Definitely not my favourite Heyer. It seemed to drag, even. Sir Waldo and Miss Trent are too good to be true; Lord Lindeth isn't far behind; Tiffany iDefinitely not my favourite Heyer. It seemed to drag, even. Sir Waldo and Miss Trent are too good to be true; Lord Lindeth isn't far behind; Tiffany is just too bad to be true! Perhaps over-familiarity with Heyer is breeding contempt, but mostly I think it's just that I found the conflict so manufactured -- one of my least favourite tropes ever: the mistaken meaning, for example -- and I found the various combinations of characters pretty insipid. Tiffany could've brought more life to it if she were just a little easier to sympathise with, but she's like all the worst parts of the impulsive heroines of Sprig Muslin, Charity Girl and, indeed, the secondary heroine in Lady of Quality, without their good sides.
In fact, listing all those makes me think regretfully of how similar Heyer novels can be to one another in some details. Perhaps it's time for a break. Alas. But then, this one didn't really make me laugh, or even raise a flutter, which is not a charge I can lay at the door of most of her novels....more
Lady of Quality has many of the same themes and character types as Heyer's other novels, just varied a bit. For the most part Heyer had a genius for tLady of Quality has many of the same themes and character types as Heyer's other novels, just varied a bit. For the most part Heyer had a genius for tweaking things just enough: this one is different (for example) to Sprig Muslin and Charity Girl in that it is a female protagonist who gets foolishly caught up in the tangles of an unchaperoned young girl, and the heroine has a lot of independence. Her hero is reasonably typical of her work, but I did like that despite his gruff ways and rude behaviour, he was very capable of understanding the heroine's feelings and giving her space to work them out.
I recognise a lot of this stuff from Heyer's other novels, though, which is a little sad. I hope I'm not coming to the end of my love affair with Heyer's work, with thirteen(ish?) novels left to go! But since I've read them in no particular order, that's not very likely -- and there is still something compelling about even the least of Heyer's work, from the silliest of her characters to the most rakish. ...more
Charity Girl definitely isn't the best Heyer novel I've read. It's rather along the lines of Sprig Muslin, just with slightly different detail. That rCharity Girl definitely isn't the best Heyer novel I've read. It's rather along the lines of Sprig Muslin, just with slightly different detail. That rather reduces its charms for me, having already read Sprig Muslin, and given that the heroines are either not particularly engaging, or we don't see enough of them.
I think I'd have enjoyed it more if I hadn't already read Sprig Muslin, but it's a mild one really by Heyer's standards. There're some amusing characters, but nothing laugh-out-loud, and there's not really any excitement either. I wouldn't read it for a first Heyer novel, definitely (go for The Talisman Ring, which I adore!), or even if you're only a casual fan.
It's well-written, of course, else I'd give it only two stars. I can't bear to do that with something by Heyer, though....more
I don't know how Georgette Heyer manages to send me into flutters with each new (to me) book of hers I read. This one kept me occupied with a murder mI don't know how Georgette Heyer manages to send me into flutters with each new (to me) book of hers I read. This one kept me occupied with a murder mystery as well, which I always like (though strange to say, I don't enjoy Heyer's non-Regency mysteries). It's an interesting set of characters, and an interesting choice of romance -- Heyer really wasn't locked in to any stereotypes of romance, but picked characters that were different enough in each book to avoid too much repetition. I love the ending, too, with Miss Morville's father arguing with the Countess!
This is a quieter sort of romance than in, say, The Grand Sophy. It isn't characterised by witty banter and point-scoring, but by a gentle understanding unfolding as background to a drama of characters. Characters who I came to love -- even the villain of the piece, though it doesn't help there that his motives seem a little thin....more
I'm on a spree when it comes to Heyer: I went by the library today and picked up five new-to-me Heyer novels. Happyfuntimes. I particularly needed somI'm on a spree when it comes to Heyer: I went by the library today and picked up five new-to-me Heyer novels. Happyfuntimes. I particularly needed something light yesterday, so Arabella was perfect. I'll confess I wasn't too impressed by the start, and there was a whiff of Pride and Prejudice-ness about it that put me off a bit, but both protagonists grew on me.
I had major embarrassment squick at first, with the silly trick Arabella pulls, but as the novel developed and her kindly nature became clearer, I was ready to forgive her -- and her silly mistake was, of course, pretty justified. I took an instant dislike to Robert Beaumaris, but his behaviour over Jemmy and especially Ulysses won me over. Some of the best giggly bits were Robert's 'conversations' with Ulysses.
In the end, having fallen for both protagonists, I was more than satisfied by the end. Especially because Robert doesn't quite melt into a puddle of goo! I'm a little disappointed Arabella doesn't convince him to do something about Leaky Peg, though... That would make for an amusing scene.
Why I ever disdained reading Georgette Heyer's work, I don't know....more
Hah! This isn't my favourite Georgette Heyer novel, but I think it might have made me laugh the most so far. God, what a cast of characters, and how rHah! This isn't my favourite Georgette Heyer novel, but I think it might have made me laugh the most so far. God, what a cast of characters, and how ridiculous they all are -- Sophy is fantastic, with her matchmaking and her provoking ways and her complete disregard for propriety. I loved the relationship between her and Charles -- the last few chapters made me positively hoot with laughter.
I'm sure that people who would never like this genre won't be convinced by this, but I think I'm being brought to get over my original feelings by Heyer's work. It's well written, well paced, and hilariously funny: Sophy's matchmaking rather pokes fun at the genre, I think: she seems to consider people's lives as though they're in a novel and figures out what they would/could do if they were fictional. I half-wanted her to carry everything off, and half-wanted everything to end in a magnificent tangle that would teach her a lesson.
As with Mary Stewart's work, I wrinkled my nose a little at the potential for cousin-marrying and all that sort of thing, but given the setting, it makes perfect sense....more
It’s been ages since I first read this, but I’ve been meaning to get round to rereading it for ages, and I’m glad I finally did. The world itself isn’It’s been ages since I first read this, but I’ve been meaning to get round to rereading it for ages, and I’m glad I finally did. The world itself isn’t particularly distinctive: wandering peoples, oppressive clans, magic which requires detachment from the world, royalty and court intrigue… but the characters are what make it shine for me. Chandra, Aaron and Darvish each have their faults, but together they make up a surprisingly strong team, compensating for each other’s faults — and not just easily or naturally, but by working at it and learning to rely on one another. Each has their own sadnesses and goals, and gradually they learn to come together and deal with it.
The relationship between Chandra and the other two is as important as their romantic relationship with each other; she’s not just a woman in the way of the guys getting together, as some people seem prone to viewing women in queer stories. Chandra is just as integral to their strength as either of the men.
I think the process of dealing with Darvish’s alcoholism is also well done. The reasons he drinks, and the reasons he stops; the way he tries to resist it and where he fails. All of it is sensitively done, to my mind, and felt real. Aaron’s struggle with his sexuality is one that is also, unfortunately, real; there’s plenty of people who’ll force themselves to stay in the closet because of fear of what society or particularly their families would say. And Chandra’s determination to remain independent, because attachment might blunt her powers — well, that feels real, too. (Think of the people who complain that a woman will be ‘distracted’ by having a partner and family…)
I enjoyed the book a lot, and it’s also nice that it’s a stand-alone. Not that I wouldn’t mind more of the trio’s adventures, but I feel that it’s unnecessary. The story is complete as a one and done. That’s kind of refreshing in a world of so. many. trilogies.
This book somewhat ran into one of the problems I have with fiction that includes humour: I’m bad at being embarrassed, and get second-hand embarrassmThis book somewhat ran into one of the problems I have with fiction that includes humour: I’m bad at being embarrassed, and get second-hand embarrassment for characters I like. There’s obviously a lot of scope for embarrassment in a book which features twin protagonists who pretend to be one another, and the muddle they get themselves into when they do this as adults in order to cover for each other. Or, really, Kit covers for his brother who is mostly absent, and really doesn’t deserve such devotion.
It’s generally charming, particularly the bond between Kit and his mother. She’s hopeless, but loveable as well, and while I’m not quite sure how anyone could put up with her from a distance, far too able to see her flaws, I’m sure that in person she would be completely charming. The romance is so-so; this is one of the books where I rather wish there’d been more attention paid to the romantic heroine (though plenty of attention is paid to Kit’s mother, which balances that). There were also some cringy lines that read unpleasantly for the modern reader, but there’s also a lot of fun — the whole relationship between Amabel and Ripple, for instance.
It all works out fairly predictably and easily, but it’s fun while it lasts and I didn’t get too embarrassed on everyone’s behalves, which was a plus. It was definitely a worthy distraction from fretting over my rabbit at the time, too (in consequence of the idiot biting through a cable and electrocuting himself — he’s 100% fine now).
This is a romance set in a fantasy world, with a bit of mystery as well, so if any of those things fail to appeal, you probably won’t get on with it. This is a romance set in a fantasy world, with a bit of mystery as well, so if any of those things fail to appeal, you probably won’t get on with it. I found it delightful, though: the world isn’t incredibly rich or anything, but there’s enough there to give a solid background to the story and prevent it feeling paper-thin. The romance is sweet, and the characters are enjoyable: the way they deal with their situation right from the start, the way they write to each other, the way they take care of one another.
There are a few instances of stupid misunderstandings which mostly just serve to drag out the tension, which is a little annoying — my least favourite trope or way of spinning out a story ever. Still, it wasn’t too painful, and the way they worked out their issues and actually communicated actually kinda made up for it.
I’m definitely planning to read more of Speer’s work in future.
Not my favourite of the Heyer romances I've read so far, but different because it nigh on begins with the couple getting married, and the romance comeNot my favourite of the Heyer romances I've read so far, but different because it nigh on begins with the couple getting married, and the romance comes later. Also full of sword fights and highwaymen and mistaken identities -- it probably has the most action of Heyer's romances that I've read so far, except maybe The Talisman Ring.
I'm not sure why, then, I didn't like it as much as the others. It's still funny, though maybe not as funny as the others, and Horry's brother is quite ridiculous -- too much to be believed, perhaps. It's more slapstick than the witty banter of some of Heyer's other characters.
Still, this was plenty of fun, even if I had no doubt how it would end....more
A Civil Contract is quite unlike Heyer’s other novels, because the romance is understated and, indeed, there isn’t much romance at all, at least not iA Civil Contract is quite unlike Heyer’s other novels, because the romance is understated and, indeed, there isn’t much romance at all, at least not in the same sense. It’s a much more practical novel, dealing with the realities of life: more or less arranged marriages, marriages of convenience, unsuitable matches… The most entertaining thing about it is the clash between the aristocratic main character and his father-in-law, Mr Chawleigh. In fact, Mr Chawleigh quite steals the show on a number of occasions.
Jenny is one of Heyer’s better-realised heroines in one sense: she is practical, not very subtle, and devoted from the start to making her new husband comfortable and happy. Of course, that’s a stereotype too, and one which readers may well find less engaging than the sharp back-and-forth of Heyer’s Sophy (for one example). Still, Jenny clearly knows her own mind and does not regret things, although she does have human feelings — wishful thinking, some jealousy, etc, etc. I find her interesting because she’s so untypical of Heyer — a cosy little homemaker! And one with whom we sympathise, even though I did feel that Julia’s flaws were somewhat overdone, in a sort of ‘well, if Julia’s too nice then Jenny isn’t going to come into her own at all’ sort of way.
Really, A Civil Contract is about marriage, not about courting (like The Convenient Marriage, which has some similarities, though not in the characters); it’s about a quieter sort of love, not a grand passion. It’s about making the best of things, and about having a partner who you can rely on. Adam finally realises that that’s what he has in Jenny, and that’s lovely: the way his snobbishness initially gets in the way is annoying, but he learns.
As someone in a nearly eleven-year relationship (not to mention someone who feels no sexual attraction at all), this is in many ways more true of my experience, and it’s nice to see it in a romance novel (of sorts; I think this is less clearly romance than some of Heyer’s others, but if we divide her work into historicals, romances and mysteries… this seems to fit most into the romance section, being too recent in date for the historicals and clearly not a mystery). It might be fun to have a passionate doomed love for someone, but what matters is whether you can work together, work things out together, communicate. Jenny and Adam do model that, as each learns to discuss things with the other and share their lives.
In other ways, A Civil Contract is interesting because of the background of the French Revolution, the perspective of Adam as a former soldier, and the class mixing which happens as a result of the marriage. There are some very entertaining characters, including some very determined and headstrong women who are very different to Jenny, but still positive. (Lady Nassington is one; Lady Oversley is another, in a way; and of course, Lydia.)
All in all, this isn’t one of the more adventurous stories, like The Talisman Ring, and neither is the romance one with tension or too much worry about how it’s going to work out. It is, for the most part, fairly comfortable — though I wonder if perhaps it would have been less so in more class-conscious times. (Says the daughter of a working class man and a upper-middle-class woman, whose families cordially, and sometimes not so cordially, hated each other!)
I loved Sprig Muslin. It's ridiculous fluff and therefore ridiculously entertaining, and I love the characters and the way everything turns out. AmandI loved Sprig Muslin. It's ridiculous fluff and therefore ridiculously entertaining, and I love the characters and the way everything turns out. Amanda is perfect and ridiculous, which is to say perfectly ridiculous, and poor Sir Gareth has the patience of a saint. The whole tangle of misunderstandings didn't even drive me nuts with vicarious embarrassment, in this case -- it's so deftly handled that it remains funny and light.
I prefer The Talisman Ring's plot by a good way, but Heyer's skill as a writer got me equally twisted up in this story. The romances really are a good bit better than the mysteries, because she evokes the setting so wonderfully....more
You'd think I'd remember how much glee Georgette Heyer's books can bring me, but I really hadn't expected to enjoy this one so much. The romance is soYou'd think I'd remember how much glee Georgette Heyer's books can bring me, but I really hadn't expected to enjoy this one so much. The romance is sort of annoying in that it comes somewhat out of the blue -- I mean, knowing the genre, you see it coming, but not why the couple would feel all that intensely about each other by that point.
I do love all the characters, though: ridiculous Nicky and his dog, Ned and his way of being able to talk anyone into anything and make it seem natural besides, even the more incidental characters. Elinor is less colourful than either of those male leads, but I enjoyed her banter even if I wish it'd extended to actually saying no to Ned a bit more.
Speaking of dogs, my giggles rather annoyed the one next door while I was reading this. Something about Heyer's work -- her romances, at least -- seems to get me just right. More so than Mary Stewart's romances, even....more
If you’ve read a couple of Heyer’s books, you know what to expect. You recognise the character types as they appear — the charmingly innocent heroine,If you’ve read a couple of Heyer’s books, you know what to expect. You recognise the character types as they appear — the charmingly innocent heroine, the dishonourable but charming villain, the various prototypes for her heroes… Friday’s Child is of the “marriage of convenience” school, in which Lord Sheringham marries a childhood friend, Hero, more or less on a whim to spite his family. She’s loved him all along, of course, while he is monumentally unaware of having any feelings towards any woman, and certainly doesn’t expect to love his wife (though being a noble Heyer male, he will of course do his duty toward her).
As ever, it’s the detail and Heyer’s wit that carry a story that could be formulaic. I both laughed and cried at Friday’s Child, I’ll confess, sometimes at more or less the same scene. Sherry’s friends and their loyalty to him and to Hero are both funny and endearing, pretty much all the time; there’s something very pathetic about Hero’s adoration of Sherry, and the way he treats her (being angry with her for behaving exactly as he’s told her is right), which is funny in some scenes and just terribly sad in others. I forget which friend of mine has noted that Heyer is one of the few writers who can make a rather silly character one you sympathise with and root for, when you wouldn’t ordinarily be able to stand them at all. This is definitely true with pretty much all the characters here.
Ultimately, it’s not a deep novel of great philosophical worth, and it’s not the best of Heyer’s work in terms of originality or flair either. But it’s fun and it made me happy.
I'm going to run out of Heyer romances to read in no time at this rate, but I can't quite bring myself to regret it. I'm going to be talking like a HeI'm going to run out of Heyer romances to read in no time at this rate, but I can't quite bring myself to regret it. I'm going to be talking like a Heyer novel, too, and while my girlfriend might regret it, it'd amuse me far too much to pass up the chance to annoy her. Black Sheep isn't the best of Heyer's books, I think, nor my absolute favourite, but it's as fun as you'd expect and I'd probably rank it reasonably highly.
I liked it a lot that the main heroine was an older woman -- not old by our standards, of course, but thought to be pretty much 'on the shelf' by her contemporaries! -- and the main hero an older man: Heyer doesn't seem to have got stuck in any particular rut when it comes to her romances. There's a world of difference between impulsive, inexperienced Horry (of The Inconvenient Marriage) and Abigail Wendover, who knows her own mind and recognises other people's motives.
As usual, I enjoyed the banter between the couple (something which is, to a large extent, lacking in The Convenient Marriage, which might explain why I liked it quite a bit less) and the end was very satisfying....more
Ah, now here is a worthy successor to Mary Stewart for my bathtime reading. For god's sake, tell me which other Heyer books are like this so I can besAh, now here is a worthy successor to Mary Stewart for my bathtime reading. For god's sake, tell me which other Heyer books are like this so I can besiege the library for them. It's funny, it laughs at itself, the characters are ridiculous, the hero initially seems forbidding and then turns out to be a good sport after all, in a rather severe and cautious way. I fell for him totally. Eustacie and Ludovico weren't my interest at all: Miss Thane and Sir Tristram were much more my speed -- and I did enjoy background characters too, like Sylvester and Nye and Clem and Sir Hugo.
I used to sneer at reading romances. More fool me. This is immense fun. It's not precisely intellectual, but it's well written and self-aware, and deeply involving. I'm honestly tempted to give it a five star rating, even though it doesn't hold up against other books I've rated five stars, because I smiled so much reading it, and giggled a fair amount too.
Heyer's detective type novels are okay, but shockingly, I think I might find myself preferring her other work, if they're all like this....more
The first story in this ebook is funny, but a little clumsy in that -- there are good, solid bits to make you smile, like this one:
Amongst the many ot
The first story in this ebook is funny, but a little clumsy in that -- there are good, solid bits to make you smile, like this one:
Amongst the many other preoccupations of the lord, beyond his extensive shoe collection, were his money (which he could never have enough of), his lands (which were never vast enough), his ex-wife (who was not dead enough), and his chess game (which he played by himself and therefore found little fault with).
On the other hand, there's the bits where Lord Ronan starts basically fluttering at the wrist and cooing and such things. That story didn't feel genuine in emotion.
The second one, though, does: I liked it quite a lot. There were aspects I wasn't sure about (for example, the narration: the way it's presented makes you wonder exactly how stupid the main character is -- I think more subtlety of touch is required here, too), but the emotion caught me up enough that I reread it right away to appreciate it more. It's much more involving than the first story, in its bittersweet longing....more
I think this is the first (and shortest) of the books I've read from my recent binge of lesbian fantasy. It makes a good start: it is erotica, but theI think this is the first (and shortest) of the books I've read from my recent binge of lesbian fantasy. It makes a good start: it is erotica, but there is real background and feeling here as well, and Kingsgrave set up the situation carefully, weaving it into and around Selkie-lore rather than just using a convenient existing story. For all that it's short, I cared about the characters. It's well written, and the erotic scenes don't resort to cliché or crassness....more
I'm not sure this really belongs under speculative fiction, but I found it in the SF/F section in Waterstones, so it'll do. Nor is it exactly humour -I'm not sure this really belongs under speculative fiction, but I found it in the SF/F section in Waterstones, so it'll do. Nor is it exactly humour -- it's humorous, but I don't think that's the main feature of the book. It's also not a romance, even though there is romance in it. In fact, I'm not entirely sure what it is, altogether.
I did enjoy it, all the way through, which is a step up for me when it comes to Connie Willis. (I found The Domesday Book painful when it comes to pacing, but good, and haven't been able to finish anything else of any length by her.) But all the time I wasn't really sure what I was supposed to hook onto, what I was supposed to be connecting with. I did like the little romance, but I saw it coming, and some parts of it were ridiculous -- but I also saw them coming because of the set-up.
Anyway, quite fun, but not a good introduction to Connie Willis, I would say. Painful as I found the pacing, go with Domesday Book, or the novella I actually started with, Fire Watch. There's some good writing buried under the crap pacing (or pacing that really doesn't work for me, anyway), and a bright mind....more
The Best of All Possible Worlds is not a perfect book. I can sympathise with various of the lower-star reviews out there. It's a quiet book, contemplaThe Best of All Possible Worlds is not a perfect book. I can sympathise with various of the lower-star reviews out there. It's a quiet book, contemplative, and ultimately despite the backdrop it's basically a romance against a sci-fi, post-disaster backdrop. It's not quite Ursula Le Guin, but I quite liked the slow progression. It had the feel of something unfolding, rather than a roller-coaster ride, and that's just fine by me.
I think some potentially problematic things are brought up by the plot and dealt with varying degrees of success. The domestic abuse by telepathy ties in with the plot in a couple of ways, so I don't understand people saying that doesn't fit. I'm very tired of the whole "you included this [minority] character just to get brownie points" idea. Maybe there are some people out there who do that, but I don't see why a character has to be fully explored with all characteristics plot-relevant to be included. Finding a big long explanation for a gender neutral, essentially asexual character isn't necessary, if that's the way the character works. And Lian worked fine in that sense, for me -- and I think that aspect of their identity was relevant, in some ways.
I mean, you don't include other stripes of queer characters and then look at them with a magnifying glass to justify their inclusion. Some people are just queer, why can't characters just be queer? And why oh why do you need to know what's going on downstairs for trans* people?
All in all, I didn't love this the way I enjoyed Redemption in Indigo, but I'm glad I got round to reading it. (Finally.)...more
