Blogging about blogging about blogging

Not only do I spend too much time blogging, I spend too much time thinking about blogging.

Questions I ask myself about blogging.

Why do I blog? Why do I visit and comment on other blogs? Do I blog/ visit other blogs for the same or different reasons? Do I enjoy blogging? What do I get out of it other than enjoyment? Do I just want a soapbox to air my views on, or am I looking to have a conversation? And if so, who with? Do I do this for pleasure or for mental stimulation or to seek out like-minded people, or for some other reason? When does the general desire for interaction morph into a particular desire to know what blogger A or B is going to be saying this week? And can that grow into a feeling of obligation towards blogger A or B, to 'support' them? And does that lead to a sense of expectation in return? Do I want to feel obligations and expectations in this world? Could I avoid obligation and expectation even supposing I wanted to? How free am I to express myself? What rules do I adhere to? Do I consider I require to abide by an ethical code, and if so what? What are the rules of this strange world, and where does this world begin and end?

Do I think there are answers?

Of sorts, I suppose. I have a sort of shifting philosophy when it comes to blogging. There are some basic principles there. Beyond that, it's as complex and as impossible to define as any other form of human interaction. And I'm not even going to attempt to set out my views on these various questions in this post. Maybe another time. Instead, I'll be woolly - sometimes that's very best way to get to the nub of a thing.

Sometimes, blogging feels like talking aloud in an empty room: absurd; futile. Sometimes it feels like a cathartic exhalation, no reader required. Sometimes it just feels like a really good chat with your pals. It can be the very best sort of expression: planned enough to be coherent but still with the spontaneity that gives it a conversational quality. And once it's over, it's over. Preserved forever in my archives, nevertheless it's mostly dead in a day or two. Old posts are put away and rarely viewed. Like old holiday snaps. Mementos of old conversations.

And there's something pleasing about that simultaneous transience and permanence.

Historical romance cliches: too many dukes and too much scandal?

A criticism that is levelled at historical romance over and over is that it is not true to its time. Why would all these dukes be pursuing women of no fortune or rank? In days when propriety was all, why would characters behave so scandalously? Etc.

Step forward Elizabeth Gunning (see left). I'm just giving you her maiden name for now.

Anyone who has ever read a Regency romance may have heard of the real life famous Gunning sisters, two Irish women with neither rank nor fortune who descended on London society in the 18th century and landed extremely good husbands. Romance cliche 1 - the heroine of no fortune. Georgette Heyer mentions the Gunnings in her novels as does Marion Chesney.

What I didn't know, until - oh about half an hour ago - was that Gunning sisters were in fact actresses - a far from respectable profession in the 18th century - which makes their achievement all the more extraordinary. They came from genteel poverty - a respectable family in Ireland with no money. At their mother's urging they then went to Dublin and joined the theatre. They then attended social events wearing costumes loaned by the theatre where they came to the attention of the Lord Lieutenant of Ireland. In short order they travelled to London, appeared in many performances in theatres there and were taken up by the Ton.

The Scottish National Galleries website says that Elizabeth married the 6th Duke of Hamilton weeks after meeting him at a masquerade, on St Valentine's Day. Wikipedia has it that she married him the same night she met him but that doesn't seem to be accurate. This website gives more details, including the contemporaneous report of Horace Walpole:

'The event that has made most noise since my last is the ex tempore wedding of the youngest of the two Gunnings, two ladies of surpassing loveliness, named respectively Mary and Elizabeth....whom Mrs Montague calls "those goddesses the Gunnings." .... About six weeks ago Duke Hamilton, ..... hot, debauched, extravagant, and equally damaged in his fortune and person, fell in love with the youngest at the masquerade, and determined to marry her in the spring. About a fortnight since, at an immense assembly .... Duke Hamilton made violent love at one end of the room, while he was playing at Faro at the other end; that is, he saw neither the bank nor his own cards, which were of three hundred pounds each: he soon lost a thousand. ..... two nights afterwards, being left alone with her.... he found himself so impatient that he sent for a parson. The Doctor refused to perform the ceremony without license or ring; the duke swore he would send for the archbishop; at last they were married with a ring of the BED-CURTAIN, at half-an-hour after twelve at night, at May-fair Chapel.'

Romance cliche 2 - overwhelming feelings lead to hasty marriage.

The poor old smitten 6th duke only lived till 1758. In a romance novel, he would either have been a terrible husband or a wonderful husband and in either event, his nature would make it difficult for Elizabeth to be with another man. Interesting that Walpole says he was 'hot, debauched, extravagant and equally damaged in his fortune and person'. Gosh, he sounds like a romance hero, doesn't he?

Having been left a widow by such a man, in a romance novel, Elizabeth would probably also be childless (or possibly have one child - with 'issues' that only the right sort of hero could help with). But this is the redoubtable real-life Elizabeth Gunning we're talking about here and she managed to give her duke a couple of sons (the 7th and 8th dukes respectively) and a daughter during their five year marrriage.

Perhaps the marriage was not happy because it doesn't seem that Elizabeth observed a lengthy period of mourning before she went back into society and in 1759 became engaged to - another duke! The Duke of Bridgewater was a canal fanatic and influential figure of the industrial revolution. He had returned to London after undertaking The Grand Tour and fallen in love with the widowed duchess. Wikipedia has it that the reason the engagement ended is unknown but this website about the Industrial Revolution says that the reason was that Elizabeth's sister was embroiled in a scandal (Romance cliche 3 - the scandal). Unfortunately the website doesn't explain what the scandal was but Maria Gunning's own Wikipedia page refers to rumours of an affair with the 3rd Duke of Grafton (later a prime minister of Great Britain).

As for Bridgewater, the website last referred to says that he insisted Elizabeth disown her sister but Elizabeth refused. (Romance cliche 4 - arguably self-destructive but noble behaviour). Bridgewater returned to his estates and had nothing more to do with women again until his death. (Romance cliche 5 - the bitter but nevertheless besotted villain?). He was the third and last Duke of Bridgewater. (Incidentally, it is said that Bridgewater had an unhappy childhood. His father died and his mother rejected him. Sent off to school, he spent the summers at a cousin's house. This is a classic backstory for a romance hero, so if Elizabeth's life was a romance novel and book 1 of a series, I'd be expecting Bridgewater to show up again in, say, book 3).

And Elizabeth? She got her happy ending with another duke, 'handsome Jack Campbell'. He was the Marquess of Lorne when she married him and later became the 5th Duke of Argyll. (Romance cliche 6 - HEA). He was 10 years her senior. How textbook? They lived in the fabulously beautiful Inverary Castle (see left) and had five children. He died 6 years after her in 1806. Her sons were the 6th and 7th Dukes of Argyll respectively. So she married two dukes, was mother to four dukes and was engaged to another duke.

Not bad for an actress from Ireland.

And that's not all! In 1776, when she was she was made a peeress in her own right. King George III, apparently a long time admirer, conferred the title Baroness Hamilton of Hamledon on her. Interestingly, when she died, that title went to first to her eldest surviving son of her first marriage, and then, when he died without issue, to her eldest son of her second marriage.

Her sister, Maria Gunning, married the Earl of Coventry but died very young of lead poisoning due to her fondness for wearing the heavy make up that was fashionable at the time.

Her niece, also called Elizabeth Gunning, translated a French astronomy book, Conversations on the Plurality of Worlds, published several novels and was involved in a scandal regarding forged letters of which she may have been entirely innocent...

So - do those historical romance plots still look presposterous?

Foxy Loxy, kitsune spirits and vampire werefoxes

Wolves are everywhere in romance but the poor old fox doesn't get a look in.

Why not? If anything, it is the fox that has the more respectable substantial literary tradition. One of the first storybooks I remember reading as a small child featured a memorable fox. It was that Brer Rabbit story where he pleads with Brer Fox, please don't throw me in the briar bush! I felt rather sorry for Brer Fox, but then I prefer Sylvester to Tweety Pie, Tom to Jerry and Daffy Duck to Bugs Bunny.

Back to foxes though.

We British love our foxes (other than those of us who wish to hunt them). We don't really do big mammals in the U.K. And whilst foxes aren't exactly huge, they are one of the few native wild mammals we have that can't be trampled underfoot. For my part, I have the cheek to think of them as quintessentially British. (After all, Robin Hood and Maid Marian in the Disney cartoon are foxes). And they're terribly successful. Urban foxes are very common. We have that visit our garden regularly.

Reynard the Fox is a mythical figure who dates back to medieval times. He's a deceitful character, wily and cunning, not to be trusted. He - or his type at least - appears in many traditional stories: Chicken Licken, The Gingerbread Man etc. They are nice helpful foxes too though. Like in The Golden Bird.

Foxes are just as common in other cultures. Japan, China and Korea all have fairytales featuring foxes, particularly werefoxes like the Japanese kitsune. Interestingly the kitsune often assumes the form of a woman. Small, cunning and elegant. Traditionally it was believed that a woman alone at night may well be a kitsune.

But I think my favourite literary fox is Reynardine. This traditional English ballad is a warning to young women to beware of strange and seductive men. Interestingly the wikipedia entry about it mentions a 19th century version of the song called A Vampyre Legend in which the foxy character appears to have a penchant for bloodsucking. So if the paranormal genre is looking for the next big thing, my betting is that it's going to be vampire werefoxes.

All of this though, is essentially an excuse to post my favourite cod-traditional 1970s renditions of this ballad. Here is Reynardine from Fairport Convention's 1970s Liege & Leaf album. Enjoy.

B reads that intrigue

And so to my last category of B reads. I've had one that pleasantly surprised and one that slightly disappointed. Now onto the one that intrigued.

The Seducer is the first Madeline Hunter I've read. She's one of those well-known-in-the-US writers that a British romance fan might just hear about on blogs. I can't recall precisely where I heard her name, but recently Sula commented on a post of mine that she wishes Hunter still wrote medieval romance and Ann Aguirre commented over at CJs that she is a writer who never disappoints.

As is par for the course with me, I have selected, for my first read of a new-to-me author, a book right in the middle of a series. But then reading non-chronologically doesn't bother me especially.

The series deals with the various members of a fencing academy. Daniel is a mysterious and wealthy French merchant, and one of the few non-peers in the group. He is driven by an overwhelming desire for revenge, the full reasons for which only become apparent fairly late in the story (I was glad there was more to it than I had initially imagined). Diane was somehow rescued by Daniel as a child (when he was in his early 20s it seems) and deposited by him in an austere school for girls in France. He visits her there once a year. On his last visit in chapter 1 of the book, he takes her away with him, having discovered that she is in fact 20, though she could pass for younger, and that she intends to leave the school anyway to discover what she can about her family.

It is made plain from the outset that there is something about Diane that makes a relationship with her unpalatable to Daniel despite his attraction to her. It is also made plain that he is considering using her in his plan for revenge. Over the course of the book, we discover more about Daniel and Diane's respective histories and they gradually fall in love. There are a number of villains (of varying degrees) and a tightly plotted story. It's a well-structured, well-written book.

I didn't, however, find it entirely satisfying. Daniel is the seducer of the title but the only evidence we are given of his seductive personality is various hearsay comments by other characters in the book that he has seduced his way into society. We are never given any details of these seductions or the targets of his supposed skills. More than that, Daniel didn't strike me as a seductive man at all. In fact he was cold and distant and withdrawn. That has its own appeal but it struck me as odd that he was cast as a 'seducer' to no apparent end or purpose.

Nor was I entirely convinced by the central romance. There was a slight lack of a spark there for me. It was all very competent but it lacked that certain something that would have taken me that last step into total belief in the characters and the connection between them.

However, as I've said, what the book did do was intrigue me. There were a number of scenes that I took note of, thinking Hmmm, interesting. Here is a writer I want to read more from. In particular, that first chapter in which Daniel takes Diane away from the school has a fairly excruciating scene in which Diane is humiliated in front of Daniel. I was wincing and closing my eyes as I read. Any author that can make me feel that conflicted and uncomfortable (in a good way) gets my attention.

So have any of you read Madeline Hunter? Can you recommend a Hunter that might be an A read for me? I'm not a huge medieval fan but willing to give it a try.

Here ends the short series of B reviews.

Good Bs and not-so-good Bs

My theorising about the poor old B grade read continues.

In my last B post, I posed the question Are Bs the new Cs? Today I'm wondering When is a B good and when is it not so good? Answer: depends on reader expectations.

My last B post contained a happy happy B review. I had low expectations of Simply Magic by Mary Balogh cos I'd met the characters before and thought they both seemed pretty boring. So I was pleasantly surprised.

Scandal by Carolyn Jewel was a book which I purchased with pretty high expectations given that it had garnered some very good reviews over at the likes of Dear Author, The Book Smugglers and Katiebabs at Romance Novel TV. Given that it contains a number of elements that are big winners for me (it's a historical; the hero and heroine have a wrenching(ish) shared backstory; the hero has been a Very Naughty Boy in the past and the heroine's been treated like crapola)** this should in theory be a winner for me.

**(does the fact that that is a 'winner' for me make me sound weird?).

Scandal was, in terms of quality and the degree of reading pleasure experienced, in line with Simply Magic. But I closed it with a small feeling of disappointment rather than with satisfaction because I was expecting more.

I don't make these comments in order to diss the book - it's a good book, well-written etc. and I'd recommend it as a very decent historical read. I make the comments to try to further explain some of my feelings about reviewing/blogging etc.

I've read A-/B+ reviews that come across as 'bad reviews' because they concentrate on the one thing the reviewer didn't like about the book. I've read C/C+ reviews that make the book sound wonderful. I recall a review where the reviewer stated that she was grading that book lower than similar-quality books by the same author because she was bored of the same old thing from that author. I've posted that I don't even do grading yet cheerfully bandy grades around when it suits me. I've posted about emotional reviews. I'm not sure I'm getting this reviewing business right and I don't even believe there is a right way to review ,and actually I don't think I even do reviews.

I change my mind every five minutes.

When I'm a reviewing a book/ posting random comments about/ whatever it is that I do, I'm just trying to convey what it felt like to read that book. Sometimes it helps to give a grade, sometimes not. Sometimes I want to acknowledge the books qualities why expressing my dissatisfaction; sometimes I want to acknowledge the books flaws while expressing my delight.

Meriam recently did an interesting 2-part review of Dark Desires After Dusk that dealt with the things she didn't like in part 1 and 'why I loved it anyway' in part 2. I loved that format.

Not only is blogging about books not an exact science, it's no kind of science at all, although you can make it seem more so by careful application of grading and a measured voice. It's all the harder (for me) when I'm trying to express my thoughts in written form, without the benefit of hand gestures, winks and vocal intonation (all of which, you may or may not be surprised to learn, I utilise freely in Real Life).

I didn't really intend to go on about that point quite so much before getting onto poor old Scandal which really is a perfectly decent read.

Sophie is a widow, her late husband Tommy having seduced her when she was 17 and run off to Scotland with her before proceeding to dump her in the country and head off for London to spend her cash. Nice guy.

The Earl of Bannalt was one of Tommy's cronies and - even worse - the man that Tommy aspired to be. When Sophie and Bannalt meet, they are both married; when the book starts they are both widowed. Bannalt is already in love with Sophie and wants to marry her. The book is essentially his pursuit of her and her determination to evade him because she doesn't want another marriage like the last one.

Throughout the book, we get flashes of Sophie and Bannalt's history - how they met, and how their relationship developed; how he came to love her, feeling for her what he had never felt for his wife. That story is nicely parsed out, with satisfying emotional punches delivered at key moments.

What didn't work so well for me was the part of the story set several years later. I never felt fully engaged with Sophie and Bannalt. And I almost felt bad about this. The author went out of her way to show you why Bannalt loved Sophie so passionately - and yet I remained unconvinced. I've thought about it a lot, and I think the reason is that Sophie was never really alive for me. I had this sense that she was a reader stand-in; an almost stand-apart character that the reader could project herself onto in order to enjoy Bannalt even more. There was something just a wee bit too reasoned, a wee bit too authorial about her. And it always annoys me when the heroine pronounces herself plain in a book only for every single other person to go on about how lovely she is.

But this was a B read. The prose was very decent indeed and the romance was high. I did like those nicely placed emotional gut punches and there was just lots and lots of scenes between the hero and heroine which I always love. I enjoyed it. I really did.

But I can't resist one last gripe. Ok, two last gripes. Firstly, the sex scenes. These were highly choreographed and lacked any pace. I got lost in the endless references of whose thigh was going where and couldn't really understand why Sophie and Bannalt were so aroused when I was having to think so hard about what was actually happening. Secondly, I don't think I have ever read a book in which the protaganists' eye-colour has been mentioned so often. It began to irritate me. A lot.

So there we are. A disappointed B but a B nonetheless and you could do a great deal worse than to pick this intelligent, nicely written romance up.

Rules were made to be broken...

I'm becoming a Kresley Cole bore, leaving comments all over the place about my glomming of her Immortals After Dark series. I've even stooped to posting that horrible horrible cover. Well, it is the book of which I speak. *shrugs philosophically.*

This is not a review. Just a word or too about the old subjective/objective review thing and how something that might really get on your wick in one book is forgivable in a book you are enjoying.

I thoroughly enjoyed this book, and in a very uncomplicated way. It was a riot. I loved all the extreme emotional rollercoastering and the wisecracking and the sheer absurdity of it all. And the sort of so-wrong-it's-rightness of it. Like this where Mariketa and Bowen have got to tell each other 5 things about themselves. It's Bowe's turn:

'I like football,' he finally said.

'You've already said that so that doesn't count.'

'I love the colour of your eyes.'...

....'What's your favourite place to visit?'

He absently answered, 'Wherever you are.'

'Bowen, five things about you can't all be about me.'

Oh, and if that sounds a bit stalkily weird, it totally is. But so right for this story; so wrong it's right.

However, I digress. The matter which I am posting about is the accent/dialect thing.

I have in the past assiduously avoided any highlander romances. Cos the accent/dialect thing Kills The Experience. I have posted on this in the past.

I don't even have the excuse with WDOAWN that I didn't know about Bowe being Scottish cos he popped up in the previous book and I got enough of his eye-poppingly awful and just wrong way of speaking to know what I was getting into. It even gave me pause before I bought.

Let me make no bones about it - his accent is awful. Completely wrong. Not merely absurd but phonetically wrong. Doona? DOONA? What is this doona crap? NO-ONE in Scotland ever says doona. I mean seriously. Not anywhere. (Maybe it sounds like that to other people, I don't know? If I was talking to someone from home, I might say dinnae.)

Bowe-speak is like nothing I've ever heard before. Full of gems like :

'Doona know what it does (of a birth control patch) but I ken that people who use patches...might be eager for a new one.'

Given that ken means know, why would he use one formulation in the first phrase and another in the second? To my 'reader's ears' that almost sounds like someone trying to talk 'proper' and then lapsing - which clearly isn't intended at all.

And there's just the sheer patchiness of it. If you talk with a strong accent, it pervades everything you say, you don't just use a few choice words. Bowe is all over the place. And I much preferred reading him in straightforward English. I get that he's Scottish. I don't need those clues. Do you?

Anyway - key question: did it matter?

It didnae!

Well, not really. As I've typed this post the issue has taken on greater proportions. But if I'm honest it didn't really detract from my reading experience. Still loved the book. Finished it with a big happy sigh. Though it has to be remembered this is a paranormal and a lighthearted one at that so you can always find 'different world' excuses for oddnesses.

So are rules are relative?

Seduced at last by a paranormal

Thank you Meriam. Thank you Carolyn Jean.

I ordered my first Kresley Cole (No Rest for the Wicked) a month ago. It was a hundred pages before it really got hold of me. Then I whizzed (squealing) through the rest in a day and a half and immediately ordered two more. They arrived today!

Husbag is out. So I put the kids to bed and decided to read just one chapter of Wicked Deeds on a Winter's Night before I did any house things or blogging things or writing things tonight. It is now 11pm and I've just put it down. Temporarily. Long enought to post this. Then bed with my book. I have a hankering for a French Fancy and a cup of tea as I continue. The pink ones are nicest. (One of my favourite vintage Charlotte Lambs has a great scene with a heroine insouciantly nibbling the icing off a French-Fancy-like-cake while the hero glowers furiously at her).

The cover of Wicked Deeds on a Winter's Night is so utterly harrowing that I've gone with a French Fancy image instead.

Edited to add - oooooo! See this pimped-giant-French-Fancy!

Are Bs the new Cs?

Recently I've had a run of good solid B reads. Increasingly, I'm finding that I don't have the patience for mere C reads. These are tending to languish, sometimes to be picked up in lean periods and sometimes to become DNFs for no particular reason other than that I have something better to read.

I have a tendancy to only post about the very good and the very bad reads. So I'm going to buck that trend and post thoughts on a of these B reads this week.

First up is Simply Magic by Mary Balogh.

I like this cover - it's the British one. It's one that may be safely brandished in public. The American cover ain't mantitty but it's not very nice (periodically in blogland this British/American cover thing comes up - one day I'll post).

Any road up, this is the third in a quartet. Having read about the hero and heroine, Peter and Susannah in the previous two books, I wasn't madly interested in their story and didn't therefore pick up this up as soon as it came out. But despite my expectations, and true to form, Mary Balogh made me care about Peter and Susannah and drew me into their world.

As with many Baloghs, this is a character driven story. There's an involved history that links Peter and Susannah that we discover over the course of the book but that's history. There are no startling events so far as the protaganists are concerned. We get a fairly standard beginning whereby they are thrown into one another's company when Susannah visits her friend, Frances (of book 1) and Peter is visiting his friend, a close neighbour of Frances. Peter is a viscount with wealth and social position. Susannah is a poor schoolteacher; respectable but no 'catch' for a viscount.

When they meet, Susannah is well aware of who Peter and has reason to avoid him. She is rude to him on their first meeting but gradually warms to him despite who he is, and they become friends. Neither of them considers that they would be more than friends at this stage. For reasons that are not apparent (but which I found convincing when they came out) Susannah would not consider a romance with Peter. As for Peter, whilst he finds Susannah attractive, she is not the sort of a woman a viscount would normally consider marrying and he is therefore aware of the need not to trifle with her affections. So in the early stages of the book, we get a satisfying friendship developing between two likeable, sensible people. Naturally, the friendship becomes more than friendship and despite their mutual intentions to nip romance in the bud, both Peter and Susannah are unable to deny their growing feelings.

This is not an action packed book; it doesn't pack a particularly strong emotional punch. What it is is a very likeable book about two very likeable characters who have good reasons (in the context of the period) to stay from one another but who are unable to do so. The portrayal of a growing love is beautifully done. Balogh's prose is, as ever, deceptively simple. She has such clarity of expression; an enviable ability to put across the feelings of her characters and their internal thought processes in a natural, easy way. There are no histrionics, no unreasonable behaviour. Generally, the characters accept and act on the social norms of the time in which they live (oh alright, apart from having sex...). All in all it's well-written period romance. I admit that it lacks the extra dimension that would for me raise it to B+ or A, but a satisying read nonetheless.

Next up will be Scandal by Carolyn Jewel.