Book Review: Arabella by Georgette Heyer

Eponymous Challenge #1

Arabella Tallant is the eldest of four sisters in a family of eight children and modest means. As such she knows it is her duty to marry as well as she can, in order to assist her younger siblings. With her godmother’s offer of a Season in London and her family’s contrivances to get her finely arrayed on a budget her chances look good. Then her uncle’s carriage breaks down, obliging her and her chaperone to seek shelter at the home of the fabulously wealthy Mr. Beaumaris. There she overhears a comment revealing that he thinks her a gold-digger and her ‘carriage accident’ a mere ruse. Impulse gets the better of her and she pretends to be an heiress travelling to London in order to conceal her wealth and be courted for herself alone - before giving him a firm set-down. Not liking such treatment, Mr. Beaumaris decides to have word of the mythical Tallant fortune spread all over town, and to pay Arabella enough attention to make her the most popular girl of the Season.

Sure enough, Arabella is beset by suitors, and when she realises what Mr. Beaumaris’s gossipy friend Lord Fleetwood has done she’s in a quandary. She must marry; but how can she accept a proposal when to do so means revealing that she has no fortune - and the origin of the story that she does? She also finds it hard to keep up the pretence of being a fine lady; as a vicar’s well-brought-up daughter she can’t help rushing to the aid of creatures in need - even mongrel dogs and climbing boys. Mr. Beaumaris is disconcerted to discover that instead of being just a harmless bit of amusement, he actually likes her - and can’t say no when she needs a home for one of her rescued unfortunates. It takes the calamitous London career of Arabella’s incognito brother Bertram to sort things out - after making them vastly more complicated.

It’s about time I posted a review in my own challenge! (But, well, reading slump, blogging slump, whole-life slump . . . my mother is currently making better headway through my TBR box than I am.) This book I finished . . . er, a while ago, so it wasn’t part of the aforementioned slump - quite the opposite, in fact. While reading it I frequently had a broad smile on my face - especially if Ulysses was on the page. The little dog had a marked personality and simply adored his new owner, leaving many gentlemen comically confused as to whether having a dog following one everywhere was a new fashion they should all be adopting. (Except for Mr. Frederick Byng, who I’ve recently discovered was a real figure, and who took drives in the park with a perfectly coiffed and clipped poodle.) I liked Mr. Beaumaris’s willingness to poke fun at the slavish followers of fashion even though they were following him; but my favourite of the two was Arabella. She was kindhearted, able to hold her own in repartee with all the city people, and prone to getting into scrapes by not thinking about the likely outcome of her good intentions. Her agonising about how to extricate herself can’t have been much fun for her, but certainly is for the reader.

I just wish I could have seen the oh-so-fashionable Mr. Beaumaris happily pottering about the parsonage with all Arabella’s relatives; or her first meeting with his dragonish grandmother. (Somehow I think Arabella and the Dowager Duchess would have liked each other immensely.) And a glossary of Regency slang terms wouldn’t have gone amiss.

Rating: B+

Now reading: Antony and Cleopatra - William Shakespeare (RRC, EC)
                                The Three Musketeers - Alexandre Dumas (EC)

Book Review: Crazy for You by Jennifer Crusie

2008 TBR Challenge #5

Quinn Mackenzie has an unexciting life, teaching high school art classes then going home to school sports coach Bill Hilliard, who’s a lovely man even if he is fond of beige. Her chance at a change arrives in the form of a skinny stray dog that she wants to keep. For Bill, however, it’s loathing at first sight, and when he gives her an ultimatum Quinn chooses the dog. Her desire for something new proves to be catching. Her best friend Darla decides she wants more excitement in her life, but can’t convince her husband Max that things aren’t fine as they are. Max’s brother Nick’s quiet lifestyle is being disrupted by the need to get between Quinn and an increasingly divorced-from-reality Bill; not that he minds too much, as he wants to help his best friend. Actually, he wants his best friend, even if she is his ex-wife’s sister. Bill’s coaching performance has taken a nosedive, so the sports-obsessed principal isn’t happy; nor is he pleased when one of his teachers comes out of the closet - along with Quinn’s mother. Sanity has to return sooner or later - doesn’t it?

Second time around this is just as funny as the first. Ordinary people living ordinary lives can seem hugely entertaining in the right hands. The characters are just quirky enough, and Bill and the Boy Principal make a suitably unpleasant combination. Bill is all the more unnerving because he seems like such a nice guy, loved by the whole town, and the situation Quinn finds herself in is just so possible for anyone. I really wanted to see Quinn and dog get a happy ending - and for Quinn to realise that the real Mr Right had been under her nose all along - but it has to be said that she could almost be the poster girl for what not to do when faced with a stalker. I couldn’t help thinking, Sure, he was a nice guy - emphasis on was, as in past tense, but just CALL THE COPS! But it was still a great read. The chemistry between Quinn and Nick practically crackles off the page (though stylistically a few more full stops wouldn’t have hurt); and after their years of friendship it’s easy to see them settling happily down complete with neurotic dog.

Rating: B+

Now reading: Don Quixote - Miguel Cervantes (CC)
                                A Matter of Honour - Jeffrey Archer

Book Review: Dragonfly in Amber by Diana Gabaldon

Twenty-three years after she vanished through a stone circle into another time, Claire Randall is back in twenieth-century Scotland. With her is her daughter Brianna, who believes her father to be the late historian Frank Randall, and has no idea of the truth: that her mother is a time-traveller, and she herself is the daughter of an eighteenth-century Scottish outlaw. In Inverness Claire seeks out Roger Wakefield, who is happy to carry out a spot of historical detective work on her behalf - especially if it means seeing more of Brianna. But the simple task of discovering which of a group of men survived Culloden becomes more complicated when he notices a few little oddities. Meanwhile Claire prepares to tell her astonishing story, and to show them the one piece of evidence that can prove its truth beyond doubt.

Claire’s narration picks up after Cross Stitch left off: with her and Jamie Fraser in France in 1745, searching for a way to avert Culloden by stopping the rebellion before it starts. It’s a delicate and risky business, getting close to Charles Stuart by pretending to support his cause, while in reality trying to suppress it. But they’re sure they can succeed; after all, Frank Randall’s ring remains on her finger, even though one of his direct ancestors was prematurely killed, which means that they have already succeeded in changing history - or have they? Then Claire secures the enmity of the Comte St. Germain, rumoured black magician and all-round bad news; a few more branches of Frank’s family tree turn up; and the Duke of Sandringham decides to start meddling. Suddenly the question of whether the past really can be changed, or whether those trying to do so are as helpless as a dragonfly trapped in amber, becomes the least of their concerns. And after being forced back to Scotland, they discover that their only hope of saving the clansmen at Culloden may well be to become Jacobites in truth, and see that the rebellion succeeds. Only one thing is certain: that the love Jamie and Claire have for each other can survive anything - even separation by more than two hundred years.

This book is partly responsible for my still being slightly behind in my blogging: once I picked it up, it was very hard put down, and I certainly couldn’t tear myself away from it for a mere book review. Once I got into it, that is. Cross Stitch was all first-person and finished in the eighteenth century, so when I opened this and found it was third person in the twentieth century, I was a little disoriented and for a moment even wondered if I had the right book. But, no, this was book two, and I soon got used to the idea that the continuation of the eighteenth century would have to wait a while. The process was greatly helped by the mystery of Claire’s reappearance and her request, and by the presence of Roger Wakefield. The little boy who briefly appeared in book one has grown up to be just adorable, and it was fun watching him battle with his late father’s lifetime accumulation of paper and his relentlessly marriage-minded housekeeper. And once Claire resumed her tale, I was glued to the page - all nine-hundred-plus of them. (I’m sure it didn’t seem that long. I guess pages fly when you’re having fun.)

And in spite of the high stakes, the danger, and the certain knowledge that it all ends in failure and separation, there’s a lot of fun. At some points I was laughing out loud, like Jamie’s improvised use of a rock-solid sausage as a weapon - and his thriftily keeping hold of it during his subsequent flight and having it cooked up for dinner. But the greatest attraction was the characters. The cast was large, but I never got muddled; they’re all individuals and most leapt off the page (Brianna didn’t quite spring to life, but maybe in the next book). As well as the enjoyment of meeting all the newcomers, and returning to a few old favourites, there was also a wonderful chance to see the good side of a bad character. After this, I’ve come to the conclusion that the key to a truly memorable villain is not just the vileness, but the degree of normality mixed with it. Best of all, I got to spend more time with Claire and Jamie. He is just as wonderful in this book as the first - and with just as much of a tendency to infuriating stubbornness. Claire has a truly enviable knack for thinking on her feet, and I really wish I shared it (if nothing else, it would help with all those big job interviews I’ll be facing in a few months). Once again they showed their willingness to do anything for each other; and when there was nothing more that could be done and history forced them apart, I was scrambling for the Kleenex.

The eighteenth century threw up a few twists for the characters from the twentieth. One has me itching to read book three. One took me by surprise and had me rushing for my copy of Cross Stitch to see how the clues had been planted. (Answer: very subtly.) And one I saw coming a mile off, and I couldn’t think why Claire didn’t spot it also. It was a little disappointing that someone usually so observant should miss something that I thought was obvious. But it did at least clear up something I’d been puzzled by since book one. And be warned - it does get gory, and there’s a high body count by the end.

Rating: A
Odd but true: Just as Roger told Brianna, Charles Stuart really did abandon the battlefield in such a hurry as to leave his picnic set behind.
Sinister history: Jamie’s laborious writing - the result of enforced right-handedness - made me realise what I might have faced had I been born earlier. I’ve tried doing crosswords right-handed, while my left hand is busy with lunch, and it’s not easy.

Now reading: Ivanhoe - Sir Walter Scott
                                Sentimental Murder - John Brewer
                                The Silmarillion - J.R.R. Tolkien (TBRC)

Book Review: Hot Dish by Connie Brockway

Jenn Hallesby’s one shot at escaping tiny Fawn Creek, Minnesota, and returning to her old life in South Carolina collapses in ignominy. First she’s robbed of the Queen Buttercup crown - and accompanying scholarship - by a technicality she didn’t even know existed. Then the artist carving the butter busts of the finalists gets arrested in front of her. It’s definitely not what Jenn had planned.

Twenty-two years later, she’s Jenn Lind, the Martha of the Midwest, the Next Big Thing in lifestyle television. And it is, ironically, all thanks to the Scandinavian cooking she learned as her talent for the Miss Fawn Creek pageant all those years ago. Then her adoptive hometown invites her to take part in its sesquicentennial, along with famous sculptor Steve Jaax and his career-altering creation - the butter head. After more than two decades in the Hallesbys’ freezer, it’s something of a celebrity in its own right, as well as a potential Guinness World Record. And Jenn’s new network just can’t say no. So Jenn winds up back in the town where she never fitted in, staying with her formerly wealthy parents, with a cheerfully egotistical celebrity in tow. Things get even worse when three local losers kidnap the butter head as payback for the mayor’s laying a carpark over their dope crop, and hold it to ransom. The town bigwigs want it back for the parade. Steve wants it because it contains the key to the mausoleum vault holding his most famous work, which he had stolen twenty-two years earlier to protect it from his avaricious soon-to-be-ex wife. And his former cellmate wants it for the same reason. But Jenn’s biggest worry is that her ultra-conservative new boss will discover exactly what she did to try to divest herself of the Miss Fawn Creek crown . . .

This was an enjoyable screwball comedy, with likeable characters and some of the most inept crooks I’ve met outside of Janet Evanovich. Jenn was a great heroine, and proof that even in romanceland, life can begin at 40. Even though it ultimately didn’t make her happy, I still wish I had some of her drive and ambition (qualities I seem to be sadly lacking). Though I wouldn’t have gone anywhere near American Media Services. She and Steve were a perfect match: she didn’t pander to his celebrity status like the rest of his acquaintances, and pointed out a few hard facts about his career’s direction - or lack thereof. And Steve took one look at the town she had spent most of her life escaping and saw everything good about it.

As a setting, Fawn Creek was, for me, both an asset and a disadvantage. I like to read about things outside my normal life, and a tiny snow-bound village is about as far as you can get from a sprawling subtropical metropolis. But since my experience of towns of much less than 250 000 people is of the just-passing-through variety, I kept pausing to think, Is that really what life in a small town is like? Not a criticism of the author, merely a reflection on the reader.

Rating: B
How many?: A sesquicentennial turns out to be 150 years. I was going to look it up, but it made an appearance in a tv quiz show question, so I didn’t have to bother
Never in a million years: Ice fishing. Who in their right mind would spend hours sitting watching a hole in a frozen lake?

Now reading: The Decameron - Giovanni Boccaccio (BBC)
                                North and South - Elizabeth Gaskell
                                The Lady and the Unicorn - Tracy Chevalier

Book Review: Goddess of Spring by P.C. Cast

Carolina Francesca Santoro is a middle-aged businesswoman with a problem: her accountant. Thanks to his incompetence, she now owes a sizeable sum to the IRS. Desperately searching for ways to boost her bakery’s profits, she stumbles across The Italian Goddess Cookbook in the shop across the road and tries out the pizza alla Romana, even though the instructions are as much spell as recipe. Next thing Lina knows, she’s in a much younger body, in a place that is definitely not Oklahoma, being offered a deal by Demeter herself. You see, the underworld is having a bit of a morale problem, and she’s decided the place needs a goddess of its own (translation: she wants the prayers for the dead directed at somebody else). And the obvious candidate - her daughter Persephone - is out of the question until she’s done a bit of growing up. So she offers Lina a chance to save her bakery while raising the spirits of the dead (sorry!): trade places - and bodies - with the Goddess of Spring. For six months Persephone will breathe new life into Pani del Goddess, while Lina will use her life experience to whip the underworld into shape. And she needn’t worry about Hades - he’s quite boring, really.

So Lina descends into the realm of the dead, all the while reminding herself to forget that they’re dead. That task becomes a little easier when she meets Euridyce (yes, that Euridyce), a friendly little spirit who quickly becomes devoted to ‘Persephone’. And it’s not long before the new Goddess is making an impression, disconcerting Hades at their first meeting when his fire-snorting dread steeds fall head over hooves in love with her (and she later charms Cerberus - all three heads of him). He’s further puzzled by the interest that a goddess he always believed self-centered shows in his realm. For while the Underworld might not have much of a reputation, it’s far more spectacular than anything on earth, and Lina is fascinated by it all - and by Hades. Far from being boring, he’s actually desperately lonely. Having witnessed the connection of soulmates, he’s determined not to settle for anything less himself. No easy task, since immortals can never truly belong to the Underworld and mortals have an unfortunate tendency to run screaming when they discover his identity. Except, of course, for Lina. But romance comes to an abrupt halt when Demeter whisks Lina back to Tulsa, where Persephone has made over not just the bakery but her borrowed life - complete with youthful new wardrobe, toyboy . . . and the recipe for ambrosia cream cheese! Business is booming, but life just isn’t the same. Then six months later, Persephone reappears. Could the timeshare plan she proposes work? And could Lina’s soulmate really be a Batman-esque Lord of the Dead?

After a run of the dull, the frustrating, and the mediocre, this book was the ideal pick-me-up; wonderfully imaginative and dead funny (once again, I couldn’t help myself). I wish my mind could work like that: take something familiar and turn it upside down (while cheerfully throwing reality out the window). I’ve long been fascinated by ancient mythology, so it was a treat to read about so many legendary figures from such a different perspective: a schemeing Dido, a laugh-inducing explanation of just why Orpheus looked back, and Apollo’s dented ego when he discovered that a mere mortal was more interested in his horses than in him. There was also plenty that I never previously knew: the nature of Tartarus; the rivers of the Underworld; the fact that, yes, there is a difference between a daimon and a demon. I loved Lina, with her mental movie references, her determination to make the best of a very bizarre job and dedication to the people (ex-people?) under her temporary rule, and her love of animals. (Though I’m really not sure I could look at Cerberus and see just a larger version - in partial triplicate - of an ordinary pet bulldog.) I couldn’t help liking Persephone, even if she was a bit on the frivolous side. And Hades . . . I’ve never watched a Batman movie in my life, but at last I begin to understand the fascination (and boy can he decorate!). It’s hard to picture an immortal god being anything less than perfectly assured, but Cast pulls it off; he actually seems quite human.

I did have one point of contention. Lina was the perfect choice for Demeter becasue she spoke Italian. But Hades’s realm is the ancient Roman Underworld - shouldn’t everyone have spoken Latin? (Although I do appreciate that a modern heroine fluent in that language might have been a big ask.)

Rating: A-
Linguistic anomaly: If Italian is the language of the Underworld, what happens to the non-Italian-speaking dead?
Goddess power I’d love to have: DIY flowers!

Now reading: The Decameron - Giovanni Boccaccio (BBC)
                                The Time Machine - H.G. Wells
                                The Rachel Papers - Martin Amis

Book Review: Cross Stitch by Diana Gabaldon

WW2 over, Claire and Frank Randall are holidaying in the Highlands. She studies botany while he chases down every last scrap of information about his six-times-great grandfather Jonathan, soldier, likely spy, and one of the more illustrious branches of the Randall family tree. A few odd things happen - conflicting symbols in the tea leaves, a possible ghost sighting - but nothing so strange as at Beltane, when Claire steps into a stone circle and steps out into 1743. And the first person she encounters is none other than Captain Jonathan Randall, who turns out to be an officer but not much of a gentleman.

Escaping from him, she’s captured by a marauding band of Mackenzies and taken to Castle Leoch. There she meets Callum, the crippled - and very suspicious - Mackenzie laird and his ambitious brother Dougal. Finally accepting that she is, in fact, in the eighteenth century, Claire - a wartime nurse - bides her time as castle physician until she can escape from Callum’s watchers and return to the circle of standing stones - and Frank. Then an ill-fated visit to the English garrison results in Dougal being ordered to produce her for ‘questioning’ - something he has no intention of doing. Not when he can use her to secure his place in the clan succession, and pave the way for a strategically-positioned property to come under Mackenzie control. Knowing that it’s her only hope for staying out of Randall’s clutches, Claire agrees to marry his nephew Jamie Fraser.

This presents its own complications; guilt at the thought of abandoning him, the jealousy of one of the castle girls which see Claire embroiled in a witch trial, and her growing attachment to him. By the time she returns to the circle of standing stones, she can no longer bear the thought of leaving him. But her happiness is threatened when Jamie is betrayed to the Watch, and Claire must risk liberty and life to rescue him from gaol and get him far beyond the reach of Randall’s vengeance.

I’ve dithered for days over this review, certain that nothing I can write could do it justice. The only thing not to love about it is the fact that it weighs more than everything else in my handbag combined. Claire is a fantastic heroine; her background growing up on archaeological digs and battlefield nursing allow her quickly to find her feet in the eighteenth century (although her propensity for swearing raises a few eyebrows), and the latter provided good practice at ordering around recalcitrant men. Her narration is highly entertaining and holds your interest even when describing nothing more exciting than daily life at the castle. Not that there are many lulls; even when nothing much is happening externally, there’s her various internal dilemmas: how to get back to Frank, whether to go back to Frank, and what - if anything - she should do to try to avert the impending disaster of Culloden.

The amount of historical information here is such that the mind boggles at the amount of research that must have gone into it. All I’ve read about Georgian history has concerned England, so it was good to find out what things were like on the other side of the border. Another advantage to having an outsider as narrator is that the political situation can be shown without any bias one way or another; once she makes her decision to stay in the eighteenth century, her only loyalty is to whatever will best ensure her and Jamie’s survival. The two of them make a wonderful couple; he is simply adorable (though he is, as Dougal said, as stubborn as a rock) and willing to do anything for Claire, as she is for him. Those resolutions will be put very much to the test before the end of the book, which involves one of the more ingenious methods of gaolbreaking I’ve come across. And it’s great to see a left-handed redhead in a starring role (okay, that’s my bias!).

This book has one final distinction: it contains the vilest villain of any book I’ve read. Captain Jonathan Randall is a sadist with a great fondness for handsome young Scotsmen in general and an obsession with Jamie Fraser in particular. He has a soft spot for torture and a very creepy resemblance to his six-times-great grandson. And there’s a hint that his mind is twisted even beyond the obvious. I have got to get my hands on the sequel . . . once I’ve found enough free time to get through a book that big!

Hmm . . . writing this wasn’t so bad after all. Amazing what watching the clock tick toward midnight will do for a girl’s writing speed!

Rating: A+
Favourite secondary character: A very difficult choice . . . Ned Gowan, the former Edinburgh lawyer with the soul of a romantic and the ability to practically talk people into death by boredom Laughed at: Claire’s description of the solidly-built, very gay Duke of Sandringham as having ‘a voice like an overwrought mouse’

Now reading: The Canterbury Tales - Geoffrey Chaucer (WCRC)
                                 The Accidental Tourist - Anne Tyler
                                 Tess of the Durbervilles - Thomas Hardy (WCRC)
                                 Bridget Jones's Diary - Helen Fielding

Booking Through Thursday

I’ve been meaning for weeks to check this site out on a Thursday, and I finally remembered. Today the theme is (of course) romance. Specifically:

Q.
1. Love stories? Yes or No? and
2. If yes, "romances" as a genre? Or just, well, stories that have love stories? (Nobody's going to call "Pride & Prejudice" a "romance," right?)

A.
1. Yes - so long as they’re not that mushily sentimental . . . stuff. Nothing on earth is ever going to make me read The Bridges of Madison County, for instance.
2. Both! I know that romance as genre gets rubbished by the - well, by certain people; I used to be one of them. Then curiosity overcame snobbery and I discovered they’re the perfect antidote to my perpetual suspicion that I’m carrying enough cynicism for someone three times my age. Reading something guaranteed to have an ending not just happy but idealised, allows me to slip the rose-coloured glasses back on for a few hours and pretend I still believe in all that fairytale nonsense.

I do have standards (the snob reasserting herself!); there has to be a good story and I do prefer to have some mystery or history thrown in (or at the very least, something to make me laugh).

And as for Pride and Prejudice . . . some might not classify Jane Austen as romance, but there’s at least one librarian who’d disagree. The first time I read Austen’s Emma was when I checked it out from the Belconnen Library in Canberra - complete with a red heart sticker on the spine.

Now reading: The Canterbury Tales - Geoffrey Chaucer (WCRC)
                                 The Accidental Tourist - Anne Tyler
                                 Cross Stitch - Diana Gabaldon
                                 In Other Words - C.J. Moore

Book Review: Daisy’s Back in Town by Rachel Gibson

Daisy Monroe has returned to her small Texas hometown after being widowed. Her purpose is to track down high school boyfriend Jackson Parrish, give him the letter written by her late husband (Jack’s former best friend) - and inform him that her teenage son back in Seattle is, in fact, his. It quickly becomes obvious that this is not going to be easy; in Jack’s opinion, the sooner Daisy gets out of town, the better. He won’t speak to her, she leaves, she tracks him down again, he refuses to speak to her, she leaves . . . et cetera ad tedium. Then all that high school lust reappears to complicate things and her son arrives from Seattle and drops by Jack’s garage to take a look at his biological father (Daisy and Steven told him the truth). Wouldn’t you know it, under the spiky haircut and dog chains he’s a ringer for Jack’s old man. The secret is out in the worst way possible and there’s a lot of mess for Daisy and Jack to work through before they can reach their happy ending, if anyone cares by that time.

I didn’t.

By the time it was revealed that Jack hated Daisy because she had ditched him and married his best friend the same week he buried both his parents, I’d already written him off as a pain in the arse. And any sympathy I felt for him vanished when he began scheming to secure custody of Nathan, even going behind Daisy’s back to make the kid an offer he couldn’t refuse (a holiday job at the garage restoring classic cars) and telling her if she didn’t want to stay in town, she could leave. I didn’t think much of Daisy either. Once she realised Jack wouldn’t talk to her, why keep tiptoeing around with the we-need-to-talk line? (Guaranteed to send any man running for cover.) Just tell him straight out, drop the letter in the post, and go home. (And if you are going to go to such lengths as crashing his niece’s birthday party, at least have the sense to take the letter with you.) Becuase of all these delays, it was close to the end of the book before I found out that after his parents’ deaths Jack pushed Daisy away, she got upset and turned to Steven (as was her habit whenever Jack slighted her) and Steven took advantage of her doubts to snare her for himself. It was too late for me to begin caring then.

The final thing that irritated me was the ending. When Jack proposed to Daisy (it was true love, apparently) he told Nathan they’d be living in Lovett - without consulting Daisy. And despite it being barely a year since the death of the man who had raised him as his own, Nathan appeared to have no problem with his mother remarrying and uprooting him halfway across the country. Even my sizeable ability to suspend disbelief didn’t stretch that far.

Rating: D+
Most irritating character: Daisy’s mother, with her endless series of rambling, pointless stories
Ended up lost: whenever the specifics of the classic cars were mentioned.


Now reading: The Canterbury Tales - Geoffrey Chaucer (WCRC)
                                 The Fourth Protocol - Frederick Forsyth
                                 The Accidental Tourist - Anne Tyler
                                 Total Control - David Baldacci

Book Review: Sylvester by Georgette Heyer

Sylvester Rayne, Duke of Salford, has decided to marry before his nephew and ward Edmund gets old enough to feel put out by the loss of his position as heir presumptive. To the despair of his romantic mother he approaches the exercise in coldly business-like fashion, but he does unbend enough to allow his godmother to add her granddaughter to his shortlist. Unfortunately on visiting her family estate he doscovers that Phoebe Marlow is not duchess material: a shrinking violet when in the presence of her autocratic stepmother, and a regular tomboy when not. And Phoebe, after meeting Sylvester the previous Season, quickly pegged him as aloof and proud to the point of arrogance; so much so that when she wrote her first novel (a Gothic), she cast him as the villainous Count Ugolino.

Desperate to avoid being railroaded into marriage, Phoebe runs away to her grandmother in London, delivering quite a blow to the duke’s ego in the process. And things only get worse when the novel is published and becomes a sensation. Thanks to Sylvester’s - and Ugolino’s - distinctive and devilish-looking eyebrows, the unflattering portrait is instantly recognisable, and the original is furious. Then there’s his spoilt sister-in-law Ianthe, who wants custody of her son regardless of the terms of her late husband’s will, or the fact that her fiancé is a ridiculous fop whom Edmund loathes. She found Phoebe’s novel quite inspiring - especially the part where the heroine kidnaps Ugolino’s ill-used nephew to safety. And Phoebe’s talent for getting into trouble is such that she finds herself right in the middle of it, much to Sylvester’s horror.

Of course you know from the start that there’ll be a happy ending, but most of the fun is in getting there and Georgette Heyer can always be counted on to make the journey enjoyable. She has a wonderful way of bringing out the eccentric and absurd in her characters, particularly the ones who deserve it. In this book that’s Sir Nugent Fotherby, Ianthe’s foppish fiancé, who in one scene brags to Phoebe about his perspicacity in selecting his recently-purchased horse, a horse she knows was sold to him by her father for way too much money. There were a lot of moments where the poor girl had a hard time restraining her giggles (and the same can be said for this girl).

This book gave me something to think about, because I have faint hopes of one day writing the Great Australian Mystery Novel, and can think of a few former acquaintances who would make wonderful villains. But since none of them are happily-ever-after material like Sylvester, I’ll hve to make sure they’re sufficiently disgused. But not too much. That would take the fun out of it.

Rating: B
Best comeuppance: Sir Nugent losing the ostentatious tassels on his custom-designed Hessian boots
Wish I could: Write a novel that woul be as much of a success as Phoebe’s

Now reading: The Canterbury Tales - Geoffrey Chaucer (WCRC)
                                 The Fourth Protocol - Frederick Forsyth                                  The Best Man to Die - Ruth Rendell