Sunday, October 11, 2009

Dewey's Read-a-Thon, Oct. 24-25

I have signed up to participate in Dewey's 24-Hour Read-a-Thon, which begins the morning of October 24. I last did a read-a-thon in June 2008, so it's high time I did another! In the weeks ahead I'll be scanning my bookshelves and making a little pile of books to tackle during that 24 hours.

The read-a-thon was created by book blogger Dewey, who died in late 2008. A team of other bloggers have kept it going. If you want to sign up, you'll find all the information you need here.

About the reading lady at the top of my post ... I had to pick this banner to publicize the read-a-thon because I've actually DONE what she's doing -- read and cooked at the same time. Although, I must admit, I've never done both in my underwear.

Wednesday, October 7, 2009

Memoirs of a Hoyden by Joan Smith

I discovered the prolific Joan Smith through a list of favorite authors at Good Ton, a Regency romance Web site. Smith has written more than 80 Regencies, a few of which I promptly ordered from Paperback Swap. Good Ton particularly recommended Memoirs of a Hoyden, so when it arrived first, I began reading it as soon as I tore open the package.

This humorous, highly entertaining novel may not linger in my memory long, but I sure had a lot of fun while I was reading it. It livened up a cold, rainy, dismal Sunday, spiriting me away to the coast of England for a story featuring a coach robbery, spies, smugglers, a handsome and capable hero and a stubborn, forthright and funny heroine. (Oh, and also a cleric who keeps naughty drawings hidden in the pages of a book of sermons.)

Miss Marion Mathieson has recently returned from her travels in the East and is giving lectures in England to promote her new book, A Gentlewoman's Memoirs of the Orient. When highwaymen hold up her coach, she suspects they are after more than money or jewels and throws herself headlong into an effort by the Marquess of Kestrel to catch a ring of spies intercepting military orders dispatched to the coast.

The suspense plot is somewhat cliched, but Smith's characterization of Miss Mathieson is where the book really shines. Marion, the story's narrator, thinks very highly of herself and wants to give everyone else the benefit of her superior expertise. She reminded me quite a bit of Amelia Peabody from Elizabeth Peters's series about a family of Victorian Egyptologists. Marion simply cannot keep her nose out of other people's business if an adventure is to be had (even though she may exaggerate just a tad when it comes to recounting her own hair-raising escapades in the East.)

In the wrong hands, Marion could have been incredibly annoying. Instead, she reminded me of an eccentric aunt whom you can't help but love because she's always saying or doing something completely outrageous, and you just have to know what she'll do next. Marion was a classic unreliable narrator, amusing instead of exasperating because of Smith's light, humorous touch, which encouraged the reader not to take Marion too seriously.

Miss Mathieson fell a bit short, however, of Amelia Peabody as a character because I was never convinced she was Kestrel's true equal. She simply wasn't as smart as Peabody. She and Kestrel fall in love, of course (this is a Regency romance). In a story where a couple's adversarial relationship eventually leads to love, I want to see a meeting of equals, in which neither individual is able to get the better of the other for long. But Kestrel was quietly competent and perfectly capable of catching the spies without Marion's "assistance." Every deduction Miss Mathieson made about the identity of the book's villain was wrong, and at one point she did something so boneheaded I rolled my eyes in exasperation. Although Smith allowed her to "save the day" at the end, Kestrel never would have been put in a dangerous position without her "help." I wish Marion had been right at least some of the time. It would have made her a stronger character.

Still, Memoirs of a Hoyden was enjoyable and the perfect length (170 pages) for an afternoon's escape. It had so many little sparkling touches that made it funny and appealing. My grade: B

Friday, October 2, 2009

Library Loot

I neglected to mention in my first library loot post I won't necessarily be participating every week - just when I have new loot to report. I visit the library every month or so, and I try to limit myself to checking out a few books at a time because I have so many at home waiting to be read. I also tend to renew my books a lot.


This week, I picked up Betraying Season by Marissa Doyle, the just-released sequel to Bewitching Season (which is still sitting in my library pile at home). Doyle's young-adult novels combine Regency romance and magic with the tales of two young debutantes and witches-in-training.


In the historical thriller The Black Tower by Louis Bayard, a Paris detective investigates a murder and finds himself hot on the trail of the Dauphin, son of Marie Antoinette & Louis XVI, thought murdered by revolutionaries. We Two: Victoria and Albert - Rulers, Partners, Rivals by Gillian Gill is a dual biography focusing on the 20 years Queen Victoria and her Prince Consort occupied the English throne.

Sunday, September 27, 2009

Regency GLOM!

For the past week, I have been ordering one Regency romance after another from Paperback Swap. I can't stop myself - PBS has what seems like an inexhaustible supply of these little novels. (Luckily, I had built up a pretty sizable credit reserve!) I have 11 ordered, two on their way to me and several more on my reminder list. Now let's see if I can be patient while waiting for them all to arrive!

Lest you think I've been ordering willy-nilly, with no regard for QUALITY, I have been making good use of the review archives at All About Romance. Most of the books I've ordered or plan to order received their stamp of approval with an A or B grade. I also found a few Regency recommendations at Smart Bitches, Trashy Books (a really fun blog to visit, especially when it comes to reviews of bad books! Some of their D and F reviews had my belly aching with laughter.)

So just when will I make the time to read all these books, you say? Well, I feel a Regency reading glom coming on! My only dilemma is deciding what to read first. (Fortuitously, in Jean Plaidy's Georgian Saga, I have reached the books detailing the exploits of the Prince Regent himself. I plan to work a couple of those into my romance-reading time, as I'd like to finish the entire saga by the end of the year.)

So, to those who read my humble blog, if Regencies aren't your thing, I apologize in advance for the plethora of reviews I'll be posting. Bear with me. I expect that within a matter of weeks I'll return to my regularly scheduled reading.

(Although I am thinking of starting 2010 with a historical-mystery glom. Consider yourself warned.)

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Cleopatra's Daughter by Michelle Moran

Michelle Moran's newest historical novel, Cleopatra's Daughter, was one of those rare books that completely swept me out of my 21st-century life into another place and time. Reading it was like hopping into a time machine for a guided tour of Octavian's Rome. The teeming, dynamic city was so vividly and realistically portrayed, I felt as though I were walking the streets with the characters.

Because Moran was so good at immersing me in ancient Rome, I am finding this a difficult novel to review. After I put it down and thought back over the story, more and more aspects of it bothered me. The book has some flaws. I didn't mind them so much when lost in Moran's Rome but couldn't help thinking about them after finishing the novel.

Cleopatra's Daughter follows the children of Cleopatra and Marc Antony across the Mediterranean after Caesar Octavian (later known as Augustus) defeats their parents and adds Egypt to his sprawling empire. Much of the story concerns Selene and her twin brother, Alexander, coming of age and learning to survive in a culture very different from their own. Rome is portrayed through the eyes of Selene, the narrator, as a chaotic, debauched, often frightening place, yet vibrant and swelling with confidence and pride in its own accomplishments.

Although the twins are taken into the household of Octavia, Caesar's sister, and treated as guests, they remain painfully aware they live only at Octavian's whim, and he will destroy them without a thought if he perceives them as threats to Rome. The figure of Octavian -- brooding, superstitious, possessing more brains than brawn -- loomed over the entire novel, not only as the person who ultimately controlled Selene and Alexander's fates, but as the one man who, with political acumen and ruthlessness, might be able to hold the Roman empire together.

Yet Selene and her brother experience kindness and friendship from some of the members of Octavian's large, extended family, including Octavia's son, Marcellus, and Octavian's daughter, Julia, who are close to the twins in age. With Marcellus and Julia, the twins attend school, go shopping, watch chariot races and enjoy the summer holidays at Octavian's villa on Capri. Vitruvius, Octavian's architect, even teaches Selene how to design buildings after seeing her impressive sketches of Alexandria, her native city.

Because she lost her own home and parents, Selene sympathizes with the plight of the downtrodden, especially the slaves brought from conquered countries who make up one-third of Rome's population. She eagerly follows news of the Red Eagle, an unknown rebel who posts anti-slavery messages on the doors of temples and shops. When the messages stir unrest, suspicion falls on members of Octavian's inner circle, as it is obvious from the notices the Red Eagle is an educated person with access to the richest areas of the city.

Moran's Rome was not sugar-coated; she unflinchingly depicted the sufferings of slaves and the poor and the cruelties of the gladiatorial games enjoyed by ordinary Romans as entertainment. Life in Rome certainly typified the phrase "nasty, brutish and short." In fact, I felt a bit beaten about the head by all the ugly, unsavory aspects of everyday life. Moran could have toned it down a bit and still gotten her point across.

Other issues I had with the novel concerned Selene's love life. I grew impatient with her teenage mooning after Marcellus (who she knew from the start was promised in marriage to Julia). Selene seemed too mature and intelligent a character to fall for a man with so little in common with her. (Marcellus's all-consuming interest was betting on chariot races.) Selene finally realized which man truly deserved her love and loyalty, but the development of their relationship was rushed and not entirely convincing. The story lost a lot of steam two-thirds of the way through. Moran could have spent more time in the last 100 pages on Selene's discovering who really captured her heart, rather than having her feeling sorry for herself because of Marcellus's wedding.

I also had problems with the resolution to the mystery of the Red Eagle's identity. The rebel turned out to be a person I had a hard time believing would put Caesar or his family at risk. (The Red Eagle's messages provoked violence and even an assassination attempt.)

I loved Moran's depiction of ancient Rome, its culture and its people so much, I was willing to forgive these flaws while I was reading. She must have done a staggering amount of research, but I never felt pulled out of the story by an author showing off her knowledge of the period. The first half of the book was nearly perfect, but the second half needed tightening and a more focused plot. Despite this novel's flaws, Moran is definitely a writer to watch, and I'll be sure to read her other books.

My grade: B+

Sunday, September 13, 2009

The Third George by Jean Plaidy

The Third George was a return to form for Jean Plaidy (following the disappointing The Prince and the Quakeress in her Georgian Saga). The novel focuses on the reign of the king best known for losing the American colonies and for his eventual madness. Plaidy's George III was a somewhat pathetic figure -- a king with the best of intentions but not politically astute enough to rule particularly well.

The novel begins with George placing his royal duty above the dictates of his heart, as he decides to make a state marriage with a plain German princess. After the wedding festivities and a somewhat comical coronation (marred by bad planning), George gets down to the business of ruling, with his longtime advisor, Lord Bute, at his elbow.

The ambitious Lord Bute, craving more power, convinces George's ministers to stand against the brilliant, popular William Pitt, which prompts Pitt to resign from the government. George's subjects grumble against Bute, especially when he proves inept at governing. The common people recognize George has allowed himself to become the puppet of Bute and of his domineering mother, the Princess Dowager (who has long been Bute's lover). They derisively call the pair Jackboot and Petticoat and make it dangerous for either of them to venture into London.

Bute eventually admits his ambitions have outstripped his political abilities, and when he steps down, George brings Pitt back into the government. But the once-great statesman has grown old and ill, and he, George and the other ministers make a long series of disastrous decisions. Continually mocked in broadsheets of the day, George only finds happiness by retiring to the country to play at being a gentleman farmer and to spend time with his growing brood of children. A strict moralist, the king is continually beset by scandals involving his siblings and, later, his eldest sons. His mental health deteriorates as his anxieties increase.

Throughout the story, I most sympathized with George's queen, Charlotte, one of the book's best drawn characters. (The portrait to the right was said to be an excellent likeness.) She is hand-picked by Jackboot and Petticoat to be a meek wife who will not challenge their power. The day she arrives in London, she is told she will marry George, whom she has only just met, that very night! A short, thin woman, she has to be pinned into her wedding dress.

The Princess Dowager continually meddles in the queen's household, deciding for her on matters as petty as whether Charlotte will wear jewels to church or what attendants will serve her. (Talk about a mother-in-law from hell!) As the queen learns English, she becomes more interested in state affairs and encourages George to confide in her. George shuts her out, as he is determined no woman will rule him as George II was ruled by his queen. (He seems to forget this when it comes to his mother, however.) Charlotte grows increasingly frustrated as she is left with nothing to do but to bear child after child. (The couple eventually had 15!)

The novel dragged somewhat in the middle, and the last several chapters were a hurried, workmanlike account of several important events, as though Plaidy were impatient to get to the end. The American Revolution, unfortunately, was one of the subjects given cursory treatment; I would have liked to read more about British reactions to it. Plaidy also touched very briefly on a couple of the scandals involving the Prince of Wales; the next few books in the series focus more on him and his love affairs.

Plaidy ended the book with one of George's episodes of madness, which was both terrifyingly and touchingly portrayed. I am looking forward to the series finally arriving at the Regency years. My grade for The Third George: B-

Saturday, September 12, 2009

My reviews at Georgette Heyer Challenge and Jean Plaidy's Royal Intrigue

As though I needed any more encouragement to read Georgette Heyer! I will be cross-posting my Heyer reviews to the Georgette Heyer Challenge blog. Hosted by Becky at Becky's Book Reviews, the challenge is a perpetual one, with no official start and end dates. If you already love Heyer or need more encouragement to read one of her books, please visit! Reviews of many of her Regency romances, mysteries and historical novels already have been posted there.


As I work my way through Jean Plaidy's Georgian Saga, I am cross-posting my reviews at Jean Plaidy's Royal Intrigue, which is hosting a 2009 Plaidy reading challenge. This Website offers a whole slew of Plaidy goodies: a bibliography, reading discussions, a cover gallery, a blog and more!

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

The Season by Sarah MacLean

The Season was a lighthearted romp through Regency England from an author with an obvious affection for the period. At its center was a sweet, believably written romance, with a espionage subplot added for spice. I devoured the book in two sittings, enchanted by the author's playful language and glittering scenes of high-society life.

Alexandra Stafford, the 17-year-old daughter of a duke, is dreading her first London Season. She has no interest in marrying an insufferably boring British peer and suspects most men want a docile, empty-headed woman (something she most assuredly is not!) Constant teasing from her three mischievous brothers about her beaus just makes her situation more intolerable. Luckily, she has the unwavering support of her two best friends, Vivi and Ella, and the sympathy of Gavin, newly titled Earl of Blackmoor, with whom she grew up and who is practically another brother to her.

However, in the Season's whirl of balls, dinner parties and carriage rides, Alex and Gavin develop feelings for one another that go FAR beyond brotherly or sisterly affection. Misunderstandings inevitably arise as the pair struggle to understand their new emotions. Through Gavin and Alex's interactions, Sarah MacLean brought to life all the joy, confusion, jealousy and uncertainty of first love. Anyone who can remember what it was like to be a bewildered teenager will certainly identify with this couple.

Complicating their blossoming romance is Gavin's suspicion that his beloved father's death was not an accident. In fact, the late earl had uncovered evidence of a ring of spies selling military secrets to the French. About two-thirds of the way through the book, after Alex overhears a conversation proving the earl was murdered, the suspense kicks into high gear, culminating in a showdown at Gavin's country estate in Essex. The mystery was not as fleshed out as I'd like, and the villain was fairly obvious as well as a bit dim. (He never seemed able to decide on his next course of action.)

However, MacLean held my attention with her sympathetic and often funny characters, clever dialogue and affectionate descriptions of life among the ton. At times, I felt I was inside the story with Alex, gossiping with her friends at a ball or riding with Gavin through Hyde Park. My favorite scene was one in which Alex's maid helped her dress for a party. I could picture her donning each intricate layer of clothing like a knight suiting up in his armor, before doing battle for the hearts of young men.

My grade: A-

Monday, September 7, 2009

The Prince and the Quakeress by Jean Plaidy

Whew! I have finally finished The Prince and the Quakeress by Jean Plaidy, the fourth book in her Georgian Saga. What a slog! I struggled with it for weeks. It didn't hold my attention for more than a chapter or two at a time. All of Plaidy's strengths -- easy-to-read prose, brisk pacing, and a knack for helping readers understand her characters -- seemed to desert her in this novel. At the same time, her weaknesses -- repetitive scenes, cursory treatment of important events and "tell-not-show" writing -- were very much in evidence.

The Prince and the Quakeress covers the life of George III as Prince of Wales and focuses mainly on his alleged first love affair with Hannah Lightfoot, a Quaker woman and niece of a linen draper. Historians disagree on whether the two ever were involved and whether George might have secretly married her or had children by her.

At 12, George becomes Prince of Wales, when his father Frederick dies soon after being struck in the head by a tennis ball. His mother, the Dowager Princess Augusta, takes a lover, Lord Bute, and together the two scheme to keep the future king dependent on them. At first their task is not difficult, as George is docile, easily manipulated and none too bright. But the young prince soon shows his stubbornness when it comes to matters of the heart.

He arranges to secretly meet Hannah Lightfoot after seeing her several times sitting in the window of her uncle's shop. When her family discovers their clandestine affair, they quickly marry her off to a grocer. However, George arranges to have her spirited from her family's home the day of the wedding to a grand townhouse, where the two continue their affair for years.

And ... that's really all there is to the story. Hannah is kept a virtual prisoner in the townhouse, afraid if she ever ventures out, her family will find her. Plaidy never fleshed out Hannah's character, and I never understood why she would give up her freedom for George, or even why she loved him, as she was quite a few years older than he.

Most of the book's scenes from this point on concerned one of the following events:

  • George and Hannah proclaim their undying love for one another while experiencing crippling guilt over their adulterous union.
  • Lord Bute and the Princess Augusta bemoan George's devotion to Hannah and scheme about how to bring him back under their control.
  • The king, George II, becomes angry with a family member or one of his ministers and gives a speech on the perfection of his late, lamented queen.

Plaidy barely mentioned William Pitt, the Great Commoner, who at this time was setting England on its course toward becoming a world power.

Finally, Lord Bute brings an end to George's affair with Hannah, determined the Prince will wed a German princess who cannot speak English and who would be unable to wrest control of George from himself and Princess Augusta. After George II obliges his family by finally succumbing to a stroke, young George briefly asserts he will marry Sarah Lennox, a vibrant, frivolous girl he has become infatuated with. But Lord Bute soon brings him to heel.

I really think Plaidy could have handled Hannah Lightfoot's story in a few chapters of a longer novel on George III, rather than basing nearly an entire book on it. Although The Prince and the Quakeress is my least favorite novel so far in the Georgian Saga, Plaidy did succeed in making me sympathize with young George. He really had no chance with all the wolves of court ringed around him. Essentially an honest, simple, loyal young man, he implicitly trusted those trying to manipulate him. He might have been much happier as a gentleman farmer, devoted to his wife and children, than as a prince and king.

My grade: C-

Friday, September 4, 2009

Library Loot

I've decided to join Eva of A Striped Armchair and Marg of Reading Adventures in their weekly event, "Library Loot," in which bloggers share the books they've recently checked out from the library.

To keep from adding more books to my already sagging shelves, I've been trying to use the library more often. I really have no excuse not to, since my county has an excellent library system that has the titles I'm looking for most of the time. I browse the catalog and request books online, and they are delivered to my local branch.

Here are the books I picked up yesterday:


Two more Regency novels, this time from the young-adult stacks. In The Season by Sarah MacLean, a young debutante unravels a murder mystery. Bewitching Season by Marissa Doyle is a historical fantasy featuring two young ladies with magical abilities.



It's high time I visited Elizabethan England again. Martyr by Rory Clements places John Shakespeare (Will's older brother) in the role of detective, investigating both a murder and a plot to assassinate Sir Francis Drake.

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

My Regencies experiment (Help, I'm browsing the romance section!), plus a review

"I don't do romance." For years, that statement has been one of my reading mantras.

But my newfound love f
or Georgette Heyer, and by extension, the Regency period, has led me (somewhat shamefacedly) to browse the romance section looking for more stories like hers.

My reasons are twofold. First, although I've only read four of her novels so far, I am acutely aware Heyer wrote only a limited number of Regency romances. I'm trying to pace myself on reading them so they last longer. Therefore, I'm looking for other authors to help satisfy my Regency obsession.

Second, as witty and delightful as they are, Heyer's books require mental alacrity. Her characters' words and actions convey multiple layers of meaning, requiring my full, focused attention. Sometimes, I just want an escapist read I can breeze through, without stopping to ponder the implications of a piece of dialogue or to look up some obscure Regency phrase. If Heyer's books are like slowly savoring a five-course meal at a renowned restaurant, perhaps other writers can supply the literary equivalent of chocolate-chip cookies.

What kept me away from the romance section of my local Barnes & Noble for so many years? After all, I've been known to occasionally wander to the romance shelves in used-book stores, looking for forgotten historical-fiction gems, ever since I learned many beloved writers were saddled with book covers like this:


(I certainly don’t remember THAT scene from my recent reading of this novel. In fact, I can’t picture Jean Plaidy writing a scene like that.)

I've also enjoyed many novels in which romance plays an important role, such as the Lady Julia Grey books by Deanna Raybourn.

I suppose I've assumed most romance novels were “porn for women.” I'm no prude, but when I pick up a book, I want to read a good story, not a flimsy plot on which to hang sex scene after sex scene after sex scene … Too much raunchiness in a novel makes me feel numb. Give me something to anticipate, something to imagine. Let's have some erotic tension, for God’s sake.

However, I am all for well-written sex scenes that advance the plot or contribute to character development. Just go easy on the purple prose, please. Don’t make me want to giggle in disbelief or vomit (or both).

I also may have been put off by a few romance novels I attempted to read in my younger years that had "heroes" who were slightly too alpha (i.e. psychotic). I have been reliably informed the 80s were a particularly dismal decade when it comes to weak, fawning heroines and cruel, brutal, narcissistic heroes.

Therefore, in my quest to find more authors of Regencies, I've done some review reading at Amazon, Paperback Swap and on blogs and have acquired a tidy little pile of books to try. For the next several months, I plan to read a few different writers and to report back here on how crossing over to the “Dark Side” of romances has worked for me.

Which leads me to my first review of a non-Heyer Regency: Compromised by Kate Noble.

I stumbled across this novel at a used-book store and bought it on a whim after reading the back-cover blurb. It took me just two days to read, and I am somewhat surprised to say I really enjoyed it. While it was no Heyer, it was briskly paced and amusing, with characters who grew more complex and interesting as the story progressed.

Seduced by spring moonlight, ethereally beautiful Evangeline Alton exchanges a kiss with the darkly handsome Maximillian (Viscount Fontaine) in the conservatory during her coming-out ball. Unfortunately, they are seen, and rumors quickly fly about the young couple caught in a compromising position. To head off disaster, Evangeline’s father Sir Geoffrey (an up-and-coming diplomat), and social-climbing stepmother Romilla decide the two must marry, after a month of courtship designed to give their relationship a respectable air.


Maximillian is dismayed when Romilla informs him either she or Gail, Evangeline’s irksome sister, will chaperon all his outings with his intended. Maximillian previously met Gail in Hyde Park, where his runway horse and her impetuous actions resulted in both of them being tossed into a lake. The tart-tongued, provoking Gail gets under Max's skin whenever they meet. Hoping to distract her so he may better court the lovely Evangeline, Maximillian asks his friend, Will Holt, to accompany him whenever he calls on the sisters.

I immediately saw where this was going, but Kate Noble gave me much to enjoy while getting there (although I sometimes just wanted the characters to get on with realizing who loved who). For the first quarter or so of the book, the plot was a little too contrived for my taste, but as the story moved from drawing room to ball to dinner party, I got caught up in it, as Noble revealed surprising depths to characters who could easily have turned into caricatures.

Gail – intellectually curious, adventurous and passionate, yet socially awkward – was a great character. I'll admit, I can't resist a bluestocking heroine, especially one as well drawn as Gail. She was smart, witty and even worldly in some ways, but still somehow vulnerable and innocent. And how could I not love Max – handsome, charming, a bit arrogant – yet with surprisingly deep feelings, a wonderful sense of humor and a thirst for new, challenging experiences? Noble's secondary characters also were well drawn, even those who made only brief appearances in the narrative. (I was particularly surprised – and delighted – by a plot twist featuring Romilla, the character I had been most disposed to dislike.)

The novel had some sex scenes, but they were tastefully and believably handled and showed different facets of the characters involved.

As for complaints, I ran across a few things that didn't seem quite historically accurate, but since these were minor points, I was willing to let them go. My one frustration with the novel was it really needed a good proofreader. I came across way too many typos, misplaced commas and mixed-up homonyms (aisle/isle, fair/fare).

So, my first non-Heyer Regency read turned out to be an enjoyable success. Compromised was not perfect, but it was a lot of fun. My grade: B+

Sunday, August 30, 2009

April Lady by Georgette Heyer

At the heart of April Lady lies a cautionary tale about how suspicion and resentment can grow when spouses do not communicate with one another. However, there was nothing preachy about this enjoyable novel, told with Georgette Heyer's customary wit.

Nell is a 19-year-old bride, madly in love with her husband, Lord Cardross. She fears, however, that this worldly, much older gentleman married her only because he needed a wife and found Nell more amiable than other ladies of the ton. She cannot forget her mother's admonitions not to hang on Giles and to look the other way should he take a mistress. So she holds him at arm's length ...

Giles is head-over-heels in love with Nell but suspects she only married him for his vast fortune. After all, he brought the dibs into tune again for her impoverished father and brother (i.e. got them out of debt). His suspicions grow after Nell overspends her quarterly allowance and seems to be concealing something from him. So he holds her at arm's length ...

Nell finds herself in debt partly because she lent her brother Dysart, a chronic gambler, 300 pounds, something which her husband had asked her not to do. She believes Giles has settled all of her bills, but she forgets one tucked at the back of a drawer: 300 pounds for a lavish court dress. Ashamed and fearful of Giles's reaction, she asks her brother to raise the money for her. Of course, complications ensue.

The reader is aware all along Giles would forgive his bride if only she told him the whole truth. But she is young, lacks confidence and is terrified of losing any affection he may hold for her. Nell could have been a tiresome character, but in Heyer's hands I found myself rooting for her. Toward the end of the novel, she finds her confidence and strength, which was a joy to see.

Two subplots concern Letty, Giles's flighty, naive half-sister, who is determined to marry a young man of no fortune and position, and Dysart, a well-meaning rouge who has fallen into bad company. Heyer deftly resolved these plot threads with a great deal of sparkling humor. Dysart, in fact, helps Nell out of her difficulties in ways she never expected.

Once again, Heyer's characterizations were one of the best things about the novel. Even when the characters exasperated me, I sympathized with them. They were all likable despite their many flaws. Heyer's characters are so vivid, they seem to live on after I have reached the final page.

My favorite minor character was a cousin of Letty's who helped her and her beau meet and make plans behind Giles's back. The cousin, Selina, imagined herself as the heroine of a Gothic novel, complete with melodramatic dialogue. Her scenes were laugh-out-loud funny (even my husband thought so when I read one aloud to him.)

My grade for April Lady: A-

This novel was packed with Regency slang. I'm getting much better at figuring out what these phrases mean in the context of the story. Here are some of them:

Plant a facer: Punch in the face

Cents per cent: Moneylenders

High in the instep: Haughty, proud

Never have a feather to fly with: To never have any money

Banbury tales: Wild stories, tall tales

Cream-pot love: Pretending to love someone in order to get something from them

Hell: Gaming establishment outside of the elite gentleman's clubs that might take advantage of inexperienced players

Crim.cons: Extramarital liaisons

Loose in the haft: Used to describe a man who cannot be depended on, has many vices & little respect for propriety

Pluck to the backbone: Brave

Foxed, top-heavy: Drunk

Monday, August 24, 2009

Arabella by Georgette Heyer

It’s official: I love Georgette Heyer. I just finished another of her Regency romances, Arabella, and was once again enchanted by her lovingly drawn characters, witty and entertaining plots, brilliant dialogue and painstaking depictions of Regency life. I even enjoyed getting on the computer every couple of chapters to look up Heyer's many colorful, often baffling, Regency expressions (although I grumbled good-naturedly to my husband about it.)

Heyer’s Cinderella story concerns the London debut of Arabella, the beautiful daughter of a Yorkshire vicar of modest means. Arabella’s titled godmother has agreed to sponsor her during the Season, and if Arabella can attract a proposal from a well-to-do bachelor, she might be able to give her seven siblings a more comfortable start in life. I could not help loving Arabella from the very first chapter. She was just so ADORABLE, with her naivety, lack of town polish and habit of getting herself into scrapes whenever her anger was aroused.

Arabella’s carriage breaks down en route to London outside of a hunting lodge belonging to Mr. Beaumaris, the “Nonpareil,” as he is known in society circles. Mr. Beaumaris is the man everyone in London imitates (he starts a dandelion craze when he wears one in his buttonhole for three days straight.) He is THE arbiter of fashion and good taste, able to launch a debutante into a brilliant Season simply by smiling at her, or to make her a wallflower if he turns his back. He is also fabulously wealthy, quite jaded and very, very bored.

When Arabella overhears Mr. Beaumaris speculating she is another scheming girl after him for his wealth, she invents a wild story (with the help of too many glasses of champagne) that she is herself a great heiress and thus uninterested in his fortune. When she arrives in London, she finds to her dismay the story has spread, and she must fight off fortune-hunting suitors of her own. Simultaneously, Mr. Beaumaris decides to amuse himself by paying a great deal of attention to Arabella, thus making her the toast of the town.

But as he gets to know this innocent, charming girl from the country, Mr. Beaumaris is surprised to find himself falling for Arabella. He is utterly enchanted by her refreshing honesty, her strong character and her determination to do what she knows is right, no matter what society might think. Before long, he is going to any lengths to win her esteem: for example, taking in and finding a trade for an ill-favored chimney sweep’s apprentice whom Arabella rescues from an abusive master. (Her incandescent rage when she confronts the cruel sweep and frightens him into giving up the boy is a joy to behold.)

One of the great delights of this novel was experiencing Mr. Beaumaris’s transformation from a complete cynic into a man in love, traced humorously through monologues directed at his dog, Ulysses (another charity case Arabella foists on him). The scenes between the dignified Mr. Beaumaris and the scruffy mutt were some of the best in the novel.

Arabella, meanwhile, develops her own feelings for Mr. Beaumaris, enjoying his company much more than that of any of her tiresomely persistent suitors. But how can his attention to her be any more to him than a diverting game? And how can she ever confess to him she is not rich at all? Arabella’s brother Bertram becomes the means toward solving her problems when he visits London with well-heeled friends and spends as if he too were affluent, and Arabella must devise a scheme to keep him out of debtor’s prison.

Arabella was a very satisfying read that made me want to laugh and cry at the same time. I wish Heyer had written a sequel, as I would love to see other adventures befall these delightful characters. I can’t think of any higher praise I could give to a novel. My grade: A.

As a postscript, I just have to share some of the Regency phrases I learned from reading this novel:

To enact a Cheltenham tragedy: To make a big deal out of nothing

Coxcomb: A vain, conceited person or a fool

To gammon: To deceive someone with nonsense or humbug

Gudgeon: A person who is easily deceived or imposed upon

On dit: Gossip

Laced mutton: A woman of easy virtue

Punting on the River Tick, swallowing a spider, getting into Queer Street: To be in debt.

Regency slang is almost as much fun to learn as Shakespearean slang!

Saturday, July 4, 2009

The Crimson Thread by Suzanne Weyn

Bridget O'Malley and her family arrive in New York City in 1880 with little more than the clothes on their backs, hoping for a better life than what they left behind in Ireland. They struggle at first, working in sweatshop conditions and living in a dismal tenement apartment. But when opportunity knocks, in the form of Bridget's position as a seamstress in the home of textile tycoon J.P. Wellington, it seems fortune will smile on them at last.

To Bridget's dismay, her imaginative father boasts she can make dresses so spectacular, they will create a sensation and bring the Wellingtons untold riches. Bridget's skills are not equal to the task, but she has an unexpected ally. Ray Stalls, a kind but enigmatic young man from her neighborhood, practically spins straw into gold, launching Bridget into a brilliant new career and the sort of fairy-tale lifestyle she only dreamed of. Until it all unravels.

Suzanne Weyn's young-adult novel, from the "Once Upon a Time" series, is an imaginative reworking of the Brothers Grimm tale, "Rumpelstiltskin" She embroiders her story with the merest hint of magic as she relates how Bridget finds all she has ever thought she wanted and loses it, only to discover riches much more precious and lasting.

The most intriguing aspect of this fairy-tale retelling was how Weyn turned Ray Stalls into a hero rather than the villain. He is the story's most sympathetic character and Bridget's true prince, although it takes her the length of the novel to realize it. Weyn incorporated elements from the original tale - straw spun into gold thread, a quest to discover Stalls's true name -in surprising ways. Bridget was a resourceful, strong-willed character, especially when Ray Stalls vanished from the narrative for a time, leaving her to her own devices.

Weyn portrayed the prejudice many immigrants had to overcome in order to succeed in the New World. She also explored the working conditions of the Industrial Revolution, showing how tycoons built their wealth on the backs of poorly paid employees, and examined the beginnings of labor movements and unionizing.

The book was not without flaws. Bridget's father was the stereotypical Irishman - hot headed and full of blarney. (At least he didn't drink). The plot relied too much on coincidence, and Weyn crammed so many important occurrences into the last 60 pages that my head spun. But I was willing to overlook these problems. It's a fairy tale, after all, with an appropriately romantic and happy ending.

My grade: A-

Sunday, June 28, 2009

Caroline, the Queen by Jean Plaidy

Caroline, the Queen, the third book in Jean Plaidy's Georgian Saga, opens with the death of George I, Caroline of Ansbach's tyrannical father-in-law. Finally, Caroline takes the helm of the ship of state. For years, she has honed her ability to manipulate her husband, George II, a conceited, hot-tempered, selfish little man. With the help of the astute politician Sir Robert Walpole, Caroline sets England on the course of peace and prosperity.


However, her life remains far from easy. She must constantly coddle her insecure husband and make him believe that he, not she, is the true ruler of England. Her health begins to fail as she grows older, which she must hide from George, who cannot abide his wife showing signs of illness. And she must always contend with her and Walpole's enemies at court.

Unfortunately, Caroline is not nearly as successful a mother as she is at ruling. She is estranged from her oldest son, Frederick, who remained behind in Hanover when she and George came to England. As a consequence, she has lavished all her affection on her younger boy, William, and wishes he were the eldest son and Prince of Wales. Frederick and his parents grow to despise one another, especially as George II's popularity wanes. George makes the same mistake his father made: He prefers his principality of Hanover, where he is absolute ruler, to England, where he must win the approval of Parliament.

I grew a bit impatient with Plaidy's "just the facts" prose style while reading this book, which probably means I need to take a short break before moving on to the next. She packs a lot of information into fairly compact novels, and while she gives a good overview of each reign, I sometimes wish she would spend more time describing the personalities and politics involved. The novel also seemed a bit repetitive, perhaps because George and Caroline's hatred of their son mirrored George I's hatred of them a generation before.

However, I felt I got to know the formidable Caroline well through the pages of this novel. She was a complicated, fiercely intelligent and steely woman and must certainly have been one of the most influential queens-consort in British history. My grade: B.

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