Sunday Salon: Pat of Silver Bush

Pat of Silver Bush. L.M. Montgomery. 1933. 288 pages. [Source: Bought]

Not sure if it's my mood or if Pat just isn't as interesting as Anne, Emily, the Story Girl, or Marigold. It is not that I expect every Montgomery heroine to be just like Anne. I like that Montgomery's heroines tend to be different from one another. But other than the fact that Pat eventually started liking boys, Pat doesn't really grow or change or transform. The highlights of this one: Pat meets Jingle (Hilary) a poor young boy with an unfortunate name and no mother. From the start, readers suspect that he will be the love interest if not in this one then in book two. Pat also meets a young girl named Bets. The two are good friends. I never felt a connection with Pat really, so it was hard to find a connection with Pat and her best friend. Still, I thought it sad that the only really big thing that happens in the novel (unless you count the oh-so-tense episode with the missing dog) is Bets' death. If readers find Judy interesting--her storytelling fun--then perhaps there is enough to make this one worth reading. I didn't like this one much.  
  
I read Pat of Silver Bush because it is my goal to read all of L.M. Montgomery's novels in just one year, and to read them chronologically in order of publication. I've only got four novels left:
 
Mistress Pat (1935)
Anne of Windy Poplars (1936)
Jane of Lantern Hill (1937) 
Anne of Ingleside (1939)

© 2013 Becky Laney of Becky's Book Reviews

Week in Review: September 1-7

The Phantom Tollbooth. Norton Juster. Illustrated by Jules Feiffer. 1961/2011. Random House. 272 pages. [Source: Review copy]
Creative Writing: The Plot Thickens. Mary Budzik. 2013. Kingfisher. 64 pages. [Source: Review Copy]
No Shame, No Fear. Ann Turnbull. 2003. Candlewick. 304 pages. [Source: Library]
Bath Tangle. Georgette Heyer. 1955/2011. Sourcebooks. 368 pages. [Source: Review Copy]
Sprig Muslin. Georgette Heyer. 1956/2011. Sourcebooks. 304 pages. [Source: Library] 

April Lady. Georgette Heyer. 1957/2005. Harlequin. 270 pages. [Source: Library]
Rookwood. William Harrison Ainsworth. 1834. 464 pages. [Source: Bought]
The Romance of Grace. Jim McNeely III. 2013. Libertary Co. 148 pages. [Source: Bought] 

I thought I would try something new. I thought I would try to answer questions each week that have been asked via comment or even email. So if you have questions or want recommendations, leave me a comment and we'll see! (Hint: "Will you review my book it is available to purchase at..." is not the question I have in mind of answering.) If I don't have enough questions to do this week-to-week, I may do it in my monthly reflection post:

An email question:

How often do you actually read? & how long does it takes you to get through a book?

I read every day. Some days I might only get in two hours of reading. Other days I might read four or five hours. Occasionally I participate in read-a-thons and read even more. 

As for how long it takes to read a particular book, it depends on the book. If it is a Middle Grade book like Ramona Quimby Age 8, for example, about twenty or twenty-five minutes. I often read MG books in one sitting. YA and adult it just depends. It might take one or two days if I'm concentrating on it exclusively. Or it might take six or eight weeks if it's a LONG classic by Charles Dickens or Anthony Trollope or Wilkie Collins. 

From comments:

I really wished you had 1 minute to share with us your secret to reading so many books/month.
Is it THAT secret that I have never received the answer to my question? (from words and peace)

There isn't an easy way to answer this one! Picture books and children's books are very quick reads. It is very easy to sit down with a stack of five to ten picture books and just read. If I'm not in the mood to review them right away, they might get pushed to the side. Eventually, I'll be in the mood to do a post or two with various picture books. Before I write a review for a picture book, I always read OR reread it. Sometimes my second or third impression is very different from my first! Children's books take longer than picture books, of course, but they're still quick reads for the most part! What takes the most time, of course, is YA and Adult. Some is fiction. Some is nonfiction. I read books for Becky's Book Reviews and Operation Actually Read Bible. I try to have one to three reviews per week for Operation Actually. I try to have six reviews per week for Becky's Book Reviews. That doesn't mean that those are books I've just read that very week. I schedule my posts. This helps considerably! If I've had a bad week--migraines, for example--I might only have gotten two or three books read. If I've had a good week, I might have finished ten books. Everything balances in the end. As for how I read so many books in a week, well, I read every day.

So what would indicate that I'm in the right mood for one of these Georgette Heyer romances? A frivolous, light-hearted mood? The desire for something comedic? (from Sherry)

Heyer has written so many romances. If I had to guess there would be at least four or five "kinds" of Heyer romances in terms of heroes and heroines; plots, stories, and formulas. Some are definitely over-the-top dramatic. Some are very much romantic comedy emphasis on the comedy. Some heroines are so silly and mindless that they would drive you crazy if you thought they were meant to be taken seriously as an ideal. Some heroes are definitely bold, dashing, arrogant. Others are quieter and prefer to be out of the spotlight. This goes beyond preferring city or country. The key to best enjoying Heyer may be finding out which sort suits you best.

About mood. For me it is all about comfort and satisfaction. Heyer's romances are very much comfort reads. Books that I go back to again and again when I want to feel good. I would say that they are all about the journey. The books are meant to be enjoyed for what they are and not rushed through. It is about spending time getting to that happily ever after. It is about taking each conversation and each scene as it comes. The pace varies with each book. Some are very fast-paced. Others are much slower. The slow ones usually have a very exciting, very intense last seventy-or-eighty pages.

Heyer's novels are "light" in the sense that most readers don't particularly struggle during the reading process. Not because they are simple or lacking depth and substance. Heyer's novels are rich in detail; they are very much grounded in historical fact--a certain time and place in history. Heyer also did a great job with characterization and dialogue! They are "light" because they are pleasurable and you don't mind the effort it takes to read. 

© 2013 Becky Laney of Becky's Book Reviews

Library Loot: First in September

New Loot:

• The Hero's Guide to Saving Your Kingdom by Christopher Healy
• Mistress Shakespeare by Karen Harper
• A Place Beyond Courage by Elizabeth Chadwick
• The Scarlet Lion by Elizabeth Chadwick
• By Light Alone by Adam Roberts
• Her Highness, The Traitor by Susan Higginbotham
• I, Hogarth by Michael Dean
• A Natural History of Dragons: A Memoir by Lady Trent by Marie Brennan
• Frederica by Georgette Heyer
• False Colours by Georgette Heyer 
• Jane: The Woman Who Loved Tarzan by Robin Maxwell
• The Imposter Bride by Nancy Richler
• The Last Telegram by Liz Trenow
• The Road Beneath Me by Jessica Blair
• To Defy A King by Elizabeth Chadwick
• Lady of the English by Elizabeth Chadwick
• Three Maids for A Crown by Ella March Chase
• Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury

Leftover Loot:

• Foundation: The History of England From Its Earliest Beginnings to the Tudors by Peter Ackroyd
• Dynasty: The Stuarts, 1560-1807 by John Macleod
• Princesses: The Six Daughters of George III by Flora Fraser
• The Duchess of Drury Lane by Freda Lightfoot
• If Walls Could Talk: An Intimate History of the Home by Lucy Worsley 
• The Borgias: The Hidden History by G.J. Meyer
• The Armada by Garrett Mattingly

    Library Loot is a weekly event co-hosted by Claire and Marg that encourages bloggers to share the books they’ve checked out from the library. If you’d like to participate, just write up your post-feel free to steal the button-and link it using the Mr. Linky any time during the week. And of course check out what other participants are getting from their libraries. 

© 2013 Becky Laney of Becky's Book Reviews

Rookwood (1834)

Rookwood. William Harrison Ainsworth. 1834. 464 pages. [Source: Bought]

Rookwood is a mess of a novel. But sometimes it is easy to love a mess, to love a book despite its flaws. If Rookwood is a mess, it is because it is a blending of genres and story lines.

There is the incredibly creepy, ever-mysterious Rookwood family. The mystery involving lies, secret marriages, hidden wills, and a LOT of murder. The heart of this plot is focused on inheritance. Who is the rightful heir of the Rookwood estate? Is it Luke Bradley the supposed "illegitimate" son of Sir Piers Rookwood and Susan Bradley? There seems to be proof the two were married and he is in fact legitimate after all. Is it Eleanor Mowbray? There seems to be a hint in that direction. Is it Ranulph Rookwood? He's certainly confident that he's the rightful claimant. And he's ready to defend it against contrary claims. The plot is creepy and bizarre because the family history is so strange and blood-filled. The book also lacks a clear HERO.

When it is creepy, it is incredibly creepy. The chapters that focus on the underground wedding are so very weird and creepy. Before Luke found out the truth about his past, about who he is, he was in love with a gypsy girl, Sybil Lovel. And Sybil's mother, Barbara, is truly something. As soon as Luke does find out the truth, he becomes fascinated with the idea of marrying his cousin Eleanor Mowbray and 'stealing' her away from his half-brother, Ranulph. (Eleanor and Ranulph were in love already.) The "romance" of this one is truly creepy and a bit bloody.

Balancing out the gothic romance, readers meet Dick Turpin, famous highwayman. Over half the novel stars Turpin. Readers see him eating, drinking, joking, singing, laughing, fighting, riding, holding up coaches, etc. Readers see him among friends and enemies. Turpin knows Luke Bradley. He knows of the messy inheritance. He has in his possession the marriage certificate. He wants Bradley to be triumphant perhaps, but he'll bargain with either side. He and Bradley work together at times, and against each other at times. Bradley isn't above playing legitimate hero and rescuing the damsel in distress if he feels like it. Turpin overlooks the frustrations Bradley sends his way. These sections of the novel are incredibly light. All action. All adventure. A lot of drinking and singing and general merry-making. And an incredible amount of boasting!

Quotes:

"Thoughts should not always find utterance, else we might often endanger our own safety, and that of others."

It is as necessary for a man to be a gentleman before he can turn highwayman, as it is for a doctor to have his diploma, or an attorney his certificate. 

You may both of you be gratified, gentlemen," said Palmer. "Talking of Dick Turpin, they say, is like speaking of the devil, he's at your elbow ere the word's well out of your mouth. He may be within hearing at this moment, for anything we know to the contrary."

By-the-by," added he, surveying Jack more narrowly, "it occurs to me that Turpin must be rather like you, Mr. Palmer?"
"Like me," said Jack, regarding Coates askance; "like me—how am I to understand you, sir, eh?" "No offence; none whatever, sir. Ah! stay, you won't object to my comparing the description. That can do no harm. Nobody would take you for a highwayman—nobody whatever—ha! ha! Singular resemblance—he—he. These things do happen sometimes: not very often, though. But here is Turpin's description in the Gazette, June 28th, A.D. 1737:—'It having been represented to the King that Richard Turpin did, on Wednesday, the 4th of May last, rob on his Majesty's highway Vavasour Mowbray, Esq., Major of the 2d troop of Horse Grenadiers'—that Major Mowbray, by-the-by, is a nephew of the late Sir Piers, and cousin of the present baronet—'and commit other notorious felonies and robberies near London, his Majesty is pleased to promise his most gracious pardon to any of his accomplices, and a reward of two hundred pounds to any person or persons who shall discover him, so as he may be apprehended and convicted.'" "Odsbodikins!" exclaimed Titus, "a noble reward! I should like to lay hands upon Turpin," added he, slapping Palmer's shoulder: "I wish he were in your place at this moment, Jack." "Thank you!" replied Palmer, shifting his chair. "'Turpin,'" continued Coates, "'was born at Thacksted, in Essex; is about thirty'—you, sir, I believe, are about thirty?" added he, addressing Palmer. "Thereabouts," said Jack, bluffly. "But what has my age to do with that of Turpin?" "Nothing—nothing at all," answered Coates; "suffer me, however, to proceed:—'Is by trade a butcher,'—you, sir, I believe, never had any dealings in that line?" "I have some notion how to dispose of a troublesome calf," returned Jack. "But Turpin, though described as a butcher, is, I understand, a lineal descendant of a great French archbishop of the same name." "Who wrote the chronicles of that royal robber Charlemagne; I know him," replied Coates—"a terrible liar!—The modern Turpin 'is about five feet nine inches high'—exactly your height, sir—exactly!" "I am five feet ten," answered Jack, standing bolt upright. "You have an inch, then, in your favor," returned the unperturbed attorney, deliberately proceeding with his examination—"'he has a brown complexion, marked with the smallpox.'" "My complexion is florid—my face without a seam," quoth Jack. "Those whiskers would conceal anything," replied Coates, with a grin. "Nobody wears whiskers nowadays, except a highwayman." "Sir!" said Jack, sternly. "You are personal." "I don't mean to be so," replied Coates; "but you must allow the description tallies with your own in a remarkable manner. Hear me out, however—'his cheek bones are broad—his face is thinner towards the bottom—his visage short—pretty upright—and broad about the shoulders.' Now I appeal to Mr. Tyrconnel if all this does not sound like a portrait of yourself." "Don't appeal to me," said Titus, hastily, "upon such a delicate point. I can't say that I approve of a gentleman being likened to a highwayman. But if ever there was a highwayman I'd wish to resemble, it's either Redmond O'Hanlon or Richard Turpin; and may the devil burn me if I know which of the two is the greater rascal!" "Well, Mr. Palmer," said Coates, "I repeat, I mean no offence. Likenesses are unaccountable. I am said to be like my Lord North; whether I am or not, the Lord knows. But if ever I meet with Turpin I shall bear you in mind—he—he! Ah! if ever I should have the good luck to stumble upon him, I've a plan for his capture which couldn't fail. Only let me get a glimpse of him, that's all. You shall see how I'll dispose of him." "Well, sir, we shall see," observed Palmer. "And for your own sake, I wish you may never be nearer to him than you are at this moment. With his friends, they say Dick Turpin can be as gentle as a lamb; with his foes, especially with a limb of the law like yourself, he's been found but an ugly customer.

Tell me, girl, in what way? Speak, that I may avenge you, if your wrong requires revenge. Are you blood of mine, and think I will not do this for you, girl? None of the blood of Barbara Lovel were ever unrevenged. When Richard Cooper stabbed my first-born, Francis, he fled to Flanders to escape my wrath. But he did not escape it. I pursued him thither. I hunted him out; drove him back to his own country, and brought him to the gallows. It took a power of gold. What matter? Revenge is dearer than gold. And as it was with Richard Cooper, so it shall be with Luke Bradley. I will catch him, though he run. I will trip him, though he leap. I will reach him, though he flee afar. I will drag him hither by the hair of his head," added she, with a livid smile, and clutching at the air with her hands, as if in the act of pulling some one towards her. "He shall wed you within the hour, if you will have it, or if your honor need that it should be so. My power is not departed from me. My people are yet at my command. I am still their queen, and woe to him that offendeth me!" "Mother! mother!" cried Sybil, affrighted at the storm she had unwittingly aroused, "he has not injured me. 'Tis I alone who am to blame, not Luke." "You speak in mysteries," said Barbara. "Sir Piers Rookwood is dead." "Dead!" echoed Barbara, letting fall her hazel rod. "Sir Piers dead!" "And Luke Bradley——" "Ha!" "Is his successor." "Who told you that?" asked Barbara, with increased astonishment.

Dick saw the effect that he produced. He was at home in a moment. Your true highwayman has ever a passion for effect. This does not desert him at the gallows; it rises superior to death itself, and has been known to influence the manner of his dangling from the gibbet!

"Proceed now with the ceremony," continued Barbara. "By darkness, or by light, the match shall be completed." The ring was then placed upon the finger of the bride; and as Luke touched it, he shuddered. It was cold as that of the corpse which he had clasped but now. The prayer was said, the blessing given, the marriage was complete. Suddenly there issued from the darkness deep dirge-like tones, and a voice solemnly chanted a strain, which all knew to be the death-song of their race, hymned by wailing women over an expiring sister. The music seemed to float in the air. THE SOUL-BELL Fast the sand of life is falling, Fast her latest sigh exhaling, Fast, fast, is she dying. With death's chills her limbs are shivering, With death's gasp the lips are quivering, Fast her soul away is flying. O'er the mountain-top it fleeteth, And the skyey wonders greeteth, Singing loud as stars it meeteth On its way. Hark! the sullen Soul-bell tolling, Hollowly in echoes rolling, Seems to say— "She will ope her eyes—oh, never! Quenched their dark light—gone for ever! She is dead."

The next time you wed, Sir Luke, let me advise you not to choose a wife in the dark. A man should have all his senses about him on these occasions. Make love when the liquor's in; marry when it's out, and, above all, with your eyes open. This beats cock-fighting—ha, ha, ha!—you must excuse me; but, upon my soul, I can't help it."

"Every man to his taste," returned Turpin; "I love to confront danger. Run away! pshaw! always meet your foe."

A man should always die game. We none of us know how soon our turn may come; but come when it will, I shall never flinch from it. As the highwayman's life is the fullest of zest, So the highwayman's death is the briefest and best; He dies not as other men die, by degrees, But at once! without flinching—and quite at his ease! 

© 2013 Becky Laney of Becky's Book Reviews

April Lady (1957)

April Lady. Georgette Heyer. 1957/2005. Harlequin. 270 pages. [Source: Library]

In some ways, April Lady is a very simple novel. A husband and wife are madly in love with each other; but each thinks the other only married out of convenience. They are horrible at communicating with one another. Nell may love her husband dearly, but clearly she does not understand him. Perhaps the couple's biggest problem is that of inequality. Instead of being husband and wife, they sometimes act like parent and child. (There is quite a bit of scolding at times. I can see why, she does act incredibly foolish. But still. His scolding isn't going to solve anything!)

April Lady may be predictable from cover to cover, but that does not stop this romance from being a satisfying one. What I enjoyed most about April Lady was the characterization. It wasn't that I loved the heroine, Nell, or her husband, Cardross; it was that Nell and Cardross were surrounded by interesting characters.

So. Nell has a brother, Dysart, who is a reckless gambler. (He's a LOT of fun, however.) Giles (Cardross) has a half-sister, Letty. She's silly, foolish, stubborn, and spoiled. Letty is in love with Jeremy Allandale. She is insisting (to anyone who will listen) that they HAVE to get married right NOW. It's not good enough that her brother will consent to the match in two or three years when she is nineteen or so. Now, now, now. Cardross also has a good friend, a cousin named Felix Hethersett.

I loved Felix, Dysart, Letty, and Jeremy more than Cardross and Nell. If this romance did not have such a great cast of "minor" characters, it would be awful.

22 / 33 books read. 67% done!

© 2013 Becky Laney of Becky's Book Reviews