Black Sheep

Black Sheep by Georgette Heyer
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Abigail Wendover is determined to save her niece from a fortune-hunter; but the wise young aunt finds herself falling for another black sheep, the cynical and charming Miles Calverleigh.

It's Heyer having fun with romance, showing Abby's slow seduction through friendship. Miles, who is hardly the perfect man, pushes her buttons and makes her laugh at the same time. Abby considers herself 'on the shelf' (what a devastating term for an old maid!), but it's plain that a few of the men around her don't see it the same way; yet Miles is the only one capable of attracting her attention.

The aunt is mostly worried over her niece's ill-advised engagement to Stacy Calverleigh, a man Abby recognizes as a cold-hearted fortune-hunter. My only quibble - the characters are all horribly condescending toward young Fanny; while clearly inexperienced (only 17!), she is hardly the halfwit they all seem to take her for. Still, it's a fun story with a happy ending that will make you smile - what more can you ask for?

Georgette Heyer is known for doing her homework on Regency England, and she turns up some great old-fashioned expressions in this novel. They are clear by context, but I just had to look some up to try and figure out their precise meaning (there is this awesome website, too):

havey-cavey - suspicious

throw her cap over the windmill - to act recklessly (as in Don Quixote)

return by Weeping Cross - to return as a penitent, as to a roadside shrine

to shoot the crow - Scottish expression: to leave hurriedly, esp. without paying one's bill

a trifle above oar - a little drunk

shabrag - scruffy, shabby, dilapidated

If you love Georgette Heyer's Jane Austen-like charm and wit, you're in luck: the woman wrote way more books than Austen did! Definitely check them out.

Quotable:

"He had nothing to recommend him but his smile, and she was surely too old, and had too much commonsense, to be beguiled by a smile, however attractive it might be. But just as she reached this decision he spoke, and she glanced up at him, and realized that she had overestimated both her age and her commonsense." - 66

"Half a loaf is better than no bread: he didn't know who had been responsible for that silly proverb, only that he must have a cod's head. It wasn't better; when the lovely, darling girl you would have given your soul to possess invited you to be her brother it was infinitely worse." - 132

Charles Dickens: A Life

Charles Dickens: A Life by Claire Tomalin
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Insightful and authoritative, this biography traces Charles Dickens from his harsh childhood to the heights of literary success and the depths of marital scandal, painting the portrait of an extraordinary man and artist.

Charles Dickens is one of those precious few writers who people both read for pleasure and as Great Literature. He had a long and eventful life, crammed with friends, family, and many endeavors. He was not only a prolific author: he tried his hand at organizing and acting in plays, public readings of condensed versions of his novels, incredible works of charity, and being a one-man institution to support a growing crowd of shiftless relatives, plus unfortunate widows and orphans.

The first two parts of the book describes Dickens's difficult childhood and rise to success. He was a talented writer who captured the spirit of his own age, and was well-loved for it. The final third of the book recounts Dickens's ugly public separation from his wife (who seems to have been a good woman, but too quiet and dull for her charismatic husband - though they did manage to have ten children in twenty years of marriage). Dickens embarked on a twelve-year secret affair with Nelly Ternan, an actress younger than his own daughters. Tomalin faces this head-on, cutting Dickens little slack: "You can feel sorry for him as he struggles, but it is impossible to like what he did, or on occasion to believe what he said" (301). She describes his personal failures with feeling:

"...the darkest part of his character was summoned up. He was ready to be cruel to his defenceless wife. A raging anger broke out at any opposition to his wishes. He used lies as weapons of attack and defence. His displays of self-righteousness were shocking. He was determined to be in the right about everything. He must have known he was not, but he had lost his judgement. The spectacle of a man famous for his goodness and his attachment to domestic virtues suddenly losing his moral compass is dismaying." - 293

Tomalin wrote a book about Nelly Ternan called The Invisible Woman, drawing on the scanty historical facts to put together a picture of a life deliberately erased. She brings an incredible depth of scholarship to bear on both lives.

I love Tomalin's clear critical eye on his literary output, where she not only reports on the historical reception of each work, but gracefully articulates her own insights. She asserts that "In his writing too there were conflicts, a touch of ham certainly, but alongside it the dazzling jokes, the Shakespearean characterization, the delicacy and profundity of imagination, the weirdness and brilliance of his descriptive powers" (389).

Overall, Tomalin manages the impossible balancing act of staying objective about her subject without being detached. She clearly admires Dickens's energy, talent, and generosity, while remaining honest about his human failings. Her writing is always engaging, and she has the gift for finding the telling details out of the unruly, busy life of one of England's best writers.

All his life, Dickens was unflagging in his advocacy for the poor, the imprisoned, and the destitute. The story of one of his most remarkable endeavors, a Home to help women escape prostitution, is told in Charles Dickens and the House of Fallen Women by Jenny Hartley. He strongly identified with the protagonist of David Copperfield, and it was his own favorite book. I highly recommend Tomalin's Jane Austen: A Life, a book I loved (or one of her other impressive literary biographies).

Quotable:
"Even his most hostile critics acknowledged that he described London 'like a special correspondent for posterity'. Early in his writing career he started to call himself 'the inimitable': it was partly a joke with him, but not entirely, because he could see that there was no other writer at work who could surpass him, and that no one among his friends or family could even begin to match his energy and ambition. He could make people laugh and cry, and arouse anger, and he meant to amuse and to make the world a better place." - p. xlvii

On A Christmas Carol:
"The book went straight to the heart of the public and has remained lodged there ever since, with its mixture of horror, despair, hope and warmth, its message - a Christian message - that even the worst of the sinners may repent and become a good man; and its insistence that good cheer, food and drink shared, gifts and even dancing are not merely frivolous pleasures but basic expressions of love and mutual support among all human beings." - 150

Tooth and Claw

Tooth and Claw by Jo Walton
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

In this inventive fantasy that re-imagines the Victorian era, members of a genteel family struggle to make their way in the world after the death of their father - and they happen to be dragons.

A short pitch for this book could be Jane Austen with dragons. If that isn't a great hook, I don't know what is! The cast of characters is a respectable dragon family whose patriarch has died, scattering his heirs into the uniquely dangerous world to make their fortunes. Each character seems to have an analog in the Austen universe: for example, the clergyman Blessed Frelt is both Mr. Collins and Mr. Elliot.

It's fascinating to see how Walton translates Victorian ideas about human nature into dragon society: female dragons are much smaller than males, and lack claws or fire (dragons vary wildly in size, ranging from servants who remain seven feet in adulthood to the giant nobles who achieve seventy feet or more). Females change color when they bond with a mate, and a female alone in the world is in real danger of being "pressed" (something much like rape) or simply killed and eaten. Yes, eaten. That brings us to a central point in this world: dragons eat their dead, for some very good reasons. It's an idea Walton uses to full potential, and as strange as it is to think of Dragon Mr. Darcy eating his dear dead dad, it works. Dragon society is genteel on the surface, but beneath every interaction lurks the reality that these are large carnivores, ready to fight tooth and claw to improve their social standing.

The characters are interesting, but some of the love stories between dragon couples lacked zest. I think it's because Walton doesn't have the knack for dialog that you see in the classic British authors - Dickens and Austen in particular. (It's unfair to make the comparison, but impossible not to.) Still, the concept and execution are so charming I'm happy to overlook this quibble. In fact, I want Jo Walton to write generations of dragon stories, progressing through every era of human civilization. Dragon Greatest Generation! Dragon hippies! Dragon yuppies! (A dragon Gordon Gecko would be fantastic: Greed...is good.) There are so many interesting directions this universe could take, and the way Walton uses her premise to reexamine human society is exactly what good fantasy should do.

The obvious ideal readers of this book are Jane Austen/fantasy lovers, so brush up on your Emma, Pride and Prejudice, and Sense and Sensibility before (or after) Tooth and Claw. I would also suggest another alternate-history fantasy series, one I love: His Majesty's Dragon by Naomi Novik (the first in the Temeraire books). Think Patrick O'Brian's Master and Commander - with dragons, naturally. I'm pretty sure everything's better with dragons.

Moll Flanders

Moll Flanders by Daniel Defoe
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

Moll Flanders tells the story of her checkered past as prostitute, con artist, serial bigamist, and professional fibber.

This is one of the big books that you hear about as an English major; Daniel Defoe's book that isn't Robinson Crusoe. Its heroine is a street-wise orphan with nothing but looks and an ambition to live as comfortably as possible. With nothing to sell but herself, she is unlucky in marriage five times, moves from England to Virginia and back again (twice), and then strikes out on her own in the mean streets of 1670s London. She becomes a pickpocket and scammer, and earns the working name "Moll Flanders" (she never divulges her real one).

She's usually one desperate step away from ruin, which in her case means poverty, disgrace, prison, or death. Moll faces her various circumstances with sharp intelligence and one sacred rule: look out for number one. She has multiple children from different fathers but they barely register (in fact, I suspect Defoe may have forgotten about a few of them as he wrote, or else he's purposefully made Moll herself a very forgetful mother). Here's my Moll Baby Watch:

Lover one: No children

Husband one: Two, left with his parents to raise

Husband two: One child, dies

Husband three: Two living, one dead

Lover two: One son living, two dead
Husband four: One son
Husband five: two kids (later, she says only one son, so either she forgot or the other died, and by this time she's 48 and past child-bearing)
The baronet: no children

And apparently I missed a few lovers in my count, because at one point mid-book Moll claims she's slept with 13 men, when I only count 7 or 8 - in Defoe's introduction he claims to have excised a few salacious details, which may account for the different numbers (though she never bothers to reckon up the number of children she's carried and unceremoniously dumped with relatives or strangers).

Moll makes all of the outward appearances of repenting her life of crime, but she manages to profit well by it and seems happy to do so. The best parts are where we get to watch her use her charm and intelligence to manipulate various men. There is a scene that struck me as being very similar to the opening of Sense and Sensibility (the exchange where Mrs. Dashwood argues her pliable husband to give his mother and sisters nothing of his own inheritance): Moll tricks a man into marriage after spreading a false rumor that she is wealthy. After he's secured, she acclimates him to her limited resources by slowly portioning out her savings like a magician pulling a rabbit from a hat.

Moll is a fantastic character, conscienceless but still charming. She enjoys sex early in life, but after an early betrayal, Moll uses sex as a means to her ends. She lies easily and often to everyone, even the people she claims to love. She's an ingenious crook: the most entertaining portion of her adventures comes when she talks about her con games; stealing from children, picking pockets, shoplifting, and even stealing valuables from a neighbor's burning house. She protests her regret over her crimes but tells the story with such evident satisfaction that it's clear she regrets nothing but being caught. When she ends up with a comfortable amount of money in the end she shows no sign of wanting to find her missing children. She even has an (accidental) incestuous relationship with a half-brother. No wonder this book has such a scandalous reputation!

It's a witty look into the difficulties of a poor woman's life in the 17th century, and it's amazing that Defoe's treatment of Moll is so even-handed. (Moll claims she is 69 in 1683, and the novel was published in 1722, to give you a sense of historical perspective.) No one's an angel in this book, particularly not Moll, but no one's a devil, either. The novel is a picaresque, so the events are episodic and it may seem meandering to a modern reader. It's packed with realistic detail (and was originally published anonymously as a fake memoir), and I found Moll's brief account of moving around the American colonies fascinating, though other readers may find the abundant details onerous.

In short, worth checking out if you're an English major or if you love worldly picaros who happen to be fallen women.

Jane Austen

Jane Austen: A Life by Claire Tomalin
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

The facts we have about Jane Austen's life are sparse (thanks to a few letter-destroying relatives), and much of her life is an absence, drowned out by the bustle of a large and semi-prosperous family. She was self-effacing, and little of her personal thoughts are known beyond the great works of literature she left us and a few letters.

Tomalin's book is well-researched and gracefully written; I am rarely able to finish a biography, but I enjoyed every page. She weaves together the many lives around Austen skillfully, with an eye toward capturing the telling details. I could have used a few helpful reminders in the text to keep the women straight - there are plenty of Marys, Janes, Elizas, Fannys, and Annas/Annes to mix up.

I even teared up at the description of Austen's death, and the grief of her beloved sister, Cassandra. I'll consider forgiving her for the letter-burning, but that ninny Fanny is beyond saving for me.

You will be inspired to reread every one of Austen's novels (don't worry, there are only six completed ones), so be warned!


View all my reviews

Tom Lefroy

Jane Austen's only love:

Pretty handsome guy (the white is undoubtedly powder, fashionable at the time). His brief non-courtship of Jane Austen is the subject of Becoming Jane, starring Anne Hathaway and James McAvoy. The real Lefroy married an heiress, had oodles of kids, sat in Parliament, and was appointed Lord Chief Justice of Ireland, his native country. He had a good life, it seems.

I'm reading Claire Tomalin's wonderful biography of Jane Austen, and this is what she has to say about Jane's brief and joyful flirtation with Lefroy:

"We can't help knowing that her personal story will not go in the direction she is imagining in the letter; that, as it turned out, it was not Tom Lefroy, or anyone like him, who became her adventure, but the manuscript [Elinor and Marianne*] upstairs. Not marriage but art: and in her art she made this short period in a young woman's life carry such wit and human understanding as few writers have managed to cram into solemn volumes three times the size."

It makes you wonder if the great female writers who are known to have remained single all their lives (I'm thinking of Emily Dickinson here, too) would have managed to produce their art if they had the added demands of marriage and motherhood. Would they have been happier? Maybe, maybe not. Would we? We would be unfortunate in the sense that we would never know what we missed. Imagine all the great works lost -  works that might have been created by men and women who were too burdened by other concerns.

Okay, stop thinking about it. It's too sad.

*Elinor and Marianne was later renamed Sense and Sensibility.

Georgette Heyer

The Grand Sophy by Georgette Heyer

My rating: 5 of 5 stars


I have these four things to say about my new favorite author, Georgette Heyer:

1. If you love Jane Austen, say yes to Heyer. The Grand Sophy is a good place to start.
2. Heyer is not an Austen clone. Heyer's books are witty, light-hearted, and romantic, but they reflect a more modern sensibility and writing style. (Also, there are detailed descriptions of great clothes that somehow got left out of Austen.)
3. Thank you, wonderful heroines! Heyer's heroines are charming, intelligent, and strong-willed. They are not humbled, tamed, or required to be anything other than themselves to find their perfect match, either. Thank goodness!
4. There are SO MANY Heyer novels! She was a prolific writer, so once you're addicted, you can enjoy them for many years to come.

View all my reviews