My Commonplace Book: June 2018

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A selection of words and pictures to represent June’s reading:

commonplace book
noun
a book into which notable extracts from other works are copied for personal use.

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Charlie asked a lot of questions, and if Henry couldn’t answer them, he bought a book which he read quickly and Charlie read slowly. Henry didn’t seem at all surprised by this overwhelming plenitude of objects to look at or ideas to think about, but Charlie was. It seemed to him that he had spent thirty years circling neighborhoods and buildings without even wondering what was inside. And each building was a Fabergé egg, pleasant on the outside, a treasure trove within. Henry said, “Books are like that, too.”

Golden Age by Jane Smiley (2015)

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They had talked of it, planned it, and now here I was, to be informed. What would be the simplest way to curb a woman whose loyalties were suspect? For centuries, how had women of influence been robbed of their freedom?

“I have planned a marriage for you,” he said, fists on the arms of his chair to take his weight as he pushed himself to his feet.

Queen of the North by Anne O’Brien (2018)

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Royal Pavilion, Brighton

Everything about Brighton pleased him: the fine streets and squares and well-planned gardens, the bow-fronted emporia and the libraries, the chop-houses, the coffee shops, the Assembly Rooms at the Castle Inn and countless other places of refreshment and entertainment, all set about that grand arena of elegant promenade, the Steine. As he turned to follow the Steine he looked across at the exotic Marine Pavilion, the King’s seaside palace, which had been that royal gentleman’s favourite residence during his days as Prince of Wales and later as Prince Regent. With its opal-tinted minarets and bulbous domes glinting with gold in the sun it had the appearance of an enormous, many-faceted Arabian Nights’ jewel set down glorious and incongruously within sight and sound of the English Channel.

Warwyck’s Wife by Rosalind Laker (1978)

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Say good-night to Vicky, looking angelic in bed, and ask what she is thinking about, lying there. She disconcertingly replies with briskness: “Oh, Kangaroos and things.”

(Note: The workings of the infant mind very, very difficult to follow, sometimes. Mothers by no means infallible.)

Diary of a Provincial Lady by E M Delafield (1930)

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“Very well, then. I want it understood that I’m a full third partner in this enterprise, and intend to remain so. I’m not to be put in a corner and disregarded because I am a woman. My uncle picked a good crew for this voyage; if you gentlemen think you can run away with this ship or go pirating, you’ll discover otherwise.”

The Big Book of Swashbuckling Adventure, ed. Lawrence Ellsworth (2014)

~

Helmeted Amazon with her sword and shield, 510-500 BC

‘To be an Amazon,’ she had said, striding ahead, her boots crunching a path for me, ‘is to fight, whether man or woman, virgin or mother. You are destined to become a queen, so the fight to protect your people will be both your calling and your duty, and nothing, no man, no marriage, no child, shall come before it.’

For the Immortal by Emily Hauser (2018)

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‘Strawberry blonde!’ his voice boomed.

There had been a field of strawberries on their fruit farm, Cecily remembered. But as much as she searched, she never found a blonde one.

‘Real life,’ her mother Agnes had remarked, ‘is persistently disappointing’.

Real life, then, was like a field of red strawberries.

The Last Pier by Roma Tearne (2015)

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Frances Howard, Countess of Somerset

Frances simplifies it, saying, ‘Imagine the King is a lit candle. The closer you stand the more light you have. But too close and you’re burned. My great-uncle wanted power more than anything, you see.’

The Poison Bed by EC Fremantle (2018)

~

Favourite books read in June:

Queen of the North and The Last Pier

Where did my reading take me in June?

USA, England, Ancient Greece, France, Italy

Authors read for the first time in June:

EM Delafield
H Bedford-Jones, Sidney Levett-Yeats, Jeffery Farnol, Johnston McCulley, Pierce Egan, John Bloundelle-Burton, Harold Lamb, Stanley J Weyman, Marion Polk Angellotti (all in The Big Book of Swashbuckling Adventure)

~

Have you read any of these books? Which books did you enjoy in June?

The Illumination of Ursula Flight by Anna-Marie Crowhurst

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Yet another new historical fiction novel with a colourful, eye-catching cover! This one looks like an illuminated manuscript, which is quite appropriate, not just because of the title but also because our heroine, Ursula Flight, has a deep love of books, language and the written word.

Ursula is born in December 1664, on the same night that a great comet appears in the sky. It is believed to be an ill omen, bringing with it bad luck and disaster, but for Ursula’s father this is a time to rejoice and to thank God for the safe delivery of his daughter. As Ursula grows into an intelligent and curious young woman, he decides to educate her himself, sharing with her his knowledge of astronomy, Latin and Greek, mathematics, science and literature. At the age of fifteen, however, everything changes: Ursula is married off to the wealthy Lord Tyringham, who is much older and who has different ideas of how a woman should behave.

It is not a happy, loving marriage, but Ursula is able to find solace in her writing – or her scribbling, as her friends call it – and this provides a way for her to express herself and to cope with the difficulties she encounters in her new life. There is nothing she wants more than to write plays and see them performed on stage but, despite her talent and enthusiasm, Ursula will find that this is still very much a man’s world.

Things do not always go smoothly for Ursula and she faces a series of challenges, obstacles, trials and disappointments both in her personal life and in her attempts to establish a career for herself. Told in a different way, it could have been a rather depressing story, but Ursula’s narrative voice is so strong and warm and witty that the novel never becomes too dark. Her sparkling personality suits the lively writing style and the imaginative format of the book.

I am not always a fan of novels that are written in an unusual or unconventional way, but I could still admire the playfulness and creativity of Ursula Flight. Chapters are given titles like In which I am born under inauspicious circumstances and In which I assert my independence at three years old, while Ursula’s narrative is interspersed with other examples of her writing: letters and lists, diary entries, personal notes to herself, definitions of words and even whole scenes from some of her plays. These all provide us with valuable insights into her state of mind or way of life, while also being quite funny at times; I expect Ursula found that writing about certain episodes of her life in this way made it easier to deal with them.

The Illumination of Ursula Flight is an entertaining read; it’s maybe a little bit lighter than I would have preferred, but it’s fun and different. I would probably recommend it to people who have enjoyed books like Dark Aemilia, The Mermaid and Mrs Hancock and Restoration.

Thanks to Atlantic Books for providing a copy of this book for review via NetGalley.

A Distant Mirror: The Calamitous 14th Century by Barbara W Tuchman

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I tend not to read non-fiction very often, but Barbara W Tuchman’s 1978 history of the 14th century, A Distant Mirror, is one I’ve been intending to read for years. It looked like such a long book, and I’d heard that it was also a very detailed one, so I knew I would need to pick the right time to read it – and that time came at the beginning of April this year. It took me all of that month to read it, but I actually found it a much easier read than I’d expected, due partly to the style of Tuchman’s writing and partly, of course, to the 14th century being so fascinating!

I couldn’t possibly list everything that this book covers, but here are some of the topics it explores: the Hundred Years’ War, the conflict between England and France usually dated as beginning in 1337 and ending in 1453 and including the Battles of Crecy and Poitiers; the Black Death which ravaged Europe and then reared its head again and again throughout the rest of the century; the Papal Schism which resulted in a split within the Catholic Church; and the Peasants’ Revolt in England and the similar uprising, the Jacquerie, which occurred in France. A lot of destruction, disaster and devastation, but the book is subtitled The Calamitous 14th Century, after all, and – as Tuchman points out – it tends to be the negative rather than the positive which survives in historical records. It is not really necessary to have any prior knowledge of any of these things before you begin, as Tuchman does take the reader through everything you need to know and more.

In an attempt to pull all of these different threads together, Tuchman uses the life of a French nobleman, Enguerrand de Coucy, as a central point of focus. There are a few reasons for her choice of this particular historical figure: not only did he live through most of the major events of the 14th century (being born in 1340 and dying in 1397), but his noble status means that he appears in historical records and sources, and as the husband of Isabella, daughter of Edward III of England, he had close connections with both the English and the French. When I first started reading, I really liked the idea of seeing the century from one man’s perspective, but actually this aspect of the book wasn’t as successful as I’d hoped. There are whole chapters where Enguerrand is barely mentioned, and others where I felt that too much attention was given to him and his actions when other people or incidents might have been more interesting.

Of course, as well as Enguerrand de Coucy, we do hear about lots of other historical figures of the period – such as Charles the Bad of Navarre, whose horrific-sounding death sticks in the mind! I enjoyed reading about some of the notable women of the time, including the poet Christine de Pisan; Marcia Ordelaffi, left to defend the city of Cesena in her husband’s absence; and in particular, Jeanne de Montfort (Joanna of Flanders), who also proved herself more than capable in moments of crisis:

When Charles de Blois besieged Hennebont, she led a heroic defence in full armour astride a war-horse in the streets, exhorting the soldiers under a hail of arrows and ordering women to cut short their skirts and carry stones and pots of boiling pitch to the walls to cast down upon the enemy. During a lull she led a party of knights out a secret gate and galloped a roundabout way to take the enemy camp in the rear, destroyed half their force and defeated the siege.

War is, understandably, a major theme of the book, as is religion, but Tuchman also covers almost every other aspect of 14th century life you can think of, from food, clothing and housing to music, literature and entertainment. She often goes off on a tangent, for example starting with a description of a visit by the Holy Roman Emperor to the French court then digressing to talking about miracle plays and how they were performed. There are interesting discussions of medieval artwork and why there were so few pictures of children, of the decline of chivalry and the changing role of the knight, and all sorts of odd snippets of information – did you know that during one of France’s failed attempts to invade England they tried to transport an entire portable wooden town across the sea to house the invaders in when they landed?

The book’s title, A Distant Mirror, suggests the mirroring of 14th century events by more recent ones, and Tuchman does draw some parallels with her own century, the 20th, particularly with reference to the two World Wars:

For belligerent purposes, the 14th century, like the 20th, commanded a technology more sophisticated than the mental and moral capacity that guided its use.

She also compares World War I and its effect on society with the devastation caused throughout medieval Europe by the plague:

An event of great agony is bearable only in the belief that it will bring about a better world. When it does not, as in the aftermath of another vast calamity in 1914-18, disillusion is deep and moves on to self-doubt and self-disgust.

However, I’m sure links and similarities could be found between any two periods in history if you looked for them, so I would have liked more specific examples and analysis of why the author considered the 14th century in particular to be ‘a distant mirror’.

I know this sort of long, detailed, in-depth account is not for everyone, especially if you’re not as interested in medieval history as I am, but I enjoyed it and felt that I got a lot out of it. If anyone else has read this book, I would love to know what you thought.

For the Immortal by Emily Hauser

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This is the third book in Emily Hauser’s Golden Apple trilogy, which gives a voice to some of the women from Greek mythology. The three books are connected but also work as standalone stories so it is not essential to read them in order. Having enjoyed the first two novels, For the Most Beautiful (the story of Briseis and Krisayis during the Trojan War) and For the Winner (about Atalanta, who joined Jason and the Argonauts on their quest for the Golden Fleece), I was pleased to be offered the chance to take part in the blog tour for the third and final novel, For the Immortal.

At the beginning of the novel, we learn that Alexander, the heir of the King of Tiryns, is dying. His sister, Admete, has some knowledge of healing, but her skills alone are not enough to save Alexander; the only possible cure will be found far away in the Garden of the Hesperides. And so Admete persuades her father to let her accompany her friend Alcides on his upcoming journey to the land of the Amazons, where he has been given the task of obtaining the belt of the Amazon queen, Hippolyta – one of twelve labours he must complete if he is to achieve his goal of becoming immortal. Admete hopes that the Amazons will be able to help her find the cure – the golden apple – that she seeks, but she also has another reason of her own for wanting to meet this legendary tribe of female warriors.

For the Immortal is written from the perspectives of both Admete and Hippolyta, alternating between the two. They initially seem like unrelated stories, but after a while they begin to come together very effectively. The two women are very different people, with different backgrounds and ways of life, but they encounter similar obstacles and attitudes as they each try to succeed in a world very much dominated by men. At first I was slightly disappointed by the negative portrayal of the male characters who are central to the novel, but looking back I think it made sense in the context of the story.

As with the first two books in the trilogy, we also spend some time with the gods as they look down on the mortal world, observing, interfering or trying to help, depending on the outcome they are hoping for. I loved this aspect of the book; the conversations between the gods gave me a lot to think about regarding the differences between fate and personal choice, and what it truly means to be immortal.

The novel combines elements of several myths: the Labours of Hercules (you will have guessed that Alcides is another name for Hercules); the story of Hippolyta, Queen of the Amazons; and the adventures of Theseus, who joins Hercules on his voyage. I was fascinated by Emily Hauser’s notes at the end of the book where she explains the choices she made in deciding which myths and characters to include and how to interpret them – I was particularly interested in what she had to say about Hippolyta and her two sisters. Although I only have quite a basic knowledge of Greek mythology, I’m finding that one of the most intriguing things about it is that there are so many different versions of the myths that no two authors or historians will interpret them in exactly the same way.

I really enjoyed this book; it brings the trilogy to a satisfying close and, although I’ve said that you can certainly read it without having read the first two books, I do recommend reading all three. I think my favourite was the middle one, For the Winner, but I liked them all.

You can find out more about this book by visiting the other stops on the blog tour. Here is the schedule:

Thanks to Transworld for providing a copy of this book for review via NetGalley and for arranging the tour.

This is also book 1/20 from my 20 Books of Summer list.

House of Gold by Natasha Solomons

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It’s been a long time since I read my first Natasha Solomons book, The Novel in the Viola. Although I enjoyed it, for some inexplicable reason I had never really thought about reading any of her other books until I spotted her new one, House of Gold, which was published in the UK last month. I think it was the simple, elegant cover that caught my attention, at a time when covers in general are becoming increasingly intricate and brightly coloured, but the story sounded appealing too…and it was. I loved it.

House of Gold tells the story of a fictional banking family, the Goldbaums, who are loosely based on the real-life Rothschilds. When we first meet the family in 1911, they are fabulously wealthy and hugely influential, with branches in five European capital cities. In a move intended to strengthen the ties between the Austrian and the British branches, a marriage has been arranged between Greta Goldbaum and her cousin Albert. This is nothing new – Greta has grown up with the knowledge that “the Goldbaum men were bankers, while the Goldbaum women married Goldbaum men and produced Goldbaum children”, but she has no desire to marry Albert and is sure they won’t be compatible. Of course, the wedding must go ahead anyway and Greta is forced to leave her parents’ home in Vienna to start a new life as a married woman in England.

The relationship between Greta and Albert is at the heart of the novel and I enjoyed watching them get to know each other, trying each in their own way to make their marriage work but not always succeeding. It’s not always easy, especially not for Greta, but even when things are at their worst she finds some fulfilment in transforming the gardens of Temple Court, the British Goldbaums’ estate in Hampshire, and as a result of taking on new responsibilities and developing new interests, she is able to grow as a person.

There is much more to the novel than this, though. Within a few short years of Greta’s marriage to Albert, the First World War begins, bringing with it new challenges, new difficulties but also new opportunities. With European governments desperate for money to fund their war efforts, the services of the Goldbaums are as much in demand as ever, but as a Jewish family they find that their position is no longer as secure as it has been in the past. For Greta, there is the additional problem of being stuck in the middle, with different branches of her family on opposite sides of the conflict.

Natasha Solomons takes us right to the centre of the action, with characters such as Greta’s beloved brother Otto and her French cousin Henri becoming directly caught up in the war that is tearing Europe apart. We also learn a lot about the role of money in war; to quote Otto, “Money has no passport and every passport…it has little respect for borders. Money, like water, finds a way.”

There’s so much going on in this novel…so many characters to meet and so many interesting stories to follow. Maybe that’s why, after being completely gripped by the lives and adventures of the Goldbaums, I was slightly disappointed by the unexpectedly abrupt ending and by subplots which seemed to lack a proper resolution. I hope that means Natasha Solomons might be planning a sequel. It would certainly be possible, but if not I will just have to go back and read her earlier novels. I have Mr Rosenblum’s List, The Gallery of Vanished Husbands and The Song Collector to choose from.

After the Sunday Papers #17

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“She had read novels while other people perused the Sunday papers” ~ Mary Elizabeth Braddon, The Doctor’s Wife

With several pieces of bookish news to share with you today, I decided it was time to bring back, after a four year absence, my After the Sunday Papers posts, which were always very useful when I had a few book-related things to mention but didn’t need to devote a whole separate post to each of them. I’m not intending to make this a weekly feature again (not that it ever really was) but I will put a post together as and when I feel that I have something to talk about.

First of all, I want to congratulate author Benjamin Myers on winning this year’s Walter Scott Prize for Historical Fiction, which was awarded at the Borders Book Festival last night. As some of you will know, I am currently attempting to work my way through all of the shortlisted titles since 2010, so I have a particular interest in following this prize.

The six books on the 2018 shortlist were:

Jennifer Egan – Manhattan Beach
Jane Harris – Sugar Money [My review]
Paul Lynch – Grace
Patrick McGrath – The Wardrobe Mistress
Rachel Malik – Miss Boston and Miss Hargreaves
Benjamin Myers – The Gallows Pole

I haven’t read The Gallows Pole yet (in fact I haven’t made much progress at all with this year’s list, as you can see) but I’m looking forward to reading it and finding out why it impressed the judges so much.

This is what the book is about:

From his remote moorland home David Hartley assembles a gang of weavers and land workers to embark upon a criminal enterprise that will capsize the economy and become the biggest fraud in British history.They are the Cragg Vale Coiners and their business is clipping – the forging of coins, a treasonous offence punishable by death.

Have you read it? Do you think it is a deserving winner?

~

Last week also saw the launch of this year’s Reader Survey hosted by M.K. Tod, Heather Burch and Patricia Sands. This annual survey used to be specific to historical fiction, but this year it has been expanded to cover all genres. The results, when they are made available, are always interesting to see, so I definitely think it’s worth participating in this survey.

This is what the survey hosts have to say about it:

What do readers want? What constitutes a compelling story? How do men and women differ in their preferences? Where do readers find recommendations? How do readers share their book experiences?

ANNOUNCING A 2018 READER SURVEY designed to solicit input on these topics and others.

Please take the survey and share the link https://www.surveymonkey.com/r/68HL6F2 
with friends and family via email or your favourite social media. Robust participation across age groups, genders, and countries will make this year’s survey – the 4th – even more significant.

The Corinthian by Georgette Heyer

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When I posted my review of Friday’s Child a few weeks ago, I mentioned that I had a choice of three Heyer novels to read next and asked for some help in deciding which one to choose. The Corinthian received more recommendations than Faro’s Daughter and An Infamous Army so I knew it would have to be my next Heyer…and what a great choice it was! Published in 1940, it’s one of her earliest Regency novels and although I think she wrote better books, I did find this one thoroughly entertaining and fun to read.

Are you wondering what a Corinthian is? Well, it is defined in the dictionary as “a man about town, especially one who lives luxuriously or, sometimes, dissolutely”. The Corinthian of the title is Sir Richard Wyndham, a twenty-nine-year-old ‘Man of Fashion’ who, at the beginning of the novel, is under pressure from his mother and sister to marry the Honourable Melissa Brandon. Despite their insistence that she will make the ideal wife, Sir Richard knows that Melissa is only interested in his money – a thought which makes him so depressed he goes out and gets drunk (or ‘a trifle disguised’ as Heyer likes to call it).

On his way home, he looks up to see a young man attempting to descend from a window down a rope of knotted bed-sheets. Going to offer his assistance, Richard makes the discovery that the young man is actually a young woman: seventeen-year-old Penelope – or Pen – Creed. Like himself, Pen is being forced into a marriage not of her own choosing and has decided to escape by dressing as a boy and running away to the home of her childhood friend in Somerset. Because he is drunk and because it gives him an excuse to avoid Melissa, Richard finds himself volunteering to accompany her – but he is not prepared for the drama and adventure that awaits them on the journey!

I won’t say too much more about the plot, but you can expect a wonderful blend of comedy, action and mystery as Richard and Pen stumble from one farcical situation to another. Not only do they become entangled with jewel thieves, murderers and Bow Street Runners, they also have several encounters with various members of Pen’s family, as well as Melissa’s brother, the hilarious Cedric. As for Pen and Richard themselves, I found them both very likeable. Richard is sophisticated, bored and cynical, but also kind hearted, intelligent and competent, while Pen may be young and innocent but she’s not lacking in courage and is less silly than some of Heyer’s other very young heroines.

One of the great things about Heyer’s Regency novels is how fully they immerse us in the period. This one is no exception but it does have a different feel from the last Heyer Regency I read, Friday’s Child – that one was set mainly in London, in a whirlwind of masquerade balls, high-stakes card games, visits to the theatre and evenings at Almack’s Assembly Rooms, but this one takes us out of the city, with a lot of time spent on the road travelling towards Somerset. I loved the descriptions of what it was like to undertake a long journey by public stagecoach and the various coaching inns Pen and Richard stayed at along the way.

Having enjoyed this book so much, I am now about to start Faro’s Daughter and hoping it’s going to be another good one!