Never say never

I ranted about word verification (still love that song). Well, I've had to eat my words and introduce it.

Spam.

George Kemble: Liz Carlyle's Man in Regency London

Every time I read a Liz Carlyle book I think, I really must do a blog post on her one day.

I've just finished Never Lie to a Lady. It was good, and better than the other two in the Never series for me. But this is not a review of Never Lie to a Lady.

Carlyle is a really solid writer for me. Even the books of hers that haven't worked so well IMO have nevertheless been well-put together. Her prose isn't particularly breathless or gorgeous but it's very good. Clear and well expressed. Good storytelling. The pages turn, I want to go on reading.

Her settings are excellent. There's always lots of well-researched detail in them that never degenerates into a history lecture. I also like the way she mixes up the classes/ worlds of the time. We don't just go to ballrooms in Carlyle books, we go down to the docks, into the seamier areas of London, into theatres and brothels; we meet servants and doxies and shopkeepers and cutthroats as well as peers. And these are proper characters rather than outlines. We see that the servants are part of a household, not invisible ciphers who conveniently vanish whenever something more interesting is about to happen.

In fact one of my favourite characters in Never Lie to a Lady is the hero's valet, Gibbons. Here is a classic exchange:

'Good God man - what are you doing with my coat?'

...'Making a futile attempt to dispel the stench of tobacco smoke and cheap eau de toilette,' (Gibbons) said over his shoulder, ' It utterly reeks, my lord. Where in God's name did you go last night?'

...'Played macao with Struthers at some Soho hellhole,' (Nash) answered, returning his gaze to the paper. 'Now stop waving my coat at Hyde Park before you spook a horse.'

'My lord, it stinks.'

'Take it down to the butler's pantry.'

Gibbons shot him a testy look. 'I cannot,' he said. 'Agnes has asthma. If I take it belowstairs she'll wheeze for a week.'

These two bicker away like the Odd Couple in a way I very much enjoyed. But Gibbons is only my second-favourite Liz Carlyle valet of all time. My favourite, of course, is George Kemble. I adore George Kemble.

Kemble (he is always referred to as Kemble rather than George) first popped up in Carlyle's debut novel, My False Heart, as the hero's valet. Whilst he hasn't been in every Carlyle book since then, he's been in a lot of them - certainly the Devil ones and all three of the most recent Never series.

Kemble is a resolutely secondary character, small and perfectly formed. He is not being set up for his own book but his character has continued to develop throughout the books he has appeared in. This is slightly unusual in the romance genre these days where characters are often only developed and richly drawn when there is the possibility of them getting their own books.

I always look forward to meeting Kemble again because he's a wonderful character. He's gay, slightly camp, flamboyant, dangerous, courageous, witty, slightly vain and - in my head - rather gorgeous. I picture him slender and shorter than the average romance hero with blond hair. Funnily enough, when I went hunting through a couple of Carlyles for a physical description, he was described as having dark hair. But I think he will always be fair in my head. I picture him a bit like Anthony Andrews as Sebastian in Brideshead Revisited but in Regency garb. Not that I'm at all specific about these things!

The high watermark for Kemble's appearances came in The Devil to Pay when we discovered his full backstory. The heroine in that book was his sister and the hero also had a connection to him. It was so rewarding to discover that Kemble - whose part I had enjoyed in other books - had a full and dramatic backstory worthy of a main character. By this time, Kemble had moved on from being a valet to owning a sort of antique shop with his 'very good friend' Maurice. But we've also learned that he knows every thief and whore in London, that he's lethal in a fight, that he's not above a little thievery of sorts himself and that he nevertheless has a strict code of honour of his own, though not necessarily one that fits with society's views. In one of the books, he begins to work with Max De Vendenhiem, the hero of another Carlyle book and sort of proto-police-detective. It's in this semi-official guise that he pops up in each book of the Never series.

There's a deliciousness to having this incrementally built-up knowledge about a character. We suspect how he may react in certain situations and are rewarded when he does so. (As I type this I'm reminded of Nix from Kresley Cole's Immortals series). And we're allowed to share secrets with him in seemingly innocuous exchanges. For example, in Never Deceive a Duke, in the early part of the novel, a number of characters, including Kemble are discussing the fact that the hero has just come into a dukeship (spolier ahead).

'And the most shocking thing, Mr Kemble!' (Xanthia) laid a hand on his coat sleeve. 'Gareth is going to be a duke!'

'Oh, Good God, Zee!' Gareth felt his blood begin to boil. 'Just hush, please.'

'I am perfectly serious,' she said, still addressing Kemble. 'Gareth has a secret duke in his family!'

'Yes, well, don't we all. ' Mr Kemble smiled tightly.

Part of me would love Kemble to get his own book, but I worry that that might spoil him a bit for me. In any event, Carlyle's own website seems to indicate that this is unlikely.

Perhaps Carlyle has it exactly right, serving up this fabulous character in small, delicious portions.

Final Reflections on Bliss by Judy Cuevas

I finished Bliss a wee while ago but wanted to mull over it before posting my final reflections. There are so many things I have to say about it that I could probably have written three more posts on it, but I wanted to distill all these thoughts down to one post that would hopefully do justice to how very much I loved this book. And so I'm going to talk about how Nardi and Hannah complete one another.

This post is heavy on spoilers. I'm revealing stuff unashamedly on the basis the book came out in 1995, this is not really a review, and I'm giving you fair warning. You may not wish to read on if you hope to read this in future.

Carolyn Jean once did a great post (which I cannot find, alas) on how the best H/H combinations show the H and H bringing something to the other that no-one else can; completing that person. I think Bliss is probably the best example of this I've ever come across.

At the start of the novel, we learn that Nardi is a hopeless ether addict and that Hannah has scandal in her past. As the book develops, the details of these difficulties and the reasons for them - both the external reasons and the internal reasons that are rooted in Nardi and Hannah's characters - become apparent. It's beautifully parsed out and very satisfying to read.

Nardi is an unusual romance hero. Fundamentally, he is a strong and stubborn man but he does allow himself to be pushed around by his family to some extent, and he has a need to be admired and a consequent addiction to the celebrity he enjoyed in years gone past. He was a prodigy in the art world; a tremendously talented and youthful sculptor who it seemed could do no wrong. However, when he produced some less fine work, he could not bear the virulent criticism. It robbed him of his confidence and eventually he became an ether drinker who produced nothing other than the odd tombstone (fittingly). When Hannah meets him he has hit rock bottom. He has agreed to marry Marie du Gard sight unseen because he simply doesn't care about anything. He is dead really; numb and impotent, in every sense.

Being sober was like living in daylight all the time; no shade; no light; no rest. And there was nothing for him to do by daylight. Useless, useless; this word echoed for a moment. There was nothing really here for him.

As for Hannah, the scandal in her past is related to two rich young men she was involved with in her home town. She is drawn to wealthy and confident men. They seem to promise everything she wants. Excitement and security both. Hannah again is not typical of romance heroines. She is materialistic. She craves the fine things in life. She knows that other things are more meaningful but she struggles with resisting temptation. The way Cuevas shows us Hannah's materialism is beautifully nuanced. It's not just about having money or things, it's about being part of The World, about having access to beauty and the best that life has to offer, it's about excitement and buzz. And something she's never had - power.

Hannah decided then and there that she liked money. It was so straightforward, so effective, so simple. It was a grand commodity for exchange, bringing with it freedom, respect and glory. Whatever else she might want in life, she most certainly wanted this: money, more money, lots and lots of money.

And she wanted to earn it finding and selling treasure. She loved hunting through the chateau. She wanted to hunt in it endlessly, all over, without restriction, the way kings of old had hunted private, reserved forests. She wanted to hunt it, haunt it, and places just like it, for the rest of her life. And these prices were validation of her own taste and discrimination. They made her part of an inner sanctum, part of the coterie of the Few, the Knowledgeable and the Informed.

Hannah's materialism and her desire to be part of 'the Few, the Knowledgeable and the Informed' have led her into trouble in the past. She is impulsive and passionate, and though never married, she is not a virgin - shockingly for the time. This is something that she herself is simultaneously shocked by and unapologetic about.

Cuevas allows Nardi and Hannah to bring out the best in one another. Hannah begins by reawakening Nardi's sexuality and then his emotions and finally his artistic talent. Nardi is (almost) entirely non-plussed by Hannah's scandalous history, appreciative of her passion both for 'beautiful men' and beautiful things. And he believes in her to do the right thing. Whatever the Amelia Besoms may think, he thinks she's a good person.

'You must understand. There are times when it is good to be wanton. With me par example,' he said. 'Now.'....

....'Well, you you certainly are, as Mrs Besom says, very French about this.'

'It is not French. It is mature.'

And then later:

He wished Hannah didn't hate herself so much for being tempted. He wished he could tell her: He was tempted himself by unwholesome things; everyone had their ether, one way or another. Temptation was not something a person could eliminate; he or she could only resist it.

The way Nardi and Hannah complete one another is given wonderful shape towards the end of the novel when Nardi takes a disastrous sculpture he had previously made - and which had been torn to pieces by the critics - and begins to create a new sculpture of Hannah from the same piece.

By the end of the week he had roughed out a woman, a beautiful, round, healthy human being, chipping and climbing her way out of her old, gray, stone self.

This book left me completely breathless.

The similarity occurred to me at the bus stop today

Eminen

Elvis

Why my love for romance is like..... The Swan by Saint Saens

The Swan by Saint Saens is a very beautiful piece of music. You may not think you know it but you do. See below.



See! You do know it, don't you?

It's part of the Carnival of Animals which features many other pieces you also probably know. For example, The Tortoises is the can-can played very slowly indeed and The Aquarium is used in every documentary about tropical fish ever made.

The Swan was the only piece from the Carnival of Animals that Saint Saens allowed to be performed publicly during his lifetime. Apparently he thought no-one would take him seriously if they heard the others.

The Swan is a gorgeous piece of music. But still it is difficult to take seriously. Years ago, I heard someone play in on a saw. It was hilarious and absurd and I've never been been able to forget it.

Annoyingly, the saw player isn't on You Tube but they do have a vid of someone playing it on a bicycle pump and another, even better one, of someone playing it on a theremin. The expression on the face of the therminist(?) is priceless, not to mention her fabulous silver lame turban.

And The Swan is like my love of romance, why?

Beautiful and occasionally absurd.

Today I am mostly loving....Big Songs about Pashes on Teachers

Reasons to be Cheerful.....1...2...3....

1. The husbag and I are throwing a dinner party tomorrow night with a Moroccan theme. There will be: lamb tagine, fragant couscous with pomegranate seeds, olives, pistachio nuts, figs with cardamom and sheep yoghurt. And .....





Moroccan tea.....









And.....



............... baklava........

.....And......

....Turkish delight, of course.

2. Lisabea has written a review of Obsession by Charlotte Lamb that mentions yours truly (most kindly).

3. I've just finished the incredibly lightly and enjoyable and just good Manhunting by Jennifer Cruisie and now I have a pile of other promising books to read.

4. I'm excited about a new possible writing project featuring a cross-dressing heroine. Most wonderful!

5. Take o take these lips away, sung by Amy Elizabeth Wheeler. No You Tube video available but you can get this via Spotify.

Update on my foray into the oeuvre of Madeline Hunter with particular reference to The Sins of Lord Easterbrook

You may recall that I recently read my first Madeline Hunter and was sufficiently impressed to read more. A few of you were kind enough to offer up recommendations.

My first read was By Arrangement. This medieval was recommended by Sula and sort-of-seconded by Rosie and Meriam who said they liked Hunter's medievals best.

I decided to give By Arrangement a whirl first because I do really want to like novels set in centuries other than the 18th and 19th. Honest!

And it was - pretty good. Another B I'd say. B minus maybe. Decent hero and heroine and a nice little conflict that arose from a bit of ignorance on the heroine's part that made me smile. Competent. But I suppose it just confirmed - yet again had it required confirmation - that medievals aren't really me.

What exactly is it about medievals? I don't know! Ok, I do know. It is This Image that I have in my head:



Somehow the thought of a man in tunic and hose and one of those funny hats with a brooch on it is simply not as appealing as a man in breeches and topboots with his unruly hair blowing around the wind and cravat coming undone because he's stayed up till three in the morning drinking, gambling and consorting with Cyprians.

Like - oh I don't know! - this guy?

Byron

So, after By Arrangement, I thought Back to the Regency and don't spare the horses.

I selected The Sins of Lord Easterbrook recommended by Ann Aguirre who emphasised that I should read the series (of which this is the concluding book) in order.

Sorry Ann. But when I read the plot summaries of the series this belongs to, this was the one that appealed the most and after two B reads in the Hunter oeuvre but with a premonition she is an author who could score higher for me, I was anxious to go for the easy win. And anyway, I'm not really someone who minds reading series out of order. I'm awful for skimming ahead even as I'm reading. Plot surprises don't really matter to me that much. I'm principally in it for the execution.

TSOLE features one of my very favourite kind of heroes. The GBT: Gifted But Tortured. Think Jervaulx from Flowers From the Storm. In TSOLE, the hero's gift is that he can sense the emotions of others. Not in an ordinary way, but in such a way that he knows what others are thinking all the time. Further, this gift is a constant assault on his senses. He cannot be around others without being battered by their emotions, whether positive or negative, and he always knows what others are thinking and when they are lying. It's interesting, because this gives what is otherwise a straight historical a little paranormal edge. It's the only hint of that though - everything else is firmly rooted in the *real* past.

The other element that TSOLE has that I love is a reunion between H/H. I love heroes and heroines who have a history. The more complex the better. Any romance gets a little head start with me if it has that element.

Taking the plot very short, Easterbrook - in his wild and agonised youth - travelled to Macau where he met Leona. He did not reveal his true identity. He left in dramatic circumstances, returning to England to take up the reins of the Marquessate and to find a way of living with his gift/affliction. Years later, Leona comes to England for one open purpose and one secret purpose. There she meets Easterbrook, discovers his true identity, pursues her course - with his aid - and they become lovers.

One of the reasons that Easterbrook is so intrigued by Leona is that his gift does not work on her. She is guarded person and he cannot read her as he can others. This means he finds her presence restful and is in the unusual position of having to guess what she is thinking instead of simply knowing.

I really enjoyed this book, particularly the hero. Easterbrook is a sort of uber-Regency hero despite his unusual gift. Completing a series with the story of the eldest and least approachable of the brothers in a family is becoming almost a cliche these days and Easterbrook, being practically a recluse, scores top marks in that category. He also does that now-standard thing of unapologetically exercising his considerable power (think Balogh's Duke of Bewcastle and Jo Beverley's Marquess of Rothgar). It's all terribly alpha - in a good way - and not a little hot.

I think this is the Hunter book that will get me seriously reading more of her work. Since finishing it I have purchased the first in the series Rules of Seduction, and let me tell you I am itching to read it!