Mrs. Julien Presents

Longbourn by Jo Baker is proof that new work based in an homage can be so much more than the wish-fulfillment and bizarre tangents of fan fiction. A lot of literature provides alternate perspectives of a known works and Baker took Pride and Prejudice, a novel known so well by so many, and used it as a starting point for an interesting and compelling new story. The Bennets and their love lives are the MacGuffin to hang the narrative upon, but what Baker shows the reader goes well beyond the original story. Lizzie and Jane make good matches, Lydia makes an imprudent one, but while their worst potential fate is to be a beholden maiden aunt or living in genteel poverty, what of the lives of their servants and the working poor who surround them and indeed live at Longbourn with them?

Sarah was orphaned at a young age and soon taken in at Longbourn manor where she trained as a servant, slowly taking on heavier and more complex duties. Now twenty, she has worked with the Hills and for the Bennets for most of her life. Her counterpart, Polly, has followed the same road, starting in service at six (!), she is now twelve and has the foibles of a child her age. James Smith has just been brought into the home as a footman. Sarah is fascinated by him immediately, but mostly as a mystery to be solved. He is hardworking and considerate, but aloof as well. He keeps his head down and, especially regarding Sarah, his eyes forward. He had been “on the tramp” before securing this position and wants nothing to do with anything but the basic comforts of life he has long been denied. The inner battle between the desire to belong and be safe versus asserting one’s true self is central to the book. Both James and Sarah, and everyone else of their class, have lives of little choice and precarious security, even when they reach for new experiences.

Writing about the 19th century below stairs gives Baker the chance for a more varied take on the comedy of manners Austen wrote. Familiar Pride and Prejudice characters are given back stories and complications that feel reasonable.  When shown from the servants’ perspective some characters become more sympathetic, some less so. Wickham in particular is given greater depth and none of it good. Mr. Darcy appears briefly in the story as a man of such exalted personage that his presence is like a god descending from Olympus and one comparably unconcerned with the mere mortals around him. The chasm between his life of Sarah’s could not be much wider and I loved seeing him through her eyes.

The historical detail of Longbourn is what made it most enjoyable for me, although the realistic recounting of James’ military service was harrowing as well. I read a lot of books about people falling in love set against variably dubious historical backdrops and I can be pretentiously captious about whatever detail the author decides to include. Here the historical elements are crucial because without them you cannot understand who the characters are. Their jobs are a large portion of their identity, the system that holds them in place was designed that way. A warm bed and steady meals are considered a luxury that they should be grateful for.The limitations and injustices of the class system are ferocious and depressing, yet Sarah and James strive for their own happiness as best they can against the mundane drudgery and quiet desperation.

Links to my other reviews can be found on my complete reading list of books sorted by author or Author Commentary & The Tallies Shameful.

Spoiler: The dog dies.

It sets a certain tone when a historical romance opens with the hero going at it with his mistress. The series is called “London’s Greatest Lovers”, after all. Like the heroes of the other two books in the trilogy, Pleasures of a Notorious Gentleman and Waking Up with the Duke, as well as a couple of other Lorraine Heath heroes, the gentleman in question has an enchanted phallus and hard-earned prowess in slipping it to women. The kind of mad skillz that render the heroine’s shyness and inexperience moot and has prostitutes refusing payment. Lorraine Heath is old school.

In the biggest of Big Misunderstandings, the Earl of Westcliffe separated from his wife, Claire, on their wedding night when he discovered her in bed with his brother, Stephen. NOTHING HAPPENED! and it was a ruse to delay the consummation devoutly to be avoided, but Westcliffe took it very, very badly, beat the stuffing out of his brother, and exiled his wife.

Claire had just turned 17 and Westcliffe was 25 when they married. I don’t think delaying to relationship for a few years was a consideration in de-squicking the plot, but I am grateful for it nonetheless. Claire and Westcliffe had been contractually betrothed to each other virtually since her birth. Westcliffe really needed Claire’s dowry and her abusive father wanted her out of the house ASAP. The groom is an intense and overbearing man who made no effort to get to know his (child) bride. Claire was terrified, but the wedding night bait and switch was all Stephen’s idea. Close friends from childhood, he and Claire were young, drunk, and stupid. Getting caught in bed together was the best delaying tactic the champagne could come up with.

Three years later, Claire has decided it’s time to be married in truth as well as in exile. She has been living in isolation at Westcliffe’s familial seat lovingly restoring and running the place, because if there is one thing sheltered and inexperienced 17 year olds are good at, it’s interior design and/or estate management. Claire shows up on Westcliffe’s doorstep, he treats her in a humiliating fashion that nonetheless arouses her, and she makes her case. Claire would like to give her sister a London Season to save her from marrying an old coot. Westcliffe consents. Helped significantly by the aforementioned canine demise, their marriage of convenience transforms into one of genuine affection. A bunch of unnecessary machinations and a head-shaving interrupt the merry denouement, but the happily ever after is eventually achieved.

I have one more Lorraine Heath novel on hold through my library and then I will have read a large portion of her catalogue. Her writing is entertaining and she can give good smolder, but there is nothing that elevates her books from the B-list to the A-list; moreover, she often has elements that are too much of a throwback for books published within the last ten years and they disrupt my really very willing suspension of disbelief.

Also by Lorraine Heath:

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Written in My Own Heart’s Blood, book eight in Diana Gabaldon historical epic Outlander series,  picks up exactly where the last book, An Echo in the Bone, left off. It could be read as a standalone novel, but why would you want to do that? Gabaldon belongs to that rarefied group of authors who create an entire world and tell a story that takes thousands of pages to unfold. Such authors’ works need to be devoured and savoured in their entirety to achieve their full effect.

Written in My Own Heart’s Blood  was a particularly enjoyable entry in the series and (mostly) moved along quickly. The story is rich in detail and often harrowing. I made many interesting happy and unhappy noises while reading. If you are already reading the novels, you won’t need a plot summary, although Gabaldon is remarkably adept at thumbnail sketches of where things stand, and if you haven’t read the books, you really should go back and start at book one. You will either love it or give up quickly. Despite my disclaimer, here is a brief recap of Written in My Own Heart’s Blood: Claire and Jamie Fraser and their extended family are living in Philadelphia at the beginning of the American Revolutionary War. They are drawn into the fight and participate in historical events. In Scotland, their daughter and son-in-law, Bree and Roger, are dealing with complications in their own lives.

The Outlander books are wonderfully entertaining and fascinating works of historical fiction. Gabaldon excels at drawing vivid characters and at incorporating what must be years of research into her characters’ lives. I revel in all of the historical details, including the genuine political events of the time, and, particularly, the practical considerations of their daily existences and Claire’s work as a physician. There is so much I love about this series, not least of which is that, by this point, the main character is a 60 year old woman. There may be eight point of view characters, but these books are Claire’s story and I love every kind, no-nonsense, resolute inch of her character. Her husband, Jamie, who will “ruin you for all other fictional men”, is by her side and an ideal partner for Claire.

Series book lists after the jump:

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It’s 1858, Mercy Dawson and her bastard son have been brought to the family home of Stephen Lyons. Appalled by her conduct, her father abandons her there. Thinking Stephen dead, Mercy is hoping that in bringing his son to his aristocratic family, they will let her stay on as nanny. She just wants to be with her child, but quickly learns that Stephen is very much alive and in rough shape. Pleasures of a Notorious Gentleman follows the development of their relationship and the marriage of convenience that ensues. Everyone is lying, so it’s a little complicated.

Stephen and Mercy each spent two years in the Crimean War. He was a commissioned officer and she was a nurse. They first met when he was wounded early in his tour and they formed a friendship. Wounded again, Stephen returned to the ward, but this time when he woke up his memory was blank. He has blocked out every second of his wartime experience. It is a blessing and a curse. Mercy remembers everything about her time struggling against horrifying conditions and despair, including the woman who had Stephen’s child and abandoned him to her. It’s a lovely plot and character detail that she remembers too much, he remembers too little, and they are both traumatized.

I enjoyed a great deal of this historical romance. Mercy’s strength and profound love for her adopted child make her instantly likeable. Stephen was a rake of the “I love’em and leave’em, but they know the rules going in” type before the war. He joined the army to give himself a purpose in life and acquitted himself honourably, but is still lost because of his memory issues.  Pleasures of a Notorious Gentleman kept me interested and entertained, but it did start to drag in the last third. Like all of Lorraine Heath’s romances, most of it was a better than average and the relationship felt sincere. Heath is still on my B-list and I doubt that will change; however, I wanted to address this:

“There was the true tragedy of his affliction. On the street, he might run into someone who had saved his life — and Stephen would ignore him because he wouldn’t recognize him. He should buy him a drink. Hell, he should buy him a woman. And instead, he would casually stroll by as though the man were nothing.”

“HE SHOULD BUY HIM A WOMAN”?

Ms. Heath, you have got to be joking. In a book written by a woman for women, historical romance or not, you insult your readership by writing about them as something that should be bought as a thank you gesture. “I can’t think what to give him as a present. Should it be a shot of whiskey, perhaps funds for his family, or maybe a person he can exploit to satisfy his urges? Oh, that’s perfect. I’ll buy him a woman!” Jesus H. Christ, I found that offensive. The romance genre is about a woman’s right to self-determination, except, apparently, for those ones over there who are just whores. How is that different from the men who attacked Mercy when she was working as a nurse? Especially after the narrative repeatedly mentions that Stephen loves and respects women.  Is it different because of financially motivated consent? Women who are “no better than they should be” really bother me in these books. Even in a wish-fulfillment genre, I reject the happy hooker trope. I can live with the mistresses, but I really don’t want to encounter the male fantasy of prostitutes eager for sex or as inconsequential receptacles in fiction for women.

Also by Lorraine Heath:

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