This was really really lovely and I really really liked it so much. I thank everyone who recommended this one, and look forward to reading the next onThis was really really lovely and I really really liked it so much. I thank everyone who recommended this one, and look forward to reading the next one when I’m in need of a bit of soothing. My only disappointment is that given the ending- as lovely as it is- I’m not sure I can hope to spend more time with Dora and Elias and I wish I could. I wish this was a trilogy or one of those family saga romance series just so I could watch them interact more. One of the more genuine relationships I’ve read in awhile, where I felt like I truly got why it worked. And on top of all it’s gentleness and earnestness, it even had time for nuance with Vanessa and Albert. Just lovely. Really well done. I can’t believe Amazon had it for only $3! ...more
This is my third Morgan. Two main things to say, really: First, I liked it better thThis review first appeared on my blog Shoulda Coulda Woulda Books.
This is my third Morgan. Two main things to say, really: First, I liked it better than either of the others by him I've read so far, and second, I think I understand why so many people seem to have a problem with him.
This book centers on a thirty-year old single woman named Lydia Templeton. Of course, this being a novel that models itself after Regency social comedies, that "single" status matters rather a lot to the plot. Ten years ago, Lydia rejected Lewis Durrant, eligible local bachelor, for a mixed bag of reasons that become clearer over the course of the novel- a major one being the fact that, at an adventurous, intelligent, defiant twenty, with life just opening up before you, marrying the man who lives next door that it makes a lot of sense for you to marry is pretty low on the list of things that one actually wants to do. In any case, it's ten years later, and Lydia is enjoying a comfortable life with her scholar father. But then her old friend asks her to go to Bath to be a companion to a young heiress who is making her debut into society and choosing between various men. Lydia's role as a "wise old woman" when she is way too young for the job commences, and obviously, many, many complications follow for her and everyone around her.
I thought this novel was far superior to the previous efforts I've read by him. Unlike in A Little Folly, Morgan did a much better job of creating naturalistic dialogue, actions, and thoughts for the characters that sounded as if they might be things that people would actually say rather than say only in a staged play of the time period. In part because of this, also unlike many of characters in Folly, I had absolutely no trouble attaching to the main characters or caring about their stories getting proper resolution. Morgan also created a spirited, intelligent heroine with obvious flaws, whose flaws become even more obvious over the course of the novel, but who nonetheless the reader wants to stick with until she learns and grows from them. (I really thought Morgan did good work with showing, in particular, Durrant's perspective without ever actually letting us inside his head.)
Morgan is also proved again that he is capable of turning memorable and witty phrases throughout the novel- this time I was even surprised into laughter more than once while reading him- first time that's happened. Moreover, his narrative voice, that marvelously magisterial third person omniscient thing he's great at imitating, continues the best part of the whole thing. I was just sad there was far less of it this novel. I would have been glad for the book to be several chapters longer if we just inserted more of that and, honestly, even amplified it so that it became Thackeray-esque, long chapters of zoomed-out commentary on the proceedings. In addition, he has a great feeling for the rhythm of the plot and when it should begin to wind up or wind down and just how much. He's done the work, he's spent the time here, and it shows.
But, and this is going to be a fairly big caveat, I also maybe totally get some reasons why people ultimately don't love his work, even if they recognize his undeniable talent. I felt it myself at several points and nearly gave up reading at one point it pissed me off so much.
First of all, I'm increasingly suspicious Morgan holds himself just a little bit above the company of some of his readers. He is totally fine with demonstrating how well he understands his genre, but also makes it clear that there's some nonsense about it he will not be participating in, thank you! For example, this is now the second straight book he's had his characters rant for him about how silly the Regency-era slang is- he writes a paragraph of it to prove he knows it and can do it, and then proceeds to have his characters refuse to utter it for the rest of the book, even where it might be appropriate for his characters. Because throwing away a legitimate means of characterizing someone and amusing your readers because you feel you're too good for it seems like the right plan? This is a relatively minor example, but there are bigger ones, such as when he has his main character essentially dismiss the entirety of the Regency romance genre as just too unbearably silly for words. I think he makes fun of his audience a little bit, and not in a loving way where he's one of them. It seems smug, like he's just analyzed readers of the genre and cleverly figured out how to be a success- while of course also scolding readers who like Regency-set novels for inferior reasons, like rooooooooooomance. (*sigh implied here*)
Second, and this is a bigger problem, Morgan's novels have problems on a purely structural level. I think he wants to avoid writing straight updates of the Austen novels, so he mixes things up and puts in Heyer elements in an attempt to create something new. But what often ends up happening is that you end up feeling like you've started to read one novel, wandered off into the borders of another one for a side adventure in the middle, and finally ended up in a third that doesn't make a whole hell of a lot of sense given the first two novels it seemed like we were in. At the beginning we were reading Pride and Prejudice mixed with Persuasion, where Lizzie has become old and made some mistakes along the way. Then it became one of Heyer's Bath romances about ladies past their prime mixed with Emma, where it suddenly became evident that Lydia was more Emma Woodhouse than Lizzie, and was definitely no part of Anne Elliott. That could have been a brilliant twist, and for a hot second it really was- but it turned out that while Morgan made that brilliant shift for his heroine, he left all the other characters behind in the Bath novel or suddenly turned them into Emma characters to make the plot work, when they had been P&P or S&S or Heyer characters with no connection to Austen at all. For example, one of the perfectly blameless male suitors was suddenly forced to become Mr. Elton to make the whole thing work- no unsuspecting and wholly delightful character deserves such a fate! Similarly, a perfectly awful Willoughby/Heyer silly melancholic-poetic character suddenly became the likeable version of this archetype- which would have been a great transformation to watch slowly, over the course of the novel, but was infuriating to be told happened off-stage, over the course of a few pages, with no previous sign that it might happen having been given. By the time we get to the conclusion, we've got Emma Woodhouse marrying Mr. Darcy and we're wondering what the hell these two characters are doing in the same room to begin with. While I appreciate that there are a lot of great raw ingredients to work with in this genre, I really think that Morgan needed to decide exactly which novel he was writing and stick with it from beginning to end, rather than bouncing around until his characters and his plot didn't ring true any longer.
Finally, basically what this ends up meaning is that Morgan often sets expectations for himself really high at the beginning of the novel- people start to judge it using, if not higher, than at least different standards (this ain't no run-of-the-mill Regency romance- you told us so yourself!), and unfortunately, his writing is uneven enough that it sets the reader up for disappointment. I said he was capable of great, witty lines. He is- but only at scattered points throughout the novel- there are definitely some memorably clunky parts, some characterization that doesn't quite work, some dialogue that feels off, some plot that doesn't make organic sense. Oh, none of it is quite terrible, but it's just off enough to make you feel disappointed, because he got you to expecting more of him, because he's shown he's sometimes capable of great quality writing- he turned on the part of your brain that's into that- and then it abruptly goes away. It may come back again, but it leaves again enough times for you to register the drop in quality.
I would still like to read Indiscretion but I think I will have to make sure my expectations are adjusted and decline to get too excited when his narrative powers kick into their highest gear- I wonder whether he will be able to sustain the quality, or to refrain from looking down his nose at what he's writing for long enough to improve some of the problems with it. We'll see- if nothing else, I still have to say it remains the best of the Austen homages I've read- a low bar, but something nonetheless.
Man, I hope the writer of this book was cackling as she wrote this. That's hThis review originally appeared on my blog, Shoulda, Coulda, Woulda Books.
Man, I hope the writer of this book was cackling as she wrote this. That's how I pictured her, especially as the book wore on, just sitting there, rubbing her hands and laughing as she typed, going, "Ooooh, I know what I'll do to them now!" I mean, that's what I would have been doing as I wrote this. I don't know if I could have restrained myself, because I would have been very pleased with just how clever I was. Maybe she could restrain herself, because doubtless she is less shocked about how great she is- I don't know. But anyway, I hope that gives you an idea of the spirit of the thing, because that's the best part of it.
I have to be honest, I wasn't quite sure about this one when I started. The tone seemed forced, like someone who had studied a great deal of Jane Austen and read a lot of Regency romances and was painstakingly trying to recreate the sentence structure, with the result that her characters sounded a good deal more wooden than they should (even the excellent concept of a protagonist- Zacharias Wythe, the somewhat hapless, well meaning Sorcerer Royal the book focuses on). And then of course, there was all the exposition to get set up and getting our protagonists, heretofore with no reason to be anywhere near each other, together. That part was okay- I kept going more for the concept than anything else- magic is commonplace in England, there's a whole long standing structure of magicians and familiars in place, it's tied up with politics and acknowledged as A Thing, but very much tied into an otherwise recognizable Regency society that can't be bothered to be that impressed (too busy being impressed with the knots in their cravats, obviously). You guys know that Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell is one of my favorite books, right? I couldn't love this concept more. I was going to stick around until the end (especially since it was clearly going to deal with some racial and class issues that simmered under the surface in that one in a more blatant way, and there were some cleverly placed unanswered mystery breadcrumbs placed out early on- well done, Cho.)
But then I hit what my kindle told me was about 40%. Remember how I told you guys reading JS&MN and losing patience to just hang out for Strange? Same damn thing here. Then Strange showed up and things got amazing pretty quickly and never got less amazing until the last page. I laughed out loud once, then twice, and then traded gasping and laughing for a sustained period pretty much almost until the end.
Okay, so basic plot: Zacharias Wythe is the Sorcerer Royal, like I told you above- but he inherited his position from his mentor and father figure, Sir Stephen Wythe, in suspicious circumstances that were never quite explained. He is clearly the most powerful magician living, so, as yet, he still holds the staff of office- but there is a louder and louder rebellion stirring amongst England's magicians about his leadership (not helped, of course, by the fact that this is the early 1800s and Zacharias is of African birth and appearance and some Englishmen don't like acknowledging that any "foreigner" can do anything better than they can- hey- actually, maybe this isn't just because it's the early 1800s. Ringing some bells). This situation is only made more precarious by the fact that England seems to be in the process of losing the plentiful magic it once had, and has been for decades. No new magical creatures or familiars have appeared, and the borders to Fairy have been slowly, but inexorably closing.
Enter Prunella Gentleman, aka my new fictional best friend. She works at a magical school for young ladies where they are mostly taught to hide their gifts and pretend like magic doesn't exist (think of it like one of those boarding schools where rich people send embarrassing daughters who get pregnant young or show signs of mental health difficulties). She has lead a precarious life on the sufferance of someone who took her in- but then, early in the novel, she makes a discovery that changes her entire life and throws her in the path of Zacharias- leading to life-altering consequences for both of them. The surprise is so good and her course of action is so audacious and amazing I don't want to even hint at it, but suffice it to say that it leads to them making an amazing team in more ways than one.
Aside from the wonderful plot and an outstanding cast of supporting characters in the best Regency farce fashion, (Rollo! Damerell! Aunt Georgiana!) what's really wonderful in the back half of the book is Cho's increased confidence and ability to handle the tone, dialogue and rhythms of the genres that she's paying homage to- both Regency farce and epic fantasy. She really does a great job with ramping up the ridiculousness to just the right volume, while never quite forgetting the serious threats that underlie all of this conflict.
(BTW-Man, I hope this book is an indication that this mixed genre is here to stay. Can I just make up one of these cool new subgenre names for it to help marketers? "Bonnet fantasy"? "Carriage-wheels-and-magic-wands fantasy"? Hmmmm. Come on guys, we have to be able to come up with something to encourage people to do this more.)
Not to mention the serious girl power in this book. Prunella, my new BFF, is, as I mentioned, utterly fantastic, and I love the way the author goes about showing that to us. She never needs her to be admired and stared at as the belle of the ball (at least not more than briefly, before something goes terribly wrong), she doesn't need her to necessarily be Mary Sue. She just needs her to be determined, clever, to know what she wants and not be afraid of stating it (whether it's "feminine" or "feminist" or not), and of course to be a whole lot of fun. Although Zacharias is our ostensible hero, and so much of the book is from his point of view- and he really does a great job of playing the straight man and the tragic hero we want out of our epic fantasies, Prunella is really the true farcical heart of the novel- she gives it life and insanity and the heart palpitations we want out of an adventure. I told you guys, she's Strange- but way funnier, more self-aware, but just as ferocious when she needs to be. There's some pitiless stuff in here, and she's nobody's perfect heroine, and man, does she screw up, but it's enjoyable from beginning to end.
I was never more delighted than when I saw, in parentheses after the title, that this was only Sorcerer Royal #1- which hopefully means there's more to come. I don't think it's spoiler-y of me to say that I want to see how Prunella continues her reign of terror and mayhem in the next book and who she shocks to their core next.
I am sorry I was ever wary of this, anyone who ever recommended this to me! More fool I, please be as smug as you like! You deserve it....more
I thought this was going to be a bit better than it was. I was delighted by some of the Thackeray-esque tones that I thought I was encountering when II thought this was going to be a bit better than it was. I was delighted by some of the Thackeray-esque tones that I thought I was encountering when I first entered the book, the wry omniscient narrator. But that disappeared quickly. After the initial establishing plot involving smuggling and rakish doings, I thought that the whole thing went downhill rather quickly. And even that plot was got rid of with a flick of the hand later when the time needed to be spent with the romances rather than with any sort of extraneous adventures. There were some isolated sentences that I remember making me smile. But really the characters were flat, the dialogue was rather stilted and careful, and the conclusion, as ever with a romance, foregone. I finished it and it was fine. But it turned out more forgettable than I thought it would be. Like a first draft outline, I thought. And a perfectly good one too. Needed the details sketched in, that's all....more
Alas, once more, my dreams of Austen grandeur were not realized! I might have known. It's my own fault, I suppose! They keep doin' me wrong, and I keeAlas, once more, my dreams of Austen grandeur were not realized! I might have known. It's my own fault, I suppose! They keep doin' me wrong, and I keep coming back for more. But... but.. they just hit so hard because they love Austen so much! They just... do it wrong! They will learn! One day!
No but seriously, this book wasn't that bad. It was fine. It falls into the less offensive of the two major groups of Austen sequels. The first group is the books that think the major thing that Jane didn't deal with was sex and clearly our experience will be enhanced by knowing that Darcy spent the next several years sexin' up Elizabeth on every piece of antique furniture in his house and perhaps outside too! Next to the pond with the wet shirt! Which he wears all the time now in a symbol of his unbridled passion. Because that's what that character would do! And totally what we should want them to do!
No, this book fell into the second category. These books tend to believe that the good thing about Jane Austen novels is that they are Clean, and Moral and Upright, with no Bad Language about Inappropriate Things such as you find all over novels written by Kids Today with their hair and their rock music. These sorts of books think that Austen's novels are morality tales that exalt the virtues of the simple, Christian life, where people do the Right Thing. I mean.. it's not offensive. It's just... not correct (have you people met Miss Bates? Or Mrs. Bennett?). And boring. Unfortunately, I just didn't feel that Cornthwaite had much new to offer with this one. There's a lot of material lifted straight from Austen, where she just provides some extra thoughts from Knightley's point of view to pad it out. Then there are the scenes she places in between to show us that Knightley is great. I love me some Mr. Knightley, but all we find out in this book is that he is a Nice Man who does charitable acts and hangs out with the vicar in his parish. It reads like an book length argument about how Nice Guys Are Sexy, too! And the way she writes his discovery of his love for Emma is... almost like she shares the priorities of the first group, without getting into Inappropriate Things. She has him gush and think in this awful purple prose, and I'm sorry. I think Mr. Knightley is amazing, but he is NOT sitting there by the fire thinking about his grand plan to win Emma's love, calling her his "divine angel," and whatever else she has him do. The inside of Knightley's head should be a sensible, ironic, intelligent place. I would think someone so concerned with keeping things PG would have agreed with me about that- nope. Just as focused on obsession as the others, and just as silly about it. It's just that her fantasy has more to do with dudes who quote from the Bible and win the morality lottery with every decision. I'm seriously trying to think of more to tell you about this book, but the honest truth is that there's really not much more to it.
I think I might, in the end, prefer the first category now that I think about it. At least I'd have a whole book of flowery metaphors for sexytimes for comic relief! ...more
The pairing: Older Supposedly Sensible Heroine/Masterful All-Knowing Calm As You Please Hero
Supporting Cast: High Spirited Younger Brother, The DeceptThe pairing: Older Supposedly Sensible Heroine/Masterful All-Knowing Calm As You Please Hero
Supporting Cast: High Spirited Younger Brother, The Deceptively Weak Dandy that one "cannot quite like", Romantic Older Friend of Heroine, Motivationlessly Evil Relative, Exposition Providing Brother
The Plot: Supposedly Sensible Heroine marries Motivationlessly Evil Relative on his death bed (which he's brought to after an accidental wound in a fight with High Spirited Young Relative) because All Knowing Hero does not want to be suspected of wanting to inherit his estate. It turns out Motivationlessly Evil Relative was involved with French spies! A missing document brought up by Exposition Providing Brother was thought to be in his hands when he died! Housebreakers! Secret passageways! But where is that document??
... it falls out pretty much as you would imagine.
I found the heroine's endless whining about the "outrageous" situations she finds herself in really annoying- especially as it seems that that is 90% of her lines, and therefore found it really unbelievable that the hero would fall for her. The only person I liked was the High Spirited Younger Brother, and I've seen Heyer write that character better elsewhere. I've also seen her do the gothic-esque mystery thing better elsewhere.
Give this one a pass. Read The Talisman Ring instead....more
Exposed yourself as a Jane Austen wannabe, that is. One who is a bit sniffily about the fact that Jane (quiPatrick O'Brian, you have exposed yourself.
Exposed yourself as a Jane Austen wannabe, that is. One who is a bit sniffily about the fact that Jane (quite unfairly, I'm sure!) did not give us the thoughts of the male half of the regency romance equation.
The first 200 pages of this novel do really read like a historical romance. Albeit one with a very masculine touch- there's just as much swearing and angst and tinkering with the natural world in odd ways as ever there was before, but now its all in the presence of Ladies. The male half of the romance ncludes a number of entirely un-romantic things, most of which are questions of money and position, in much greater detail than one would get in a normal romance- things that a man very legitimately could not propose to a woman without. Also, Stephen's analysis of his own romantic torment is truly not to be missed- we get to see the Enlightenment trying to do a lab analysis of love. Wonderful. O'Brian also deals with the fact that these are men. Men who like sex. He's much more open about the slightly more adult sections of Polite Society who deal with this kind of thing. For example, Diana Villiers, the Whore of the Madonna/Whore pair that are the main females of this novel (there are others, but they're mostly easily dismissed cariactures), embodies a certain type of woman who took advantage of the strict proprieties to advance her own very slender chances of finding financial security and someone to look after her. As you can see, for all of his generally masculine world, he shows a surprising sensitivity to the delicacy of the feminine world as well. There's several very good depictions of the nuances of the social heirarchy in provincial England, and the various things that could immediately put one up or down that ladder- money and rank, of course, but also family associations, number of suitors, age, the material of one's dress, etc.
The most interesting status depiction, of course, is that of the service of the Navy as a whole. Jane herself dealt with the interesting mobility of a service of men who could rise instantly to the top and sink back down again within weeks (Persuasion)- this rapid status change was something new and unusual, something that rarely happened in the closed ranks of the Upper Ten Thousand. The book as a whole really focuses on a bunch of uncouth Navy men try to mend their ways to fit in on land, and the various levels of difficulty they find adjusting to the ways that people are judged and what matters here as opposed to Out There on the ocean waters, as well as the fact that even off land, you can never quite get away from all your problems there. Also, O'Brian brings up again and again throughout his books the fact that war really did change many people's lives for the better (if you're cool with probably losing a limb, at least, to get what you want). He doesn't let us forget that. Jack Aubrey is of course the most extreme example of this, but there are plenty of other ones brought up on every page of the book. Its one of the more interesting ins and outs of his work, and it is the forefront of the entire book.
... But never fear, O'Brian fans who are in it for the swashbuckling action and adventure! There's plenty of that to come as soon as our fellows get off land (come on, that's not really a spoiler). There's also some espionage, some fights, some excellently stupid bromantical angst between Jack and Stephen (they almost break up, oh noes!), and lots of running away from, beating up on, and dodging debt collectors (one of those scenes was my fav).
I think the quality of the book remained the same- the only reason I give it four stars instead of five is that I already know how good these books are, so I didn't get quite the same jolt of expectations surpassed x1000 that I did last time....more
This should really be retitled Being the Private Correspondence of Two Families... Which Explains Why It Would Only Be Of Interest to These Two FamiliThis should really be retitled Being the Private Correspondence of Two Families... Which Explains Why It Would Only Be Of Interest to These Two Families. Come on, book, everyone knows the Tolstoy rule of happy families: "All happy families are alike." Which is why one could not be interested in the slightest in reading hundreds and hundreds of pages about them- especially when the excuse of a plot couldn't be more lame, or less suspenseful. Oh, please, do not get me started on the characters- or rather, lack thereof.
I will safely say this, authors: Jane Austen is not proud of you. She awards you no points, and may God have mercy on your fangirlishness that ended in giving the words "In the style of Jane Austen" on the back cover a bad name. If little girls read this first and turn away from Jane in consequence, that's on you people!
(PS, Spoiler- (view spoiler)[The mute little girl they rescue from possible gypsies turns out to be Queen Victoria as a child. Yes, for real. (hide spoiler)])...more
You know, I've often been annoyed by the fact that so many times, I never get to experience something the way it was intended, or to its fullest. BecaYou know, I've often been annoyed by the fact that so many times, I never get to experience something the way it was intended, or to its fullest. Because someone else always gets there first, and someone's else's eyes are always put in front of mine before I get the chance to do it for myself (I recall writing a very emotional paper on Vermeer's Girl With a Pearl Earring, the Chevalier book and the movie that followed along these lines. Yeah, I was a silly teenager). I often see the parodies of many things before I see the things themselves- but I guess that's both postmoderism and a modern culture that endlessly, endlessly reaches into the past to mine for stories to sell in the present. But in this case, I choose not to be annoyed by the fact that it was a blonde-ified Russell Crowe who first introduced me to Patrick O'Brian's Aubrey/Maturin series because once you experience these books for themselves, there's really no way that any reinterpretation can top the greatness of the real thing.
Whatever I had expected from this series, I got something entirely different. I don't know what I had in my head- some swords, some 'Huzzah!'s and sweeping music, set against a background of crashing waves and imperialist-era English bravado. And oh sure, that was all there, but not until much later, and I didn't even notice it tick off on my register of preconceived parameters.
Master and Commander opens with Jack Aubrey's mental impressions of attending a Polite Society musical concert- something that wouldn't have a place in any other seafaring tale, but is indispensible for this particular story. Without giving anything too much away, the story follows Jack Aubrey and the physician Stephen Maturin through various adventures and misadventures of the naval life during the Wars with the French (the book opens in 1800, technically right before Napoleon's total control of the situation), and deals with everything, in terms of events, from the dissection of a dolphin to the etiquette attending relations among naval officers and their responsibilities, relations with enemies (some of the scenes with opposing French officers were exquisitely hilarious as well as revealing of history), to rip roaring (and incredibly suspenseful pageturning) naval engagements of every size and scale. We read the naval engagements out loud, and I wouldnt've had it any other way- don't miss out on someone's dramatic, impatient voice trying to get to the next words when reading this one.
In terms of larger themes- there are a staggering lot of them dealt with in this book. This is not simply an adventure tale by a long shot. The characters both outwardly and psychologically deal with a range of issues that torment them in various ways. Just to deal with a few- the very complicated and paradoxically precarious and set in stone class system of the time, the nature of nationalism and nations, the effects of a life of violence upon the men who undergo it and a society that depends upon it, the Irish characters that have to deal with the fallout of the Irish Rebellion and general inter-cultural and inter-religious politics, money money money that makes the world go 'round, the proper motivations of a man, and ultimately, the questions of identity that endlessly pick apart these men's brilliant facades. Set perfectly at a time when the Age of Enlightenment was still the dominant mirror of the time, but with Romanticism and where it comes from easily to be seen peeking around a corner- Maturin and Aubrey perfectly straddle this era, with all the best that can be from those particular traditions, and some of their flaws as well.
O'Brian is a brilliant illustrator of character and particularly of the inner life of the mind, and is able to express everything about his characters that needs to be said through a combination of thoughts and action that both move the plot along, and bring give us depth into the life of the men and women who populate this novel. (As a caveat for this, there are a few characters such as the avaricious Mr. Ellis and Molly Harte, who do suffer from a bit of stereotyping, but I'm willing to accept them as ciphers because they're such entertaining ones.) He's able to show us what these people would be like to grow up squabbling with, to sit next to at dinner, and deal with professionally. (His evocations of Jack Aubrey's enthusiasms and despairs are particular favorites of mine, I want to wrap them up in a big bear hug and never let them go.) I feel I've been acquainted with whole people who are not mere Heroes Who Wave About a Shining Sword, or Villains With Moustaches- and yet, I feel as if I have read a novel that would normally be inhabited by those people, if you see what I'm saying. With somewhat largely the same tones and people and events... but I'm getting filled in about parts that another author couldn't give a shit about, by the guy who writes awesome footnotes a la Susanna Clarke, which are better than the story sometimes.
And of course, I cannot say enough about the language. Please, I beg of you, do not be frightened off by O'Brian's incredibly researched naval cant and constant incantations of ropes, sales, decks, and navigational terms. I reached the end of the book still not knowing what about half the terms here meant, and do you know what? I don't really even think it matters. I looked up some of the terms that were coming up every page, sure, and do that if you must, but don't give up! Just listen to it, just imagine someone's voice saying it- you'll figure it out like those first grade exercises in context clues, you'll get the gist of it. O'Brian will take care of you, I promise. Just listen to the singsong tone- this man /loves/ language, and it doesn't need a rhyming sailor to tell me that. He could have written this as Rhapsodies on a Naval Theme, really. It would have been a beautiful symphony. Just go with it- it doesn't matter if they're turning 45 degrees to the right to tack into the wind coming from the mainland in order to swing around the back of a ship- trust me, when they fire the guns and bust up the stern, you'll know what's going on, or you'll figure it out pretty quickly. Of course, you do have to pay attention, and you should- truly, this man's manipulation of the English language (and frequently, corruptions of it) is something to see.
So yeah, I think I'm ready if there's a Robot Chicken Does Jack Aubrey. Pretty sure nothing can kill my totally unironic love for these amazing books. Can't wait to keep reading!
(PS- History sticklers, yes, I did classify this as "Regency", and yes I am aware that the actual Regency does not begin until 1811, but I'm using the looser Regency definition that encompases culture and thought and George III's decline, even if the Regency wasn't official yet. So there! I sniff in your general direction!)...more
Not as evocative as the first. It doesn't pull you in when you start it, and it doesn't hook you afterwards. Unfortunately, the characters are rather Not as evocative as the first. It doesn't pull you in when you start it, and it doesn't hook you afterwards. Unfortunately, the characters are rather boring in this- it might have something to do with the format- there's a switch from the epistolary layout of the first to a diary/testimony layout, and it really is not at all effective. It makes the story seem flat and dull. It doesn't help that the two title characters have become even more boring- Kate has turned into a wilting flower who only lives for her may-un, and Cecelia is a perfect paragon of sense who seems to enjoy condescending to her cousin when possible. Their husbands are perfectly interchangeable, except one likes to be a bit more demonstrative in a Byron sort of way, and the other is more commonplace, and works for Wellington (which made me roll my eyes pretty high up into my head. He makes an appearance, and his character is just as boring as the rest- not at all how one would expect. Susanna Clarke, you still have far and away the best fictionalized Wellington appearance!) They are all terrible detectives, which makes the mystery incredibly lame- it all could have been over 200 pages in. And yet! When they need to move along the plot, they miraculously discover something that they have no business discovering or knowing or figuring out and everything's just fine. Perfect paragons when they need to be, yet again! You never feel a moment's anxiety for any of them, never a moment of drama between them (all misunderstandings are cleared up in a matter of a page), and yeah, generally- bo-ring.
I've started the third one, though, and it is already better- if irritating in its own special way....more
A perfectly charming little epistolary tale with a number of problems. This is the story of Kate and Cecelia (does this spelling of the name bother anA perfectly charming little epistolary tale with a number of problems. This is the story of Kate and Cecelia (does this spelling of the name bother anyone else? I had to type that name three times before I got it right, it seem so unnatural!) two cousins who are seperated for a few months while one experiences the London Season, and the other stays on their country estate, and write letters back and forth to each other. Kate falls into the path of an evil magician, Cecelia trips over related magical problems of her own- plotting and hijinx to follow. Appropriate males are found to counterpart them, and we're off!
The good bits: The wannabe Jane Austen voice was fairly good, there were several witty one liners that were laugh out loud worthy, there were some truly excellent capers, and I appreciated the spirit of both the young ladies. Also, it really does captivate you and for the most part sweep you away. I finished this book in a matter of a few hours. If you shut your brain off and enjoy it as a light, fluffy, delicious bon bon, its wonderful.
The problems: The authors wrote this by doing "The Letter Game"- in which the participants write letters to each other in character. You're not allowed to discuss the plot at all, it just has to unfold organically. In this particular case, the authors began to coordinate the plot towards the end so as to bring it to a satisfactory conclusion, but other than that, it is obvious that this was not planned very well as a book. The plot doesn't fit very well together, at least one of the romances is ridiculous, and there's a good deal of world building that is left out- understandable since the book is in epistolary form, between members of the same family (though its never made clear how they are related) and the authors wouldn't see the need to do a bunch of exposition. I do feel that some compromise between reader enjoyment and realism could have been made, though.
Another thing that bothered me- it seemed like the authors did all of their research out of Georgette Heyer and a basic reference guide to the times and grabbed random bits. And they were wincingly, pompously, and embarrassingly proud of dropping clunky bits of historical slang, information, and characters into the text. These two-bit, apparently rather low on the social register characters go to intimate parties at the Countess de Lieven's? and Lady Jersey makes it a point to talk to them (and of course they use her nickname, because they are such close, personal friends)? Both male characters totally know the Duke of Wellington! Its kind of like people writing out a Star Wars roleplay, and insisting that their characters are just like the ones from the movies and they're best buddies, and going around saying, "Oh, so Luke and I were hanging out the other day..." and expecting this to impress everyone. It was simplistic and unrealistic.
Oh and speaking of unrealistic- the tones that these girls wrote their letters in. They're supposed to both be adolescent females, and they both have the voices of thirty-something year old women with 20 years of world-weary experience behind them- except when they need to be adorable and naive for our male characters, or enthuse over clothes. One of them actually refers to her sister, one year younger than her, as "the poor child."
Having said all that though- I did order the next two books in the series as soon as I finished this one. So no matter how cranky the above stated problems made me... must've not bothered me that much!
I have a fondness for "Mr. Dash of Nowhere in Particular." Something about the description of the meek young duke, ruled over by his strong-willed, crI have a fondness for "Mr. Dash of Nowhere in Particular." Something about the description of the meek young duke, ruled over by his strong-willed, crotchety relations and servants spoke to me. I cheered for his coming-of-age transition to a man, and his adventures out in the world, his experiments at doing everything for himself. I do think the romance in this book seemed like something of an afterthought, put in at the end only because Heyer's readers are used to seeing a pat happy ending. I didnt' think it needed it. It could have ended just as well with our realization that he has grown up. Its a case of Heyer limiting herself to the genre....more
One of the better realized Heyers. A mature romance, Frederica follows the trials and tribulations of the slightly older (mid twenties, oh no, over thOne of the better realized Heyers. A mature romance, Frederica follows the trials and tribulations of the slightly older (mid twenties, oh no, over the hill!) long suffering title character as she tries to give her beautiful (and silly, of course) sister a London season and keep the rest of her siblings under control- with the help of her "cousin", the Marquis of Alverstoke. Let the hijinx appropriate to a tale full of young, enterprising boys, an emotional, silly sister, and a Marquis quite unaccustomed to putting himself out for anyone ensue!
This book feels more modern than some others. It is similiar in tone and presentation to Venetia, another of her mature romances in which the eventual happy lovers become very believable friends first. In fact, in Frederica, were I not already aware that I was reading a romance novel, I would have very much doubted, up until about 200 pages in, that Frederica and the Marquis were going to get together at all. It was a refreshing surprise to experience that. Much appreciated. Heyer also indulged herself in a way unusual for her- as the novel progressed, we got long trips inside the characters' heads to see their feelings developing. Heyer almost never does this- her novels are social comedies, and they are accordingly very outward. We must deduce everything we know about the characters from what they say and do alone. And I really have to say, I think I prefer her writing that way- her experiment in writing thoughts tended to make her writing a bit melodramatic, and remind me of the run of the mill romance novels I generally consider Heyer to be far and away better than.
The Marquis was irritatingly perfect, and it did feel like Heyer indulged her fantasies of perfection just a little bit much with him. He always knew just the thing to say, and he was always just so, just enough this, and not /that/, and if he had flaws, well! so understandable, even admirable! The same thing goes with the mischevious younger brothers. Well, if they get up to possibly life endangering escapades... of course one wishes they wouldn't.. but not really, how could one wish boys without spirit?! And they always seem to have such a talent for getting out of things just right, as of course everyone likes them and wants to help them!, and in a socially acceptable and excellently resourceful way! At least it would seem so to those of the company who are "right ones," and know the proper way of viewing the world! Heyer's ceaseless, tireless categorization of everything that is said and done as right or wrong, not /quite/ one one would wish, etc,... did get a little tiresome. It felt like she was more pushy with it in this one than others. Maybe its also just that I've just read too much Heyer, though!
But! That all said- I adored Frederica, and her siblings were really quite amusing, and I appreciated the different view of the London Season, where all the balls and parties were secondary, not the focus of things, and we saw another, more domestic side of life. I appreciated the adventures that all the minor characters got, and the great big slice of London that we got- Heyer showing off her historical research in a wonderful way. Well written, witty and warm, I certainly do recommend it to all Heyer fans....more
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