strange and random happenstance

Jane and the Unpleasantness at Scargrave Manor by Stephanie Barron
Published by: Bantam
Publication Date: 1996
Format: Paperback, 304 Pages
Rating: ★★★★
To Buy

A cache of documents has been found. Could it be true that Jane Austen, that famous Regency writer, solved crimes when she wasn't writing her novels and sent the tales off to her nieces? Because that is what appears to be the case as Jane writes about what happened when she went to Scargrave Manor. Jane had just broken off her hastily made and even more hastily ended engagement to Harris Bigg-Wither. She had been lured in by the idea of a home and a family, but in the end realized that her and Harris Bigg-Wither would not suit. Needing to be elsewhere and not wanting the recriminations of her family Jane decides to visit her dear friend Isobel Payne. Jane and Isobel had became acquainted when the younger lady came to England from Barbados looking for a husband with her aunt and cousin in tow. She found a match in the older Earl of Scargrave. In fact they have just returned home from their honeymoon on the continent and are to have a lavish ball to celebrate their nuptials at their country seat. Jane arrives the night of the festivities, her friend seems happy, her new husband full of joy, but Isobel's husband takes a turn as the evening wears on. All assume it's just an attack of indigestion. He has seen a London doctor for a few years for his complaint. That doctor is summoned to the Earl's bedside and arrives in time to watch him die. How can Isobel be a widow in the early hours after her bridal ball? If all this wasn't bad enough, Isobel receives a poison pen letter saying that she did kill her husband because she is the lover of the new Earl, formerly the Viscount Payne! How could anyone say she was unfaithful to her husband with his heir? Yes, she secretly admits to Jane that they were in love, but she never acted on her feelings. But things look dire for the two. Yes, Jane could point the finger at George Hearst, the Earl's nephew who argued with him the night of his death, or Thomas Hearst, George's brother who was in a spot of bother. And what about Lord Harold Trowbridge? Arriving to torment Isobel because he wants her property in Barbados. There are too many suspects but only two with motive and means according to the law. So it is up to Jane to save her dear friend and find the real killer.

I find Death Comes to Pemberley by P.D. James very problematic. James obviously wanted to write a book on the oddities of Georgian and Regency law and quickly realized no one would want to read it so added a thin veneer of Jane Austen in order to trick us Janeites into reading her abysmal law treatise. If only she had done her research and realized her concept had been accomplished fifteen years prior far more successfully on every front, from understanding the trial process to actually making it about Jane Austen, by Stephanie Barron. Because a book about Jane Austen or her characters should be about her first and foremost and Stephanie got that. What amazes me is that Stephanie's long running series dropped at just the right time. America's obsession with Austen is dated firmly to 1996; Emma Thompson's Sense and Sensibility won all the awards, there were two versions of Emma, one on the small screen and one on the large, and who can forget Colin Firth and his wet shirt? Into this mix Stephanie Barron published her first Jane Austen mystery. So yes, I feel a little late to the party picking up the first book now, but at least this means I have a large back catalog to enjoy! Though it did take me awhile to warm to this murder mystery conceit. The bare bones are exactly the kind of book I dream of, a murder at a county estate during Christmas where everyone in the family is a suspect. But it took awhile to click because of two reasons; the footnotes and Austen's voice. So, this book has footnotes as part of the conceit that these events really happened to Jane and they are uncovered letters and journals. Therefore the footnotes are for clarity because in 1996 not many people were as Austen obsessed or Austen literate as now. So I found them intrusive and unnecessary, until I started to learn some interesting facts, so accepted them. As for Austen's voice, Barron perfectly captures it, it's just that where my brain was at when I started the book I wasn't sharp enough to enjoy it and therefore found it a hurdle that I had to overcome. But once the second murder happened it's like everything clicked into place. And I realized that it was the victim of the second crime that really did it for me because as I get older I have come to realize how much enjoyment I get out of the murder of uppity lady's maids. The Gilded Age really brought this home to me this year. In other words, kill the right person and I'm a happy camper.

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: Christmas, Colin Firth, Death Comes to Pemberley, Emma, Jane and the Unpleasantness at Scargrave Manor, Jane Austen, Lady's Maid, Murder, P.D. James, Regency Romp, Sense and Sensibility, Stephanie Barron

If one were to walk in the footsteps of Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice I think we can all agree that when one thinks of Pride and Prejudice there is only one destination possible, and that's Pemberley. This is especially beguiling to American readers where we seriously don't have grand manor houses or even castles strewn about the countryside protected by a National Trust. But as Lizzy and her Aunt and Uncle Gardiner clearly show, these great houses were just as beguiling to Brits over two hundred years ago. Because who doesn't like to wander around big beautiful houses seeing famous works of art in a setting that isn't strictly speaking a museum? But the question becomes, where is Pemberley? You could go to Lyme Park, which was the house used in the BBC miniseries, but to me, more known for being used in a season three episode of Red Dwarf, and yes, I know I have weird priorities. Or you could have even bought Wentworth Park fairly recently, where they were claiming that the house's notoriety came from the fact it was the basis for Pemberley. A "fact" that no one has really ever agreed on. But to me I think Pemberley as Austen saw it is most likely Chatsworth. 

It's not just that Austen knew of the house and compares Pemberley to Chatsworth that makes Chatsworth a good contender, as well as both real and fictional houses being in Derbyshire, it's also actually been used as Pemberley in the P.D. James continuation Death Comes to Pemberley as well as in the 2005 adaptation of Pride and Prejudice starring Matthew Macfadyen. In fact they have the Matthew Macfadyen marble bust still there, though they request that you don't buss the bust. They have a Regency Ball there every summer which I long to be invited to! But even if that doesn't get you excited there is a deal breaker in my mind that makes this great house a must stop, and that's the connection to the Mitfords. Deborah Mitford, one of the famous Mitford sisters, was the Duchess of Devonshire and the family seat is Chatsworth. She not only spent her life surrounded by the literary, but she helped save the house after the tragic death of the heir and went on to make it a thriving business that allowed her to extensively expand the house's art collection with modern masters. So go for your Darcy dream, stay, and you can literally stay on the property, for the Mitford milieu.

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: Bicentenary Ball, Chatsworth, Death Comes to Pemberley, Deborah Mitford, Derbyshire, Duchess of Devonshire, Jane Austen, Lyme Park, Matthew MacFadyen, Mitfords, Pemberley, Pride and Prejudice, Red Dwarf

Arthur and George by Julian Barnes
Published by: Alfred A. Knopf
Publication Date: July 7th, 2005
Format: Hardcover, 385 Pages
Rating: ★★
To Buy (different edition than one reviewed)

Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, the creator of Sherlock Holmes and the second greatest writer of his age after Rudyard Kipling, and George Edalji, a half-caste solicitor from Birmingham whose Parsi father became a vicar in a small Staffordshire village, would unexpectedly change English law and bring about the court of appeal in England. As Arthur rose to fame, taking his family out of the gentle poverty of Edinburgh, getting married, having children, establishing his career, George had far smaller ambitions. He wanted to be a solicitor. He kept his head down and studied, being a decent, not excellent, student. Yet his life was full of strife. His family received hateful and horrible anonymous letters. The local police did nothing, and in fact suspected George of persecuting his own family. Yet George kept his life on track, going to college and then working for a firm in Birmingham, finally setting up his practice and even publishing a guide on railway law. The persecution eventually stopped and life seemed ready to go on as normal. Until the animal rippings started. Animals were attacked so viciously that they had to be euthanized due to their wounds. The local police decided that George was behind these crimes. They had no evidence, no logic, and yet George ended up spending three years of his life in prison. All he wanted was to be pardoned and for his simple life to begin again. Yet it wouldn't. Therefore George took the only drastic measure he ever did in his whole life, he wrote to the creator of Sherlock Holmes asking for his help. Arthur had just suffered the loss of his wife while also feeling guilty that during the past ten years he had loved another and was just waiting for propriety's sake till the day he could make Jean his bride. He was at the end of his rope with waiting and here came George with something to distract him. Arthur was willing to play the detective for the first time in his life, and hopefully George would get his name cleared when they were done.

Arthur and George is one of those books that have been sitting on my shelf for ages. Every time I reorganize my books I pick it up and think that now will be the time I read it, and it inevitably gets hidden in the back behind Barrie and Baum until the next reorganization. It might have taken me a decade, but I finally got around to Arthur and George, a book that I think is better in the abstract. There's lyrical and evocative prose, there's eventually a plot you connect to, but in the end I was more than a little dissatisfied. The book starts with little vignettes of Arthur Conan Doyle and George Edalji growing up. Quickly cutting back and forth between the two in a way that at first is interesting but almost a hundred pages in gets on your nerves for it's gimmickry. You're reading and reading and the one thought that keeps going through your head is "when is it going to start?" Because these little glimpses, no matter how many are piled on top of each other, do not a narrative make. When we finally move into the second part of the book you have had your fill of exposition and when you realize that Arthur and George have yet to meet you start to wonder why bother? There was even a part of me thinking Julian Barnes was using Conan Doyle as a lure and it's going to be a bait and switch all over again like P.D. James and Death Comes to Pemberley. I sincerely thought about just setting aside this book because I couldn't take another story supposedly about one thing and then being forced to endure something else. Luckily the historical record proves that these two men met, so I was willing to hold onto that and push through. And meet they did, and that part was good, that part was something, that part was an all too brief 122 pages that could still have used some editing. So in here, there is a story. It's short, there's too much fluff, but that little bit might just be worth it. Maybe.

Besides this constant tease of a plot hopefully emerging the writing has another serious flaw. It might be beautiful, but it is also flat. It's like the book is on a slow and even keel on every single page. There is nothing pushing the narrative forward and nothing to elicit interest, it just is. One reason I fear is this lack of focus. Barnes is so busy showing us just little glimpses of these two men's lives that he loses the ability to know what is and isn't important. There is no drama, no crescendo. George being set to prison is about as dramatic as his daily commute to work. Barnes dwells on weird and unnecessary details instead of those points which could build the story. For example, you'd think he'd spend time on the ripping of the animals, it is after all the major crime in the book. He might talk about the fear this infuses in the community, the importance of livestock in these people's lives, or the docility of pit ponies in particular, but he doesn't. Instead we get a far more detailed description of Arthur Conan Doyle getting an erection and having premature ejaculation issues the first time he kisses the woman who is to become his second wife. So in the context of this book the heinous crime of animal ripping is second to Arthur Conan Doyle's dick. So why did you write this book Julian Barnes? Because to me it seems that a miscarriage of justice wasn't as important as dragging down the legacy of a writer second only to Kipling in his time.

This flatness carries over into the characterization of these two men making me have problems with both. Firstly there's the problem with George. George Edalji is supposed to be the victim here. The man who lost years of his life for a miscarriage of justice. We should like him. We should feel his plight. We shouldn't be hoping that they just keep him locked up because he is an annoying pretentious ass. So the problem with George is that you don't like him. You're hoping that there's some twist, that he has a split personality, that he has some animus to him that doesn't make the highlight of his life writing a book on railway law! That he's freakin' Jekyll and Hyding us all and IS a cold blooded animal killers. But no. He is a shell of a person. And not in the, he endured great tragedy and there was only a shell left. No, he isn't a full person. He does his work, he gets decent grades, he blindly goes through life as a nobody. If it wasn't for someone taking against him he would have been born and died and no one would have noticed. I can't decide if making George this nonentity was a way in which Barnes is showcasing that the crime George was charged with needed to be judged on the evidence not on the man. But we still need to have some connection to this man. We have to care about his fate, not focusing on the criminal procedures of the day, and yes I'm experiencing some P.D. James flashbacks right now. But the worst characteristic, the ONLY characteristic of George is his naivety. He doesn't think that he will be convicted because he's innocent, he doesn't think he was persecuted because he's half-caste, because people aren't like that. Where did this blind optimism come from? Gaw, you're an idiot George, and for that you paid the price.

Yet the ignoramus that is George is nothing to how Barnes portrayed Conan Doyle. So now we're onto the Arthur problem if you're keeping score. If you know a bit about Conan Doyle a lot of his life story here will be repetitive. In order to break out of this Barnes makes the odd decision that he will tear down this legend. He will make Arthur human and fallible and the butt of jokes, re the premature ejaculation mentioned above. Arthur is obsessed with his image and Jean, the woman who will become his second wife. He comes across as three things, girl crazy, sports crazy, and honor crazy. Here's the thing though, Barnes stresses the crazy. He spends hundreds and hundreds of pages stressing the crazy, which, OK, if you have some weird vendetta against Conan Doyle, I can see doing that. But then in the final section of the book he then does a 180 and builds Conan Doyle back up. That he was a great writer, humanitarian, etc. etc. I just don't know what the point of the book was I guess. If it was insight into these two men, it's a fail. If it's insight into miscarriages of justice, well, it's a fail also. Why, ugh, I just don't get it. My mind is literally rebelling wanting to know the why of it. This could have been a cute and insightful book on the author of Sherlock Holmes taking up the mantle of detective and saving a man's reputation. Instead it's an overwritten mess about the author of Sherlock Holmes misguidedly playing detective to distract himself from the fact that he can't yet marry and fuck the woman he's lusted after for a decade. Crime solving as prophylactic! I really don't think Holmes would approve.

There is so much that could be forgiven though if Barnes had been willing to tie up loose ends. In particular, the hate mail and the ripping. But instead we get 40 pages of George's shallow reflections on the death of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. In his brief afterward, Barnes states that there's a man never mentioned in this book who later claimed responsibility for the letters, no reason given, no analysis, nothing. Just a man years later who did this. Um, a little more please? Secondly, as for the ripping... we are given a very good idea of what could have happened with the Sharp boys, but no real answer. As George himself points out it's the same kind of circumstantial evidence that got him locked up. So yes, in life we have unresolved endings. Nothing is tied up nice and neat with a bow. But here's the thing about Arthur and George... it's FICTION! Barnes felt perfectly fine taking liberties with Arthur's dick, yet couldn't give us an ending worthy of Holmes? Instead we are left with this nebulous morass we have read that has left no real impression other then ew to the ejaculation. Was this some arty post-modern experiment to mimic the spiritualist belief of knowledge only after passing through the veil? Seriously, I could sit here all day making up reasons why this book is as it is. I could justify it, I could throw harsh vitriol on it, I could read so much into the text that it would make your head spin, because the book's narrative just lies there doing nothing that you could read whatever you want into it. But you know what? I've wasted enough time on this book and it wasn't worth it, so in the end, writing one more word...

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: Animals, Arthur and George, Arthur Conan Doyle, Crime, Death Comes to Pemberley, Fiction, George Edalji, Jekyll and Hyde, Julian Barnes, P.D. James, Persecution, Rudyard Kipling, Sherlock Holmes, Sherlocked

The casting of Sally was one of the universe aligning in perfect harmony. I was re-reading The Mischief of the Mistletoe over Christmas two years ago and I was musing on Sally, because she does tend to steal the spotlight whenever she can. Simultaneously, the much waited for adaptation of Death Comes to Pemberley was airing on consecutive nights and there was Sally, going by the name Georgiana Darcy for some reason... well, whomever she was pretending to be, I knew it was Sally.

Name: Eleanor Tomlinson

"Dream" Character Casting for the Lauren Willig Miniseries: Sally Fitzhugh

First Impression: I first saw Eleanor in Angus, Thongs and Perfect Snogging, a lackluster adaptation of a fun book series by Louise Rennison. Eleanor wasn't at all how I had pictured the character of Jas, but nowhere near as bad as the casting of Georgia, and Alan Davies surprised me in how much I didn't feel like killing him. I have Alan Davies issues. But needless to say, this blah movie made me notice a good actress.

Why they'd be the perfect actor for the Lauren Willig Miniseries: She has such an amazing range, from the romantic heroine to the fierce independent woman to a pawn to the greater forces, she is believable and relatable in every single role I've even seen her in. Plus, you get this feeling that while weary of the world around her she still finds the humor in it. And I think she could really wield a stoat. Oh, and I think she could easily be described as a "gilded beanpole."

Lasting Impression: The White Queen, totally. I mean, yes, I've seen her in practically everything she's been in, but her portrayal of Isabel Neville in the addictive miniseries The White Queen made you have a real, human connection with someone who is just a name in history. Plus, you realize what serious acting chops she has.

What else you've seen them in: Um, you might have heard of this show everyone is obsessed with, it's call Poldark... I'm telling you, if she doesn't get an Emmy nomination for her work, I will weep. I mean, I turned into the show for Aidan, I mean, come on, it's Aidan, but I really stayed for Eleanor. Each week she makes you more and more invested in Demelza and Ross's relationship. But more then that, the depth of emotion. Seriously, she is going to be a big star, she's only twenty-three afterall! She's also been in the aforementioned Death Comes to Pemberley, an episode of Poirot, and a few big budget movies, like Jack the Giant Slayer and The Illusionist.

Can't believe it's them: The Sarah Jane Adventures! I am excused though because, seriously, look at all that makeup! But what amazes me more is that this two part episode "The Mad Woman in the Attic" is easily my favorite story arc on this show all because of the character Eleanor played. She was able to make an alien so very human and vulnerable and up the quality of a show that is usually pandering crap to something worthy of the Doctor Who canon.

Wish they hadn't: Alice in Wonderland. But then it's my belief that this Tim Burton, Johnny Depp monstrosity should never have been made. It is horrid. It is unbearable. It is getting a sequel? What the hell people!

Bio: Eleanor was born when I graduated 8th grade, making me feel very old. She comes from a family of performers, her mother is a singer and actress, while her father and her brother, who is ironically (in my mind) named Ross, are both actors. She was born in London and grew up in Yorkshire, getting her first acting gig at thirteen, by basically strong arming her father's agent into representing her. She seems to be a pretty private person, which I strongly applaud her for, seeing as she's in the limelight a lot. But what IS known is that she's a dog person and, instead of falling for Aidan Turner, she fell for his stuntman on Poldark. Ah romance.

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: Aidan Turner, Death Comes to Pemberley, Doctor Who, Dream Casting, Louise Rennison, Poirot, Poldark, Sally Fitzhugh, The Mark of the Midnight Manzanilla, The Mischief of the Mistletoe, The White Queen

Without a Summer by Mary Robinette Kowal
Published by: Tor
Publication Date: April 2nd, 2013
Format: Hardcover, 368 Pages
Rating: ★★★★★
To Buy

Jane and Vincent have been recuperating at Long Parkmeade after the trials and tribulations they faced in France. Though spending so much time with Jane's family is hard on her, she can see it's excessively wearying for her husband. Luckily a commission in London means they are not long for the city. Jane though feels a tug of pity for her sister. Here is Melody, trapped far away from eligible bachelors and aging more and more with every passing season. Jane impulsively decides to help Melody by taking her with them to London. Jane and Vincent can work during the day and throw parties and go to receptions in their spare time so that Melody gets a chance at the happiness her sister has attained.

London though is in a state of upheaval. The unnaturally cold weather means that crops are failing and people are looking for someone to blame, and they focus on the Coldmongers, a subgroup within glamourists that dangerously use glamour outside the visible spectrum and therefore have a short life expectancy. There is also the Irish Question and lingering hostilities towards the French. Because of Jane and Vincent's notoriety as the Prince Regent's Glamourists as well as Vincent being the son of Lord Vebury, they soon are dragged into the world of politics and their entire life is on show for the world. Will they be able to save their marriage, England, and get Melody married? That might take a little magic to pull off.

Re-reading Without a Summer I think that I might have maligned the book too much previously. I felt like it was such a departure for the final forth of the book from everything that came before that it was a square peg in a round hole. It was waving at sharks and thinking of perhaps jumping over them. I was so focused on what annoyed me that I was over-analyzing everything and almost searching for faults when I should have been enjoying the narrative shift. Each of the five books in this series has embraced a different genre, so to speak. We started with the traditional Austenesque book, Shades of Milk and Honey, moved onto espionage and war with Glamour in Glass, later Valour and Vanity would embrace the heist genre, while here we have politics and all that entails, from court to courting if you will. While I'm not the biggest fan of courtroom dramas, always liking the first half-hour of Law and Order over the second, knowing that it was coming I was able to look at the book more objectively and realize that I loved it just as much as the others. See, I have learned to admit when I'm wrong, and that's a big step for me.

But I think my opinions on Regency court procedure were very much formed by my hatred of Death Comes to Pemberley. I know she's dead, but I can not ever forgive P.D. James for this book hinging on old obscure British laws and courtroom antics. This one book did more harm then anything previously to make me come to revile courtroom drama. The tropes of surprise witnesses, the fainting of women in the gallery, please. While the narrative of Without a Summer did naturally lead itself to court, did it really have to bring forward all the problems of Jane and Vincent's marriage into public view? Hinting at the lewdness of Jane occasionally wearing men's garb, and perhaps that was because of Vincent's sexual proclivities that made his father hire the prostitute for him that was the center of their earlier fight? Blah blah blah. While I know great worldbuilding takes everything and every aspect of society into consideration, I could have done with a little more magic and a lot less mundane martial law.

Moving on from what nagged me let's embrace that which delights me. The true history being magically woven into this alternate history was staggeringly good. It's not just the bigger changes that captured my imagination, but the little ones, the fact that the battle of Waterloo never happened so that Waterloo Bridge is now Quatre Bras Bridge was a nice little touch, and all down to the Vincents in their previous adventure. But I really loved how Kowal tied in the frigid temperatures of 1816, known as "The Year Without a Summer," into not just the politics of the book, but into people's belief systems. Just think, snow in summer? You'd be more then a little concerned with this now wouldn't you?

The average person doesn't grasp that weather can not be controlled by glamour. Therefore people look for a scapegoat to explain away this problem, and the Coldmongers make a perfect target. They are specialized glamourists who deal with temperature. Even other glamourists don't know much about what they do, only knowing how dangerous it is to mess with the elements of hot and cold. They are poor, they are not understood, and they make a far more logical scapegoat then a volcano half a world away, which was actually the true reason for these bizarre meteorological conditions. Plus, this generally accepted belief of their culpability means that Vincent's father is able to politically exploit the situation to his own gain. Just sheer genius. Or should I say evil genius if I'm talking about Lord Verbury?

Though what I think I didn't really get the first time I read this book is that it's heroine isn't Jane, it's Melody. I just thought that Jane had had a brain transplant and that Melody was awesome. It never dawned on me that this was on purpose. Jane comes across as a little bit of a naive bigot. I know Jane had a sheltered life and was a bit oblivious to things before the arrival of Vincent in her life... but there's naive and then there's ignorance. All her opinions seemed to be based on "wild supposition instead of fact." She jumps to conclusions, has an obvious wariness of anyone Irish, despite the fact that she's working for them, and expresses astonishment at people of different skin colors. But what this does is gives Melody room to shine. Because while she has always been "the pretty one" somehow Jane hijacked her story.

In Shades of Milk and Honey Melody didn't get a HEA, she got stuck in the country with her parents while her sister got freedom and love. Melody has only ever been valued for her looks. It's nice to have our preconceptions turned on their heads. Melody has developed in other ways, she knows about current events and politics. She doesn't care that glasses will mare her beautiful face so long as she can see. She has taken her inability to excel at certain things, like glamour, and developed her mind to compensate. Melody has evolved into this strong independent woman and if Jane looks a little bad in comparison, well, think how Melody has felt all these years being valued only for her beauty? Just another stereotype exploded in artful fashion by Mary Robinette Kowal.

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: 1816, Battle of Waterloo, Coldmongers, Death Comes to Pemberley, Glamour, Glamour in Glass, Irish, Jane Vincent, Kindle, Mary Robinette Kowal, Mr. Vincent, P.D. James, Regency Magic, Without a Summer

As I have said before, from my first reading of The Secret History of the Pink Carnation I got a clear image in my mind of Miles. I admit it was an impression that was the wrong end of the stick once I got to know him better in The Masque of the Black Tulip. He was tall and gangly and a little bookish in my mind, a non-threatening beta to Richard's alpha male. At least I got the tall right. So for awhile my mind has been throwing up possible actors, I know, I hate to recast, but I think the time has come. Originally I was thinking of Tom Hopper, because of his connection with the actor I have cast for The Purple Gentian, Bradley James, but then I had a brainwave. I'll be interested to hear what you think...

Name: James Norton (which is also oddly the name of someone I went to high school with)

"Dream" Character Casting for the Lauren Willig Miniseries: Miles Dorrington

First Impression: So, he was in one of the lamest Doctor Who episodes ever. I've basically blocked all of "Cold War" out, so I have to take this screencap's proof he was in it. I mean seriously, you bring back the Ice Warriors and make it into The Hunt for Red October but lamer but at least mercifully shorter. Oh, and they refer to the TARDIS as male, when the TARDIS has and always will be a she!

Why they'd be the perfect actor for the Lauren Willig Miniseries: He has that stoic British charm that just won't quit. But more importantly, look at that floppy lock of hair! If we could just get his opinion on ginger biscuits...

Lasting Impression: Oliver Ashford in Belle. Seriously, if you have not seen this movie do so now. James plays the young man interested in Dido's hand. While he is overshadowed by Tom Felton as his creepy and racist brother, there is a sweetness to him that makes you think, well, he's not that bad a guy. Plus those tight trousers and knee breeches stretching and straining as he sits in a chair, hold me back. So yes, the knee breeches made him memorable.

What else you've seen them in: James Norton is an actor who has been popping up all over the place for the past five years. I was shocked by how much I'd actually seen him in without realizing it. He has a great way of being understated but lovable, which will do him well with his new starring role in Grantchester, based on the books by James Runcie. He's made appearances in everything from period comedic pieces like Blandings to the gritty Happy Valley. But it's his sweet, quiet roles that I'm a sucker for, most importantly Henry Alveston who won the heart of Georgiana Darcy in Death Comes to Pemberley. How they made that horrid book into an awesome miniseries still boggles the mind!

Can't believe it's them: Again, I state for the record, Doctor Who, but that's because of my own doing.

Wish they hadn't: Cheerful Weather for the Wedding because it is the dullest most boring movie I have ever watched in my entire life. In fairness I think House of Mirth might have been worse but I walked out on that movie when the flying death squad monkeys failed to appear and kill everyone with lasers (yes, this was an event I created and prayed for). But Cheerful Weather for the Wedding made me want to smack my head into my television. How could so many great actors make such a dull movie? One will never know. Oh, and that is Miles hanging out with Amy in this picture.

Bio: He grew up in Yorkshire which makes me wonder, with those cheekbones, how he never ended up as a sexy servant at Downton. Anyway, he was interested in acting at a young age but went to Cambridge to study theology which lead to him going to Nepal and studying Buddhism (at least I'm assuming that's why he went there, one does seem to lead to the other). On his return to England he enrolled in RADA and got his break in a very small role at the end of An Education... which would actually be where I probably saw him first but have totally forgotten, almost like Doctor Who, though not on purpose because I liked that movie. He started to pick up small parts in period pieces, but his breakthrough roles in the aforementioned Death Comes to Pemberley and Happy Valley led to him getting the starring role in Grantchester, which made him an insta-star after the premiere. What I'm really looking forward to though is his turn as Duncan Grant in the new drama about the Bloomsbury set, Life in Squares. Oh, and lots more Grantchester! 

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:01 AM 0 comments  

Labels: Belle, Blandings, Bradley James, Death Comes to Pemberley, Doctor Who, Grantchester, Happy Valley, James Norton, James Runcie, Miles Dorrington, TARDIS, The Masque of the Black Tulip, Tom Hopper

Clouds of Witness (Lord Peter Wimsey Book 2) by Dorothy L. Sayers
Published by: Harper Torch
Publication Date: 1926
Format: Paperback, 288 Pages
Rating: ★★
To Buy (different edition than one reviewed)

Lord Peter is taking some time off in Corsica. He has been incommunicado for some time. Therefore it is quite a surprise to him on arriving in Paris to find his older brother's name splashed across the front of the papers. Gerald has been arrested for murder! For once Lord Peter can show Gerald that his "lurid hobby" might be of some use to the family. Rushing back to England Lord Peter is fighting against the passing of time and the fact that the inquest has already happened. The family was in Riddlesdale, Yorkshire, where Gerald had rented out a lodge for hunting. Peter and Gerald's younger sister Mary was playing hostess and her fiance, Denis Cathcart was the victim of foul play.

Yet the motive for Gerald killing Cathcart is absurdly flimsy. Supposedly Gerald found out about Cathcart being a cardsharp and told him to leave. Why this should result in murder makes no sense. But Gerald is being obdurate. He will not tell where he was or what he was doing that night. The fact that Mary is also lying soon becomes obvious. With his own family obfuscating the truth, Lord Peter takes many a wrong turn, some into very boggy situations, before he heroically saves the day.

Me and Lord Peter have come to a bit of an understanding with this latest volume. Firstly, I didn't at any time want to hurl it across the room and I would only grumble about the stupid title every hour or so, not constantly. Clouds of Witness is one of those awkwardly titled books, I keep wanting to say "Clouds of Whiteness"... because, clouds, generally speaking, are white. If the title actually was the line used in the book "cloud of witnesses" that might have worked better, but still, awkward and will forever be a title I mangle. Back to me not hating Peter so much. Sure, most of the problems of the previous volume still proliferated, but the crime itself was far more interesting. In fact, I might have said I actually liked this book if the end of it hadn't gotten so bogged down in Gerald's trial that I was lost in a morass of legalese of outmoded British laws. If there is only one thing British I could be said to hate it's outmoded British courtroom dramas, this being the second worse perpetrator, P.D. James being the queen with Death Comes to Pemberley.

What I don't get is Sayers's weird way of setting up the crime in this case. It is odd that we arrive with Peter after the crime is committed. Almost as if we where the police brought in after some time to get to the bottom of things. Usually when you have a traditional country house murder that is very familial you're there every step of the way. Here it's a very different and novel approach. I personally was left a little cold by it. By not being on the ground and in the trenches as it happened, I was unable to get a connection to these other characters. They were literally just people I read about not cared about, which is the difference between a so-so book and a great book. Also, if she was going to take this tack of following Peter, why does Sayers let Peter wander off and leave is in the dark? She contradicts herself by changing her narrative style, especially at the end when Peter dramatically enters the House of Lords and lays out the case. If she had stayed true to the earlier half of the book we could have followed Peter and then curtailed the drawn out court case... just saying...

My big complaint of the previous volume was that you can't really tell one character from another, them all having, basically, the same voice. She seemed to have gotten this criticism at the time as well because she laboriously tries to make the Yorkshire natives "real" with a weird dialect that doesn't really work. I mean, yes, it's kind of funny because it's Jeeves and Wooster meets Wuthering Heights... but it just came across as not quite right and just another thing slightly wrong that made the book less whole. I also think I understand why Lord Peter annoys me. The way he's written he talks like he's speaking gibberish, like a 1920s version of Doctor Who. Sure it can be funny, and far more enjoyable if you picture Matt Smith as Lord Peter, but in the end, it's tiring trying to pick out the important bits of information from his verbal diarrhea. A forty minute show is one thing, and 300 page novel is another. Once again I shall lament the need for editors and move onto another book... hopefully this one without an author who assumes the reader is fluent in French... a common misconception of writers at the time... damn you Sayers and Mitford!

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: Clouds of Witness, Death Comes to Pemberley, Doctor Who, Dorothy L. Sayers, French, Golden Summer, Jeeves and Wooster, Lord Peter Wimsey, Matt Smith, Nancy Mitford, P.D. James, Wuthering Heights

Death Comes to Pemberly by P.D. James
Published by: Knopf
Publication Date: December 6th, 2011
Format: Hardcover, 304 Pages
Rating: ★★
To Buy

Elizabeth and Darcy have been married for some time. Theirs is a happy life. Despite any reservations Darcy had about his wife, she rose to each and every challenge. She runs the household and Pemberley with the love and respect of her staff and family, which already has two healthy little boys. Her sister, Jane, lives a short distance away and comes to Pemberley often with her husband Bingley. The household is in a massive upheaval in preparation for their annual ball which was a tradition of Darcy's mother, and which the family still upholds. The night before the ball has the family gathered together, Jane and Bingley have arrived early to help Elizabeth and Georgiana with the preparations, as well as Georgiana's two suitors, her cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, and an up-and-coming barrister, Alveston. What happens that night as they go to bed will change the lives of everyone present. Lydia arrives unexpectedly saying that Wickham and Denny are wandering in the woods and one of them is possibly dead, her and the coachman having heard gunshots. This being Lydia, she isn't that concise, or coherent, but the gist is understood.

Going into the depths of the forest, Wickham is found alive and crouching over the lifeless form of Denny. Wickham, despite initial incoherence, declares his innocence. But it's not that easy claiming innocence above the corpse of your friend who you've just argued with. The following days and months are spent in endless waiting. What will happen to Wickham? What really happened in those woods? Are they cursed? Will the shades of Permberley be thus polluted?

PD James is the mistress of mystery, the dame of death, the final word in her genre. Therefore I was expecting a lot more. I don't know why I should let myself get these high expectations, they are almost always crushed... but there you go, one of my many character flaws. Though I suspect PD of a greater character flaw, a Wickham sympathiser. I could not get ride of this nagging feeling the entire book that she didn't much care for Darcy and Elizabeth (who where woefully underused and also felt guilt towards Wickham) and really liked Wickham, who was given a lifestyle in youth that his true station in life could never support. Boo freakin' hoo. I bought this book for one purpose only, to see Wickham get what he deserves. A creeping leech who worms his way into peoples hearts and has been unrepentant in his ways all these many years. Yes, I know he's a fictional character, but unlike Willoughby, he had NO REMORSE!

Die Wickham, die! Which sadly, did not happen. But the whole mystery itself, aside from my Wickham issues was lackluster. I'm pretty decent at figuring mysteries out. Sometimes I don't try and I let myself enjoy the ride of reading the book, but not here. Here I was beat over the head with the clues so I couldn't avoid them. Heavy-handed foreshadowing indeed! I won't spoil it, but when PD went into a bit too much detail about certain "new" characters as well as a certain canines resting place, you should be able to put two and two together. If there had been some little twist, some little something, more fear, more gore, perhaps it would have taken this book beyond a cosy to something more enjoyable. Instead it seemed PD was more interested in the court proceedings of the day than actually creating suspense.

Of course I must handle the elephant in the room. There is a certain pressure of writing Austen. Books fall into two camps, the homage and the direct continuation. I personally like the homage. There's more fun to be hand, there's more you can do and there's less chance that you will attract the ire of Janites. Authors like Lauren Willig have successfully written with the flavor and time period of Austen without desecrating the hallowed six. Death Comes to Pemberley is of the second more dangerous camp and she creates a major fly in the ointment before the first page ends, with mistakenly referring to the odious Mr. Collins as Mr. Bennet's nephew. Um, no. Check your facts. He is a cousin. So step one, get your facts right, totally out the window. Then PD tries to jokingly/cleverly put in allusions to two other books in Austen's cannon. The first joke, about Wickham working for the Elliot's was very funny and you could see it as a possibility in some weird literature mash-up. But the second joke bringing in Emma, fell totally flat and seemed too much of a contrivance versus some little bit of fun on the side. True Janites should avoid this book like the plague. But if you're more of a causal Austen fan and aren't very good with the foreshadowing, go for it, it does have a pretty cover and the supporting characters that weren't in Pride and Prejudice are fun.

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: Darcy, Death Comes to Pemberley, Jane Austen, P.D. James, Pride and Prejudice, Wickham