The Convenient Marriage

- by Georgette Heyer

 
 A fun "Georgian Romp" well worth reading!

Fun, well-written, and refreshingly comedic, I thoroughly enjoyed The Convenient Marriage. It was everything I hoped it would be and, while lacking in the deep-thinking department, it more than made up for it in wit and humor. 

At the outset of the story we are introduced to the eldest Winwood daughter, Elizabeth - a beauty of of noble birth, yet virtually penniless. At the prodding of her well-intentioned mother, Elizabeth is about to turn her back on her true love, Captain Heron, and marry a complete stranger, the Earl of Rule, solely for his vast wealth. However...

Enter: Horatia ("Horry") Winwood, Elizabeth's younger rebellious sister. Though rather young and uncouth, as well as stuttering and stubborn, Horry decides to save her sister from a loveless match! After much scheming, and to her elder sister's relief, Horry eventually takes her her position as the Countess of Rule. The Earl accepts the swap, but not without 'enduring' the adventure and hair-brained antics that ensue, involving the Countess herself, Pelham (the Winwood's congenial gambling brother) and his drinking buddy.

The Convenient Marriage literally brims with witty dialogue and interesting back-and-forths, with well-drawn characters and a quickly moving, easy-to-follow plot. The ending, albeit predictable, will satisfy any romantic at heart.

This was my first Heyer experience - I was so charmed by it that I *know* it won't be my last. :)

Kristin Lavransdatter

- by Sigrid Undset, Tiina Nunnally (Translator)


As much as I was interested in this detailed life-epic, I must admit the story was not a good 'fit' for me. Not that it lacked a lot of things that make for great story telling, but perhaps it failed to captivate me due to the fact that I could not relate to the main character. I can see why some may be captivated by Kristin's story and inner battles. I can see this novel appealing to those with children (or those with a "maternal instinct"), as they will better be able to understand most of Kristin's plight as a parent throughout the majority of the story.

Perhaps it was also the translation into English that made the book lackluster to me. I felt the text lacked a lot of feeling, and was written a little too "matter of factly" for my taste. No doubt the original manuscript, in Norwegian language, was much more rich and engrossing.

As I cannot give this trilogy a stellar review for the aforementioned reasons, I have given it 3 stars for all the intriguing information I learned about life in 14th-century Norway.

The Little Giant of Aberdeen County

- by Tiffany Baker

Meet Truly Plaice - the ‘little giant’ of a backwater town in Aberdeen County. Born with a pituitary gland disorder, acromegaly, Truly grows exponentially as the months and years pass; a far cry from her sister Serena Jane’s delicate prettiness. "Growing up", quite rapidly in Truly's case, adds to her misery as she endures ridicule and misunderstanding at the hands of her peers and family members, and is treated as little more than a carnival sideshow by community members. Despite her illness, and the many heartaches she has to endure as a result of it, she gradually makes her mark on the little community, battling issues of morality, love and choice. Truly rises to the occasion with a height of character to match her dimensions.

While an interesting concept, Little Giant is one of those books that could leave a reader indifferent when the last page is turned. While selections near the beginning of the book hold interest and are quite well-written (apart from a few minor inconsistencies in the story), the cast and storyline gradually lose their luster after only one third of the way through, almost appearing as though the author’s interest in them wanes as the stagnant plot trudges its way to its somewhat unmoving conclusion. The characters, who held such promise at the outset, ultimately fall flat and fail to affect; not even the unlikely heroine, Truly, can salvage the story.

Readers may also be frustrated by Baker’s wording, which oftentimes tends to be overly protracted with many unnecessarily padded descriptions, which do nothing to advance the story or develop the characters.

While this book has many winning aspects to it, they simply are not capable of tipping the scales. Unfortunately, not a particularly satisfying read.

Little Dorrit

-by Charles Dickens

1820's rags-to-riches tale, Dickens style

Where most books develop one puzzle piece at a time, Dickens' novels are comprised of large pieces that are gradually deconstructed into tiny individual parts, scattered with wild abandon, and then slowly reconstructed methodically until the final puzzle is complete. Little Dorrit is no exception to this Dickensian template.

A sardonic social lampoon and a searing satire at bureaucracy’s expense, Little Dorrit serves as Dickens’ analysis of society at the time and yet still retains a quiet dignity and undercurrent of a more psychological application.

This Dickensian classic explores imprisonment of both the literal and symbolic genre. Broken into two separate books – “Poverty” and “Riches” – the novel explores life from two different sides of London’s dreaded Marshalsea debtor prison’s walls.

Upon Arthur Clennam’s return to England after several years abroad in China, he meets and develops a benevolent interest in Amy Dorrit, the quiet diminutive seamstress of his embittered mother. Born within the Marshalsea prison walls, “Little Dorrit” as she is affectionately dubbed, patiently cares for her aging father, William Dorrit - a gentleman of past grandeur, long incarcerated for a debt he cannot repay. As Clennam becomes further acquainted with the Dorrits, he realizes his own mother holds a long-held secret regarding the Clennam's connection with the Dorrit family. Arthur also recalls mysterious fragmentary utterances by his dying father, desperately begging him to ‘make things right’ with the Dorrit family, for reasons unspoken. In light of this, Clennam takes it upon himself to investigate further into the imprisoned family’s history. It’s not long before he discovers that the dark secrets of the past stretch far beyond the prison walls to affect the lives of many, including his own.

As with any Dickens’ novel, it wouldn’t seem complete without its typical array of capricious stereotypical characters, from the likes of the excitable snorting rent-collector Mr. Pancks; the cranky crooked manservant Mr. Flintwinch; to the taciturn Flora Finching; the bureaucratic Barnacles in the unscrupulous Circumlocution Office; and the blatantly villainous but charismatic Monsieur Rigaud (with no less than three French aliases), whose hooked nose ventures over his mustache every time he utters a sinister laugh – a frequent occurrence.

Still, Little Dorrit defies categorization. Simultaneously a tragedy, comedy, social commentary, satire and mystery, it is a puzzle that, when solved, resolves itself to be an allegory of love itself, and the emphasis of personal responsibility. The novel is also a testimony to that rarest strength of character which ultimately remains untainted by status and situation in life, whether it be riches or poverty. It is observable to anyone familiar with Dickens' biography that the book draws intimately on the author's own troubled childhood, when his own father was imprisoned for three months in the Marshalsea debtor’s prison.

Granted, without rapt concentration, readers will easily be lost in the exuberant sprawl of its 800+ pages, but will find that it is well worth the effort.

The House at Riverton

-by Kate Morton

a pleasant middling read, but nothing more

In the winter years of her life, 98-year-old Grace looks back on her past. Bound by society's early 20th century conventions as a misbegotten child, 14-year-old Grace was sent to be a servant in the 'big house' at Riverton. Fast-forward to the year 1999 - the production of a film is in progress regarding a tragic death that occurred at the house. The elderly Grace is asked to recollect any snippets of memories that would add to the film's authenticity and thus she begins to recount her memoirs of the event surrounding that time period. She also records more forthright details for her grandson; a final task she sets before herself, prior to her death.

Footslogging at a snail-pace at the outset, any impatience will be appeased when the slow-developing plot gradually quickens, culminating in a somewhat predictable and "tied up neatly with a bow" conclusion. Worthy of note is Morton's obvious research that went into the book and her uncanny ability to evoke the past. The candid glimpse into the sub-hierarchy goings on "below stairs" in the realm of servants, butlers and maids was nothing fresh, but certainly intriguing.

The characters in The House at Riverton failed to resonate, save the elderly narrator, Grace, who was particularly well developed. Grace, alone, had a richness, a realness, that you truly were drawn to - not merely as a geriatric caricature but as a living breathing person that you could almost touch. The ultimate "revelation" about Grace's origins wasn't a surprise. The drawn-out painstaking way this truth was realized by the lead character was irritating and detracted from the rest of the story.

A book like this would suit someone looking for a light, but entertaining, weekend read. Think Remains of the Day and Upstairs, Downstairs, sans remarkableness. Enjoyable, interesting, yet insubstantial - nothing that which would warrant a repeat perusal.

The Architect's Brother

The Architect's Brother
-by Robert Parkeharrison

My Rating: 5 / 5

As beautiful as it is poignant!

They say a picture is worth a thousand words...this book proves that proverb true, without a doubt. Parkeharrison's haunting photos tell a story all of their own. By far my most favorite coffee table book that takes my breath away every time I open its cover.

The Blue Castle

The Blue Castle
-by Lucy Maud Montgomery

My Rating: 5 / 5

Best remembered for her well-loved red-headed heroine, Anne of Green Gables, Lucy Maud Montgomery's understated more 'grown up' novel, The Blue Castle, deserves equal, if not a higher echelon of praise. An invigorating exercise in general satire, The Blue Castle's characterization borders on Dickens-like caricature as Montgomery introduces an array of amusing, egotistical and decidedly silly relatives of the heroine, Valancy Stirling.

Social and familial pressures have combined to deny the sensitive 29-year-old the simple joys of youth. An overbearing pious mother and dour hypocritical relatives, who attempt to elevate themselves to local aristocracy, deliberately snuff out any spark of happiness that could make its way into Valancy's life.

She secretly finds solace in her daydreams of her 'Blue Castle' - a fantasy world she retreats to, where she is adored and happy; and the nature books penned by John Foster, a popular (but mysteriously unknown) author who writes about the poetic beauty of Canada's wilderness. Little does she know her life is about to change, on the receipt of a letter from her doctor, and that her Blue Castle will soon be within reach.

As the heroine herself undergoes a complete metamorphosis due to major life-changing events, so the plot takes the reader around one exciting bend after another. It is a pure delight to read and is sure to become a fast favorite of any reader that delves beyond the tasteless cover and insipid synopsis on the back of the book. The Blue Castle is truly one of L.M. Montgomery's greatest works that you will want to share with others!