strange and random happenstance

I am a brochure hoarder. Anywhere I go I grab one. The problem is what to do with them later? What's their purpose? They just take up space and yet you don't want to part with them. Unless they have a  place in a photo album or have a secondary function they are a waste of space and right now I'm all about downsizing. Therefore a brochure redesign is like a dream project for me. Because I can take it to the next level, making it functional and collectible. Though this assignment for school had two requirements, I had to use all the existing text in a current brochure while also using an interesting and unique fold. So I worked backwards. Whose brochure would I love to redesign and the answer quickly came to me, obviously The Jane Austen Centre in Bath. The next question was, what kind of fold? Well, for anyone like me who spends way too much time watching Jane Austen adaptations they covet getting a letter like Austen's characters, getting to crack the seal and unfold the paper. Therefore the fold became obvious, I would use a typical Regency letter fold.

What's unique about this fold is that it's based on one of Jane's own letters, which I scanned in and used as a background, drastically toned down to not interfere with the legibility of any information I needed to convey. While any brochure is functional to an extent I love that this made it a keepsake, like getting a letter from Austen herself. As for that red seal? No, it's not wax, but a faux wax seal sticker which can be purchased in bulk and used to add an air of authenticity. Ironically the seal in the picture is from another fandom I'm a part of. Yes, it's a seal for Hogwarts. Originally I wanted to take the wax seal further and create one in the centre's colors, but then I found out that during Jane Austen's time you could use only red or black wax, so it stayed red. Yes, I'm a stickler for certain things, also, the more you know, right?

The information in the brochure could basically be broken down into five categories: Jane Austen, Touring the Jane Austen Centre, the Gift Shop, the Tea Room, and Jane Austen's Bath. Using the centre's own logo as a starting point, I created four more icons to go with the subsections, a teacup, a reticule, a teapot, and an umbrella. These categories then easily divided the content into the sections that could correspond to the various panels the folds created. When you first open the brochure you get this nice little text area with all the information you could need with the headings set in a font based on Austen's own handwriting. In the smaller sections at the top I placed the valuable information of location, hours, and admission. But for me it was all about the interior of the brochure where I placed the map, where form and function combined in happy symmetry.

The entire interior was turned over to a map I drew in Photoshop with my Wacom. Yes. I drew a map of Bath with all the locations important to Jane Austen's life clearly marked. Why would I draw a map other than being totally OCD and always having a need to take a project to the next level? Because, to me, I find maps the most useful thing a brochure can give you. Therefore I figured I HAD to have a map. And while I haven't been to Bath I feel like I know it now. I drew out all the streets, and looked up all the names, I was not just an armchair traveler but an armchair detective, following Jane's life through the city she loathed. I hope one day to go to Bath, and before you ask, yes, I'm taking my own map. Though I also kind of want to see what would happen if I was left without a map. After this project could I find my way without any help? I have a feeling I could...

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: Armchair Detective, Bath, Bicentenary Ball, Brochure, England, Hogwarts, Jane Austen, Jane Austen Centre, Letters, Maps, OCD, Redesign, School, Tea, Unique Fold, Wacom, Wax Seal

Long before Miss Jessica and I created our Jane Austen crafting exchange for the bicentenary of Pride and Prejudice I had made another Jane themed present for her. I had ordered two of the Jane Austen's Cross-Stitch Kit Sampler from The Jane Austen Centre in Bath. I have always had a love of embroidery and cross-stitch from a very early age when at a friend's birthday party I was given a little kit to cross-stitch a Scottie dog. I was hooked. I even started making my own patterns and designs, much to the delight of my grandmother, as I was her only grandchild who showed an interest or aptitude in a home art that she excelled at. What I love about vintage embroidery is that someone slaved over it and even a hundred years later it's still around, the home arts preserved for generations. What's more, if you are recreating a sampler that was made by someone you know or admire, either a family member or an author, doing the same task unites you across time.

At least that's the joy I anticipated when The Jane Austen Centre released their first two kits. Jane and I would be connected through this task! The other kit was a portrait of Jane, and personally, it wasn't the best design. But this design? It's taken from a sampler Jane herself worked probably when she was about twelve years old but adapted here to fit an oval composition. I'd never worked a kit bought from England before, so I didn't know if this is common or not, but they use a different amount of embroidery thread. Usually when cross-stitching, at least stateside, you double the strand so that it doesn't disappear against the ground of the fabric. The kit said to use only one strand. I did try this, but just as I knew would be the case, the thread just disappeared against the background. Luckily I had ordered two kits, so I had double the thread. Which means if I ever get around to making one for myself I seriously need to do some DMC color matching or order myself two more kits, which seems a bit of a waste of money.
  But I seriously love how it turned out. I love that center of flowers and while not a religious person, knowing that Jane is the daughter of a rector growing up in parsonage the religious overtones are to be expected for various reasons. What I really love though is the use of very light yellow and cream threads that give the piece depth while at the same time not making the composition feel crowded. I had it simply but very elegantly framed by my friend Chuck at Meuer Art and Picture Frame Company. In fact Chuck framed it perfectly, with that silver frame being just the right counterbalance to the green matte and the colors in the piece. Complimenting but not overpowering. Also, an interesting note for those who want to get any cross-stitch framed, firstly look online for how to iron it, it's tricky but really works. But more importantly, because the fabric used is porous due to the nature of cross-stitch, make sure you get it stretched over a board that compliments the colors of the piece. If I had used a dark colored board behind the work, let's just say that it wouldn't have that airy elegance that it does.

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: Bath, Bicentenary Ball, Cross-Stitch, Embroidery, England, Home Arts, Ironing, Jane Austen, Jane Austen Centre, Meuer Art, Miss Jessica, Parsonage, Presents, Rector, Sampler, Thread

Emma lives a very cloistered life in Surrey. The fictional town of Highbury and her home of Hartfield are her entire world. A trip to Mr. Knightly's house is a big to-do. It's literally a half a mile away from Hartfield and Mr. Knightly visits Emma and her father daily and yet she hasn't been to Donwell Abbey in over two years! With these locations being in a small fixed sphere and fictional you might think that there's no way to "play the tourist" for Emma, but you'd be wrong. Because there is Box Hill! Box Hill is a very real place and if you think visiting Donwell Abbey is a big endeavor, just think about what going to an actual tourist site means for Emma? But it's just not the fact that Emma gets to see a glimpse of the wider world which makes Box Hill so important, it's that it's during this trip that everything comes to a head narratively speaking. During this trip Jane Fairfax decides to leave Highbury, Mr. Knightly gives up hope of winning Emma because of the display her and Frank Churchill put on, but most importantly this is where Knightly gives his "badly done Emma" smack down which makes her start to reflect inwardly and finally grow into the woman who would marry Mr. Knightly. Box Hill doesn't just command gloriously epic views of Surrey, it's an epic place psychologically for all our characters. Seriously, Box Hill is the linchpin of Emma.
 And while the excursion for our beloved characters mights not have gone to plan, that doesn't mean you should skip this destination spot which is cared for by the National Trust, there's a plaque and everything! It is the twelfth highest spot in Surrey and overlooks Dorking to the southwest. Due to generous donations of land and money over the years to save the site from development the area covers over 1,200 acres that you can walk admiring over forty species of butterflies and plants. That makes me sound incredible dorky (dorking?) when it comes to nature, but who doesn't love a pretty flower with a butterfly landing on it? Bizarre side note, my friend Matt actually made up a song about Butterfly Weed that I can still sing. If you're like me though the main thing you're wondering is why it's called Box Hill. Apparently it takes it's name from the box woodland on the steep west-facing chalk slopes overlooking the River Mole. Though I have no idea how the River Mole got it's name so I'm just going to make up a The Wind in the Willows reference for my own amusement. And speaking of amusement which tends to lead for the need of refreshment, instead of needing a huge staff of servants to take a picnic to the top of Box Hill for you the National Trust has kindly put in a cafe in the shop cum visitor's center near the viewpoint which serves light lunches and afternoon teas with takeaway teas and cakes available. So who's ready to go with me? You're paying.

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: Bicentenary Ball, Box Hill, Butterflies, Emma, Emma Woodhouse, England, Frank Churchill, Highbury, Jane Austen, Jane Fairfax, Mr. Knightly, National Trust, Nature, Picnic, Surrey, Tea, The Wind in the Willows, Tourist

Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy by John le Carré
Published by: The Franklin Library
Publication Date: 1974
Format: Hardcover, 355 Pages
Rating: ★★
To Buy (different edition than one reviewed)

When you're a spymaster for the Circus you don't really think about what your retirement will be like, yet that's what George Smiley has been forced to ponder for the last year. Forced out because of a botched operation in Czechoslovakia he spends his days waiting for his faithless wife to return to him. He has come to terms with the fact he'll never know what exactly happened, how Control botched things up so badly that Jim Prideaux got two bullets in his back and all their networks were blown. Yet fate as something different in store for Smiley. The Circus might be under new management, but there's now evidence that perhaps Operation Testify was brought down by a mole. Ricki Tarr is also on the outs with the Circus. Ricki was in Hong Kong to follow a member of the Soviet Trade Delegation code named Boris and ended up falling for Boris' wife, Irina. She was willing to defect for Ricki, but when Ricki contacted the Circus she was swept back to Moscow. Ricki was shaken, he knew this was proof of a mole and went to ground himself. He's come out of hiding to help bring down the mole. But the small enclave of agents working with Under Secretary Oliver Lacon agree, it's George Smiley who must run the operation. He's been called back into action and he must dig into the Hong Kong events, he must look into Czechoslovakia, he must use all the spycraft he's ever learned to smoke out a traitor among his own former colleagues and save the Circus from disaster.

Picking up a book that many people view as a Classic with a capital "C" is daunting. There are those books that legitimately deserve that classification... and there are those that, in my mind, don't. I truthfully don't think I have a prejudice against certain modern classics, but maybe I do... because if it's modern and about war, I just tune out. A Farewell to Arms, Catch-22, both modern classics that I just couldn't stand. Now along comes Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy and I'm torn. Because it's a classic of spy fiction, it's about the cold war, and well, it just left me cold. Yes, it's a clever and probably more realistic alternative to the image of Bond, but if this is a more truthful representation of the Cold War era perhaps that era isn't for me. It is rare for me to admit, but this book, about 95% of it just left me baffled. If was confusing and at times completely incomprehensible. Every so often I'd get into a good groove, I'd be like, yeah, I'm finally in the book, I totally know what's going on, then I'd put down the book for two seconds and when I picked it back up again it's like all the words had rearranged themselves on the pages and I had no idea what I had read, who anyone was, or what the hell was going on. At the close of the book it's almost like everything you read doesn't matter, it was a foregone conclusion that Smiley would catch the mole, and the mole doesn't justify himself, explain himself, or anything. So why exactly did I read this book again?

I read this book because it's THE spy book to read. Though I find it interesting that after reading it I find all these caveats from people complaining about Carré overwriting his characters and having tedious descriptions of all those who people his pages. I'd say that half that is right. Carré overwrites. He loves minutiae and getting into Smiley digging deep into files for what feels like hundreds of pages. And the thing is, it's not badly written, it's just badly plotted, like he's very purposefully trying to throw the reader off track and kind of forgets that was his purpose and he has now fallen down a rabbit hole and is writing gibberish. Nicely written gibberish, occasionally beautiful, but still gibberish. Whereas for his characters? I could really actually do with a bit more description. Because I have no way of telling them apart. Their names all kind of blended together and sometimes they were referred to by first names sometimes by last, and yet there's no mental image of what they look like to differentiate them. And seriously, one of the characters is named Bland!?! Yeah, cause that's SO going to make me remember him. I think that perhaps this is one of those books that would be better as a re-read because you supposedly know the characters, but the thing is I still don't know who these characters are. I figured out the mole in like five minutes and the rest was just hundreds of pages of sitting around literally reading about Smiley sitting around.

The reason the mole isn't that hard to spot is because Carré based this book on his own experiences, in particular the revelation of the Cambridge Five, Philby, Maclean, Burgess, Blunt, and Cairncross. I know quite a bit about this from watching the Cambridge Spies miniseries as well as all the documentaries on the DVD set which were actually far more interesting. So knowing this history going in it was just about matching the ill-defined character to the real life counterpart. Of course later in the book they are all given codenames, Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Poor Man, and Beggarman. But that doesn't matter because obviously the mole is the one most like Philby, aka "Tailor." In fact Tailor is the only one really described in detail of the group, so it's not that much of a leap to deduce him as the mole. The only real question that needs answering in this story is if the mole was working alone or as part of a group, like the Cambridge Five. I think it's a bit of a cop-out that Tailor was working alone, but in a way that used the rest of his group and kind of made them look complicit. Having the taint of Communisim be more deep-seated, more wide spread would have made Smiley's task harder. It wouldn't have been just one word, but several. After all that palaver to end with just one? Seems kind of wasteful.

What was fascinating about reading this book in the current world climate is that this book is still very relevant. Until the last few years, and in particular since the election, I think the vast majority would have said that the Cold War ended with the dissolution of the USSR in 1991. While now we see that it's never ended, just went black ops, underground. So all this spycraft was still ongoing. This isn't a book about 1974 and the events before, this is a book about now. This book is so relevant it's actually a little spooky. To think that everything we had kind of relegated in our mind to being something of the past to realize it's of the now... Carré knows what he's writing about, even if it's not that linear or succinct. There's a reason why The Night Manager resonated so much with viewers, and it's not just because of Tom Hiddleston's ass. In the labyrinth of Smiley's world and all the dealing and double-dealing that goes on, there was one thing that really struck me. That sometimes a country would welcome a defector with open arms, promise them safety, security, a new life, not just for their secrets. There was a hidden agenda. Yes, a vast majority would be taken in, some played back into their country, but some, some were just taken in for bargaining down the road. Some were then sold to other countries, some even sold back to the country they had defected from. That just scares the shit out of me. To be promised this new life only to be passed along.

But what I found most startling was that at the root of it, the mole's reason for turning against his country wasn't a hatred for Britain, it was a hatred for the United States. Tailor clearly saw Britain's position on the world stage and realized that they could never bring down the United States, he saw their ineffectualness. Only the USSR could destroy America, so he should align himself with them in order to achieve his goal. While I fully admit, especially right now, America isn't a popular country, I don't quite get why Tailor felt this way. His reveal as the mole and his summation of why was given so few pages that his hatred of America felt a bit like a slap in the face. I just wanted the why. Why did he come to this conclusion personally. America is barely mentioned in the book. A few of the spies are in Washington from time to time but years previously, and Karla, the Russian spymatser, ran a failed radio scheme in San Francisco, but that is the only real mention of America. So why should Tailor, who was, let's face it, a lover of the finer things, including lots of pretty men and women, and wasn't logically the traitor aside from the fact he aligned with Philby's profile, a strident hater of all things American? I think this is what will stick with me most. Not the rambling and meandering of Carré but the xenophobic hatred of America that comes out of nowhere at the last second. Just why!?!

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: A Farewell to Arms, Benediction, Cambridge Spies, Catch-22, Cold War, Communist, England, George Smiley, John le Carré, Modern Classic, Russia, Spies, The Night Manager, Tinker Tailor Solider Spy, Tom Hiddleston

Frenchman's Creek
Based on the Book by Daphne Du Maurier
Starring: Tara Fitzgerald, Tim Dutton, James Fleet, Mika Simmons, Anna Popplewell, Jack Snell, Yorick van Wageningen, Danny Webb, Rupert Vansittart, Michelle Wesson, Michael Jenn, and Anthony Delon
Release Date: April 25th, 1999
Rating: ★★
To Buy

London isn't the safest or the sanest place to be and Lady Dona St. Columb sees this. Her husband has always been a gambler and he backed the wrong horse in supporting the current King. James II is on his way out; it's a foregone conclusion that his son-in-law William of Orange will soon be King of England. Therefore Dona decamps back home to Cornwall and Navron. She thought the country would be safer, but the Cornish Coast is rife with soldiers and apparently riddled with spies. Loyalties and religious beliefs are questioned by all. Soon Dona is in the center of this conflict owing to her servant William and his true master, the spy Jean Aubrey. William and Aubrey have been using Navron as a safe house while the nearby creek is perfect for housing Aubrey's boat, La Mouette. Dona is caught between a rock and a hard place, she doesn't want to look like a traitor, but who should she be swearing fealty to anyway?

The more she learns about Aubrey the more she realizes how similar they are. Dona certainly has more in common with this spy then with her fellow aristocrats. Soon she is no longer just sheltering fugitives but actively participating in their schemes. It's high adventure to stick it to the insufferable boors like Lord Godolphin and Rashleigh. As she sees it wasting three hours of her time is equal to them losing a prize ship. But at the end of this grand adventure she must return home and she is surprised by the arrival of her husband and his lecherous friend Lord Rockingham. The arrival of these two, with a full compliment of guards indicates that Aubrey's freedom is in great peril. He is now all Dona thinks about. In such an unsettled time danger is around every corner and a word spoken by even the most innocent could spell doom. Can Dona secure Aubrey's freedom? If she is successful will she sail with him into the sunset or take up the mantle of her previous life? Only time will tell.

This adaptation gives the distinct impression that one day someone was watching The Last of the Mohicans and went, "YES! That's what we want! Guys with long hair jumping off things and two forces at war and a love story!" Then someone else went "Well, how about adapting Daphne Du Maurier's Frenchman's Creek? It's set almost a hundred years earlier but we can make it work!" Conveniently forgetting everything that Frenchman's Creek stands for and making it the swashbuckling adventure they fantasized it to be. Gone is the journey of one woman's discovery of herself, a period piece that is relatable to this day, and in it's place is a rather silly movie that probably has more in common with the oft maligned Cutthroat Island than with it's source material. I mean, the title "Frenchman's Creek" doesn't even make sense anymore! Because in the book the creek is the Frenchman's hideout, here it's the house he is using and the ship is just moored wherever.

Of course this all made sense to me when I saw that the writer just happened to be the executive producer of the TV show Homeland. A show that specializes in overwrought drama that forces every aspect of life to revolve around politics and religion. I think that the rule of thumb for a happy family gathering during the holidays of not talking about politics and religion should apply to adaptations where the source material doesn't support the addition. You don't randomly throw politics and religion into a story making a time-shift needed!!! Which makes it so obvious to me that this was adapted by a man. Because the politics and the religion justify Aubrey's actions and give him morals. In the book he's a freakin' pirate, but by making him a spy, oh, everything he does is just fine. How many times do I have to yell it that this is the story of a woman! It's not Aubrey's story, it's Dona's!

To change everything to make the male more important? Just no. Du Maurier would be furious. I'm furious! She wrote strong female characters and Dona is basically made into a prop for Aubrey. She's just there to faun over him not as a means to finding out her purpose in life. This all starts early in the movie by changing WHY Dona leaves court. This creates a seismic shift in her character. In the book she leaves court out of disgust at herself and the courtly antics of those hanging around Charles II, the King BEFORE James II. To make her flee even for an ounce of danger!?! Um, how does that work with the life she then takes on? How can she be a spy if she can't handle a few disgusting suitors? All the changes just don't make sense to me. I keep asking myself "why" over and over again. Because if the people behind this thought that no one would watch a faithful adaptation of a book with great characters but little plot I'm totally confused because that's basically what Downton Abbey was and that was like the biggest hit ever.

But what really effected me the most was that this adaptation was chock-a-block with violence. Which had two results. One, I hated it, and two, it was another way in which Dona was downgraded. I'm really not one of those people harping on and on about there being too much senseless violence. I don't think video games make people kill. I'm just wanting to make it clear I'm not one of those people before I say, WTF!?! I lost count at how many people died. In the capture of Lord Godolphin and Rashleigh's ship the spies are blowing up and running through people like there's no tomorrow. If Mr. "Homeland" had wanted to show the morals of Aubrey how about keep it like the book? Aubrey doesn't kill ONE SINGLE PERSON in the book. What this does is place a spotlight on Dona killing Rockingham. In the book this single death packs a massive wallop whereas being just one death among so many it completely loses it's significance. Throw in that mass murder at the end and Dona's children beating Satan out of a dog, and Dona once again doesn't matter much.

And once again I have to point out that this isn't the fault of the actors. Yes, it was fairly obvious there was a strata among the acting abilities in the cast, Aubrey was laughably bad, but the good still shown through the muck. Actors going about, trying to do the best with what they were given, so that sometimes you see what it could have been and you become sad that this is what you have. Yet I did try to latch onto what was good, what worked. Tara Fitzgerald and Danny Webb brought their A game. You could actually see something of the book Dona and William that made them sparkle a little like Dona's ruby earrings when they were onscreen. When I read the book I was utterly unconvinced that Tara Fitzgerald could not pull off Dona, despite being such a fan of hers. This adaptation of Frenchman's Creek showed that she was 100% the right choice. Now if they had just stuck to book Dona this would probably be a glowing review! But my heart belonged with James Fleet as Dona's husband. He has this awesome James Fleetness that makes you just always love him. I don't know if it's because of Vicar of Dibley, but I truly think there's something great in his soul that makes this likability always shine through even when an ass. Of course Dona went back to her husband! There really wasn't a choice to jilt James! He made the boorish role of Harry his own and in doing so made this his movie.

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: Cornwall, Danny Webb, Daphne Du Maurier, Dona St. Columb, Du Maurier December Deux, England, Frenchman's Creek, James Fleet, Murder, Restoration, Spies, Tara Fitzgerald, The Last of the Mochicans, Vicar of Dibley

War Horse
Based on the book by Michael Morpurgo
Starring: Jeremy Irvine, Peter Mullan, Emily Watson, Matt Milne, David Thewlis, Robert Emms, Tom Hiddleston, Benedict Cumberbatch, Patrick Kennedy, David Kross, Celine Buckens, Niels Arestrup, Nicolas Bro, Toby Kebbell, Julian Wadham, Liam Cunningham, Eddie Marsan, and Pip Torrens
Release Date: December 25th, 2011
Rating: ★★
To Buy

Young Albert Narracott's dreams come true when his father, drunken and surly, outbids their landlord for a young colt. The Narracott's were in desperate need of a plow horse but Albert has spent months watching the young colt grow, spying through the various fences of Devon, and knows that he can train him because they were destined to be together. Against all odds Albert succeeds only to lose his horse, Joey, because their crop failed and his father had no other recourse, drunk and bitter from the Boer War, he sells Joey. Another war has begun and Joey is sold to a Captain James Nicholls, an upstanding solider who promises to return Joey to Albert after the war. Albert begs to accompany Captain Nicholls but is too young to join up. Tearfully he promises Joey that they will be reunited. In France Joey a has steep learning curve, especially when it comes to being around other horses. But he quickly bonds with Major Jamie Stewart's black stallion and the two are inseparable, even as their riders are mowed down by German gunfire they remain together behind enemy lines. It is a long war and soon Albert is old enough and enlists and is stationed abroad. Will he find Joey or will they forever be separated?

War Horse, by it's episodic nature following Joey through all his adventures is reminiscent of Black Beauty. Therefore you could basically call this film Black Beauty Goes to War. The problem with this kind of storytelling is that you really have to be invested in the character of the horse. And while the horse who played Joey could easily be singled out as one of the best actors in the film, it still didn't make this film work. The main problem I had was that the film seemed to be taking it's subject matter too lightly. This could be seen in every frame with the overly perfect shutters and thatching on the Narracott's overly large farmhouse to the goose being used as comic relief. I don't think that Spielberg got the memo that England is supposed to be a little gloomy and run down. Instead he artifically lit most scenes, seriously, look at the two light sources in almost every scene! Oh, and that spotlight on Emily Watson when she leans out the window? What the hell? This was the best lit war EVER! The problem with this is that it literally felt like you were watching Babe or Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, forever waiting for the animals to start talking or a Teletubby to wander by. I would also totally recommend those films before this one.

This overall stylization makes for a very sanitized Disneyfication of World War I. Yes, I know the lack of blood and the cunning use of windmill blades was to secure that ever important family friendly PG-13 rating to make this the holiday film of 2011, but still... why? Why the hyper exaggerated colors? Why this muted horror? Why tone down The Great War!?! This is an event that forever changed the world and this movie almost makes light of it. Yes, there are moments that pull on your heartstrings, but I don't think it gets across any important message that could be said about this war. If you wanted to really make this film right, don't pull punches. I mean, would you ever seriously imagine the director of Schindler's List pulling punches? This film could have opened up a dialogue with the younger generations who didn't know about the war and everyone could sit around sipping eggnog and discussing the atrocities. Instead it focuses on the more "romantic" nature of the war, wherein instead of soldiers putting down their weapons on Christmas and meeting in no man's land to have a sing-a-long and a game of football they all unite to save Joey from the barbed wire, even with comedic throwing of wire cutters. There shouldn't be comedic throwing of wire cutters people!

Speaking of the comedy... this film highlights the fact that comedy shouldn't be banned from the saga of war, just look to Blackadder! Comedy can be used if done right. Which is why I must hang my head in bafflement that this film was co-written by the co-writer of Blackadder! Richard Curtis! YES! I was just as shocked as you are, I'm assuming you're shocked here by the way. I couldn't believe that a man who handled the first world war with such insight, such nuance, could produce this schmaltz. SHAME ON YOU RICHARD CURTIS! You have let the schmaltz take over. Let's look to your IMDB credits shall we? Comedic and insightful genius through the eighties, I particularly love The Tall Guy and Rowan Atkinson's performance in that. The nineties are a little rockier, I hate Mr. Bean but my love of The Vicar of Dibley outshines anything because it's one of my favorite shows ever. The turn of the century started off strong with Bridget Jones's Diary and then it quickly went to hell in a handbasket. Love Actually, yes I know I'm alone in my hatred of that but I can't be alone in my hatred of the Bridget Jones sequel! Oh, and The Girl in the Cafe! You Richard Curtis have turned into some sort of romantic bleeding heart that has to have a "message" in their work. What happened to the quality of the work emphasizing the message versus the work being solely about the message? You have failed me sir, and you have failed War Horse.

Because the thing is, everyone I know who has read the book or seen the stage adaptation has been moved by the brilliance of War Horse. This wasn't brilliant, unless you are talking about the lighting. You can kind of glimpse what made the book stand out if you look for it. What I did find interesting was that by tracking Joey's journey we get to see the war from both sides. It's kind of like he is a prisoner of war, yet the English, aside from the stalwart Captain Nicholls, are just as barbarous and uncaring to their animals as the Germans. So buried deep there is the message hidden from sight that despite their differences, despite being on different sides, both sides are the same, just young boys being killed by the great war machine that cares little for them or animals. So I guess I could say it was nice that this wasn't all one-sided? We saw not very nice Englishmen, and some very nice Germans. And that poor French girl and her grandfather did a nice job representing those caught in-between the conflict. So, I guess what I'm trying to get at is that all the pieces where kind of there, just put together in such a way that the whole didn't work. It was too jumbled, too scattered, too toned down, too saccharine. And the thing is, the movie has kind of turned me off ever wanting to see the play or read the book and what if they really are as brilliant as people say? Then I'm just losing out because of some misguided desire of Spielberg's to make another war movie, but this time for the whole family.

I also can not lie about the fact that I really had to see this movie eventually because of the Hiddles/Cumberbatch confluence. Now, I'm not trying to be biased here, there are performances of theirs I haven't liked so I'm not always fawning on them. Hiddles was in that awful A Waste of Shame and was in the abysmal Cranford sequel, and I can not forget the mess that was High-Rise. As for Benedict... avoid Tipping the Velvet, Starter for 10, Atonement, and all those "Hobbit" but not really The Hobbit movies. Oh, and Parade's End! So when I say they were a highlight of this film I'm NOT playing favorites. But their appearances were more bitter than sweet, because for just a second you could see what this movie might have been. They are true actors, they fully physically embody the characters they play. In fact Benedict's performance as Major Jamie Stewart was fabulous because I one hundred percent hated him. The brusque voice, the posture where it always looked like he had a stick up his ass. This wasn't Benedict in all his goofiness, this was Major Stewart, and he could have been an interesting character if given more screen time. As for the naivety that Hiddles brought to Captain James Nicholls, the ability of him to show the horror of the realization that he is about to die using just his eyes... perhaps the most touching and real moments in this entire film. And there's not much reality to be had here.

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: A Fall of Poppies, Babe, Benedict Cumberbatch, Black Beauty, Blackadder, Disney, England, France, Germany, Horses, Richard Curtis, Rowan Atkinson, Schindler's List, Steven Spielberg, Tom Hiddleston, War Horse, WWI

Fingersmith by Sarah Waters
Published by: Riverhead
Publication Date: October 1st, 2002
Format: Paperback, 548 Pages
Rating: ★★★
To Buy

Sue Trinder has grown up in Lant Street. She has never left this slummy Borough of London, and has never wanted to. She has lived her entire life in the care of Mrs. Sucksby, who makes her living farming babies. But Sue was the only baby that ever mattered to Mrs. Sucksby. They live with Mr. Ibbs, who makes his living in the roundabout manner of taking in dubious goods through the back door and sending it out the front in a slightly different "legitimate" form. The rest of the household is made up of Mr. Ibbs' invalid sister and John Vroom, a man with a love for dog skins, and his simple girl Dainty. This is Sue's world entire. And they are as dear to her as family. One day an acquaintance, known to all as Gentleman, arrives with a plan to make all their fortunes using Sue. Mrs. Sucksby has always told Sue that she would be the making of them all and now Sue has her chance.

Gentleman has been posing as an artist, a Mr. Rivers, for a Mr. Lilly, who lives out west in the Thames Valley. Mr. Lilly has a niece, Maud. Maud is where their fortune will be found. Gentleman has been seducing this isolated girl in hopes of getting at her fortune through marrying her but has hit a brick wall. Maud's maid, who was their chaperon, has taken ill and now Maud isn't allowed in the presence of Gentleman. Gentleman has decided to fix that. By installing not only a new chaperon, but one that will help him pursue his interests with Maud. With Sue on the inside it is a win win situation. They will compromise Maud, throw her in an insane asylum, and split her vast fortune and live like toffs. What could possibly go wrong? In a world where there are plots within plots, games within games, and you don't know who's playing who, there are a lot of ways this could play out... and perhaps it won't be to everyone's liking.

Fingersmith is an amazing book if you were to redact the final two-thirds of the book. Divided into three parts the second and third parts are repetitive. Waters showed us in that first-third what she was capable of, and if it had ended there this could have been a true classic. But instead she chose another course. Yet I wonder if this drawing out of the narrative wasn't purposeful. Yes, she could have had a tauter more compact story, but that would defeat the Victorian aspect. I think being overly long and taking the narrative straight into "I don't care land" is a staple of true Victorian writing, or Victorian-esque in this case. Like Wilkie Collins's The Woman in White, which Fingersmith strongly emulates, it overstays it's welcome by several sections. Looking back onto the other Waters book I've read, The Little Stranger, I realize now that that book really did have the perfect ending. You weren't sure what happened and it ended a bit mysteriously. If Waters had done that with this book, ending on a cliffhanger and being all mysterious, I would have been blown away and ranked it up there with some of the finest short fiction with the likes of Shirley Jackson. Instead she went the route of Wilkie Collins, and you can't really blame her for that.

Yet I can blame her for the repetitive nature of the storytelling. The Woman in White might have overstayed it's welcome but it was always moving forward. By having two different narrators with Sue and Maud, we see the exact same events at least twice. With the second section with Maud narrating I was almost skipping pages going, OK, I've already read this all from Sue's point of view, let's get to the part where we left off with Sue so that I get to the forward progression of the narration. Though once we move forward, back to Sue, we go back to the ending of part one! We have learned so much from Maud that it is painful to then have to live through Sue's excruciatingly slow journey to see Sue learn all that we already know. One step forward, two steps back. That cliffhanger to end part one... it will blow you away. Yet it is soon nullified and made pointless by all the other twists and turns and cliffhangers that come after it. The impact is lost in the dragging narrative. It got to the point where it was like watching M. Night Shyamalan's The Village, I kept not only waiting for the next not really shocking twist, but I got good at predicting what it would be, and in the end you really didn't care. So, by all means, read this book, just don't read past part one.

Though this book can't be discounted just for falling prey to the tropes Waters is emulating. She does an amazing job of capturing the seamy side of Victorian London. Sometimes you're reading about other times and think, now that would be a nice place to visit. Not here, not this world. And I think that's what makes the world of the book so real. You feel as if this is probably the most accurate depiction you've ever read of this time period. It's filthy and dirty, it's creaking corset stays on a large woman who never washes herself and the secrets she hides within her bodice. Maud's penchant for gloves, though not of her own doing, at least is some kind of barrier to the grotesques that are discussed. But even they are tainted. Yet it's the unrelenting depravity and filth combined with characters who you don't just dislike, but who have nothing good or nice ever happen to them that wears you down in the end. Sure a little history of Victorian pornography is well and good, but after awhile, you say enough is enough. This book grinds you down, and in the end, you are relieved that it is done.

The secret of Mr. Lilly and his pornography collection builds on this seamy underbelly that Waters has exposed. The Victorian London she is depicting isn't the one we really see in the literature of the day. While Victorians were far more into sex, sensationalism, and penny dreadfuls than popular authors of the day were willing to depict, it is still a little taboo. Over time the image that has arisen in popular culture is of the Victorians being a very prudish lot. They never talked about sex and didn't even know quite how one went about it, like the old Pete and Dud sketch where children are conceived through sitting on warm chairs and the eating of good meals. The last few years at the steampunk convention I go to I have attended a panel on the "Forbidden Image." Which is a "selection of erotic images from the Victorian era and classical images known to the Victorians ... but forbidden by polite society!" The images, ones that would no doubt be in Mr. Lilly's collection, show that these things did indeed exist. Any new technology soon goes to sex, just look at the internet. So is it any wonder that as soon as there was photography there was pornography? Fingersmith doesn't just depict Victorian England as we know it, but as it actually was.

Which leads to Sue and Maud. This book is perhaps most famous because it continues in Waters tradition of depicting lesbianism in different eras. Sapphic love has been around as long as there have been humans, but outside of pornography, it wouldn't have been openly discussed in Victorian times, despite it existing. Here Waters is breaking down another door, going all out with what would be a taboo subject and making it believable and compelling. For all the repetition and all the tropes she falls victim to in her writing of Fingersmith, there is the other side of the coin. All that she does right. A more accurate depiction of the times, relationships that are real, making us readers see that this world of times gone by was just as real as the "now." I also defy anyone to not find Sue and Maud's sex scene quite steamy. With their bodies connecting it makes us feel for them, and no, not in THAT way. It's a scene that makes them both so vibrant and alive that even if you hadn't found some connection to the characters, this one moment will make them real for you. Because more than anything, that is what this book does, make Victorian England real. 

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: Backlog Bonanza, England, Fingersmith, Lesbian, M. Night Shyamalan, Pete and Dud, Peter Cook, Pornography, Sarah Waters, The Little Stranger, The Village, The Woman in White, Victorian, Wilkie Collins

The Grand Tour by Patricia C. Wrede and Caroline Stevermer
Published by: HMH Books for Young Readers
Publication Date: September 1st, 2004
Format: Hardcover, 480 Pages
Rating: ★★★★
To Buy (different edition than one reviewed)

Cecelia and Kate are back in action, together not separate for this adventure, and they're bringing their new spouses along for the honeymoon. Though Kate doesn't think there's any chance she's going to get used to being called Lady Schofield, much as Cecelia is having a hard time remembering she is Mrs. Tarleton, nevertheless they are in wedded bliss. Heading to the continent with Kate's new mother-in-law, Lady Sylvia, in tow for the first leg to Paris, they have barely arrived in France when magical misdeeds are afoot. They are inexorably drawn into a possibly Bonapartist plot to use items of magical significance to legitimize Napoleon as ruler of Europe, or at least they assume it's the recently deposed despot. The magic adds supernatural significance to the appointed leader making their rule as close to divinity as is possible. Asked by Wellington himself to stop this atrocity from happening, the happy couples are able to move about the continent on their grand tour with the whim of newlyweds, when really their whims are strategic plans to catch a magical mastermind. Hopefully they won't be in too much danger and that there will be lots of operas for Kate.

As you can imagine, reading all these books centered during the Regency in England basically means that I've been living in the early 1800s now for a couple of months. What you might not be aware of unless you've noticed the link on my sidebar is that I'm participating in a year long re-read of all Lauren Willig's Pink Carnation, aka Napoleonic War Regency England, books. This month I'm moderating the discussion of the re-read of The Orchid Affair on my friend Ashely's blog, The Bubble Bath Reader. And no, I'm not mentioning this just to get you to go over to her blog, though that would be rather nice, I'm mentioning this because my re-reading of both The Orchid Affair and The Grand Tour was a nice confluence of events that made me appreciate the later more then I did initially.

The two books serve as complimentary volumes dealing with the loss of the monarchy in France because of the revolution. While The Orchid Affair was about restoring a prince of the blood during the reign of Napoleon prior to his self-proclaimed Empire, The Grand Tour dealt more with the aftereffects of the war and the desire to not repeat recent history. Because both books, while not exactly being for governance by a sovereign entity, show quite well the fact that there is a benefit to stability. In France the stability is no longer having a fear of the guillotine, in Italy, it is the unification of all of Italy into one nation. By having a better grounding in history due to The Orchid Affair, what was on my first read of The Grand Tour a rather dull trek through Europe following artifacts, became something more real, something that actually had importance and impact. A little perspective can easily change your opinion if you are willing to let it.

But what I really think is the strength of The Grand Tour is that it brings the actual tradition, the coming of age right of the grand tour of Europe into a more visceral experience. Mainly this has to deal with travel during the early 1800s. In so many books of the time, or written about the time, the grand tour was just mentioned as a right of passage, a way to expand your knowledge and tastes by traveling and seeing great works of art. You were expected to gain some culture and then return home with a broadened mind and some stories. So in fiction you usually have the character who mentions they are setting off on this trip or have just returned, but do they talk about the actual day to day travel? No, they talk about art and artifacts. But just wrap your head around the fact that this is before trains, before cars, and there are a lot of mountains in Europe.

The "Tour" was more of a trek. To get a sense of this one would be better off reading travel narratives of the day, not fiction, or just read The Grand Tour. What Stevermer and Wrede have done so expertly is capture the hardships and danger that was involved in traveling through Europe in the 1800s, masked gunmen aside. We think we have it bad when our plane is delayed or we are rerouted? Imagine having to take days in a carriage banging about just to get from one city to another? Not only that. How about crossing the Alps? Here's your donkey, don't look down. Seriously, we, as travelers, have NOTHING to gripe about. Nothing! Poor Kate seems to spend the entirety of the trip cold, wet, and rattled; and that's not even because of evil magicians set on creating an overlord, this is just because of drafty carriages, wet weather, wind, and badly maintained roads. It takes the glamor right out of the grand tour, but in it's place it leaves a truth that is universal but is usually glossed over by other writers.

As for Stevermer and Wrede's continuation of the letter game? It fell flat. The Grand Tour was written over fifteen years after Sorcery and Cecelia and during the interim both the authors have gained a maturity in their writing. While this does lead to a solid writing style, it loses the spontaneity and fun of the previous book. It's more refined, it's more polished, almost to the point where you can no longer hear the distinction between the author's voices. Plus, I know the fact that the characters are on the tour together means that the previous convention of writing letters back and forth isn't tenable, so we are into diary territory, but the whole gimmick of the letter game is that the characters aren't together. So Stevermer and Wrede thought it would be fun to break basically the only rule of the letter game. Maybe they should have realized the rule is there for a reason. Having the narrative shift back and forth between Kate and Cecelia while they are often in the same room led to a bad case of head-hopping and having us readers get whiplash. So the book might have a lot going for it, and it's a solid read, but it lacks that magical spark that makes Sorcery and Cecelia so memorable.

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: 1800s, Caroline Stevermer, England, Europe, France, Italy, Lauren Willig, Magic, Napoleon, Patricia C. Wrede, Regency, Regency Magic, Sorcery and Cecelia, The Grand Tour, The Orchid Affair, Travel

The Scapegoat
Based on the book by Daphne Du Maurier
Starring: Matthew Rhys, Eileen Atkins, Anton Lesser, Jodhi May, Phoebe Nicholls, Andrew Scott, Sheridan Smith, Pip Torrens, and Julian Wadham
Release Date: 2012
Rating: ★★★
Unavailable

John Standing has lost his teaching job, Greek being thought archaic when conversational French is far more useful. That night in a bar he is mistaken for another man, a man that looks just like him. They spend the night talking, or as Johnny Spence views it, having a conversation with himself. Come morning Johnny Spence has fled with John Standing's belongings and Johnny's life is thrust on John. He never thought that he could slip so easily into a life of wealth and luxury, yet he seems to be doing just that. John slowly tries to repair the damage that Johnny has wrought to his own family and soon he realizes that he loves them all and wants to stay. But Johnny has other ideas as how to best use this unexpected boon that having a doppelganger gives him.

Now, as you probably know, I am an Anglophile in the extreme. I  long to live in "this scepter'd isle... this blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England!" During the Jubilee Year I sat on my couch at ungodly hours to watch flotillas and parades. Yet never once did I think, you know what would make a great paring? Daphne Du Maurier and the Queen's coronation. Because they exist in different worlds and never the twain shall meet until someone at itv went, hey, here's a wacky idea, why don't we take Daphne Du Maurier's The Scapegoat and make it for the jubilee! We'll strip out all the nuance of the story and totally ignore the fact that it's set in France and make it about "those who have greatness thrust upon them" therefore drawing a parallel between Queen Elizabeth and John Standing, who both have responsibilities they weren't prepared for foisted on them. Um no. This makes an interesting movie, one that can stand on it's own fine and works better that way because as an adaptation it leaves so much to be desired.

The Britishness that was thrust upon the story changes everything. The setting of the story in France was deliberate on Du Maurier's part. She not only wanted to explore her family's history of glass making in France but she wanted to deal with the issues of what scars are left behind within a country that collaborated with the enemy. The past and the present and the future of her characters all hinges on what was sacrificed because of war. John, living in a world without attachments, doesn't understand that everything in life is about compromises. The compromises we make with our friends, our families, and even our enemies. He stumbles about trying to find this balance between daughter, wife, mother, lover. His struggle and final acceptance is the driving force of the narrative, whereas the film version of John thrives after one or two missteps.

No secrets, just happiness. WTF! Has Charles Sturridge, the writer of this adaptation, ever actually read and understood any Du Maurier? It's ambiguity in the end all the way! What are we to learn about someone who takes up the offered mantle of responsibility and doesn't stumble? Nothing is to be learned! Sure, we can compare him to George VI and how he stepped into the vacuum left by his Nazis loving brother, but that's not what this book is about! There's nothing that gets my goat more then taking a book, and instead of exploring or expanding on one or another theme, they cram the book into what they want it to be instead of what it is. You can see why Du Maurier was always hesitant about anyone adapting her work; they just don't get it.

In fact if you look at the new setup of the plot, it doesn't work. John Standing is fired at the beginning of the movie and therefore has no life to go back to. Whereas the book's John has a life that his duplicate is currently living and destroying. Without a life to go back to why would he even care about leaving? Why would he want to go back to nothing? It doesn't make sense? Though none of the changes make sense because each change so drastically alters the story that it is truly an unstable house of cards. As for the wife's pregnancy... well, without it I just saw that house of cards starting to fall...

Yet what I missed most was that unease that Du Maurier's writing always captures. The oddities of humanity and the inability to define the grey areas of the human psyche. The most obvious example of character shift is in the young daughter, the very French Marie-Noel, being turned into the very benign Mary Lou. Marie-Noel was religiously devote and had visions and mortified her flesh, here we have a girl who has a funeral for a dead fish, a stuffed rabbit that says goodnight, and wants nothing more then to read Charlotte's Web, versus some saintly tract. Ugh, please. This isn't Du Maurier, this is Enid Blyton.

Each character is slowly stripped of what made them unique and interesting till we have these stock characters that could work in any story. The grey areas are gone. Neither John is a saint or a sinner in Du Maurier's eyes, yet this adaptation clearly wants to view the true John Spence the devil of imagination. He has nothing redeeming about himself, nothing worthwhile, he is pure evil. He beats his mistress, he tries to murder his wife, he takes his doppelganger out to the wood shed... he is a stock villain. In Du Maurier's world nothing is this simple, nothing is black and white. Nothing in this adaptation rings true the deeper you dig. Life isn't this simple and that's why Du Maurier's work endures, because it shows us all aspects of humanity, whereas this adaptation is less then a two hour diversion you will soon forget.

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: British, Charlotte's Web, Daphne Du Maurier, Diamond Jubilee, Doppleganger, Du Maurier December, England, Enid Blyton, France, George VI, Queen Elizabeth, The Scapegoat

The American Heiress by Daisy Goodwin
Published by: St. Martin's Press
Publication Date: August 1st, 2010
Format: Hardcover, 468 Pages
Rating: ★★★★
To Buy

Cora Cash is the wealthiest heiress that Newport, New York, and possibly the world has ever seen. Not even the son of that historic family, the Van Der Leydens, is good enough for Cora, or so her mother keeps telling her. Mrs. Cash wants her daughter to rise up above the title the Americans have given her, the Golden Miller's Granddaughter. Mrs. Cash wants what only their new money can get overseas, a "new" title, and the prestige that comes with it. Taking Cora and her horses to England on the family's ship the SS Aspen, she is soon nestled in the bosom of the English Aristocracy. Her rumored equestrian skills secure her an invite to the home of Lord Bridport, Sutton Veney, where he is master of the famous Myddleton Hunt. The day of the hunt will change Cora's life forever. Her seat on her horse is impeccable, several people even comment that she could be mistaken for being English. Yet separated from the pack she falls off her horse in a copse of trees and is rescued by a young man.

The young man happens to be Ivo, the Duke of Wareham, whose estate, Lulworth, Cora happened to stumble into. Ivo has been shut away from the world since the passing of both his father and elder brother and the remarriage of his mother, making her a double duchess. Cora's mother couldn't have arranged a more felicitous meeting had she spent months plotting and scheming. The Duke is in desperate need of money, which her daughter Cora will be glad to give him in exchange for his hand. To Cora's mother it's all a business transaction, but to Cora, it's surprisingly an affair of the heart, which she realizes when Ivo proposes and she accepts out of love. But dreaming of being a Duchess and the reality are two separate things. The English way of life bears little resemblance to the life she has known. Secret codes of conduct, drafty houses, servants gossiping, Cora didn't know that this is what she was getting into. Add to that Ivo's ex, Charlotte Beauchamp. Charlotte seems to think of taking Cora down a peg in Ivo's eyes as her new favorite game. Can Cora figure out this new world she's thrust herself into, or will she do a flit.

The American Heiress isn't the most deep or philosophical of stories. The plot is pretty predictable, but somehow, the way the story is told and the ease of the storytelling rise it above the mundane and run of the mill and make it a wonderful read that I wanted to devour in one sitting. What makes the book so refreshing is that the story clips along at a great pace. We are never bogged down within the mire of effusive detail or unnecessary information, excepting the end house party which needed a little temporal help. Cora has her coming out ball and then the next chapter she's getting ready for her first hunt in England. Other authors might have documented the entire journey across the Atlantic and Cora's daily routine of walking her horses on the steamship, but thankfully not Daisy Goodwin. We also get the story from multiple characters, from Cora, then from her black ladies maid Bertha, occasionally Cora's mother, add to these multiple viewpoints from characters that aren't even integral parts of the narrative, insignificant characters like the millinery girl who helped Cora once and is now our conduit for Cora's wedding, from outside the church on a street in New York City, and there's a spark to the book that I can't really describe. Perhaps it is because we have more in common with that girl on the street corner and therefore connect with her voyeuristic interest in the story, but for whatever reason you want to give, it just seriously makes this book work.

As for Cora, the buccaneer who actually fell in love, it's almost like this is the promised Downton Abbey prequel, her name is even Cora!  You connect to Cora despite her being everything you're not and a little spoiled to boot. In my mind she's more then a little like Blair Waldorf from Gossip Girl. You like her but you're not quite sure why. I was actually worried about her parties and hoping she wouldn't make a mistake or social faux pas and therefore show herself to be a gauche American. She tries so hard to fit and fails or stumbles time and time again I just wanted her to be picked up by Ivo and cherished. And on the downstairs side of the narrative, we have Bertha. Bertha is also like Cora in that she is not fully likable. She takes care of her spoiled mistress, but all the while looking out for her own future with thinking of the resale value of clothes and gloves, or how she can parlay an accidental windfall to her advantage. She's a schemer, but also devoutly loyal. By these two main characters having such diametrically apposing characteristics they become more human, more real, because people don't make sense in reality.

Yet beneath all these trappings of wealth and luxury, Daisy Goodwin is bringing up serious subjects within the confines of an upstairs, downstairs narrative. There is the most obvious, the us versus them mentality that comes between servants and masters, but there is also the us versus them of American versus English, black versus white. Poor Bertha is an outcast in many senses, being black, American, and a servant, she really doesn't fit in anywhere, and therefore those misanthropes among the readers, me included, connect to her plight. But there's also how different Cora and Ivo are. Ivo can not handle the celebrity of wealth that is second nature to Cora growing up in the states, while Cora can't grasp Ivo's reserve or his shame at how she will willingly thrown money at a situation. It's these opposing dynamics that make the book so much more then a love story. And in the end, was it really a love story? The ending was a little too open for my liking...

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: Blair Waldorf, Cora Cash, Daisy Goodwin, Double Duchess, Downton Abbey, Downton Denial, Duchess, Duke, England, Gossip Girl, House of Ware, The American Heiress, Upstairs Downstairs

The American Heiress by Daisy Goodwin
Published by: St. Martin's Press
Publication Date: August 1st, 2010
Format: Hardcover, 468 Pages
Rating: ★★★★
To Buy

Cora Cash is the wealthiest heiress that Newport, New York, and possibly the world has ever seen. Not even the son of that historic family, the Van Der Leydens, is good enough for Cora, or so her mother keeps telling her. Mrs. Cash wants her daughter to rise up above the title the Americans have given her, the Golden Miller's Granddaughter. Mrs. Cash wants what only their new money can get overseas, a "new" title, and the prestige that comes with it. Taking Cora and her horses to England on the family's ship the SS Aspen, she is soon nestled in the bosom of the English Aristocracy. Her rumored equestrian skills secure her an invite to the home of Lord Bridport, Sutton Veney, where he is master of the famous Myddleton Hunt. The day of the hunt will change Cora's life forever. Her seat on her horse is impeccable, several people even comment that she could be mistaken for being English. Yet separated from the pack she falls off her horse in a copse of trees and is rescued by a young man.

The young man happens to be Ivo, the Duke of Wareham, whose estate, Lulworth, Cora happened to stumble into. Ivo has been shut away from the world since the passing of both his father and elder brother and the remarriage of his mother, making her a double duchess. Cora's mother couldn't have arranged a more felicitous meeting had she spent months plotting and scheming. The Duke is in desperate need of money, which her daughter Cora will be glad to give him in exchange for his hand. To Cora's mother it's all a business transaction, but to Cora, it's surprisingly an affair of the heart, which she realizes when Ivo proposes and she accepts out of love. But dreaming of being a Duchess and the reality are two separate things. The English way of life bears little resemblance to the life she has known. Secret codes of conduct, drafty houses, servants gossiping, Cora didn't know that this is what she was getting into. Add to that Ivo's ex, Charlotte Beauchamp. Charlotte seems to think of taking Cora down a peg in Ivo's eyes as her new favorite game. Can Cora figure out this new world she's thrust herself into, or will she do a flit.

The American Heiress isn't the most deep or philosophical of stories. The plot is pretty predictable, but somehow, the way the story is told and the ease of the storytelling rise it above the mundane and run of the mill and make it a wonderful read that I wanted to devour in one sitting. What makes the book so refreshing is that the story clips along at a great pace. We are never bogged down within the mire of effusive detail or unnecessary information, excepting the end house party which needed a little temporal help. Cora has her coming out ball and then the next chapter she's getting ready for her first hunt in England. Other authors might have documented the entire journey across the Atlantic and Cora's daily routine of walking her horses on the steamship, but thankfully not Daisy Goodwin. We also get the story from multiple characters, from Cora, then from her black ladies maid Bertha, occasionally Cora's mother, add to these multiple viewpoints from characters that aren't even integral parts of the narrative, insignificant characters like the millinery girl who helped Cora once and is now our conduit for Cora's wedding, from outside the church on a street in New York City, and there's a spark to the book that I can't really describe. Perhaps it is because we have more in common with that girl on the street corner and therefore connect with her voyeuristic interest in the story, but for whatever reason you want to give, it just seriously makes this book work.

As for Cora, the buccaneer who actually fell in love, it's almost like this is the promised Downton Abbey prequel, her name is even Cora!  You connect to Cora despite her being everything you're not and a little spoiled to boot. In my mind she's more then a little like Blair Waldorf from Gossip Girl. You like her but you're not quite sure why. I was actually worried about her parties and hoping she wouldn't make a mistake or social faux pas and therefore show herself to be a gauche American. She tries so hard to fit and fails or stumbles time and time again I just wanted her to be picked up by Ivo and cherished. And on the downstairs side of the narrative, we have Bertha. Bertha is also like Cora in that she is not fully likable. She takes care of her spoiled mistress, but all the while looking out for her own future with thinking of the resale value of clothes and gloves, or how she can parlay an accidental windfall to her advantage. She's a schemer, but also devoutly loyal. By these two main characters having such diametrically apposing characteristics they become more human, more real, because people don't make sense in reality.

Yet beneath all these trappings of wealth and luxury, Daisy Goodwin is bringing up serious subjects within the confines of an upstairs, downstairs narrative. There is the most obvious, the us versus them mentality that comes between servants and masters, but there is also the us versus them of American versus English, black versus white. Poor Bertha is an outcast in many senses, being black, American, and a servant, she really doesn't fit in anywhere, and therefore those misanthropes among the readers, me included, connect to her plight. But there's also how different Cora and Ivo are. Ivo can not handle the celebrity of wealth that is second nature to Cora growing up in the states, while Cora can't grasp Ivo's reserve or his shame at how she will willingly thrown money at a situation. It's these opposing dynamics that make the book so much more then a love story. And in the end, was it really a love story? The ending was a little too open for my liking...

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: Blair Waldorf, Cora Cash, Daisy Goodwin, Double Duchess, Downton Abbey, Downton Denial, Duchess, Duke, England, Gossip Girl, House of Ware, The American Heiress, Upstairs Downstairs

Letter from New York: BBC Woman's Hour Broadcasts by Helene Hanff
Published by: Moyer Bell
Publication Date: 1992
Format: Hardcover, 140 Pages
Rating: ★★★★★
Out of Print

For six years Helene Hanff appeared on the BBC Woman's Hour in England. Once a month she recorded a five minute piece on her life in New York for the radio show for a country in her thrall ever since 84, Charing Cross Road. Written in a very conversational style to emulate the stories she'd tell her friends, the spot, which was to last six months, lasted far longer. This delightful collection compiles all extant copies she had and presents them in one wonderful book. Helene Hanff and I are polar opposites, in fact, I have a feeling that, were I to know her, I wouldn't much like her. But there's something about her writing style and her frank and humorous observances that I find totally compelling and a compulsive read. From the detailed lives of the dogs living in her building to her complicated cooking routines for the holidays, a rare feat for those living in studio apartments who need to rely on their neighbors counter tops as well as their own. I couldn't get enough and was saddened when it came to an end, of course I'm going to be even more dejected when I have to return this book to the library. Helene Hanff is the quintessential New Yorker, she loves everything her town has to offer, from the Park to the parades and she is able to convey this to her readers with such an easy air you feel like you're reading about a dear friend. If you ever see this book pick it up (I would then say, pass it along to me, but I have a feeling you will not want to part with it.)

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: 84 Charing Cross Road, BBC Woman's Hour, England, Helene Hanff, Letter from New York, Letter from New York: BBC Woman's Hour Broadcasts, New York, Radio

Theodosia and the Staff of Osiris by R. L. LaFevers
Published by: Houghton Mifflin
Publication Date: November 10th, 2008
Format: Hardcover, 400 Pages
Rating: ★★★★★
To Buy

So what did Theodosia really expect? She single handedly saves England by returning the heart of Egypt and in return her parts let her clean out the catacombs at the museum. In all fairness, they aren't "technically" catacombs, but they're creepy, dank, dusty, full of mummies and worst of all, dark magic Theo can't even begin to speculate on. She did at least get to attend a gala event due to her discovery of the hidden annex in the tomb of Amenemhab, of course she rather embarrassingly pointed out, in front of all and sundry, that the mummy that was the focal point of the evening was actually the missing miscreant from the British Museum, Tetley, last seen in Amenemhab's tomb. But the mundanties of daily life soon resume their pace, cataloging mummies and shabtis, avoiding Grandmother and her plethora of new governesses (where does she find them all), her parents hiring yet another slimy curator, Weems, and just the basic stopping of evil powers rising up out of the museum's artifacts. But all this doesn't really matter once Theo finds an interesting staff and a golden orb which leads to a jackal statue coming to life and all the mummies in London disappearing and mysteriously congregating at the Museum of Legends and Antiquities.

With her father being the center of the police investigation, because there really is no sensible explanation for all the mummies, how can Theo concentrate on learning from the horrid governess of the day (she's a pincher)? She must find out what is going on. She will need the help of her friends, The Chosen Keepers. But do the mummies have a connection to The Serpents of Chaos? And how can corpses that are almost dust help a group hell bent on world chaos? And who are these Black Sunners? Because the one thing Theo doesn't need is even more secret societies getting underfoot. And Will is acting cagey, and there's a mysterious man in death weeds who's shadowing Will. But at the center of this all is the might of the British Empire, a mighty boat... I mean ship, which proudly tells the world that England is great. But with a war looming ever closer... how long will that might last?

Building on the wonderful story of the first book, the second in the Theodosia series brings in even more Egyptian mythology while layering hilarious exploits of several secret societies with the more day to day trials and tribulations of a girl just trying to save England but being belaboured with an interfering Grandmother hell bent on her granddaughter becoming a lady, no matter what the cost or the final tally of governesses hired. While in the beginning we saw a more solitary Theo, she is slowly gathering more allies in the fight against evil. Of course the fight is having increasingly greater stakes. No longer is it just a restless soul trapped in a rope that brings about boils, but the fate of England and the world. And with greater allies come greater enemies. She is starting to get a list of men who would like nothing more then to see her dead. These men almost seem easier to deal with then those who would worship her as the goddess Isis... but nothing can ever go right. But what I find interesting is the expansion and inclusion of Egyptian history and myth. The idea of Gods walking the earth and leaving behind items of great power... scary to think what might happen if these were in the wrong hands... and I can't help feeling that with The Great War about to start, some things might just end up in the hands of Chaos.

I just can't get enough of this series. It brings back the feeling of what it's like to be a kid and read the perfect book and be totally absorbed in that world. To think about it long after you've shut the pages. To dwell on what might happen next and to hope for the next book as soon as possible. There is a magical quality to Theo, much like the feeling of watching Raiders of the Lost Ark when you were young. It's something different, wonderful and being played out right in front of your eyes and you feel like it's written just for you. A glittering world open for your exploration. I hope you pick up this series and get to have that connection that one longs for with a book.

Also make sure to enter my giveaway for an ARC of the 3rd book in the series, Theodosia and the Eyes of Horus, thanks to Houghton Mifflin!

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 2 comments  

Labels: Amenemhab, Black Sunners, Egypt, England, Gods, Governesses, Mummies, Raiders of the Lost Ark, Serpents of Chaos, The Chosen Keepers, Theodoisa and the Staff of Osiris, Theodosia Throckmorton

The Duchess of Bloomsbury Street by Helene Hanff
Published by: Lippincott
Publication Date: 1973
Format: Hardcover, 137 Pages
Rating: ★★★★★
Out of Print

The Duchess of Bloomsbury Street is Helene Hanff's followup to the popular 84, Charing Cross Road. This book though is not a continuation or a building on of the twenty years of correspondences between Helene and Marks & Co. but a look into what the writing of 84, Charing Cross Road brought to Helene's life. Due to the popularity of the book, Helene, while not becoming exceedingly famous or wealthy, developed a sort of cult following which enabled her to go to England to promote her book. Her long dreamed of sojourn to England was made possible by this little book and in return we are blessed with another, her diary of the trip. The Duchess of Bloomsbury Street, the title Helene bequeaths to herself, is just as sweet and engaging as the original, but with a little more structure due to the day by day progression without long periods of time missing, which so annoyed me in 84, Charing Cross Road. We follow Helene's journey across the ocean to a world populated by people who's lives were touched by her book. From Frank Doel's widow and daughter, to a Colonel, to a portrait painter, to a famous actress, to an old Etonian, all these people populate her time in England, from sightseeing to dinners (because the fewer dinners she has to pay for herself, the longer she can stay in England.)

After the publication of 84, Charing Cross Road Helene was literally besieged by people saying she must go to England now. But in the book you had sense of hesitation on Helene's part. Whether it was just her fear of travel or the country not living up to her expectations she kept putting off the trip, and at the end of the book you felt that perhaps she had waited too long, ending on a bittersweet note. But Duchess is not in the least bittersweet, euphoric would be the word Helene would use. She realizes, that while people keep telling her that she's about 15 years too late, she isn't. There is still Donne's St. Paul's, Shakepeare's local ale house, even Dicken's London (even if she isn't really a fan). Everything is as she had pictured it in the books she had read. And while she regrets not being as well read as others, being a re-reader to the point of memorization, she would not change it because of the words that flow into her as she enters St. Paul's from Walton's Lives. Having "the whole lovely passage right there in my head" and "for at least that moment, I wouldn't have traded the hundreds of books I've never read for the handful I know almost by heart."

Despite being a middle aged women having just undergone a hysterectomy, she is like a kid in a candy store. Everything is perfect and just as she always wished it to be. Her dreams were literally coming true and you have a desperate urge to just take her book and get on the next plane to see if thirty years later it is the same as when she left. From Russell Square to Hyde Park, Helene revels in her one shot of glory that has enabled her to live her dream. Even if, at times, she does seem a bit of a leech. Whatever she can get out of others in order to stay a day longer she accepts, mainly in the form of food. Of course England seems enamored of her as well as she of it, and they view her presence as enough, either at book signings or on the radio. When Helene runs into an old friend who is as baffled as she is as to England's love of her, she has a strong desire to tell her that the fairy tale will soon be over and Cinderella will go home, to the old jeans and gin while typing away at her 2nd Avenue apartment.

In the end the book is almost like a dream of England come to life, as Helene remarks on the plane, "suddenly it was as if everything had vanished: Bloomsbury and Regent's Park and Russell Square and Rutland Gate. None of it had happened, none of it was real. Even the people weren't real. It was all imagined, they were all phantoms." But even if Helene could not believe her good fortune, you will enjoy reading her exploits, even if they seemed improbable to the author they are a wonderful dream you hope you won't wake from. The book ends appropriately with a quote from Shakespeare's The Tempest:

Our revels now are ended. These our actors
....were all spirits and
Are melted into air, into thin air...
The Cloud-capped towers, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples...dissolve
And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff
As dreams are made on...

Posted by Miss Eliza at 2:09 AM 4 comments  

Labels: 84 Charing Cross Road, Book Review, Charles Dickens, Cinderella, England, Frank Doel, Helene Hanff, Shakespeare, The Tempest