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05 July 2009 @ 11:08 pm
#30  
Faro's Daughter, Georgette Heyer

I often feel that reading Heyer is much like eating a whole bag of marshmallows in one sitting. Afterwards, you don't feel full, but you do feel slightly sick, as well as extremely guilty. Especially when you're on a diet of hardcore literature. Sometimes, though? You just want a goddamn marshmallow.



As usual, the timeline of the book bothered me. What difference did it make to Heyer to have Phoebe and Adrian know each other for a week or a month, except that a month is more believable a timespan for the development of marriageable love? I suppose being married to a goose might have made Adrian more manly, but it still doesn't wash with me. As for Max - did Heyer press these middle-aged, grim, tight-fisted heros out of a mold? I swear I've seen him a dozen times before in different guises.

It would have been approximately ten times as interesting if Deborah were the patroness of a real gaming hell. Or indeed, if she were such a creature as she pretended to be at Vauxhall. Oh well.

"I should like to strangle the abominable creature!"
"Unfortunately, the laws of this land preclude your pursuing that admirable course."


This exchange gave me hope that this was another Cotillion or The Grand Sophy. Such hopes were swiftly dashed.



Previously, on Book Glomp 2009:
He Knew He Was Right, Anthony Trollope |The Bostonians, Henry James | For Whom the Bell Tolls, Ernest Hemingway | For Esme - with Love and Squalor, JD Salinger | The Outsider, Albert Camus | The Princess Diaries: Ten out of Ten, Meg Cabot | The Vicar of Bullhampton, Anthony Trollope | Molesworth, Geoffrey Willans | Villette, Charlotte Bronte | The Portrait of a Lady, Henry James | The Way of All Flesh, Samuel Butler | Cecilia, Fanny Burney | The Catcher in the Rye, JD Salinger | The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie, Muriel Spark | Breakfast of Champions, Kurt Vonnegut | Valley of the Dolls, Jacqueline Susann | Siddhartha, Herman Hesse | The White Tiger, Aravind Adiga | The Duke and I, Julia Quinn | Brave New World, Aldous Huxley | North and South, Elizabeth Gaskell | Cider with Rosie, Laurie Lee | Catch-22, Joseph Heller | Bright Shiny Morning, James Frey | Of Mice and Men, John Steinbeck | The Demon's Lexicon, Sarah Rees Brennan | The Age of Innocence, Edith Wharton | jPod, Douglas Coupland | 'Are these my basoomas I see before me?', Louise Rennison |
 
 
 
jehnt: bsg - tighsjehnt on July 5th, 2009 10:44 pm (UTC)
I am in the middle of Heyer's... Cotillion, maybe? If that's the one where some girl who is the adopted daughter of some old dude has to pretend to be engaged to one of his nephews in order to try to get her inheritance, or something. I can't read too much of it at a time though because I have it for the kindle and whoever formatted it neglected proper paragraph breaks, so I have to be ready for that when I read. It's decent so far, I suppose.
every Starbucks should have a polar bear: collapsingnight odds&endsscoradh on July 5th, 2009 10:51 pm (UTC)
Yup, that's Cotillion! You have to basically read the whole thing before you get why it's awesome. Or maybe have read all her other books first (my mom has practically her entire collection). She's more miss than hit, so I generally only read her when I need mind candy - but like all chicklit, you have to have read lots of dross to appreciate the gold. :D

Edited at 2009-07-05 10:51 pm (UTC)
Snakelingsnakeling on July 5th, 2009 11:38 pm (UTC)
My fave is Venetia. The plot is nothing to write home about, but the banter is full of wit and erudition, in a way very similar to Lord Peter and Harriet, especially in Gaudy Night/Busman's Honeymoon.
Trinity Daytrinityday on July 6th, 2009 01:52 am (UTC)
I actually don't know who Heyer is, but I just have to say how much I love your review analogy.
she's not a girl who misses much: umbrellamaudlinrose on July 6th, 2009 06:02 am (UTC)
See, I adore Heyer, and I am totally of the opinion that she pushed her heros out of a mold (she pretty much admitted so in letters to her publisher). I am someone for whom Heyer is hardcore literature, though.

I also—like, Heyer obviously wrote fluffy romance; she never enjoyed much critical acclaim; from her biography you get the distinct impression that she didn't think much of her own writing. But her first novels were written almost 90 years ago and they're still in print and still funny, and I just wish that she got compared to, say, Wodehouse and Chesterton rather than Quinn and Quick and Cabot. I'm not sure how she'd stack up, but. /rant