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Young Elizabeth: The Making of our Queen

29 May

I’m not really caught up in the Jubilee excitement yet, which is a bit peculiar as I usually love that sort of thing. I’ve started eyeing up Jubilee mugs, tins and tea towels though so perhaps it’s just about to hit me and we’ll be buried beneath a landslide of commemorative ware by the end of the week.

One thing that I have bought is the latest Kate Williams book about the Queen, which like her earlier book Becoming Queen about the young Queen Victoria, focusses on the early life of Elizabeth II, arguing that it is the upbringing and youth of a monarch that determines what sort of ruler they will be become. I’m not sure that this is entirely true but it’s a nice theory and gives us an excuse for a really detailed look at the often ignored or skated over formative years of queenly figures.

Young Elizabeth: The Making of our Queen is, not entirely unexpectedly, an engrossing read and carries the reader from the childhood of the Queen’s awkward father Bertie through her childhood as the adored pet of the usually formidable George V and Queen Mary, on through her adolescence during the Second World War and then romance with the dashing naval officer Prince Philip to her glorious Coronation in 1953, giving us a potted social history of the country along the way from the often rather limited point of view of the Royal Family. It’s a fascinating tale of unrequited love, badly behaved Kings, revolution, war and dogs and although academic enough not to feel patronising, is also on the right side of gossipy so you don’t feel sullied by reading it. Don’t you find that you feel a bit grubby after reading some biographies of the Royal Family?

This isn’t whitewashed though – the pre-marital romantic interludes of both George VI and Prince Philip are dealt with in a matter of fact way and the relationship of Edward VIII and Wallis Simpson isn’t romanticised at all, with Wallis coming across as a rather nasty piece of work in this book. What is really touching though is the way that Williams discusses the romance of Princess Margaret and Peter Townsend – how very sad it must have been. There’s a mention too of Margaret creeping through the side doors of Buckingham Palace that made me laugh as my grandfather used to do guard duty there and at Clarence House and saw Elizabeth, Philip and Margaret all the time. He apparently saw Princess Margaret fall drunkenly out of a taxi on at least one occasion. She was superb.

Other anecdotes that I really enjoyed included the abdicated Edward VIII sitting by the radio listening to his brother’s Coronation in his place while calmly knitting a blue jumper for his Wallis; Prince Philip taking to the sofa at Treetops in despair when he heard the news of his wife’s accession to the throne and draping a copy of the Times over his face and Queen Mary’s unhappiness at having to return to London to ‘be Queen Mary again’ after her time in the countryside during World War Two. There are snippets like this all through the book, some of which are well known but others that were fairly new to me.

Above all though this book really brings to life the character of Elizabeth the young Queen and paints a touching and vivid picture of a serious, rather shy, good humoured and above all dutiful girl who adored animals and her family and felt betrayal (particularly that of her once favourite uncle David and then former governess Crawfie) very very keenly. Her careful and rather infantilising upbringing was a stark contrast to that enjoyed by her grandchildren now – her parents didn’t want her to appear too ‘intellectual’ (the opportunity to have an honorary degree from Cambridge was turned down as they didn’t want people to perceive her as a bit of a bluestocking) so her education was surprisingly rudimentary all things considered. She also shared a room with Princess Margaret and wore matching clothes until well into her teens and at an age when she ought to have been enjoying coming out balls was still considered part of the nursery.

I think this is underlined by the fact that she was fourteen when she made her famous address to the children of the Commonwealth in 1940, but sounds much much younger. ‘We know, everyone of us, that in the end all will be well; for God will care for us and give us victory and peace. And when peace comes, remember it will be for us, the children of today, to make the world of tomorrow a better and happier place. My sister is by my side and we are both going to say goodnight to you. Come on, Margaret. Goodnight, children. Goodnight, and good luck to you all.

Oh man, that makes me cry every time. I’m actually sitting here with a little tear snaking down my cheek. I can’t even begin to imagine how people at the time must have felt to hear that. When US soldiers came to the UK during the war they were instructed that under no circumstances whatsoever should they EVER say anything critical about the King, Queen and Princesses. Times have changed and not always for the best, but it can be hard in these cynical times to recall that there was a point when we absolutely and fervently adored our Royal Family. It’s amazing that when Elizabeth got engaged to Prince Philip, several thousand young women, many of whom were also brides to be, sent her some of their precious clothing rations to put towards her dress. They all had to be returned as transferring rations was illegal but even so, would we do that today? I’d like to think that we would.

I also love that amongst the couple’s splendid wedding gifts there was two burnt pieces of toast sent by a pair of sisters who burned their precious bread ration as they were so excited by the news of the royal engagement being announced on the radio and promptly sent the burned pieces with their congratulations to the palace.

Anyway, I definitely recommend this book to anyone interested in the Queen and in particular her youth. It’s a great read.

One thing I will say though is that I read it on Kindle (downloaded from Amazon) and was really annoyed by how badly edited it was – it felt at times as if the Kindle version had been put together before any editing had even happened as there were occasional words, sentences and even, I believe, entire passages completely missing so I had to keep rereading paragraphs to try and make sense of them. There was also some pretty dodgy grammar – I know I take liberties here but you don’t pay to read this and I do most of it deliberately. I don’t blame the author at all for any of this but feel that her publisher has let her down a bit.

However, all this aside, I’d definitely still recommend this book.

Young Elizabeth the Making of Our Queen

Wallis – Rebecca Dean

22 May

As regular readers of this blog will perhaps recall I absolutely loved Rebecca Dean’s book The Golden Prince but was rather less keen on Palace Circle, despite really wanting to love it. I’m pleased to say though that her latest novel Wallis, which is a sort of follow up to The Golden Prince is a smasher and I pretty much gobbled it up.

Rebecca Dean was onto a winner though from the outset as Wallis, unsurprisingly as the clue is in the title, tells the story of the early life of Bessie Wallis Warfield and follows her through her really quite painfully unstable upbringing with her ‘flighty’ and impecunious mother; her subsequent abusive and really horrible first marriage to the handsome but really dreadful Win Spencer and then rather un-thrilling second one to nice but slightly dull Ernest Simpson. Now whatever people think about Wallis Simpson, and let’s face it she does tend to polarise opinion somewhat, one thing is for sure – she remains perennially fascinating and this novel brings her to life superbly.

As I’ve mentioned here before, I’m never sure what I think of Wallis but became much more sympathetic to her after reading Anne Sebba’s book That Woman, although I didn’t agree with some of the medical and psychological assessments that were made within its pages. I am very pleased therefore that Rebecca Dean’s novel also portrays a very sympathetic and likeable Wallis that I think is fairly true to life. She’s not perfect by any means but definitely not the ruthless, hard hearted socialite of popular imagining. What comes across is a courageous, fun loving, warm hearted, vibrant but also desperately insecure and rather snobbish young woman who hides her battered heart beneath a brittle veneer of chatter and bold faced bravado. I rather loved her.

The main crux of the book is an imagined friendship between Wallis and a fictional Duke’s daughter, Pamela who for some unknown reason is living in Baltimore. The girls remain best friends through childhood and adolescence before going their separate ways and it is their friendship and the betrayal that temporarily brings it to an end that is the main catalyst of everything that happens within the novel. I found this a bit disconcerting as the fascinating Pamela is a fictional character but it works really well and I’m guessing she is based on a composite of real people. If you like your historical fiction to strictly adhere to the facts then you may find Pamela and her husband highly annoying distractions. I liked them though and hope they get their own novel or that they feature in a follow up to Wallis, which I hope is forthcoming as it ended all too soon for me.

I also really liked that the fabulous Houghton sisters who were the stars of The Golden Prince featured in this book so I could catch up with them all again. I do love it when writers do this – it’s always a thrill when Heyer’s characters pop up in her other books, although I lament that her allegedly planned Lord Wrotham novel never happened.

Anyway, yes, if you are fascinated even slightly by Wallis Simpson or have a thing for the glitz and glamour of the early 19th century then I’d definitely recommend Wallis. I’ve now moved on to Kate Williams’ new biography Young Elizabeth: The Making of our Queen, which will no doubt talk about Wallis from an entirely different perspective and probably make me cross with her all over again…

Further reading:

Wallis

The Golden Prince

Palace Circle

That Woman: The Life of Wallis Simpson, Duchess of Windsor

Young Elizabeth: The Making of our Queen

The Rose Garden – Susanna Kearsley

1 May

I know that I said my book reviews were going to go up on Sundays but I was recovering from a seventh birthday party last Sunday and didn’t really feel able to do anything much other than weep, trip over Moshlings and cram left over chocolate fingers into my face.

However! That was then and this is NOW.

Regular readers of this blog may recall that although I really loved Susanna Kearsley’s The Winter Sea (aka Sophia’s Secret. I do wish they’d leave titles alone – do US and UK readers REALLY need different titles?), I wasn’t quite as taken with Mariana because of the ending and also all the explaining about reincarnation. I have NOTHING against the concept of reincarnation or indeed against the concept of having things explained but there seemed like an awful lot of it, which I ultimately ended up skipping just to get to the actual story again.

However, I read Susanna Kearsley’s other book, The Rose Garden last week and really loved it. In contrast to The Winter Sea, which had a writer going into weird trances and remembering the experiences of an ancestor and Mariana, which had a woman tramping around the countryside at night as she revisited the experiences of someone she was reincarnated from, The Rose Garden had ACTUAL TIME TRAVEL back to the eighteenth century. I know, right.

I’ll admit, I had some problems with this at first as it seemed a bit fraught with issues such as accusations of witchcraft, prohibitively low hygiene, salmonella and so forth but it was all okay in the end as the eighteenth century hero, Daniel happened to be a very broad minded, well read, scientifically interested sort of guy who accepted the heroine, Eva’s excuse of ‘Hey, sorry that I just manifested in your bedroom but I am inadvertently time travelling’ with very little question. Phew.

He also happened to be a Cornish smuggler. Cor, I know. Now, I don’t know about you but when I think of Cornish smugglers, I think of something like this:

Not this, which is sort of how I imagined Daniel in The Rose Garden to look:

However, it happens to us all. For instance, in my books about the French Revolution, I imagine my hot French revolutionaries to all look like this:

When in fact rather too many of them had a distressing tendency to look like this:

Anyway. I really enjoyed The Rose Garden – there weren’t huge amounts of suspense but I found it to be a bit of a page turner once it got going a bit. The romance was nicely handled too – I mean it was obvious what was going to happen but Kearsley allowed Eva and Daniel to get to know each other first and be gradually drawn to each other rather than, you know, an instant of shedding of clothes and all that malarkey. In fact, even when they DO get together, you don’t get to see ANY clothes shedding, just a lot of tender snogging.

There is NOTHING in this book that couldn’t read aloud to a ninety year old lady with a weak heart. NOTHING.

I’d definitely recommend this one and look forward to the next!

So, time slip books – are you a fan? Which ones do you recommend? I tried Diana Gabaldon’s books a while ago and couldn’t get into them at all.

I find the construction of them very interesting, in that they tend to have themes in common with each other: a focus on a building; a dilemma from the past that can be fixed by a couple getting together in the present; the heroine being at a crossroads in her life after a traumatic event such as bereavement or divorce; a choice between two men and so on. I’ve also noted that all the time slip books that I’ve read lately have either been written before everyone and their grandmother acquired a mobile phone or have deliberately eschewed such modern technological nonsense, which to my jaded twenty first century eyes makes the ‘modern’ part of these books feel almost as old fashioned as the historical bits.

I also had a fairly uneventful chat on Facebook yesterday with a couple of people who asserted that time slip novels are actually science fiction as opposed to historical fiction. I’m not a fan of science fiction (I find SF books peculiar, too techy and excessively bleak for my tastes) to be honest and will admit that if they were marketed as science fiction, I’d be really put off by that. How about you?

The Rose Garden

Book review round up: parasols, doomed princesses and hot cavaliers

15 Apr

I’ve been really slacking off in the old book reviewing front, haven’t I? Anyway, here is a round up of some of the books that I have read recently:

The Parasol Protectorate Series: Soulless, Changeless, Blameless, Heartless and Timeless by Gail Carriger.

I bloody loved these books. I expressed doubts about the whole steampunk thing in my original review of Soulless but those doubts are now GONE and those days are in the past. I love it now. Well, I love Gail Carriger’s take on it anyway.

I’m actually genuinely gutted that there will be no more Alexia Tarabotti books as I thought she was an excellent character. I also really fancied Lord Maccon.

Anyway, if you have a thing for Victorian steampunk paranormal adventure with a slightly arch tone and a lot of tea, hats and treacle tart, then you’ll probably love these books too.

Mariana by Susanna Kearsley.

I really BADLY wanted to love this as I adored her novel The Winter Sea (also called Sophia’s Secret) but this fell a bit flat for me in places. Not because it was bad but because the lengthy discussions about reincarnation and, well, woo made me switch off a bit. I also didn’t like the ending as The Big Reveal it was all just a bit too far out of the blue for me.

On the other hand, I did really enjoy reading this and liked the hot cavalier in the seventeenth century bits. Wait, I’m sensing a theme of ‘I will only read books if I fancy the main male character’. I didn’t really warm to the two modern day (well, I say ‘modern’ but I think this was originally written in the 1990s as it felt slightly dated) ‘hero’ types so maybe that’s why I couldn’t really get into it? Argh, HORMONES.

Anyway, this was very good if you like the whole time slip type thing. I’ve been reading them lately as I want to try writing one as an experiment and am interested in the mechanics as there’s so many different types. This one was a bit odd in that she actually wandered about the place experiencing what happened in its geographical location, which made me feel a bit uneasy to be honest.

Anastasia’s Secret by Susanna Dunlap.

I’ve just finished this and am not sure what I made of it to be honest. It’s a first person account of the fall of the Romanovs from the point of view of the Grandduchess Anastasia. I can’t resist ANYTHING written about the doomed Romanovs so expected to really love this – it left me feeling a bit unnerved though as the heart of the book was a romance between the teenaged Anastasia and one of the palace guards, Sasha (who was reasonably hot, I suppose although he had an eye patch for most of the book which adds a BAZILLION hotness points). This wasn’t just a budding, blossoming romance either – it was a full on shag-fest in the palace cellars type thing.

I don’t honestly know what I think about this. Liberties are taken with the personalities and sexual proclivities of actual historical figures all the time. Hell, I do it myself! However, this was a gently raised girl who was shot and bayonetted to death at the age of seventeen. I can TOTALLY understand someone wanting her to have a bit of a love affair before her dreadful end, but I’m not sure this was all that romantic to be honest – it just seemed really furtive and a bit sordid. I’d have been more moved if she and Sasha had had an unconsummated love thing going on. That’s just me and my ADORATION of the bitter-sweet though.

Despite all of this, I really did enjoy this book – especially towards the end when things go downhill for the royal family. The last few pages were especially good. I also really liked that it didn’t depict the Romanov family as completely flawless and explored the tensions and imperfections lurking beneath those happy family photographs that we all know so well.

Have you read any of these books? What did you think?

Soulless: The Parasol Protectorate: Book 1 (Parasol Protectorate 1)

Changeless: The Parasol Protectorate: Book 2

Blameless: The Parasol Protectorate: Book 3

Heartless: The Parasol Protectorate: Book 4 (Parasol Protectorate 4)

Timeless: The Parasol Protectorate: Book 5

Mariana

Anastasia’s Secret

Wolf Hall – Hilary Mantel

15 Mar

Lock Cromwell in a deep dungeon in the morning,” says Thomas More, “and when you come back that night he’ll be sitting on a plush cushion eating larks’ tongues, and all the gaolers will owe him money.” — Wolf Hall.

I’ll admit it now that I have been a bit of a Hilary Mantel fan girl for a really long time now. I bought my copy of A Place of Greater Safety, which is my favourite book of all time beside From Hell, from Waterstone’s in Colchester on the day that I got my A Level results. I’d been completely and hopelessly obsessed with the French Revolution since I was a little girl and her book just made my love all the more bright and resonant.

It struck a chord too, which is no doubt I remember so clearly the act of buying it. I’d had a chequered educational career, moving schools every couple of years, hating school when I was there, which wasn’t often as I had a truancy problem and then culminating my career by getting knocked up halfway through sixth form and being thrown off two of my courses while failing to ever attend one of the other two. I was flushed, nay replete with victory as I read Mantel’s account of Paris during the French Revolution for despite it all, despite not turning up, slamming doors, getting drunk when I should have been revising and not having read even a quarter of the course material, I’d got the A Levels I needed to escape to Nottingham University to study history.

Of course, what I didn’t know then as I compared myself to eighteenth century rebels and Revolutionaries was that much later, Mantel would write about someone who would resonate even more strongly with me when she resurrected the dry bones of Thomas Cromwell for Wolf Hall.

The one course that I never flunked out on at sixth form was history, having opted to take the Early Modern course rather than the more usual Modern. We were lucky actually – none of the schools that I attended during my previous shambolic educational career had offered any history course worth mentioning (I may have been a truant but I spent those stolen hours either hiding in our gardens with a stack of history books or in Coggeshall library weeping over old biographies of Antoine de Saint-Just) but Colchester Sixth Form offered not just one but FOUR different history courses. I know, right.

Therefore, while I was being all starry eyed about Desmoulins, Danton and Saint-Just, I was getting a pretty thorough grounding in Tudor history by the very lovely Pete Statham and John Matusiak, whom we all joked looked a bit like that Holbein portrait of Cromwell. I had a bit of a crush on him actually. The signs were clearly all there.

I digress.

I hate those Goodreads reviews where people make judgements about other readers based on the books that they do or don’t like. I hate it when people say things like ‘Only pretentious readers will enjoy this’ or ‘if you don’t enjoy this then you clearly don’t like reading’. I’m not going to do that about Wolf Hall. I know some people have struggled with it but for every one of them I know someone else like me who loved it passionately and never wanted it to end. Although I think Wolf Hall is an accessible book and a lovely read, I can honestly see why it dragged for some people or they just didn’t get on with the style.

At times I felt like one of those drippy girls in modern wish fulfilment versions of Jane Austen stories. You know the ones – the sort where they wake up and find themselves back in time and rubbing shoulders with Elizabeth Bennett, Mr Darcy and Emma Woodhouse. That was a bit like me as I read Wolf Hall. I desperately wished that I could fall arms akimbo into its pages and then, I don’t know, run up to Thomas Cromwell and beg him to marry me? Cling to the bannister at Hampton Court or Austin Friars and refuse to ever leave? Go mad like the Maid of Kent and end up burned at the stake after I’ve prophesised terrible ends for them all?

It’s a big book. A BIG book. It’s not daunting though. If it was some weighty, dry as dust and serious tome then yes, it would be a struggle to get through it but the touch here is light and it’s one of the very few books to have actually made me laugh out loud not just once but several times thanks to Cromwell’s sly wit no doubt.

In all my years of greedy promiscuous gorging on books, it is also the only book to have ever made me cry. I don’t just mean a polite leaking of tears either – no I really burst into a hideous shuddering bout of sobbing at one point.

The chief glory here though is that Mantel takes Thomas Cromwell, a perplexing, unflatteringly portrayed and usually much maligned man with tiny piggy eyes and sausage fingers and makes him living breathing flesh once again. Not just that, but she makes him immensely likeable. Loveable even. I never ever EVER could have imagined myself with a crush on Thomas Cromwell but there it is, I adore him in Wolf Hall. I love his kindness; his sharp, whirring, remarkable mind and his humour. I often think that it is a cheap writer’s touch to show a perhaps unsympathetic character being kind to animals and children but here it works and you begin to believe in this fleshed out, complicated man with his silvery courtier’s tongue, ruthless brain and habit of getting all sweet eyed over small dogs and forlorn little boys and collecting around him a bustling, loving household full of friends and family.

It’s not all joviality and bonhommie though – I love his loyalty to the wonderfully verbose and archly charming Wolsey but I also really appreciate the way that he misses nothing and remembers everything. A careless snub from the young Thomas More when Cromwell is a small boy working in Wolsey’s kitchens is mentioned, briefly, in passing but clearly never ever forgotten by Cromwell or by the reader who waits, breathlessly for him to remind More of that split second moment when he failed to return a boy’s friendly wave all those years before.

In Wolf Hall, the names of the men who would eventually be condemned with Anne Boleyn crop up over and over again and I felt the occasional little sympathetic shiver as I thought ‘Cromwell has his eye on you and I’d hate to be in your shoes when he calls that debt in’. Mark Smeaton, in particular, makes several appearances after he makes the schoolboy error of assuming Cromwell, who seems to know all the languages in the world, won’t understand Flemish and allows himself to be overheard unflatteringly comparing his looks to that of a murderer, a remark that Cromwell seems to be hilariously unable to shake from his mind, even as with his son, Gregory he contemplates his famous portrait by Holbein, then newly painted and glossy.

‘I fear Mark was right.’
‘Who is Mark?’
‘A silly little boy who runs after George Boleyn. I once heard him say I looked like a murderer.’
Gregory says, ‘Did you not know?’
— Wolf Hall.

Ah, it’s just insanely entertaining and also moving. I seriously cannot recommend this book enough. It certainly serves as a heady antidote to the current deluge of Tudor fiction that seems to be spewing out at the moment (like the little girl in the rhyme, when it is good, it is very good but when it is bad IT IS DREADFUL), particularly in its treatment of the women of the Tudor court – dark eyed, ambitious Anne with her deceptive frailty; her pretty and apparently guileless sister Mary (now she and Cromwell are clearly a match made in heaven); Queen Katherine; Princess Mary and, best of all, pale little Mistress Seymour who has always been my least favourite of Henry’s wives but is dealt with in an interesting and sympathetic way here.

Also intriguing is his depiction here of Thomas More as a rather unlikeable religious zealot who delights in watching torture and marries ugly women as an obscure form of penance then needles them by discussing them in front of their faces in languages that he knows they don’t understand. I’ve always had a bit of a soft spot for More so found this a bit difficult at first, but then I found myself really disliking him, which left me with the uneasy feeling that I used to get sometimes at school when I inadvertently found myself laughing at a bully taunting their prey.

As an aside, I re-read this in preparation for the sequel Bring up the Bodies, which is due out on the 10th May and which will focus on Cromwell’s part in the downfall of Anne Boleyn and those young men that he seems to be keeping an eye on.

I’m intrigued also by the upcoming BBC and HBO adaptation of the book. My money is on Dominic West to play Cromwell with Andrea Riseborough playing Anne Boleyn and all other parts to be played by Tom Hardy and Aidan Turner – in female apparel if necessary. What do you think?

Further reading:

Wolf Hall

A Place of Greater Safety

Bring up the Bodies

Soulless – Gail Carriger

11 Mar

I’ll be honest – I may be a card carrying (okay, the card is imaginary) long time goth, Victorian Prostitute re-enactor and Ripperologist but I’ve always been a bit wary of the whole steampunk thing. I think it’s the excessive amounts of BEIGE that I find a bit offputting – or perhaps it’s the way that steampunkers (is that right?) seem to take themselves so seriously.

Steampunk is what happened when goths discovered khaki‘ – someone on Live Journal, circa 2007.

Therefore, the idea of reading a steampunk novel wasn’t really all that appealing as I assumed it would be full of goggles, more BEIGE than anyone under the age of sixty should ever be asked to cope with and a lot of frippery about waxed moustachios and God only knows what else.

Well, I was WRONG as I just finished reading a steampunk book and I BLOODY LOVED IT.

I’d been vaguely drawn to Soulless by Gail Carriger anyway because I really liked the cover and also have a very soft spot for anachronistic bad ass wayward Victorian girls. I’m rather less keen on the paranormal (yes, I know, just what sort of a goth am I?!) but I thought I could handle it in small doses so long as it didn’t get all Twilight.

I can assure you that this is NOTHING like Twilight although there’s plenty of the paranormal here.

Soulless opens in dramatic fashion with the heroine, Alexia getting fed up about the lack of food laid on at a fashionable London ball and taking off to the library, where she commits the etiquette FAIL of ordering tea and cakes for herself only to be assailed by a lisping vampire in an embarrassingly outmoded shirt. This would all be AWKWARD enough, only the vampire doesn’t appear to realise that la belle Alexia has no soul, which in this re-imagined and re-ordered Victorian England means that she has the ability to neutralise supernatural powers and render their holders momentarily mortal…

What ensues is a wonderfully amusing romp through Alexia’s London, a world of dirigibles, batshit hats, science, lofty vampires, cake and oddly attractive werewolves. I really loved this completely mad imaginary upside down world where supernaturals and humans live alongside each other; Queen Victoria likes to pay chatty visits to subjects and handsome young fops are capable of creating the latest Parisian hair styles with just a few twists of wire.

I loved it so much that I was sad to leave so it’s pretty lucky that there’s four more books in the series for me to enjoy really! I may even have to buy the graphic novel version as well.

I definitely recommend this one. Okay, I’m not QUITE ready to festoon myself with beige, artfully broken fob watches and goggles but I definitely dig the soulless Alexia Tarabotti.

Soulless: The Parasol Protectorate: Book 1

Tokyo Milk review

6 Mar

It seems very fitting to write about Tokyo Milk on the same day as I post about Catherine de Medici as after all, she introduced sensuous Italian perfumes and cosmetics to the French court in the sixteenth century and in doing so completely revolutionised the way that fashionable men and women used scent.

I’ve mentioned Tokyo Milk’s products several times on this blog now but was beginning to feel slightly shamefaced as I’ve never actually managed to try any of their stuff out! However, thanks to some lovely people there and in their UK distributers, I was sent a box of veritable gorgeousness last week with some choice goodies to try.

My favourite thing has to be the Bittersweet shea butter hand cream, which is just divine. I get eczema and really dry skin on my hands over the winter and this handcream has been absolutely fantastic in making my poor mitts so much more silky and soft. It smells beautiful as well – the scent is supposed to be ‘cake flour, dark cacao bean, osmanthus and bronzed musk’ and the result is a kind of warm, incensey, chocolate brownie scent. It’s heaven.

In fact I’m planning to buy the matching perfume now because I want to smell like this all the time. I can really see it becoming my signature scent this summer – I know, heresy when I’ve been devoted to Philosykos for all these years! It’s just so darn beautiful though…

Also beautiful is the Let Them Eat Cake perfume, which is supposed to smell of ‘Sugar Cane, Coconut Milk, Vanilla Orchid and White Musk’ and actually smells like the most lovely vanilla and coconut cake. I adore it. It’s the perfect scent for mellow summer evenings.

I was also sent two conditioning ‘Lip Elixir’ balms – one in Salted Caramel, which is lovely and has a unusual aftertaste that actually does taste like the real thing and Absinthe, which is terrifyingly pungent but really does smell like something a Victorian prostitute would laze around drinking on a crimson velvet sofa, while a golden haired poet peeled her some grapes.

All in all, I was very pleasantly surprised and my expectations (which were already pretty high!) were more than matched. I’m a definite Tokyo Milk fan now and am making an order soon for a Marie Antoinette cosmetic case, Bittersweet, Bulletproof and the Moonflower and Sugar Bomb mix and match perfume vials as I love that sort of thing. I’ve always adored perfume and have an especial fondness for sets that let me make my own unique scents plus I’m a sucker for fig and gourmand scents. I definitely can’t wait to give them a try!

If you live in the US you can buy their goodies including the gorgeous Marie Antoinette cards and a lot more from their website, however if you live in the UK like me, you can get them from John Lewis and Wild & Funk, although be warned it is significantly more expensive over here. I think it’s worth it though!

Palace Circle – Rebecca Dean

4 Mar

I’ve been longing to read Palace Circle ever since it first came out but for various reasons have only just managed to do so. To be honest, I kind of wish that I had left it on my wish list and not bought it as I feel a bit let down and by far preferred the clearly imaginary book that I had convinced myself that it would be, which was a sweeping tale of passion and posh doom in pre Second World War London and Cairo with lots of frolicking about, scandal and iniquity.

I suppose that part of the reason that this book annoyed me so much is that I’d just had my own knuckles soundly rapped for doing too much telling and not enough showing in the first draft of my Minette novel (that’s how I write in the third person, I’m afraid – lots of narrative at first that I later cut out and replace with my by far preferred chatter once I’ve got a handle on the characters) and this book was pretty much entirely made up from a vast profusion of TELLING. It made me furious in a sort of ‘how come this writer gets away with it and I don’t?’ sort of way.

Well, truth be told, okay it may have slipped past an editor but they haven’t actually got away with it because it’s pretty obvious and also really infuriating. I really hated the way that the action jumped several years mid paragraph, that scenes that should have been explored fully (didn’t we deserve to see one of the main characters getting married rather than a sentence devoted to their nuptials?) were treated as asides while other scenes that bored the pants off me went on for pages and pages and, oh God make it stop, pages.

I loved the descriptions of Cairo in the first half of the twentieth century but found myself skipping vast tracts of the book towards the end because all the lecturing about tedious political stuff really bored me. Sorry. I just wanted more about the characters and their personal dramas!

I also felt very let down on the iniquity and scandal front – in fact the characters seemed to be tiresomely opposed to such things and a lot of effort was made to avoid such ripples of drama and excitement. Some tension was thrown in with the Big Secret, which was pretty obvious right from the start and only caused more annoyance because it could have been avoided had two of the main characters actually bothered to have a rational conversation with each other rather than just getting all dewy eyed and scampering off to the bedroom together.

It wasn’t all frustrating though – I very much liked Davina and her story up until she returned to Cairo and it all went a bit political. I’d have preferred that the whole book moved a bit more slowly and was entirely from Delia’s point of view to be honest – maybe cutting out the earlier stuff about her marriage and starting it from the point that her daughters were almost ready to come out? I don’t know. I’m not an editor but there was something a bit off with the pacing here, which I don’t think was the author’s fault to be honest as she’s a good writer and there was lots here that was really fun to read. I just would have preferred more of the fun and lovely descriptions of places and clothes and a LOT less of the politics and stiff upper lipped determination to avoid scandal.

Anyway, I absolutely loved Rebecca Dean’s The Golden Prince and am VERY MUCH looking forward to her novel about Wallis Simpson (who appeared in Palace Circle and was rather ace, which was nice) which is coming out soon and looks great so I think this one is just a bit of a blip, at least as far as I am concerned any way. You may well love it!

Palace Circle

Wallis

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