Review: Taking Chances, by Molly Keane

Pages: 272

Original date of publication: 1929

My edition: 1988 (Virago)

Why I decided to read: I’m in the process of reading everything by Molly Keane and this one seemed to fit my mood.

How I acquired my copy: Ebay, August 2010

After reading The Rising Tide, I’m now on a mission to read everything by Molly Keane (who wrote under the pseudonym MJ Farrell). Taking Chances is one of her earlier books, published as MJ Farrell, and is the story of three siblings: Roguey, Maeve, and Jer, although the story is told with Jer’s sensibility. The story opens with Maeve’s marriage to Rowley, a neighboring landowner, and the arrival of Maeve’s bridesmaid, Mary, from London. The women are as different as different could be, and Rowley and Mary are instantly attracted to one another.

Taking Chances is another really good one from Molly Keane. Her books usually feature great, sprawling piles in the Irish countryside, and her characters are very much in to hunting and horses (Molly Keane was born into “a rather serious Hunting and Fishing Church-going family,” so it makes sense that so many of her novels should be focused on this theme). Taking Chances does indeed center around a family estate, Sorristown, of which Roguey is the master. He and his siblings are very tightly knit, and so the intrusion of Rowley and Mary and their love affair makes for an interesting complication in the siblings’ relationships with each other.

I love, love, love the way in which Molly Keane describes her characters’ emotions. As I said before, although the book is mostly about the three siblings, the story is told from Jer’s point of view—Jer, the youngest, with his stammer. It seems as though he’s the only one who knows exactly what’s going on between Mary and Rowley, and I was interested in his reaction to all that goes on. At the same time, I felt very sorry for him—he’s the least strong of the three siblings, but he has to bear the full brunt of everyone’s actions. And poor Meave, too—maybe to be ignorant truly is bliss? Until the end, she’s the only one who’s truly content with the situation. This novel gives its reader a lot to think upon, and it’s because of that that this book is so powerful. It’s too bad that Molly Keane’s books are by and large unknown, because she was truly a fabulous writer.

Teaser Tuesdays

Teaser Tuesdays is a weekly bookish meme. Anyone can play along! Just do the following:

--Grab your current read

--Open to a random page

--share two “teaser” sentences from somewhere on that page

Be sure NOT TO INCLUDE SPOILERS! (Make sure that what you share doesn’t give too much away! You don’t want to ruin the book for others!)

--Share the title and author, too, so that other TT participants can add the book to their TBR lists if they like your teasers!

“Stanley’s son was at Oxford, reading for a pass, for it was no manner of use, they said, his reading for anything more. He was a nice boy, but not yet clever.”

--From Told by An Idiot, by Rose Macaulay

Review: The King's Daughter, by Penny Ingham

Pages: 317

Original date of publication: 2004 (as Lady of the Mercians)

My edition: 2010 (Cava Books)

Why I decided to read: it was recommended to be through Amazon UK

How I acquired my copy: Amazon UK, May 2010

The King’s Daughter is the story of Elflaede, daughter of Alfred the Great, King of Wessex during the late 9^th century. Elflaede herself became a Queen in her own right, and became known as Lady of the Mercians through her marriage to Ethelred, King of Mercia. As she continued her father’s quest to keep the Viking invaders at bay, in this novel, she falls in love with the very person she’s not supposed to—Guthrun, a Viking himself.

I had to look up Alfred the Great and Elflaede up in order to get the full story of both, since I felt that the history got a little lost in the love story of Guthrun and Elflaede. I also wish that Alfred had been a greater presence in this book; although he was at the height of his powers at the time the book is set, I really didn’t feel the full weight of what a great leader he really was. Elflaede seems way to modern for the time period, and she’s pretty much always perfect. I kept waiting for her to make a mistake, or prove in some way that she was human, but I was disappointed.

All of the characters are either very, very bad or very, very good, which made them much less believable as people. What it all boils down to is that the Saxons are the good guys and the Vikings the bad, and none but Guthrun has any redeeming characteristics, either. Still, the book moves at a smooth pace and is well-written. However, although it’s only been a week since I finished reading this book, I had a hard time remembering the characters or the plot of this novel—never a good sign. I’m not sure I love the new title, either—there have to be at least half a dozen books out there called The King’s Daughter.

Review: Henry of the High Rock, by Juliet Dymoke

Pages:

Original date of publication: 1971

My edition: 1971 (Dobson Books)

Why I decided to read: Elizabeth Chadwick recommendation

How I acquired my copy: Amazon.com, September 2009

I first heard about Juliet Dymoke’s books through Elizabeth Chadwick, who listed Henry of the High Rock as one of her favorite historical fiction books. Henry is actually the second in a loosely-connected trilogy of books that can be read separately (the first is Of the Ring of Earls). Henry of the High Rock is about Henry Beauclerc, a younger son of William the Conqueror who, despite the odds, became King of England. This novel is about his struggle to get there and his love, along the way, for Eadgyth of Scotland.

Dymoke has a habit of portraying her male characters in a more or less rosy light; her Henry is very much romanticized. But I liked the portrait she painted of him. Her treatment of the struggles between Henry and his brothers is well done. Dymoke gives her readers a great feeling for the time and place in which her novels are set, and I felt that I came to know Henry, his brothers, and Eadgyth very well through this book. The book takes place over the course of about ten years, and Dymoke develops her characters in a very believable way. Because of the large time span, however, the narrative jumps from one place to another, and I felt that the plot never really focused on one thing before moving on to another. But I loved reading about these characters and getting to know them. The books in this series are much better than those in Dymoke’s Plantagenet Pride of Kings series, so be sure to read this one first… if you can get your hands on a copy, since her books are out of print.

Review: The Pindar Diamond, by Katie Hickman

Pages: 277

Original date of publication:2010

My edition: 2010 (Bloomsbury)

Why I decided to read: I read The Aviary Gate last summer

How I acquired my copy: LTER program, August 2010

The Pindar Diamond is a follow-up novel to The Aviary Gate. While they can be read separately, I would recommend that you reading The Aviary Gate before this one. The Pindar Diamond opens in 1603 and 1604, when a travelling group of performers take a mysterious woman, washed ashore on the Italian coast, into their care. Meanwhile, in Venice, Paul Pindar is on the hunt for a priceless diamond called the Sultan’s Blue; and his friend, John Carew, becomes entangled with a nun named Annetta.

It’s only been a year since I read The Aviary Gate, but I found when reading its follow-up that I had to go back and re-read my review of the first! I just didn’t remember any of the characters, except for Celia. Having read the sequel, though, I don’t think that I’ll remember the characters much further. I loved the setting of Venice for this one, but it wasn’t well-described, I felt. For all the description we got of the city, the book might as well have taken place in, say, London or Paris.

The author recycles some themes from her previous novel; part of this book takes place in a convent, an enclosed place run by women (much like the harem in The Aviary Gate). Instead of capitalizing on this coincidence, however, I thought that the author more or less threw it away. The plot with the diamond was also a bit disappointing; the outcome was a bit of a letdown. I loved the bits with the acrobatic troupe, though their story was a bit predictable. I wish that the author had a little more character development with Paul, John, and Annetta, and made the city of Vence more of an integral part of the story. Still, I thought this was a well-written book, although the ending left a bit to be desired.

Review: High Wages, by Dorothy Whipple

Pages: 316

Original date of publication: 1930

My edition: 2009 (Persephone)

Why I decided to read: Heard about it through the Persephone catalogue

How I acquired my copy: Persephone subscription, March 2010

Set in the years leading up to and through WWI, this is the tale of Jane Carter, a teenage girl when the story begins, who gets a job as an assistant in a draper’s shop in a town. The story takes Jane from the 1910s up through the 1920s, when she opens up her own shop, becoming as she does so much more independent.

This is one of Dorothy Whipple’s earlier novels, so it’s less polished than, say They Were Sister or Someone at a Distance. Still, it’s interesting for the way it portrays life in the early 20^th century and the difference between the various classes (Jane as a poor girl from Lancashire; Mr. Chadwick, who has aspirations to something more; the wealthy, genteel Greenwoods; and the Briggses, who are self-made). I enjoyed watching how those differences began to break down and how these various characters interact with each other. I loved Mrs. Briggs especially; she’s married to one of the wealthiest people in town, but she’s still kept her lower-class ways, dropping her aitches and befriending shopgirls. She’s eccentric and entertaining, which makes her an engaging character.

In addition, I enjoyed watching Jane’s development from a slightly shy shopgirl to an independent shopowner, one of the New Women of the early 20^th century (but not a feminist). It’s truly amazing (albeit somewhat unrealistic) how she eventually gets the better of the Greenwoods in the end, or how she manages to come to the rescue of the Briggses, just in the nick of time (a plot contrivance, if ever I saw one, but I enjoyed it).

There may a couple of problems with the plot, but I really enjoyed Dorothy Whipple’s character descriptions—she has a way of summing up her characters in just a few sentences. The characters in some of Whipple’s later novels tend to be either too good or too bad, but here there’s a little more gray area, which I enjoyed. Incidentally, this novel also contains an interesting look at the ways in which fashion changed in the early 20^th century—as seen in Jane’s willingness to adopt a ready-made department, for example, or using a shop window to advertise goods. The author uses fashion and clothing to describe her characters’ personalities and station in life, and they spend a lot of time in this novel obsessing over the little details. I loved how Dorothy Whipple managed to work all of this into the novel in a way that was subtle.

This is Persephone no. 85. Endpaper below:

Teaser Tuesdays

Teaser Tuesdays is a weekly bookish meme. Anyone can play along! Just do the following:

--Grab your current read

--Open to a random page

--share two “teaser” sentences from somewhere on that page

Be sure NOT TO INCLUDE SPOILERS! (Make sure that what you share doesn’t give too much away! You don’t want to ruin the book for others!)

--Share the title and author, too, so that other TT participants can add the book to their TBR lists if they like your teasers!

“I liked to think that my Monday evening salon was the only place in the city where men and women could mingle as equals. The married and marriagible women of the upper reaches of the town were hidden away, given little room for interests beyond clothes, children, entertaining, and a bit of work among the poor.”

--From City of Light, by Lauren Belfer

The Sunday Salon

Fall is nearly here (technically this is the last weekend we’ve got before the first day of fall). You can definitely feel it in the weather around here, though it’s about 80 degrees out today. I spent most of yesterday working out the details of appliances for my new apartment; and then in the evening I went out with my parents and grandparents for dinner in Chinatown. I work up this morning with a cold, though, and spent part of this afternoon napping. I’m a little high on cold medication right now, so this is going to be a short post…

As for reading this week, I finished four books: The Poison Tree, by Cynthia Harrod-Eagles, Every Secret Thing, by Emma Cole, William: An Englishman, by Cicely Hamilton, and Mrs. Harris Goes to Paris and Mrs. Harris Goes to New York, by Paul Gallico. This morning I started The Tortoise and the Hare, by Elizabeth Jenkins; but due to my cold, my concentration isn’t so great right now.

Review: Jane and Prudence, by Barbara Pym

Pages: 222

Original date of publication: 1953

My edition: 1981 (Dutton)

Why I decided to read: I’ve enjoyed other books by Barbara Pym

How I acquired my copy: The Philadelphia Book Trader, August 2010

Jane and Prudence is the story of two friends—Jane is a middle-aged clergyman’s wife, and Prudence is a spinster at the age of 29, “an age that is often rather desperate for a woman who has not yet married.” When Jane and her husband move to a small parish, they meet a widower named Fabian Driver, with whom Jane wants to set Prudence up. This novel is a very quiet satire of love and romance and the constant search for them.

Jane and Prudence’s friendship is an unlikely one, and it’s hard to see why, exactly, they’re friends (beyond the fact that they met at Oxford). In addition, I kept wondering why Jane would want to set up her good friend with someone who’s a known womanizer. Still, she means well. I think the interplay between the two main characters is well done. Of the two, I think I prefer Jane with her hapless housekeeping over Prudence, who seems a bit arrogant at times. I think in a different age (say, ours), Prudence would be just anther career woman living in London (and she’d have a much better job). If she lived today, though, there would still be a focus on getting her set up with a boyfriend or husband, so not much has changed there.

I did also like Nicholas, Jane’s husband, who puts up with Jane’s flaws with an admirable amount of patience. There’s a lot of humor in this book, but some of it is downright mean at times.

Still, Barbara Pym is at her best when she’s talking about the relationships between men and women. She has some very interesting things to say about the state of being married, or not. I think the reason why Barbara Pym’s novels appeal to people even today is that her themes are so wide-ranging and timeless.

Review: The Orchid House, by Phyllis Shand Allfrey

Pages: 246

Original date of publication: 1953

My edition: 1991 (Virago)

Why I decided to read: Heard about this while browsing the list of Virago Modern Classics

How I acquired my copy: Ebay seller, July 2010

The Orchid House is the story of three young white women growing up in Dominica, in a house called L’Aromatique, or the Orchid House for its conservatory. The point of view is from their nurse, Lally, who took care of them when they were growing up. Stella, married to a German but living in America, is now a mother; Joan, also a mother, is a political activist; and Natalie is a wealthy widow. The girls have grown up and moved away, but one by one each returns. It’s a novel in which women are the focal point of the story; each of the male main characters is weak, both physically and/or emotionally.

This is a weird one, both in tone and story. As far as plot goes, there’s not much of one; it’s mostly just a flurry of activity as one sister leaves and another one comes. The narrator, Lally, isn’t believable; she’s far more educated than I imagine someone in her position might be, and she has less of a presence in the novel than some of the male characters. She claims that she loves the three girls, but you don’t really get a feel for that in this book. Of the three sisters, Joan and Stella are the more interesting, since their role in the story is much larger than Natalie’s. As far as the tone goes, though, it’s atmospheric and brooding, which I enjoyed; I’ve never been to the West Indies, but I can imagine it very clearly through this book. You get this feeling of being suspended midair while reading this novel, much as the humidity of a summer afternoon hangs in the air. There’s almost a repressive feeling to the tone of this novel sometimes, which works for it in a way.

Nonetheless, this book is important in terms of its place in West Indian literature; apparently, Jean Rhys was influenced by this book in the writing of Wide Sargasso Sea. Unfortunately, I just didn’t care much for The Orchid House.

Teaser Tuesdays

Teaser Tuesdays is a weekly bookish meme. Anyone can play along! Just do the following:

--Grab your current read

--Open to a random page

--share two “teaser” sentences from somewhere on that page

Be sure NOT TO INCLUDE SPOILERS! (Make sure that what you share doesn’t give too much away! You don’t want to ruin the book for others!)

--Share the title and author, too, so that other TT participants can add the book to their TBR lists if they like your teasers!

“I exhaled, on a shaky sigh. My coffee had grown cold, the cream congealing on its surface, but I sat there several minutes longer, sipping it, until the tour group’s members started clearing off their tables, standing, gathering around their guide.”

--From Every Secret Thing, by Emma Cole

Review: The Edwardians, by Vita Sackville-West

Pages: 349

Original date of publication: 1930

My edition: 1990 (Virago)

Why I decided to read: browsing on Ebay

How I acquired my copy: Amazon UK, June 2010

I have to admit that I was nervous going into the reading of this novel. I was expecting that Vita Sackville-West’s writing style was going to be very modernist and hard to read. But I was pleasantly surprised, as I usually am when I expect to dislike something.

The Edwardians is set in 1905 and 1906 (and then in 1910), and features Sebastian, a duke and owner of an estate called Chevron. His family is of the elite, and he rubs elbows with the cream of society, among whom are Lady Roehampton, a matron with whom he has an affair, and an adventurer named Leonard Anquetil, and Sebastian’s mother Lucy and his sister Viola, who strains against the parameters that society has set for her life. Despite his wealth and the privileges that come with it, however, Sebastian feels trapped, and he finds himself faced with a heavy decision to make.

The plot isn’t very original or groundbreaking, but what it lacks is more than made up for in the characters that populate this book. Vita Sackville-West’s novel gives it’s reader a little taste of upper-class, aristocratic society in the early 20^th century—and she reveals the good and the bad of this kind of world. All of her characters, even the superficial and shallow ones, are well drawn, and probably very true to life considering that Vita Sackville-West knew this world very well. Sebastian and Viola seem to experiment with everything that is deviant from the world into which they were born; but it’s all a part of the growing-up process for them.

Vita Sackville’s message about the shallowness of the trappings of the upper-class lifestyle in Edwardian England also comes across strongly; sometimes too strongly. Also, the decision that Sebastian makes at the end seems a little too rushed (I understand why he makes that decision, but it seems too impetuous). As I’ve said, though, Sackville-West’s writing moves very smoothly, and her characters are very real and believable. Sackville-West was very perceptive about the world of which she wrote, and it shows through in this novel. The link above will take you to the most recent edition of this Virago Modern Classic; but my edition is the original green cover with the John Singer Sargent painting on it, which is “Mrs. Carl Meyer and her Children.”

The Sunday Salon

Sunday, Sunday! It’s been very busy for me since I wrote that obscenely large check for the down payment on my condo, and because I’m having the kitchen and bathroom redone I spent yesterday morning and this morning thinking about cabinets and other things. Honestly, I don’t really care about refurbishing and decorating; I just want to move in! At the rate things are going, after the closing date on October 1^st, it’ll probably be about November before I can fully move in. But I’m very excited about all of this.

I also spent a part of this weekend figuring out my camera and uploading pictures on there that have been taking up space since September… 2009 (that was when I went to Mecca London). And then I had some photos on my camera from Labor Day weekend, when I went to visit my college roommate up in New Jersey. So below is a selection of photos…

From the top: the book haul from the trip; the South Bank Book Market (it doesn't look like much, but I found some great deals there); the historical fiction section at Hatchards bookshop in Piccadilly; Sunday afternoon on the Thames; Westminster Abbey; Hampton Court Palace; the Persephone bookshop in Lambs Conduit Street; the Traitor's Gate at the Tower of London; Houses of Parliament; and the last is a shot of me last Sunday sitting in some tree in Tewksbury, NJ. When I went to London I took a lot of photos of the old Roman wall outside the Museum of London, and lots of shots of mosaics in the Tottanham Court Road tube station; sadly, none of them turned out all that well (I take pictures of the most random things!)

Review: Diana of the Crossways, by George Meredith

Pages: 415

Original date of publication: 1885

My edition: 1980 (Virago)

Why I decided to read: browsing on Ebay

How I acquired my copy: Ebay, June 2010

Diana of the Crossways is a novel that was closely modeled on the life of Caroline Norton, a Victorian feminist who famously separated from her husband, later having an affairs with a rising politician.

George Meredith was a close friend of Norton’s and so this novel portrays Caroline (renamed Diana in this book) in an extremely sympathetic like—sometimes too sympathetically. To protect her reputation, I suspect Meredith took a lot of the scandal out of Diana’s story—really, to the detriment of the book, since Caroline Norton had an extremely fascinating life. As a result, Meredith manages to make Diana’s story uninteresting, to the point where I just didn’t care much about the story or characters. It’s too bad, because George Meredith has a lot of material to work from.

Instead, he spends a lot of time in this book dissecting his main character and the motives for her decisions. Meredith also extracts a lot from the writing of “Diana,” which got a bit tedious after a while; and the book is overtly feminist in a lot of places (for example, at one point Meredith—not Meredith writing as Diana—predicts that one day women will be encouraged to have professions, which is no big deal nowadays but back then must have seemed preposterous). However, the novel highlights the position that women had in Victorian society, which is sometimes interesting. On the other hand, George Meredith’s writing style is very, very hard to read, which is probably why this novel, and why this kind of novel, has become deeply unfashionable.

Review: The Ante-Room, by Kate O'Brien

Pages: 306

Original date of publication: 1934

My edition: 2003 (Virago)

Why I decided to read: I found this book browsing on ebay

How I acquired my copy: Ebay, July 2010

The Ante-Room is set over the course of just a few days in 1880. Agnes Mulqueen lives with her father, brother, and mother, who is dying from cancer. When Agnes’s older sister Marie-Rose arrives for a visit, she brings her husband, Vincent, along with her—and Agnes must deal with the feelings she has for her brother-in-law.

This is another one of those books I really wanted to like. But because the characters spend so much time waiting, the novel drags a lot, especially towards the middle. Agnes’s struggle—her love her Vincent versus her extremely strong faith—could be interesting, but I just found it dull after a while. I found myself wishing that Agnes would just grow herself a backbone, since she allows people to walk all over her. Actually, none of the characters are particularly likeable, except maybe poor Dr. Curran, who actually seems like a decent guy. Even Teresa Mulqueen, who I’d normally feel sorry for, isn’t all that sympathetic. But the author is a gifted writer, and she touches on her characters struggles with a great amount of compassion. Since I like Kate O’Brien’s prose style, I’ll read more books by her.

Review: Mrs. Ames, by EF Benson

Pages: 301

Original date of publication: 1912

My edition: 2010 (Bloomsbury Group)

Why I decided to read: It’s a part of the Bloomsbury Group books

How I acquired my copy: bookdepository, June 2010

I first heard about this book from another blogger, who mentioned that the Bloomsbury Group would be reprinting four more books this summer, of which Mrs. Ames is one. EF Benson wrote dozens of novels, of which his Mapp and Lucia series is most famous. Mrs. Ames is very similar to Mapp and Lucia; it concerns the social life of the town of Riseborough and several ladies’ attempts to be Queen Bee there. Mrs. Ames is the reigning queen of middle-upper class Riseborough, but her position is threatened by the arrival of Mrs. Evans.

The novel starts off a little shakily; at first I found it a little hard to get engaged by Benson’s writing style. But as I continued reading, I found myself loving this witty satire, in which people split hairs over whether one lives in a “street” or “a road.” Mrs. Evans’s social ascendency over the town of Riseborough seems accidental, so it’s no less funny when she has the upper hand over Mrs. Ames. One of my favorite characters in this book is Mrs. Altham, the middle-aged neighbor who equally aspires to the position of Queen Bee—but doesn’t ever get there and says nasty things about people behind their backs. This might get old after a while if the author’s tone hadn’t been quite so satirical—often, the joke is on Mrs. Altham, which makes parts of the book such a joy to read. Reading this book makes me look forward to reading more of EF Benson’s books—I’ve heard that the Mapp and Lucia series is especially good and so I think I’ll try to track down copies of some of those books.

Review: South Riding, by Winifred Holtby

Pages: 510

Original date of publication: 1936

My edition: 1988 (Fontana)

Why I decided to read: discovered this book browsing the master list of Virago Modern Classics

How I acquired my copy: Ebay seller, July 2010

On the surface, this novel is the story of local government in a Yorkshire town during the years 1932 to 1934. The novel opens with a deadly dull City Council, but it expands into something much, much more. The focus of the novel is on Sarah Burton a forty-ish spinster and the headmistress of the local Girls’ School; but it often makes forays into the lives and thoughts of the other townspeople.

At first, from the description (and from reading the prologue) I thought I wasn’t going to care much for this book. Plus, there’s a veery long list of characters at the beginning which initially made me think I was going to get everyone confused. But the story really started to pick up as Sarah began to become involved with the town, especially Robert Carne, a landowner with a teenage daughter in Sarah’s school and an ill wife. Certainly, Jane Eyre influenced this book (and there are shades of Rebecca, although that book was published slightly later), but there are also a number of differences. The romance between Sarah and Carne is a bit predictable; and yet, it’s a lot more complicated than you expect, too. As a result, I was surprised by the way that the story turned up; not everything is wrapped and tied up in a neat little package.

The gubernatorial stuff gets a bit tedious (Holtby’s mother was an alderman, and she shows off her knowledge in this novel), but I did enjoy reading about these characters and what happens to them. Holtby really knew how to get at the heart of her characters’ emotions.

Review: The Lacquer Lady, by F Tennyson Jesse

Pages: 383

Original date of publication: 1929

My edition: 1979 (Virago)

Why I decided to read: discovered it browsing the master list of Virago Modern Classics

How I acquired my copy: another Librarything member sent it to me, August 2010

The Lacquer Lady is set in 1870s and ‘80s Mandalay, in the time period leading up to the British takeover of Burma. Fanny Moroni is one part Italian, one part Burmese, who goes to school in England and returns to a country in a fair amount of turmoil. When King Mindoon dies, Thibaw becomes king, thus beginning rather disastrous seven-year period culminating with the British takeover of Burma and the ending of the Konbaung dynasty. Fanny enters into this sphere by becoming a lady-in-waiting to his Queen, Supaya-lat—who gives proof to the saying that behind every powerful man is an even more powerful woman.

At first, getting into this book was slow going—I wasn’t all that interested in Fanny’s time in England. The novel got much more interesting when Fanny and Agatha went to Burma, for it’s in Burma that Fanny really started jumping off the page. She’s not the most appealing main character I’ve ever read about (Supaya-lat is much more interesting, and I wish that the author had focused on her more), but she’s got a lot of gumption nonetheless. I enjoyed the contrast between Fanny’s exoticness and Agatha's typical Englishness.

What I especially loved about this novel were the author’s descriptions of Burma—it’s almost like a character itself. You really get a feel for the period in which the novel is set, and you get an idea of the relationships between the native Burmese and the kala (foreigners)—British, French, Italians, Americans, etc. F Tennyson Jesse, a great-niece of the poet, was a journalist, but she really had a talent for writing historical fiction as well. If you can get your hands on a copy of this novel, do; it’s a really smart fictional telling of one of the more important moments in Burmese history. It’s all the more remarkable considering that many of the people in this novel were real.