I wonder if we're going to see the re-emergence of Regency romance novels sans sex.
Post Austen/Heyer there were Regency category romances, and they emulated A/H. So no sex. But they died in the 90s just as the historical Regency romance took off. Amanda Quick* started writing these longer, steamy-riffic Regencies, and these days that's all you can find. Authors like Loretta Chase still write the light, witty sort of stuff, but there has to be lotsa sex. (She used to write category Regency, so I guess she made the transition.)
I don't dislike the sex books, but they have a completely different tone than the Heyer type books. Completely outrageous things happen in these books. They're modern people in a Regency setting, with modern morals, and a modern way of talking. I might enjoy the characters, but I don't feel transported to a different universe. For example I'm reading a romance about an 18 year old who pretends to be a guy's mistress at a weekend orgy. In Heyer's Regency (and I'm pretty sure real life), never, never in a million years would a well brought up young man bring a similarly brought up young woman to an orgy. It's insane. But her character is super cute, so it's fine. I'm enjoying the book.
But sex relieves romantic tension. "No kissing til the last chapter" tends to recreate what it's like to be falling for someone and not knowing if they like you back. O the torture of it all! If you're going to have sex with someone, well, clearly there's some interest there. In order to keep the tension going, the stakes have to be raised in other ways. Heyer has some books where The Kiss happens halfway through, cause there's a mystery to carry the novel the rest of the way. In modern novels, things usually go nuttier than that. Spies and supa-adventures and massive misunderstandings and break downs and family drama.
I don't dislike the current Regency historicals, I just want to see more variety. That's why I enjoyed Jude Morgan's Indiscretion so much. Finally someone writing in the old Austen-Heyer tradition. Right now Goodreads is taking votes for the best books of 2012, and in amongst the usual suspects of erotica, semi-erotica, and paranormal was Edenbrooke.
I'd never heard of it, but it's just a Regency novel without the sex. It is published by Blue Mountain who are owned by a Mormon publishing group, so I assume this isn't where the next great gay romance is going to come from--but I gather it also is not a Christian Romance ("inspirational romance" as it's called). But Edenbrooke was published under a new line that will be dedicated to "clean" romances.
I don't care for this "clean" terminology, cause I don't think sex is morally dirty; but I do hope that the popularity of this book means we'll be seeing this sub-genre of romance re-emerge.
____
There were bodice rippers before Quick, but I think the popularity of her style led to historicals being overwhelmingly set in the Regency, as opposed to the United States, pirate ships, etc.
QUOTE OF THE NOW
"Our life evokes our character. You find out more about yourself as you go on. That's why it's good to be able to put yourself in situations that will evoke your higher nature rather than your lower. 'Lead us not into temptation.'" Joseph Campbell
Showing posts with label Jane Austen. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jane Austen. Show all posts
Wednesday, November 28, 2012
Thursday, May 10, 2012
The lost co-authored novel of Austen and Heyer!
I haven't written yet tonight! Because I was reading my book and hit that unputdownable mark. I have to highly recommend this book, if you're a fan of Jane Austen and Georgette Heyer. It's as though they discovered notes to an unwritten Austen novel, and gave them to Heyer to write. In other words, like the author's own style and not a knock off Austen imitation. (Like that horrid horrid hilariously bad Austen novel by Colleen McCullough. Be sure to read my review of that one!)
It's called Indiscretion by Jude Morgan. (Yes--a man!) About a down on her luck woman who takes a post as a lady's companion, and then bla bla bla scandal romance witty banter. I don't want to say more and spoiler it. But really, if you've read all of Austen's books and you're all "Why why aren't their more?" then give this one a try.
Here are some of my favorite lines--they're not spoilers.
It is plainly Mrs Catling's pleasure to pin her acquaintances like so many butterflies, and there is nothing to be gained by wriggling.
"And now over there is a gentleman who should not wear tight pantaloons. You will see when he turns around. There. That is why."
"...soon dinner will run into bed-time, and we shall all eat reclining like the ancient Romans--about whose digestion, you know, I have often wondered. Whether a dose of rhubabrb might have made a difference to Nero or Caligula is a question you might ponder, my dear, next time you go through your Tacitus."
I must try to be charitable, Caroline thought: probably she doesn't mean to sound as if she is continually translating from Latin.
"Very well." Matthew gave her such a hurt, wistful, nobly forbearing, and absolutely infuriating look that if Caroline had been a rich aunt she would have cut him out of her will on the spot.
He peered gloomily into a folio of maps. "I always think Brazil is too big."
"We are always parting! It's supposed to be sweet sorrow or something, isn't it? Those poets. They'll say anything."
"I found out when I went away from Wythorpe the first time in November--remember? How nice it is to rhyme, I must do it all the time."
"I have been run over by the speeding chariot of fate, caught up in its spiked wheels." - "I hate it when that happens," said Stephen.
It's called Indiscretion by Jude Morgan. (Yes--a man!) About a down on her luck woman who takes a post as a lady's companion, and then bla bla bla scandal romance witty banter. I don't want to say more and spoiler it. But really, if you've read all of Austen's books and you're all "Why why aren't their more?" then give this one a try.
Here are some of my favorite lines--they're not spoilers.
It is plainly Mrs Catling's pleasure to pin her acquaintances like so many butterflies, and there is nothing to be gained by wriggling.
"And now over there is a gentleman who should not wear tight pantaloons. You will see when he turns around. There. That is why."
"...soon dinner will run into bed-time, and we shall all eat reclining like the ancient Romans--about whose digestion, you know, I have often wondered. Whether a dose of rhubabrb might have made a difference to Nero or Caligula is a question you might ponder, my dear, next time you go through your Tacitus."
I must try to be charitable, Caroline thought: probably she doesn't mean to sound as if she is continually translating from Latin.
"Very well." Matthew gave her such a hurt, wistful, nobly forbearing, and absolutely infuriating look that if Caroline had been a rich aunt she would have cut him out of her will on the spot.
He peered gloomily into a folio of maps. "I always think Brazil is too big."
"We are always parting! It's supposed to be sweet sorrow or something, isn't it? Those poets. They'll say anything."
"I found out when I went away from Wythorpe the first time in November--remember? How nice it is to rhyme, I must do it all the time."
"I have been run over by the speeding chariot of fate, caught up in its spiked wheels." - "I hate it when that happens," said Stephen.
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Writing With Honesty (I sawed a play)
Not really wild, just up and about, so I haven't been blogging. I've never been to my city's Fringe theatre festival but an old coworker was stage managing a play and I wanted to go see it. So Fernando and I made it a date.
The play was excellenty! A one-woman show about a woman whose grandmother's fiancé was away on business when it was discovered she was pregnant. It was inconceivable that such a good girl could be pregnant, so the family decided that she'd had an immaculate conception. And this was the family mythology. One day our heroine has a crisis and she sets out to pop the family's myth-balloon.
It's pretty much a true story. Fernando wanted to see it again the next night, and we met Di Cesare's mother after. She said 90% of it was true. The play was funny, and moving, and confirmed one of my beliefs--that sometimes there's nothing wrong with believing myths.
The author-actress also made herself very vulnerable, which I think explains much of the power of the piece, and her budding success. Made herself vulnerable to the audience, and to her family--she exposed some secrets, and had to wrestle with whether those secrets were even hers' to expose. Was it necessary to the piece or just being ... artsy?
As we were public-transporting to and from downtown I just happened to be reading chapter 3 of the Betsy Lerner book on writers, which is exactly about this topic of writers and how far they're willing to mine their personal lives/truths for their work:
I love that. Good child. Maybe the advice isn't super applicable when writing soufflés, as Stephen Fry described Wodehouse, but it eventually leads Lerner (via Cocteau) to this bold bit of advice that's applicable to any artist:
Other than that, we were near trendy St-Denis street so we...
had vegan Thai food at Chu Chai on Saturday
and on Sunday we tried dukkah for the first time at Piazzetta (looks like ooh zee French Montreal café experience! but it's a chain restaurant - dukkah was delicious though)


and poked around in super cutesy dessert gourmet shop (shoppe!)
I did have one teeeeeny tiny complaint with the play. It was full of literary references because the author's a big reader, and at one point she and her new boyfriend have a disagreement about whether Jane Austen in smut. And in the end she agrees that: Jane Austen is the equivalent of dime-store romance novel smut for repressed British women.
Ooooh that kind of sexist prejudice against romance novel and romance readers makes my blood boil, and I don't even read a lot of them. Having worked in a bookstore for 15 years I've seen that people automatically denigrate an entire genre solely because it is largely written by and about women, and about emotions and love, which are associated with women. That is sexist. And these opinions are expressed without the person having any knowledge of the genre. And they make the most horrible assumptions about who the readers are, when I know that, not only is it the #1 most read genre on the planet, sometimes read subversively by women of other cultures, but it's also read by women from teen age to 90s, from little education to PhDs, from home makers to CEOs. And yes, by women with great sex lives, as well as women with none. If someone ever wants to actually think in an educated fashion on the topic, they can start with Jennifer Crusie's academic essays.
And to write a play that's all about honoring women, and then to have a joke that denigrates not only one of the greatest women writers, but one of the novel form's greatest originators, who had to write under a pseudonym her whole life because it was so shameful for a middle class woman to be a writer in those days, when one of the themes of the play is about shame... ??
And though there is nothing wrong about writing about love, Jane Austen was also writing about the narrow choices women had in her day, their circumscribed lives, about how much they still did within those narrow confines, about how vulnerable they were to men, about their variety, about her neighbors, the communities she saw all around her... she was writing about women's lives, just like Di Cesare. Ooooooohhhhh!!!!! Makes me want to scrunch up my little face and have a tantrum.
Ahem. But that was the only thing I didn't like. ;-)
The play was excellenty! A one-woman show about a woman whose grandmother's fiancé was away on business when it was discovered she was pregnant. It was inconceivable that such a good girl could be pregnant, so the family decided that she'd had an immaculate conception. And this was the family mythology. One day our heroine has a crisis and she sets out to pop the family's myth-balloon.
It's pretty much a true story. Fernando wanted to see it again the next night, and we met Di Cesare's mother after. She said 90% of it was true. The play was funny, and moving, and confirmed one of my beliefs--that sometimes there's nothing wrong with believing myths.
The author-actress also made herself very vulnerable, which I think explains much of the power of the piece, and her budding success. Made herself vulnerable to the audience, and to her family--she exposed some secrets, and had to wrestle with whether those secrets were even hers' to expose. Was it necessary to the piece or just being ... artsy?
As we were public-transporting to and from downtown I just happened to be reading chapter 3 of the Betsy Lerner book on writers, which is exactly about this topic of writers and how far they're willing to mine their personal lives/truths for their work:
As a young editor I was drawn to writers who went out on an emotional ledge. ... Conversely, when I read a relatively well-written manuscript that made no particular impression (which would describe most of the manuscripts editors evaluate), I couldn't help thinking, Good child. ... In order to tell the truth (and I don't mean what happened in "real life" in any conventional sense, but the emotional truth), to raise what is only hinted at, the writer would have had to risk his place at the table, which is too threatening.
I love that. Good child. Maybe the advice isn't super applicable when writing soufflés, as Stephen Fry described Wodehouse, but it eventually leads Lerner (via Cocteau) to this bold bit of advice that's applicable to any artist:
I think Cocteau had the right idea when he said, "Listen carefully to first criticisms made of your work. Note just what it is about your work that the critics don't like and cultivate it. That's the only part your work that's individual and worth keeping." Throw off the shackles of approval, of wanting to be liked. The minute you capitulate to changing even a single adjective to please someone else, or choose one adjective over another to protect a person's feelings, you pull the plug on your own respirator. ... [Phillip Roth] realizing he had touched a live wire [with his first book], went for the socket with his future books.Lerner's book is a ton of le fun to read.
Other than that, we were near trendy St-Denis street so we...
had vegan Thai food at Chu Chai on Saturday
and on Sunday we tried dukkah for the first time at Piazzetta (looks like ooh zee French Montreal café experience! but it's a chain restaurant - dukkah was delicious though)


and poked around in super cutesy dessert gourmet shop (shoppe!)
I did have one teeeeeny tiny complaint with the play. It was full of literary references because the author's a big reader, and at one point she and her new boyfriend have a disagreement about whether Jane Austen in smut. And in the end she agrees that: Jane Austen is the equivalent of dime-store romance novel smut for repressed British women.
Ooooh that kind of sexist prejudice against romance novel and romance readers makes my blood boil, and I don't even read a lot of them. Having worked in a bookstore for 15 years I've seen that people automatically denigrate an entire genre solely because it is largely written by and about women, and about emotions and love, which are associated with women. That is sexist. And these opinions are expressed without the person having any knowledge of the genre. And they make the most horrible assumptions about who the readers are, when I know that, not only is it the #1 most read genre on the planet, sometimes read subversively by women of other cultures, but it's also read by women from teen age to 90s, from little education to PhDs, from home makers to CEOs. And yes, by women with great sex lives, as well as women with none. If someone ever wants to actually think in an educated fashion on the topic, they can start with Jennifer Crusie's academic essays.
And to write a play that's all about honoring women, and then to have a joke that denigrates not only one of the greatest women writers, but one of the novel form's greatest originators, who had to write under a pseudonym her whole life because it was so shameful for a middle class woman to be a writer in those days, when one of the themes of the play is about shame... ??
And though there is nothing wrong about writing about love, Jane Austen was also writing about the narrow choices women had in her day, their circumscribed lives, about how much they still did within those narrow confines, about how vulnerable they were to men, about their variety, about her neighbors, the communities she saw all around her... she was writing about women's lives, just like Di Cesare. Ooooooohhhhh!!!!! Makes me want to scrunch up my little face and have a tantrum.
Ahem. But that was the only thing I didn't like. ;-)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)