An Offer from a Gentleman by Julia Quinn

I think I have decided that Julia Quinn is a good go-to for vacation reading for me. Or romance reading in general. I can even, at this point, justify buying books un-seen because after three Quinn novels being a hit with me I'm pretty sure I'll enjoy it. Notwithstanding the end of The Duke and I, I enjoy her storytelling capacity, her sense of humour, her characters, and her take on Regency romance. She can even wring a little sympathetic tear from me, apparently, although I'll admit I was already feeling a little susceptible emotionally when I picked up An Offer from a Gentleman. And no, this is not a sad or even melodramatic book (mostly), it just hits all the right emotional keys for me in the right places.

So, imagine Cinderella in Regency England. Imagine she's not even the legitimate child of the wealthy father, but an unacknowledged bastard. Imagine that wealthy father feels some sort of duty to his offspring nonetheless, but his untimely death complicates things significantly when he had previously married what turns out to be the stepmother from hell. Imagine the fairy godmother is a well-meaning housekeeper, and the ball is a masquerade held by the eminent Bridgerton family; and imagine the prince enchanted by the lovely stranger isn't a prince at all, but Mr. Benedict Bridgerton, the most eligible of all Bridgertons...

And that's just the beginning. Cinderella's name is actually Sophie Beckett, and she is the illegitimate child of the Earl of Penwood. And Sophie is a great main character. She's in the unenviable position of having been raised as a young gentlelady, educated with her stepsisters on the Earl's insistence, and given the various privileges involved in being gently born -- but when her father dies suddenly, any protection she had from him vanishes and she becomes a lady's maid to Araminta, the widowed countess, and her two daughters Rosamund and Posy. Araminta and Rosamund are genuinely awful; unlike some of Quinn's other villains, I could find nothing to recommend them or make them the least bit sympathetic. Unfortunately, I also have no doubt that their ilk were abundant. Still are, sadly, I'm sure. A much more sympathetic character is Posy, the younger stepsister, who doesn't really want to be horrible to Sophie but is too afraid to stand up to her mother and sister.

One thing I really loved about Sophie is that she's not only intelligent and touchingly tough, she's also very self-aware. She's got principles and she sticks to them to her breaking point. This is not to say she doesn't slip up, but she doesn't make the same mistake twice. She firmly, truly believes in herself, and I really liked that. When thing go wrong (as they always do -- no spoiler there) she's prepared to strike off and make a new life for herself on her own, and the reader believes she can and will do it, too.

Now, I did qualify "not melodramatic" above, and with good reason. This book has, in no particular order, illegitimate children, daring rescues, jails, last-minute declarations of love, fist fights, cat fights, and fevers born of driving a phaeton in the pouring rain. Strangely, none of this seems particularly melodramatic in context, although I look at that list and wonder how the heck it's not. The only point I found slightly more over-the-top than I usually enjoy was near the very end; the scene was hyperbolic, and though cathartic I just couldn't quite believe it. Small quibble.

Again, here, the big enemy is largely Society and its rules, particularly for illegitimate children, and especially for illegitimate children who happened to be women with no one to stand by them. Sophie's story has a fairytale ending, but it's a little sobering to think about how many girls like her did not.

At any rate, this book was again well-crafted, humourous, light but still intelligent fun. The dialogue is snappy, the characters are very well-developed, and the plot is ridiculous in some places but largely believable. I knew that, as with all romances of this ilk, things were going to be all right in the end. But I still felt true pangs of sympathy for Sophie and her situation. Recommended for romance readers who like their Regency with a healthy dose of modern sensibilities, and for those who enjoy a fairytale retelling without magic but aren't so sure they enjoy romance. Be aware that it's a little silly, but this one may work for you.

The Duke and I by Julia Quinn

I apparently spoke too soon with the not-being-able-to-read thing. Actually, the truth is, posting about it here helped a lot. It made me think about the problem, rather than just be frustrated and feeling like a reading martyr in my own mind. And I decided the problem was related to the fact that I had a lot on my TBR pile that I should read, and not nearly enough that I wanted to read. So I thinned. Lots of those things on the TBR pile went back to the library today because I thought: "I don't have to read this. I would like to, sometime. When I am feeling more excited about it. Or when I am less frustrated with myself. But I don't have to read it now."

I spent yesterday reading Julia Quinn's The Duke and I. The Pratchett isn't in yet or I would have read that. But the Quinn was a good enough second. It's fast, light, and engaging. What's interesting, though, is that I had some significant problems with the story. I really like Quinn's writing, but I didn't buy the story this time.

The characters were engaging, and very likeable, all of them. The villain was off-screen except for the prologue, although he was villainous enough that he didn't need to be onscreen. The basic premise is this: duke comes back from overseas and discovers he's suddenly the most eligible bachelor in town, and is swamped by [what are amusingly called] Ambitious Mamas trying to marry off their daughters. Eldest, witty, intelligent daughter in a family of eight can't find a suitor to save her life -- she's got three older brothers and all the men think she's a delightful friend but not a romantic interest. The two of them meet at a ball and decide that they'd rather pretend to be attached, foiling the Ambitious Mamas and drawing jealous male attention, after which they will make a show of breaking it off. The duke will be allowed to be a cranky bachelor and the lady will make a good match. Of course, things don't go as planned, because of course they fall for each other. Will they ever make it work?!

I don't know if you can tell, but the punctuation is sarcastic. No, really.

Once again, I love how carefully Quinn has styled a world full of etiquette and social mores and then used those social rules to further the plot. Her characters are alternately bound and freed by the rules they must follow, and not always in expected ways. And also, I'm very impressed by how funny and exciting the book can be when in the hands of another author it might be boring or frustrating. Or melodramatic. Even the duel wasn't melodramatic. It was tense, it was dramatic, but it wasn't over the top. There are a number of nods to Jane Austen, as well, some more explicit than others, which I do quite enjoy. It's a romantic comedy set in Austen's time and locale -- it would seem weird if there were no Austen references.

So overall, I enjoyed the book until I got a little closer to the end. It was an interesting experience, because I managed to sit back even as the ending was happening and think -- oooookay. I don't buy this at all. Also, I think that Daphne has actually done something I really disagree with, and if I were Simon I would react exactly the same way. Maybe worse. And I sure as hell wouldn't feel badly about it. I mean, Simon's being a dick previous to Daphne's Bad Decision, but that doesn't excuse it.

I can't reveal what it is, because that would be a major spoiler. Even if I don't like what Quinn did with the story at this point, I have to admit she certainly treats the reader to a series of very interesting, believable conflicts that happen after what would be the normal conclusion of a romance novel. Other readers might not be as put off by Daphne's Bad Decision as I am.

I've read that section a couple times now, and I don't think Daphne ever apologises or even recognizes that what she did wasn't right. I looked for it, because it seemed out of character. Part of what I loved about Daphne is that she's really smart, and she's not afraid to apologise when she's in the wrong. She handles conflict well. She's very young, yes, and impulsive, but I never got the impression that she felt she had wronged Simon when to me, she really clearly had. The thing she did I could have handled -- maybe -- but her inability to regard it as absolutely out of line went way too far.

I don't want to give spoilers, but let's just say that the whole situation is resolved in a way I find completely implausible and actually distasteful. And that's disappointing. It's a happily ever after that came off quite sour for me. So I'm not unhappy I read the book, and I'll certainly read the next Bridgerton book that comes my way (Daphne has seven siblings for Quinn to marry off) but I don't see myself reading this one again.