancy with holding Murrell — and to kill him if he tries to escape. Fentress, who by now is a known conspirator with Murrell, appears with an order for his release. The Judge (who, drunk or not, is an actual federal judge) counters by charging Murrell with felony counterfeiting and rearresting him. Fentress reaches for his gun, but the Judge pulls out his own and shoots him in the shoulder. Fentress and the rest of Murrell’s supporters flee. Fentress is found dead some time later, evidently robbed by Tom, who was escaping justice with him. Murrell is found guilty and dies in prison. Hannibal inherits the Quintard estate. The Judge claims Fentress’s property as his own, hiring Yancy as his overseer. The two raise Hannibal together. Mahaffy is burred beneath the Judge’s window. He tells Yancy that he wants to be buried beside him when his time comes.

Dawn O’Hara (Edna Ferber, 1911)

A newspaper woman in New York marries young to a brilliant but unstable political writer, who becomes a mental and financial boat anchor. His flightiness turns to insanity and he’s committed to an asylum. Dawn, in ill health, goes west to rest with her family, eventually getting a job in Milwaukee and moving there. Her doctor becomes her friend and wants to become more, but Dawn refuses to abandon her husband. An uneasy peace is maintained until word comes from New York that Dawn’s husband has left the asylum and is probably searching for her.

Dawn O’Hara was Edna Ferber’s first book, and while it’s hardly autobiographical, many elements seem to have been drawn from Ferber’s real life. Particullarly the struggling writer protagonist trying to get her first book published.