Book Review: The Mad Women’s Ball

 Book Review: The Mad Women’s Ball, Victoria Mas

My rating: 5 stars

Book of 2022: 2

The Salpêtrière asylum, 1885. All of Paris is in thrall to Doctor Charcot and his displays of hypnotism on women who have been deemed mad or hysterical. But the truth is more complicated - these women are often inconvenient, unwanted wives or strong-willed daughters. Once a year, a grand event is held - the Mad Women’s Ball. For the Parisian elite, it is the highlight of the social season; for the women themselves, it is a rare moment of hope. 

Geneviève is a senior nurse who had placed her faith in Doctor Charcot and his new science. But everything changes when she meets Eugénie, the daughter of a bourgeois family. For Eugénie has a secret and she needs Geneviève’s help. Their fates will collide on the night of the Mad Women’s Ball. 

I picked this book up purely by chance in a Waterstones in Manchester when I was visiting some friends for the weekend. The cover caught my attention of course, and the intriguing title. Immediately invested by the blurb, I bought the book (along with Lisa Toddeo’s Animal). 

I sat down on the train from Piccadilly to Crewe - an extra long route because: Sundays - and turned to the first page. 

Wow.

Immediately hooked. We meet Geneviève, an older matron at the Salpêtrière asylum for women. We follow this matron taking a young girl to be experimented on and shown off for the sake of science by a doctor (a man, duh) to a group of students and journalists. This sets us up for a perfect insight into the rest of the novel.

The narrative is omniscient, but we find ourselves focalising into the internal thoughts of certain characters. This opening scene, and the events which take place, do not seem to concern Geneviève in the slightest. Our matron is very much proud of the work the asylum carries out, and of her role within the process. What we have is a character in line with the way Aunt Lydia is portrayed in The Handmaid’s Tale. Although Geneviève is not quite so barbaric or forceful in her actions, she aligns her values with those in charge of these poor women. Her presence to the girls in the asylum is a comforting one, this hawk which watches over them, cares for them in a strange sort of way. She is complicit, but that’s sort of it. 

We then shift to meet Eugénie, the daughter in an elite household, who, shockingly, doesn’t conform. It’s an obvious trope but a necessary one, and one that is done very well to not feel formulaic. We soon learn that Eugénie feels the presence of her late grandfather. Interest peaked I tell you! What then follows, is one of my favourite things in books and movies: finding out more. Just as Bella does that embarrassingly easy yet very satisfying Google search to discover Edward is a vampire (yes, I’m talking about Twilight), Eugénie learns the name of an author who references a connection to the spirit world, and sets out to find his book. I love it.

“Although madness in men is not the same as madness in women: men use it against others; women turn it in on themselves.” (93)

The theme of the book as a whole I think, is to always believe in something more. To be open to there being something more. To never fully be content with how things are, and to always question and look for more. It’s a really compelling message.

The story as a whole felt very comforting to me. It brought memories of The Declaration, of incarcerated children born to parents who shouldn’t have had them. It reminded me of the Gothic tales from university, like The Ghost Writer and the stories within it. It was satisfying and intriguing, and other than the overuse of the word ‘bourgeois’, very well written. Our other central protagonist, Eugénie, brings with her a Jane Eyre force of gumption, and a beautiful fascination with the occult. 

Each and every character we visit in the asylum brings a uniqueness, a story, a piece of heart I picked up and collected as I read. This story set inside the Salpêtrière is based on truth. The asylum was a place which kept everyone who was deemed undesirable, and eventually just the women who society wanted nothing to do with anymore. The walls are filled with anger, pity, sadness, and hope. It’s really really well done.

“The rift is all the more pronounced when a woman enters a consulting room. When she offers up her body to be examined, a body simultaneously desired and misunderstood by the man conducting the examination. A doctor invariably believes he knows better than a patient, and a man invariably believes he knows better than a woman.” (101-102) 

The book was published in 2019, in French, as Le Bal des Folles. Yet, it feels beautifully Victorian in its fin de siecle style and 1885 French setting. Translated by Frank Wynne, I’m so glad I’ve read this book. The igniting spark from literature I felt at university has returned. I think I enjoy the stories of women unfairly treated. It seems slightly masochistic but there we are. 

The Mad Women’s Ball: I implore you to read it. I will definitely revisit this one.