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: C+

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!

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: D

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-.

Queen in Waiting by Jean Plaidy

Queen in Waiting, the second book in Jean Plaidy's Georgian Saga, focuses on a fascinating woman, Caroline of Ansbach: wife of George Augustus of Hanover, the Princess of Wales and future Queen of England.

Caroline was a much more interesting protagonist than Sophia Dorothea, the central figure of Plaidy's previous novel, The Princess of Celle. Unlike Sophia Dorothea, Caroline was fiercely intelligent, crafty and determined not to become a victim. She knew she had only to wait for the death of her loathsome father-in-law to become the power behind the English throne.

Raised as the ward of Sophia Charlotte, sister of George Lewis of Hanover, Caroline agrees to marry George Lewis's son, George Augustus, in order to remain close to her beloved guardian. The first half of the novel shows how Caroline learns to navigate the treacherous court of Hanover, which her vindictive father-in-law rules with an iron fist, and also to make herself indispensable to her conceited, hot-tempered, childish husband (whose tantrums involve him throwing his wig to the floor and kicking it around the room.) Despite her husband's failings, Caroline develops an affection for him, especially when she discovers she can manipulate him to her way of doing things, while making him think it was his idea all along.

The novel offered a fresh perspective on Duchess Sophia of Hanover, who featured prominently in The Princess of Celle. Caroline learns from the formidable, intellectual duchess how to get her way without running afoul of men with power over her. Duchess Sophia also passes along to Caroline her fierce love for England, where the duchess hopes to rule before she dies. The granddaughter of James I, Sophia is next in line in the Protestant succession because of Queen Anne's inability to produce an heir. (The English seem unlikely to allow the Catholic son of James II to take the throne.)

The duchess dies scant weeks before Queen Anne, leaving her son, George Lewis, heir to the English throne, and George Augustus and Caroline the Prince and Princess of Wales. The rest of the book details how the couple strive to ingratiate themselves with the English people while living under George Lewis's thumb. Possibly the most unappealing monarch ever to sit on Britain's throne, George I never bothers to learn English and openly expresses his preference for his principality of Hanover. He keeps his throne with the help of wily ministers and plain dumb luck. He hates his son and daughter-in-law for their popularity with the people and heaps all the indignities he can on them, including taking Caroline's children from her care. But Caroline, a survivor, bides her time positioning herself to eventually take the throne.

I am enjoying Plaidy's portrayal of the grand Georgian soap opera. Her no-frills writing is smooth, easy to read and packed with information, although I can understand why some readers find her dull. Plaidy paid inordinate attention to minor episodes in Caroline's life (intrigues among her ladies) while glossing over larger ones (the Jacobite rebellions). However, she mostly provides an enjoyable trip through the foibles and follies of history. My grade: B

The Princess of Celle by Jean Plaidy

I've managed to learn a great deal about the British monarchy from reading historical fiction, but I still have huge gaps in my knowledge when it comes to the Georgian period. (Just how did a bunch of Germans end up on England's throne, anyway?) I have been wanting to read more of Jean Plaidy's novels, so I decided to start on her Georgian saga. These 11 books begin with the story of Prince George Lewis of Hanover, later George I, and continue through the early life of Queen Victoria.

The Princess of Celle actually takes place almost entirely in Germany, with scant coverage of George I's English reign. No matter. The story of the family of German dukes who eventually produced the English heir was fascinating enough in its own right. The novel is a sprawling, absorbing family saga which chiefly tells the tale of how Sophia Dorothea came to marry her coarse, vindictive cousin George Lewis and eventually was imprisoned by him for 30 years.

The events of the book revolve around four women:

• Duchess Sophia of Hanover - Mother of George Lewis and cousin to Charles II of England, she is an intensely practical woman with fixed notions of how nobility should conduct itself. She ignores the affairs of her husband, Duke Ernest Augustus, as long as she reigns supreme at their court. However, she never forgets how Ernest's brother, George William, her original betrothed, spurned her, giving up his birthright and inheritance to Ernest if he married her in George William's place. Because of that rejection, she harbors an irrational dislike of George William's beloved duchess, Eleonore, and of her daughter, Sophia Dorothea.
• Eleonore d'Olbreuse - A French noblewoman with whom George William unexpectedly falls in love after committing himself to a life of bachelorhood. She causes George William to regret his rash promise to his brother that he would never marry or have children to claim his lands and titles. She works tirelessly for the interests and happy future of their only child, Sophia Dorothea, the Princess of Celle.
• Clara von Platen - Ernest Augustus's scheming mistress who endlessly plots against Sophia Dorothea, first to put the girl's dowry in her lover's hands and then to ruin her utterly because Sophia loves a man Clara desires, Count Konigsmarck of Sweden.
• Sophia Dorothea - The beautiful, pampered daughter of George William and Eleonore whose life takes a tragic turn when she is forced to marry her despised cousin George Lewis.

The first half of the book focuses on the brothers George William and Ernest Augustus, who shared adventures in their youth traveling around Europe and bedding beautiful women. When their older brother's wife proves barren, it falls to George William, the second eldest, to produce a heir for their family. Horrified by the idea of marriage, George William begs his younger brother to marry in his stead, promising that Ernest Augustus and his children will eventually inherit everything.

However, the brothers' relationship becomes strained when George William falls in love with Eleonore and endangers their agreement. George William also retains his dukedom of Celle, a richer province than Ernest Augustus's Hanover. Although Eleonore plans a marriage for her daughter to another German prince, Ernest Augustus, his wife Sophia and mistress Clara scheme together to persuade George William to give her to her cousin, the thoroughly disagreeable and ill-mannered George Lewis, so the wealth of Celle will eventually come to their family. George William, a weak and easily manipulated man, agrees, a decision which will have tragic consequences and lose him the love of his wife and daughter.

The book's second half focuses on how Sophia Dorothea tries to make the best of her marriage to the uncouth, philandering George Lewis. She is continually made wretched, however, by George's flaunting of his mistresses and Clara's constant scheming. Clara is a thoroughly evil character and, consequently, one of the most interesting in the book. I wish Plaidy had told more of the story from her point of view and explored her motives in more depth. Clara is like the wicked stepmother in Snow White - she wants everyone to consider her "the fairest one of all." Sophia Dorothea's youth, beauty and charm all threaten her. When Sophia falls in love with Count Konigsmarck, a man Clara desires, the princess's fate is sealed.

Sophia is the weakest of the book's primary female characters because of her impossible position. Her story serves to highlight how miserable life could be for noblewomen in unhappy marriages - their husbands could philander at will, but if they took lovers, they risked losing everything. Her sheltered childhood left her utterly incapable of dealing with the cunning plots of others, and her happiness with Count Konigsmarck could not be anything but short-lived. I felt sorry for her throughout the book as I knew her story would have a tragic ending.

Plaidy's prose became a bit dry at times, and I felt she rushed through the last quarter of the book, but the novel was an absorbing read overall that made me want to continue to the next in the series. My grade: B

March reading

February was not a good reading month for me ... so bring on March! I have a stack of books set aside in the bedroom that I can't wait to dive into.
A new blog, Royal Intrigue, has just appeared to celebrate the writings of Jean Plaidy. The blog authors are sponsoring a 2009 Plaidy challenge. I put the banner on my sidebar to remind myself to read some more Plaidy in the months ahead.

I'll be back with more reviews as soon as I get some reading done!

Final book reviews for 2007

I have just three books left to review for 2007, with the clock ticking toward 2008 and, hopefully, a new year of great reads!

Perfume: The Story of A Murderer by Patrick Suskind is one of those books I'm glad I read (although it isn't one of my favorites from the past year) simply because it was unlike anything I've ever read before.

Set in 18th-century France, Suskind's dark fable explores the psyche of a man who possesses the world's most powerful and refined sense of smell. Throughout his life, Grenouille is obsessed with scents, longing to name them, to manipulate them, and finally to possess them.

The book moved slowly for me at first, but Suskind's evocative writing and his forays into the depths of Grenouille's black soul kept me turning pages to see how it all would end. Other characters, including Baldini the master perfumer and the amateur scientist Taillade-Espinasse, lent some sly humor to the story.

As Grenouille moved closer to the culmination of his obsession (and to the murders referred to in the title) I turned pages faster and read the last quarter of the book in one sitting. Everything fell into place for a horrifying, but completely appropriate ending. My grade: B+

I looked forward for much of the year to the re-release of Jean Plaidy's The Reluctant Queen, about Anne Neville, wife and queen to Richard III (published by Three Rivers Press in late August). Unfortunately, I found the novel a disappointment.

I hoped Plaidy's telling would better illuminate the life and character of Anne Neville, daughter to the powerful earl of Warwick, "The Kingmaker," who helped Edward IV to the throne before turning his coat and backing the Lancastrian heir, the son of Henry VI and Margaret of Anjou. Although the historical Anne had little control over her own fate, she lived in an especially intriguing and colorful age, during the English Wars of the Roses.

However, the Anne of Plaidy's novel was a curiously flat character who spent most of her time fretting about her future, or Richard of Gloucester's destiny, or both. It read a bit like a personal diary kept by a dull woman with no aptitude for writing beyond stating bare facts. Even her frequent declarations of love and devotion for Richard seemed rather muted and uninspiring.

I did appreciate one aspect of the novel. Plaidy did a fine job of making Richard's personality ambiguous toward the end, so I, as a reader, was never sure I could believe Anne's praise of him. Plaidy left the question open of whether Richard murdered his royal nephews, but skillfully suggested Anne might have a blind spot regarding Richard's ambition or his true personality. My grade: C-

Finally, I finished The Amber Spyglass by Philip Pullman so I could start the new year with a different (hopefully better) read.

When I reviewed The Subtle Knife, I was angry at Pullman for writing such a terrible follow up to The Golden Compass. Concluding the trilogy with The Amber Spyglass just made me sad. The author took what could have been a wonderful fantasy story and lost it in a muddle of plot holes, diatribes against Christianity and logic-defying scenes that occurred so often, it was laughable.

It's such a shame, particularly since The Amber Spyglass contained glimmers of the wonderful writing and strong characterizations that made the first book so appealing.

Will, at least, becomes a more multifaceted character. Lyra regains some of her former spark. Pullman's descriptions are often still beautiful, although his world building is much less effective because he jumps from plot point to plot point without giving anything adequate time to develop.

A few aspects of The Amber Spyglass intrigued me, such as Will and Lyra's journey to the land of the dead, or Mary Malone's discovery of the mulefa tribe. But with a tangle of loose ends left abandoned at the novel's end, these developments seemed rather pointless.

The Amber Spyglass was not as tedious a read as The Subtle Knife, but I stopped counting the plot holes about halfway through and abandoned hope that Pullman would adequately explain anything. (Some quick examples: We never understand quite how Lyra and Will can dominate the harpies in the land of the dead and convince them to abandon their bargain with The Authority. And it's never explained how Mary learned to communicate fairly complex ideas to the mulefa within a matter of days.)

Pullman's chief villain, Mrs. Coulter, inexplicably changed in the final book, sacrificing herself for Lyra's sake at the end. Where in the world did that change of heart come from? I don't buy that this cold, ruthless, power-hungry woman suddenly was overwhelmed by latent mother love.

I had no qualms whatsoever about encountering anti-Christian, anti-religious or anti-authoritarian themes. In fact, I hoped the trilogy would offer strong arguments for discussion. Instead, Pullman chose to rant about the supposed evils of organized religion without backing up his assertions. He made blanket statements such as "The Authority and his churches have always tried to keep (minds) closed." Maybe they have and maybe they haven't, but Pullman offered no examples either way. His "arguments" would not convince the average high-school debate class.

Again, the Church and the Authority seemed like nonentities to most people in Pullman's many worlds. Only Lord Asriel, Mrs. Coulter and the individuals fighting on either side of the war against the Kingdom of Heaven seemed to care about religion at all. Pullman never adequately explained why Lord Asriel wanted to destroy The Authority, or why Mrs. Coulter worked so tirelessly for the Church. (And how did she gain such power in an organization dominated by men?)

The Authority himself appears in only two scenes, with no rationale for why he supposedly strove to dominate people's minds and hearts and imprisoned them after death in a bleak, hopeless existence. Far from being a towering figure of evil, The Authority was portrayed as a decrepit, fragile, senile, harmless angel.

The Authority's second-in-command, Metatron, the prince of angels, a being described as having a towering intellect and centuries worth of knowledge, was done in by a pretty face and a lame seduction. And the eye rolling by no means ended there. After about a thousand pages in the trilogy, the fate of all the worlds rested on a pre-pubescent love affair that read like a teenage romance novel. (Oh brother.)

I'm longing to lose myself in another book to get the taste of these novels out of my mouth. The Amber Spyglass gets a D grade, and the entire trilogy gets an F for beginning with a great story, becoming hopelessly tedious in the middle book and concluding with an utter failure of imagination.

The last queen of France

I have not yet made time to watch Sofia Coppola's Marie Antoinette. But early this summer, I finished three books in a row about the much-maligned queen and her family.

Marie Antoinette: Princess of Versailles by Kathryn Lasky is part of the Royal Diaries series for young readers. The novel provided a good introduction to the tragic queen's life.

Maria Antonia's diary begins just before she must journey from Vienna to marry France's dauphin. She leaves everything Austrian behind -- her clothes, jewels, even her name -- only to find her dream prince is an awkward, unattractive youth. Then she must navigate the rigid, often ridiculous etiquette of the court of Versailles.

Kathryn Lasky presents a credible portrait of Marie Antoinette as a girl struggling to hold onto her own, unique identity in a world of royal duty. I only wished the book had shown more of Antoinette's inner feelings as she left her native Austria forever to become a French princess. I am always fascinated by what princesses went through in leaving their homes and countries forever to marry strangers in foreign lands.

My grade: B

Flaunting, Extravagant Queen is the kind of book that makes me wish history could be changed. Jean Plaidy made me care about the doomed Marie Antoinette and her family. Their story is truly stranger than fiction, and Plaidy wrung every ounce of drama from it, leaving me breathlessly turning pages even though I knew Antoinette would end up sans tete.

Plaidy portrayed the last queen of France as a multifaceted, very human woman: good-hearted, fun-loving, dignified and courageous, yet temperamentally incapable of submitting to the rigid etiquette of Versailles. She also brought to life the glittering French court, the disaffected people of Paris and the terrifying days of bloody revolution. While reading the novel, I felt like an eyewitness to the events of Antoinette's life, right up to her last ride to the guillotine. My grade: A

Plaidy, who also wrote as Victoria Holt, Philippa Carr and others, was luckily quite prolific, and I have many other books of hers waiting on Mount TBR. Incredibly, her books span 835 years of English and European history, from the Norman conquest of 1066 to the death of Queen Victoria in 1901.

The Lost King of France by Deborah Cadbury was the best of these three books, although it was horrifying and heartbreaking to read. It focused on Louis-Charles, second son of Marie Antoinette who became heir to the French throne when his older brother died. Within 5 years, he had lost his parents and became the focus of a nation's hatred and abuse. In 1795, revolutionary leaders declared the boy was dead.

Or was he? Rumors sprang up persistently he had escaped, and in later years, several pretenders claimed to be the rightful kings of France.

Cadbury vividly describes the monarchical missteps that led to the French revolution, the royal family's tense days of captivity, the execution of king and queen and the nearly unbearable sufferings of the son they left behind. She ably guides the reader through the years following the dauphin's supposed death, portraying the various pretenders and the many historians and scientists who struggled to solve the mystery. Finally, she presents the results of recent DNA testing on a shriveled heart, believed to have come from the dauphin's body.

I recommend this riveting book to all history buffs. It inspired me to seek out more information on the French Revolution and the royal family -- more for the TBR pile!

My grade: A+