Tuesday, December 27, 2011
Happy New Year!
Friday, December 23, 2011
Silhouettes with Candice Hern
Happy Holidays to everyone! And many thanks to the Hoydens for hosting me again.
I recently traveled to London and, as always, brought home a few treasures. This time I added new pieces to my collection of Georgian painted silhouettes, specifically silhouette jewelry, and I am going to share these pieces with you today. You can read more about painted silhouettes on mywebsite, but let me briefly explain what they are.
Rather than silhouettes cut from black paper, the silhouettes I collect are painted. You still get the profile of the sitter, but painting allows for more detail in the hair and clothing. Silhouettes, which were called profile miniatures or shades, were painted on paper, plaster, and ivory, and reverse-painted on glass. The pieces I am featuring today are all painted on ivory, which was the most common medium for jewelry. The black pigment used was generally made of lamp black mixed with beer, though fine details were sometimes done with India ink. Bronzing – the technique of adding details in gold against the black – was done using either gold or bronze powder mixed with gum arabic.
Profile artists, or profilists, offered a cheaper and faster alternative to the fully painted portrait miniature, which was hugely popular during Georgian times. The sitter's profile was typically traced using a pentagraph or other mechanism, which took only a few minutes. The sitter need not be present for the profilist to finish the work, painting in the profile and adding hair and fashion details. The original profile could be saved and used again. For example, if the original commission was for a single framed profile miniature, the sitter or his family might later want more copies, or perhaps smaller versions set into jewelry. The pentagraph could reduce the profile to any size.
The most famous profilist of the Georgian period was John Miers, who worked from the early 1780s until his death in 1821. He worked strictly in black, ie no bronzing or colored details, and his delicate rendering of ruffles and lace and other fashion details is extraordinary. His most famous protégé was John Field, who came to work in Miers' studio on the Strand in 1800 and stayed until Miers death, after which he set up his own studio. Field is best known for his bronzing details, which are extremely fine. All of the pieces shown here are either signed by or attributed to John Field during his tenure in the Miers studio, ie from 1800 to 1820. As you look at these images, remember they are VERY small, so all the details of hair and clothing, and even eyelashes, are teeny-tiny.
This first piece, shown above, is a locket set in gold with a lovely braid of hair (presumably from the sitter) surrounding the profile. The profile, painted on ivory, is signed "Miers" in Field's hand. The lack of bronzing places is early in Field's career, probably before 1810. It measures 1" x ¾". I especially love the rendering of the neck ruff. The addition of the braided hair marks this as a sentimental piece, but whether it was a love token or a mourning token is not clear.
The second piece is also a locket set in gold, though much larger at 1¾" x 1¼". The reverse is encased in glass, which would have held a lock of hair, though none is present. It is painted on ivory, and though unsigned, is attributed to Field. The interesting thing about this silhouette is that it came with a tiny handwritten note stuck to the back that says, "Robert Lowrie, killed in Peninsular War." A bit of googling led me to Captain Robert Lowrie of the 91st Foot. He died on Oct 3, 1813 from a wound suffered in the Battle of the Pyrenees on July 28. He was 36. A tablet was erected to his memory in St. Martin's Church, Lincoln (where he was born), by his brother officers as a mark of their esteem. Field's skill, learned from Miers, is particularly evident in the shirt ruffle.
The third piece is a small brooch set in gold, measuring 7/8" x 5/8". Painted on ivory and signed "Miers" in Field's hand, it shows his skill at bronzing, picking out details of hair, jewelry, and dress. Whenever bronzing was used, the face was always left in solid black, though ears, as here, or a man's whiskers might be bronzed. Doesn't this one look like a perfect Regency Miss?
The fourth piece is another brooch, even smaller at ¾" x ½". Painted on ivory and set in an octagonal gold frame, this profile is again signed "Miers" in Field's hand, and is likely another early piece. Once again, the neck ruffle is wonderfully painted, especially considered the size.
The last of my new pieces is another locket, measuring 1¼" x 1". Painted on ivory and signed "Miers" in Field's hand, the profile is edged in black inside the gold frame. This marks it as a mourning piece. The glass case on the reverse is completely filled with braided hair, presumably from the sitter. Silhouettes were very popular as mourning jewelry as they could be copied and sent to friends and family of the deceased – a much more personal memento than a mourning ring.
I have been collecting silhouettes for years as I find them more haunting than fully painted portrait miniatures. And I am amazed at the level of detail that can be attained in simple black. I got started collecting years ago when I fell in love with a lot of about 6 silhouettes at an auction in San Francisco, and luckily placed the winning bid. As it happens, all the silhouettes shown here were also purchased at auction, this time in London. Collecting is a terrible addiction!
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
Holiday settings
A very quick post from me today, as eight days ago I gave birth to a new hoyden - my daughter, Mélanie Cordelia. We're both doing great, but I haven't had time for much beyond settling in with her this past week. However, I have been thinking about the holidays and particularly holidays in literature. My mom and I wrote a couple of Christmas novellas, but I've never written a Christmas book, like Lauren's wonderful The Mischief of the Mistletoe. However, I have had holiday scenes in a few of my books. The epilogue to Vienna Waltz takes place at a Christmas Eve party given by Dorothée Talleyrand (who really did give a party on Christmas Eve in 1814 at the French embassy in the Kaunitz Palace in Vienna). And my historical romance, Rightfully His (which I just released as an ebook on Nook and Kindle) begins over the holidays in 1822.
In both books it was fun weaving in holiday traditions - Vienna Waltz allowed me to have a Christmas tree, a custom Dorothée brought with her from Berlin. I also made a mistake in anticipating the composition of Stille Nacht by two years. It's always the things I think I know and don't look up that trip me up... Rightfully His has scenes of Yuletide decorating, aholiday party, and assembling Christmas baskets. I was trying to remember today why I chose to start the book over the holidays. I'm not sure it was a conscious decision, but I think perhaps I wanted to juxtapose the holiday cheer against the less than cheerful events that begin the story. Which is quite different from the novellas my mom and I wrote where our aim was to evoke an atmosphere of holiday warmth and cheer.
What are your favorite books or stories that feature any of the mid-winter holidays?
Monday, December 19, 2011
Word Abuse
A few of us were having a grand old time on Twitter recently with the OED. Yes, we’re geeks of first order. It was brought on by my semi-regular #RegencySlang postings, wherein I highlight words from A Classical Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue (1785/1811; yes the editions are different). I’m often surprised by words that were clearly in use at the time. Bedfordshire, for example (as in “I am for Bedfordshire”, i.e. going to bed) seems very modern to me (it’s also one of the words that’s in the 1811 edition, but not the 1785 edition). I also like to highlight strange or fun words that I think should be added to our collective Georgian/Regency vocabularies. Beau Trap is one that I love. It’s that loose stone in a cobble street that splashes dirty water onto your shoes and stockings when you step on it. Brilliant! And Bedizened (over-dressed, awkwardly ornamented, gaudy). Sounds like “bedazzled” and I think in context any reader would get it (as in this quote from the OED: “I took him for a Captain, he's so bedizen'd with Lace.”). The discussion segued (as happens on Twitter) into a mea culpa discussion about words that we knowingly use even though they’re not period. One of my main contenders is Mount. The act of climbing into the saddle (1330) or sexual intercourse (1475) are both perfectly period for my 18th century settings, but—and this is a big but for me—the use of mount as a synonym for horse is Victorian (1856). Even knowing this, I use it anyway, as I tend to write “horsey” characters and the need for synonyms is pressing.
I don’t make this decision lightly. It comes down to whether or not I think the usage breaks the historical mood and is likely to make the reader stumble and think, “When the hell was this book set again?”. And I don’t think it does. I think you could get away with “His mount snapped his teeth at the rider beside them.” in a book set in Roman Britain as well as a 21st century Texas.
a. intr. To get up on to the back of a horse or other animal (occas. on a person's shoulders) for the purpose of riding. With on, upon, †to.
c1330 (1300) Arthour & Merlin (Auch.) (1973) 9230 Þo mounted Arthour, Bohort, and Ban Wiþ alle her wi't compainie.
a. To climb on to (a partner or mate) for the purpose of sexual intercourse. Also intr.In early use freq. with punning allusion to sense 13c; and in quot. c1564 to sense 5b.
a1475
[implied in: a1475 in F. J. Furnivall Jyl of Breyntford's Test. (1871) 31 The leste fyngere on my honde Is more than he [sc. the penis], whan he dothe stonde‥Sory mowntyng come there-on. [at mounting n. 1]
a. orig. colloq. A horse, bicycle, etc., on which a person is mounted or which a person rides or drives; a horse, etc., provided for riding.
1856 ‘Stonehenge’ Man. Brit. Rural Sports 363/1 The jockey‥receiving information from the trainer as to the peculiarities of his mount.
Friday, December 16, 2011
Frankly, my dear . . .
Every single year I watch “Gone With the Wind” again, and every single year I thrill to the burning of Atlanta and Rhett’s impassioned kiss as he goes off to join the army and I weep at the sight of hundreds of wounded men lying untended in the railroad yard. This year I decided to re-read Margaret Mitchell’s book, which I haven’t done since I was 16, and I must admit I learned a great deal about writing.
First, it’s very, very difficult to read heavy dialect such as Uncle Peter’s and Mammy’s. Mitchell grew up in Atlanta, a Southerner through and through. She began working on the book in 1926 and understood instinctively that simplifying the dialect of the 1860s would not have been authentic. Consequently, I ploughed through passages like “Dis Miss Scarlett, ain’ it? Dis’ hyah Peter, Miss Pitty’s coachman. Doan step down in dat mud … “You is as bad as Miss Pitty an’ she lak a chile ‘bout gittin’ her feets wet. Lemme cahy you.”
I now understand why my editor says “go easy on using dialect.”
Second, Mitchell has pages and pages of inner thought for Scarlett, and as fascinating a character as she is, after a while the reader tires of such extensive ruminating. Today’s readers (as today’s editors understand) have much shorter attention spans; hence, passages of inner-thinking are more limited.
Third, I see why the screenwriters limited the number of characters. In the film, Scarlett’s first child, Beau, conceived with Charles Hamilton, is omitted entirely. In the book, Scarlett’s treatment of Beau as an encumbrance and an annoyance shows her selfishness, but in the film these qualities are shown through her actions, her speech, and her facial expressions. Consequently, Beau is not really needed.
I take this to heart as a writer who tends to sprinkle secondary characters here and there simply because they are interesting to me. They may add background color, but they don’t augment the plot.
Fourth, I note that the scene choices made by the screenwriters are limited to the most memorable, most character-revealing, most action-oriented ones: Ashley and Scarlett in the library at Twelve Oaks; Melanie’s birth scene; Scarlett’s discovery of her mother’s body when she returns to Tara and her oath after eating the radish; Big Sam and the “Hoss, make tracks!” line; Rhett’s proposal after Frank Kennedy’s funeral; Bonnie’s death. And of course, Melanie’s death, which for the past 25 years has left me sobbing.
As a writer I learned from the film’s screenwriters to make my scenes full of action, visually memorable, and emotionally moving.
Finally, as to the epic scope of a novel: In the book there are long, long passages of war strategy and the ups and downs of particular battles. As a history buff I thoroughly enjoyed these episodes, but as a writer I realize most readers won’t. The screenwriters limited such exposition to written summaries scrolling across the screen and a few “telling” scenes of wounded soldiers, ragged refugee, and Twelve Oaks burned out to a single staircase.
Of great interest to me as a writer is Mitchell’s method: she jotted down bits and pieces on the backs of notebooks, working from the last page to the front (I thought I was the only one who did that). She began work on the manuscript in 1926 and wrote until poor health made her stop. She forgot about it until 1935, when Macmillan Company first read it and immediately decided to publish it. Three weeks after publication in 1936, the book had sold 176,000 copies; after one year, 1,383,000 copies had been printed. In 1937 Mitchell won the Putlitzer Prize and in 1939 the motion picture version was released.
Over 20,000,000 readers have read the work; 26 foreign language editions have been printed, and it has appeared in both Braille and Talking Book forms for the blind.
To the question, “Did Scarlett get Rhett back?” Mitchell consistently said she didn’t know. To her, the book ended where it ended. In 1949, Margaret Mitchell died in Atlanta.
Each time I see “Gone With the Wind,” I note something new that a writer such as myself should pay attention to. Now I await next year’s screening . . . .
Monday, December 12, 2011
Rodney for ever
I love novelty mugs. My roommate and I have a pretty hefty collection.
And I love looking at other people's mugs when I'm in their kitchen. It's not as good as snooping in their bookshelves, of course--but then, what is?
A Lily Among Thorns has a scene where my hero makes hot chocolate for my heroine after she wakes up from a nightmare. I knew if Solomon were living today, he'd be one of those guys who owns six mismatched plates and four mugs, all of which were given him by his family ("Team Jacob" from his little sister, "Chemists do it on a table periodically" from his uncle, and a Moulin Rouge souvenir mug from his twin brother's semester in Paris). But I wasn't sure what the Regency equivalent would be. Turns out the Regency equivalent is novelty mugs! Consumer impulses haven't changed much at all. There were commemorative mugs, mugs with political cartoons on, souvenir mugs from places...
I ended up giving Solomon one that said "A Present from Swansea" (he's from Cheshire, which borders Wales), and one with Nelson's portrait on it. I took the first one directly from this lovely plate in the Swansea Museum:
It's from 1855, but I couldn't bring myself to care. I'm a little in love with this plate, to be honest.
Nelson memorabilia was a huge thing. You can see lots more of it in this Molly Joyful blog post and this auction website, but here's one of my favorites (from that second link), a Staffordshire jug with Nelson on one side and Hardy on the other. The site gives it a tentative date of 1810, but all the other similar ones I've seen were released closer to Trafalgar, so who knows. (Any Nelson/Hardy 'shippers in the house? If you haven't seen this Kate Beaton comic, you definitely should.)
Amazingly, I found another example of the EXACT SAME JUG, only painted to say "Captain Berry"! I like to imagine that it was common for girls to ask each other, "Are you Team Hardy or Team Berry?"
Here are a few of my favorites from Martyn Edgell Antiques, a great resource for these. This one was apparently put out for an election. The caption says, "Sir Philip Musgrave was elected M.P. for Westmoreland."
Why don't politicians do this now? Or do they and I just don't know about it?
Here's one that I almost want to leave without any context because it's so amazing:
Rodney for ever! You can see some more angles and the outside of the bowl at the site, here, which says "Pearlware bowl commemorating Lord Rodney, circa 1790." Turns out he's another British naval hero. My favorite line of his Wikipedia entry is probably, "In London he suggested to Lord George Germain that George Washington could 'certainly be bought--honours will do it.'" (But the whole thing is really interesting!)
I'll end with a couple of cool Queen Caroline mugs:
The site says this is to commemorate her death in 1821.
This one's in the Museum of London. Apparently the other side reads:
As for the Green-Bag crew
Justice will have its due
God Save the Queen!
Confound their politicks
Frustrate their knavish tricks
On HER our hopes we fix
God Save the Queen!
("Green-Bag crew" is a reference to the royal divorce trial, when George IV submitted the alleged evidence of his wife's adultery to the House of Lords in two green bags.)
Tell me about your favorite mug!
And I love looking at other people's mugs when I'm in their kitchen. It's not as good as snooping in their bookshelves, of course--but then, what is?
A Lily Among Thorns has a scene where my hero makes hot chocolate for my heroine after she wakes up from a nightmare. I knew if Solomon were living today, he'd be one of those guys who owns six mismatched plates and four mugs, all of which were given him by his family ("Team Jacob" from his little sister, "Chemists do it on a table periodically" from his uncle, and a Moulin Rouge souvenir mug from his twin brother's semester in Paris). But I wasn't sure what the Regency equivalent would be. Turns out the Regency equivalent is novelty mugs! Consumer impulses haven't changed much at all. There were commemorative mugs, mugs with political cartoons on, souvenir mugs from places...
I ended up giving Solomon one that said "A Present from Swansea" (he's from Cheshire, which borders Wales), and one with Nelson's portrait on it. I took the first one directly from this lovely plate in the Swansea Museum:
Nelson memorabilia was a huge thing. You can see lots more of it in this Molly Joyful blog post and this auction website, but here's one of my favorites (from that second link), a Staffordshire jug with Nelson on one side and Hardy on the other. The site gives it a tentative date of 1810, but all the other similar ones I've seen were released closer to Trafalgar, so who knows. (Any Nelson/Hardy 'shippers in the house? If you haven't seen this Kate Beaton comic, you definitely should.)
Here are a few of my favorites from Martyn Edgell Antiques, a great resource for these. This one was apparently put out for an election. The caption says, "Sir Philip Musgrave was elected M.P. for Westmoreland."
Here's one that I almost want to leave without any context because it's so amazing:
I'll end with a couple of cool Queen Caroline mugs:
As for the Green-Bag crew
Justice will have its due
God Save the Queen!
Confound their politicks
Frustrate their knavish tricks
On HER our hopes we fix
God Save the Queen!
("Green-Bag crew" is a reference to the royal divorce trial, when George IV submitted the alleged evidence of his wife's adultery to the House of Lords in two green bags.)
Tell me about your favorite mug!
Monday, December 5, 2011
New Hoyden: Rose Lerner!
I’m beyond thrilled to announce that Rose Lerner is joining History Hoydens. Rose writes the most amazing historical romances, with a Heyer-esque feel (and I mean that in the best sense possible) and heroines that are endearingly real and wonderfully tough in their own, special ways. 
Rose’s debut novel, In For a Penny, crashed into the romance world with a great deal of very positive buzz. Eloisa James called it “charming and original”. I know those words are often attached to books, but in this case they’re utterly true. Rose’s follow up, A Lily Among Thorns was equally well received. Courtney Milan claims to have loved it even more than In For a Penny, which is saying something! The fact that she was voted best debut author for 2011 by readers over at All About Romance tells its own story. Rose is also a major research wonkette, like so many of us here, so I expect her contributions to the blog will be insightful and very, very interesting.
Please join me in welcoming her to the blog!
Friday, December 2, 2011
History in the Attic
Did anyone see the 150
year old photo of slave children that has recently turned up in an attic estate sale? A rare photo, very haunting, but a testament to a dark time in American History. The boys, one who is identified as John (and who was purchased for a price of $1150) are looking straight into the camera and the sadness and suffering is so apparent. This particular photo was taken around the end of the civil war so they might have been recently freed (one can only hope) but they still look so lost.
I've found some history in the houses I have lived in: old medicine bottles with the labels still on them. Dr. Whitaker's Elixir (cures gas, chilblains, sort throats, melancholia and diarrhea....); old Civil War photos of family members who were soldiers, a post card from the front in WWI from a sad soldier who feared his sweetheart had forgotten him. I've found a stash of 1888 ceramic beer bottle caps with the brewers stamp still readable and a life-sized poster of John Wayne from the 1940s. My friend found her great grand mother's Parisian opera fan (ostrich feathers!) in a trunk, circa 1900.
Finding these things makes me think about the person who owned them and what their life was like. The monetary doesn't matter so much, but the history to me is priceless. What have you found in an attic, basement or behind the mantle piece? Anything interesting?
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Characters Downstairs
As an historical novelist writing about early 19th century aristocrats, servants inevitably play a large role in my books. Particularly valets and ladies' maids, who were intimately involved in their employers' day-to-day lives. I confess I find this a difficult relationship to juggle, and I often worry that my own modern-day sensibilities make me not do it justice. I want to be true to the period. On the other hand, there’s a wide range of behaviors in any era and people are people with the same emotions and compassion. It’s hard to believe there wouldn’t, at least in some cases, be a strong emotional bond between two people who spent as much time together as valets and ladies’ maids and their employers.
When I blogged about this on my own website, the post elicited some fascinating comments. Some pointed out that servants, particularly valets and ladies' maids, can often have interesting insights into the heroes and heroines and their situation. They are close observers of their employers' lives yet at at the same time a little removed. Our own Pam Rosenthal does this brilliantly with the heroine's maid in The Slightest Provocation. The maid is quite uncompromising about her mistress's faults and the heroine, though a very sympathetic person, is often quite blind to her maid's feelings.
Other readers pointed out that in a number of novels the heroes and their valets have served together in the military, and that these shared adventures can create a bond that breaks down class boundaries, at least to a degree. One wonderful example of this type of relationship is Dorothy Sayers's Lord Peter Wimsey and Bunter, who served together in Word War I. Neither is the sort to verbalize his feelings, but the respect and affection between them is evident. My mom and I had a hero and his valet (his former batman) with a similar sort of relationship (less formal actually) in one of our Anthea Malcolm Regencies, A Touch of Scandal.
Lord Grantham and Mr. Bates in Downton Abbey have also served together in the military. One of the things I love about Downton Abbey is the subtlety and insight with which it handles the relationships between the family and the staff. You see the intolerable nature of the whole system and yet the earl and countess are decent people who genuinely care about their staff. Which makes the fact that it’s an intolerable system all the more interesting.
One of my favorite hero/valet relationships is Lord Damerel and his valet Marston in Georgette Heyer's Venetia. Neither has been in the military, but they have had a lot of adventures together all over the Continent. Their friendship is understated but evident, and to the disapproval of some of the other servants, neither behaves precisely like a typical master and valet. I love the scene at the end where Marston congratulates Damerel and Venetia on their betrothal. Marston is one of my favorite valet characters.
In my own series, the heroine Suzanne and her maid Blanca have a distinctly atypical relationship. Both are playing roles, just as Suzanne is playing a role in her marriage and her position as a diplomatic wife. While Suzanne and Blanca conform to the roles of aristocratic lady and lady's maid in public (including to a large degree in front of Suzanne's husband) in private they are friends. Both women can be honest with each other in ways they can’t even with the men in their lives. Which is fun for me to play with as the author. Suzanne's discomfort with the whole idea of servants (while at the same time she acknowledges the luxuries of the world she lives in) reflects some of my own discomfort.
Suzanne's husband Malcolm and his valet Addison have a much more conventional relationship, yet they too have shared adventures and they too are very fond of each other, though neither would put those feelings into words. Their relationship, as a reader pointed out in the comments on my website, is based “more on action than words.” Both are hemmed in by the roles they were born to (even though Malcolm in many ways disagrees with those roles). And then there’s the fact that neither is good at putting his feelings for anyone into words – including the women they love.
What are some of your favorite valet, lady's maid, and other servant characters in books? Writers, what challenges have you faced in writing about the "downstairs" world?
Monday, November 28, 2011
Lace
Over Thanksgiving I had a discussion with a re-enactor girlfriend in which she stated that she hadn’t seen lace used much as a trimming on gowns in the Georgian era, but that she was reading it all the time in books, and it bugged her. While I agree that the use of lace (or “blond” as it was sometimes known) doesn’t appear to have been as widely used as self-fabric trims, eyelash trims, and other bits of “passimentarie”, it was used*. Here are a few examples:
Saque c. 1770s.
This silk gauze gown from the beginning of the 19th century has a large lace frill about the neckline as well as bits of matching lace on the short sleeves.
Apron-front gown c. 1810-1812
This taffeta gown as a simple lace frill all the way around the neckline.
Saque c. 1770s. This beautiful silk gown is trimmed with lace both at the edges of the bodice and sleeves as well as in patterns on the petticoat and skirts.
Round gown c. 1800-1805
This silk gauze gown from the beginning of the 19th century has a large lace frill about the neckline as well as bits of matching lace on the short sleeves.
This taffeta gown as a simple lace frill all the way around the neckline.
*It should be noted, however, that the two most common uses I see in books are lace trim on shifts/chemises or on corsets, and this IS incorrect for the era. I don’t start to see such trims on extant garments until the mid-Victorian period (c. 1850-1860).
Saturday, November 26, 2011
Thanksgiving day adventure
On Thanksgiving day I walked (along with some movie actors in "The Way")the pilgrim road to Santiago de Compostela in northern Spain! The reason I found this so fascinating and satisfying is that the movie was filmed on-site in Southern France and northern Spain, and this is the setting for my very first novel--the story of doomed love between a Muslim sheik and a Christian novice in the 12th century.
Back in 1993, I was a raw beginner at novel writing, but I got hooked one day by a photograph of a darkly handsome Arab man with the most mesmerizing expression in his eyes... and that started me thinking about what story might be behind that look. So I started in... and I wrote for 7 months, rewriting the whole thing every few chapters as I learned something new about writing fiction (after 30 years as an aerospace editor I knew nothing - absolutely nothing - about writing fiction).
Long story short: I finished this work and on a whim sent it in to Harlequin Historicals. Lo and behold, the editor who ended up with it in his (Don D'Auria's) lap liked it and sent it "upstairs" to the head editor, with a recommendation to buy. This he kindly told me when I inquired by telephone... and in a later telephone call he related the problem.
The head editor read the ending, screeched, and said "I wouldn't touch this with a ten-foot pole! It's a hot potato."
This was about the time that Salmon Rushdie had fled to London with a Muslim fatwa on his head, so I can (somewhat) understand her hesitation.
Well, not hesitation--it was flat-out rejection.
I should have been crushed, but I was too naive to be deterred. I then started another novel, a western about my grandparents' courtship on adjacent ranches in Oregon, and that book ("Western Rose") was bought by the same editor.
O frabjous day!
But each and every day since then I have mooned over my 12th century Spain love story... and that's why I loved "The Way." However, I confess I was watching the scenery so closely I missed a lot of the fine acting of the principal characters.
And that's why I'm working on this 12th century Spain story again... revising extensively because I've learned a lot in the 18 years since I first started writing fiction. And thinking again about that Arab man with the arresting face and haunting expression in his eyes . . .
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
Monday, November 21, 2011
I'm over on Man Candy Monday's blog today talking about historical films and the men we love to see in them. Tonight (6PM PST), I'll be joining the gang on Twitter under the hastag #ManCandyMonday to see everyone's contributions to the topic.Hope to see you there!
Friday, November 18, 2011
Research on the Run
As the days grow shorter and colder, I find myself looking for ways to investigate in comfort. You know, look up historical facts while wearing my pajamas and sipping hot cocoa, rather than after driving downtown and hunting down a parking spot. Or visit an eighteenth century frigate at sea, as in my photo.
Thankfully, modern technology is more than happy to ride to my aid. A laptop equipped with wireless can quickly connect me to the Internet and the wonderful variety of websites to be found there.
Tablets, such as the iPad and its Android cousins, offer even more comfortable ways to do research. When something weighs less than a pound and a half, it’s easy to slip it into a purse then pull it out later for some quick dives into history.
My household is graced with four iThings – uh, that’s members of the Apple family that can be used for research. The apps that suck me in the fastest are (in alphabetical order):
Bing: This app has the snazziest interface ever for a search app. I swear I look stuff up, just to play with it. Luscious. Free.
Bodleian: Yes, the Bodleian Library at Oxford University is digitizing their treasures in high-def. There’s truly astonishing stuff here, like ancient Roman scrolls and an unfinished manuscript from Jane Austen. There’s also a rich interactive experience, including a timeline, games, explanations from the curators, and the opportunity to suggest the next treasures to be digitized. Free.
British Library: Every 19th century book in its collection is here. Bliss, total bliss – and they keep adding more from other collections! Free.
Dictionary.Com: Free, fun, and quirky. And did I mention free?
Google Search: Hey, it’s Google, what else do I need to say? It’s nowhere near as much fun as Bing, but you need to have it, right? Free.
Oxford English Dictionary: Yes, that’s right, you too can have the entire Oxford English Dictionary on your iPad – fully searchable and in a readable font! I’m in heaven. Dictionaries for other languages are also available. $54.99
The Civil War Today: The History Channels brings you a day-by-day account of the American Civil War, complete with maps, photos, newspapers, and diaries. Plus, there’s a game and amazing factoids to surprise you, just when you thought you knew what to expect. Amazing. $5.99
Virtual History Roma: Gorgeous graphics in three dimensions and tons of facts bring to life Imperial Rome. You can zoom in and rotate objects to find hidden delights. I wish more cities and ages could be explored this way. Free.
What’s your favorite app? Do you have a website you can’t live without?
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
Blurring the Lines
Recently, I had the great honor of contributing to an anthology of stories inspired by Jane Austen (there's a reason the title of the anthology is Jane Austen Made Me Do It
!). There are some wonderful Austenian stories in there by Regency veterans such as Syrie James and Jo Beverly. Having spent a good deal of time in 1804 recently, I decided it would be fun to do something modern, something a little quirky... something involving a team of ghost hunters and a "real" Northanger Abbey. I call it my Scooby-Doo story. This has now spawned my absolute favorite angry email. My correspondent irately informed me that if I had taken five minutes to Google, as he did, I would have known that Northanger Abbey wasn't a real place. And I should be ashamed of myself. Hmph.
Okay, so he didn't actually say hmph. It was, however, highly implied.
Of course, Northanger Abbey isn't a real place. (As far as I know-- there are more things in heaven and England....) That's the fun of it. Maybe it says something about my lifelong desire to slip into the pages of the books I'm reading, but I've always enjoyed blurring the lines between fiction and fact, incorporating real people and places into fiction, and, on the opposite end, treating fictional people and places as real.
I've played this game before, with my first book,
The Secret History of the Pink Carnation
, in which the premise was that the Scarlet Pimpernel had been real, and had given rise to a host of other flowery spies, including the Purple Gentian, the Pink Carnation, and their dastardly French foe, the Black Tulip. I once overheard someone solemnly telling a friend that, naturally, I'd made up the Pink Carnation, but everyone knew the Scarlet Pimpernel had been a real person. As a former historian, there's a little fact problem there. As a writer, it de lights me that Baroness Orczy's character has become so real that people believe he existed in the flesh as well as in fiction. (And, to be fair, there was actually a spy running around France under the alias Le Mouron. Sadly, he wasn't Sir Percy Blakeney and he didn't look like Anthony Andrews. In real life, he was French and no one sought him here or there.)It always thrills me when I come across references to fiction as fact in other peoples' novels.
There's an old Regency by Elsie Lee, The Wicked Guardian
, in which a character refers disparagingly to "that Blakeney boy" who ran off to play spy in France. Sara Donati incorporates Diana Gabaldon's Claire Fraser in her Into the Wilderness
. I was, as you can imagine, over the moon when our own Mary Blayney decided to incorporate my Lord Richard Selwick into her Traitor's Kiss
.How do you feel about fictional people or events being incorporated into fiction as fact?
(And, authors, I know I probably shouldn't ask this, but I can't resist.... What's your favorite angry email?)
Sunday, November 13, 2011
Madame Pompadour's Backside
History Today's blog (URL below) is running a profile on a series of racey, humorous caricatures from the mid to late 1700's. The November issue of the journal History Today features 'The Other Cheek', and authors Colin Jones and Emily Richardson reveal who a little-known collection of obscene and irreverent caricatures targetting Madame de Pompadour from a book of drawings entitled the Livre de caricatures tant Bonnes que mauvaises.
Many of the drawings are a little--well, what should I say? They reflect French humor of the time (the image posted here is very tame compared to many of them). You can see them all here:
http://www.historytoday.com/colin-jones/madame-de-pompadour-other-cheek
The cartoonist, one of Madame Pompadour's contemporaries, told it like he saw it, that's for sure. The 'Book of Caricatures both Good and Bad' was composed over almost 30 years from the 1740s to the 1770s. The man responsible for them was Charles-Germain de Saint-Aubin, who was, from the 1740s, embroidery designer at the royal court. He never fessed up to drawing these images (it would have certianly cost him his head) but it seems like everyone knew it was him.
Powerful women in history have always intrigued me and Madame Pompadour had plenty of power. That she was the subject of such wickedly cutting cartoons is proof of her domination of the political scene at the time. Interesting to see this from era when a different kind of media ruled. No way would these cartoon ever see the light of print today. What do you think? Would a powerful woman today be publically spoofed like this? Or a man, for that matter?
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
Theatrical References
I spent this past weekend in Ashland for the closing weekend of the season at the Oregon Shakespeare Festival. Crisp air, gorgeous autumn leaves, snow-capped mountains, lovely time with friends, and a glimpse of three of our own Leslie's books prominently displayed in the Tudor Guild gift shop. And three wonderful plays, all of which I was seeing for the second (or in the case of Measure for Measure the fourth) time.One thing I noticed is that all three plays dealt with theater in a variety of ways. Saturday I saw Ghost Light, a fabulous, wrenching world premiere developed by Jonathan Moscone and Tony Taccone, written by Taccone, and directed by Moscone, It's a wonderfully theatrical play both in style (moving back and forth in time, combining elements of dream and reality) and in substance, as the central character struggles to come to terms with his father's assassination while directing a production of Hamlet. The scenes of the production team discussing how to handle the Ghost of Hamlet's father, and of Jon, the central character, working with his acting students and auditioning actors are spot-on and at moments hysterically funny.
Saturday I saw a matinee of Julius Caesar, a play, as the production notes pointed, filled with theatrical references, from the assassins meeting in the porch of Pompey's theater to the political theater of Marc Antony's funeral oration (not to mention the fact that Antony's scene where he seemingly makes peace with the conspirators just after the assassination is a brilliant piece of acting). That evening I saw Measure for Measure, another play where the story is largely played out upon the public stage (particularly in the denouement) while a key plot element involves one woman playing the part of another in a secret tryst.
During breaks between plays I was working on a sequence in my current WIP that takes place backstage at the Comédie-Française. I love theatrical references in books and plays. Actual scenes backstage and onstage become metaphors for the roles we all play - with different people, in different aspects of our lives. For the fine line between illusion and reality, for the difficulty of discerning truth amid artifice and the way that theatrical artifice can sometimes ring with truth. Reading Isobel's great interview with Joanna Bourne on Monday, I was thinking that a large part of why I love writing about spies is that like actors they too play many parts, though on a rather more dangerous stage. The sequence I was working on set at the Comédie-Française gave me lots of opportunities to play with the parallel, as it involves the escape from Paris during the White Terror of an actress who is also an agent.
Do you have favorite books that deal with theater, whether on stage or backstage? Does theater become a metaphor for other elements in the story? Writers, do you like writing scenes set in the theater? Do you get inspiration from plays?
Monday, November 7, 2011
Welcome, Joanna Bourne!
The amazing Joanna Bourne is here with us today to talk about her new release The Black Hawk. She'll also be giving away a copy to one lucky commenter! If you're like the rest of us, you're addicted to Jo's very special world of intrigue, and you're chomping at the bit to read Adrian's story...
Attacked on a rainy London street, veteran spy Justine DeCabrillac knows only one man can save her: Hawker, her oldest friend . . . her oldest enemy. London's crawling with hidden assassins and someone is out to frame Hawker for murder. The two spies must work together to find who's out to destroy them...
Black Hawk is set during the French Revolution and the Napoleonic Wars. That's from 1794, running to 1818. Is there any particular reason you chose these years? How did you become interested in this time period? What you love about it?
Romance genre was my gateway drug to the Eighteenth and early Nineteenth Century. I'll point to Georgette Heyer and her light-hearted Regencies and to Sergeanne Golon's sprawling Louis XIV world.
There's a fifty or sixty year period in the Eighteenth Century when our whole view of how people should live, and interact with one another, and be governed changed irrevocably.
When the Declaration of Independence talked about 'all men are created equal,' and 'life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness,' and 'deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed,' they are not stating old, well-established truths. These were hot new ideas.
Exciting stuff.
What do you like least about this period? Anything that constrained you or that you had to plot carefully around? Anything you flat-out altered or “fudged”? If so, why?
There's the usual lack of washing and opportunity to pick up personal wildlife. I think anybody writing fiction in the past has to deal with this.
You want to know little thing that drives me nuts?
Hats. And gloves.
Anybody respectable was walking around with a hat on their head most of the time and pretty much universally gloves. And I refuse to picture my characters wearing hats. Especially my male folks. I do not think it is manly and heroic to wear hats, and I know this is narrow minded of me and I am sorry.
So generally I don't talk about this. Or think about it. And I just wish it would all go away.
Any gaffs or mea culpas you want to fess up to before readers get their hands on the book? I know I always seem to find one after the book has gone to press. *sigh*
I think I make mistakes all the time and mostly the readers are too polite to bring these to my attention. I know I did once put a reference to a 'kept woman' living in St John's Wood in London about thirty years before this would have been common. And I made at least one mistake in the timing of some backstory once.
The most impressive Black Hawk gaff is something I didn't do myself and didn't even know about till it was far too late to prevent. It's on the stepback cover, and I'll let folks have the joy of discovering it for themselves.
Tell us a little about your hero. Something fun, like his favorite childhood pet, or his first kiss.
This next book, Black Hawk, is Adrian's book, so I'll tell you a bit about Adrian.Adrian has a cat. What happened was this:
When he was young and working for the King Thief of London -- that was a position of some prestige where he came from -- he had occasion to break into British Intelligence Service Headquarters with the intent of removing papers therefrom.
He got caught at it. This is one of those hazards of the thieving profession. And while he stuck knives into several Service agents, in the end he got subdued. His kneecap was dislocated in the process and it never did get entirely right again, which no doubt served as a reminder to avoid physical confrontation where possible. For anyone who's read some of the other books, Doyle's the one who did that to his knee.
In any case, Adrian ended up in a secure room in the attic where the Service put people they hadn't decided what to do with yet. It had a flap on the door for passing food in.
Adrian was laid up on a mat with his leg strapped to a board. This was tedious for him, even though he had the excitement of waiting for the Service to turn him over to the hangman. A bumbling six-week-old kitten pushed through the door flap every day. Adrian called it 'Cat' and started feeding it the best of his food and teaching it to fetch and so on.
It was Adrian's treatment of Cat that told the British Service the boy was worth keeping alive.
What sparked this book? Was it a character? An historical event? A scene you just couldn’t get out of your head?
I had some readers mention that they'd like to see a book with Adrian as the main character. I guess I was responding to that, initially. But when I started thinking about it, I got excited by the idea of giving Adrian his own happy ending.
I really like him as a character.
Did you have to do any major research for this book? Did you stumble across anything really interesting that you didn’t already know?
I always have to do major research.
Research on the Louvre building. There was a lot of that.
Research on assassination attempts on Napoleon. People just kept doing this, did you know? Going after that man with poison and pistol. I had no idea.
So I sat down and asked myself how one would go about killing the man and it turns out somebody or other had tried just about everything under the sun, so I was authentic no matter what I did.
I guess what surprised me most was that one of the earliest fire extinguishing pumps ever was installed in the Louvre just before my story takes place. So cool.
What/Who do you like to read?
I mostly read nonfiction, when I'm kicking my feet up and relaxing. I do enjoy journals and letters of the period I'm writing in. My fiction is a pretty mixed bag. Some Romance, some Fantasy, and the occasional mystery.
Right now I'm reading Stephen King's On Writing, Thomas Allen's George Washington, Spymaster, (Spymaster. Now that's a good title,) William McNeil's Plagues and People, and Alfred Cobham, Aspects of the French Revolution.
In fiction I've been doing a bunch of YA lately. Recently finished Julie Kagawa's The Iron King, Mary Stewart's Merlin trilogy, and Mercedes Lackey's The Fire Rose. I'm in the middle of Mary Jo Putney's Kiss of Fate. Next on the fiction bookshelf are Joann Ross', Out of the Mist, Emma Bull, War for the Oaks and Rhys Bowen, Her Royal Spyness.
Care to share a bit about your writing process? Are you a pantser or a plotter? Do you write multiple drafts or clean up as you go?
I have been trying to outline more and plan more so I don't end up doing these multiple drafts. I hate to write my way down a blind alley and then have to throw out lovely writing.
So you could call my method, 'in transition.'
What are you planning to work on next?
This book that's coming out now is Black Hawk. It's Adrian's story, as I say.
In Black Hawk, we have a spy for England and a spy for France, one each. Adrian Hawkhurst and Justine DeCabrillac. In the small spy community of Europe, everybody knows everybody else. These two have been friends and enemies and cautious allies and sometimes lovers.
But they can't be together. They can never wholly trust each other. This business of being on opposite sides in a long war is a complicating factor of great magnitude.
Now, after the war is over, someone's out to kill Justine . . . And frame Hawker for the deed.
The story after this, getting to your question, is Pax's story.
Friday, November 4, 2011
Gauchos and Gumption
Gauchos were the residents of the South American pampas or Patagonian grasslands, found in Argentina, Uruguay, Southern Chile and Southern Brazil. Loosely, the word is the South American equivalent of “cowboy,” (vaquero in Spanish), and, like that of his North American counterpart, it’s mostly a 19th century term.
Theories as to origins of the gaucho vary. The term may derive from the Mapuche cauchu (“vagabond”) or the Quecha huachu (“orphan”). The first recorded uses of the term date from the time of Argentine independence in 1816. At one time, gauchos made up most of the rural population in Argentina, herding cattle and practicing hunting in addition to serving as guerrilla fighting forces.
Cattle came to the pampas from Paraguay in 1580. In the 18th century, the gauderios, who lived by hunting wild cattle, were recorded by the travel writer Alonso Carrio de la Vandera when he passed through northern Argentina. Commercial cattle ranching began in the second half of the 18th century.
My grandfather, who ran cattle on the Argentine pampas from 1910 to 1913, told me the gauchos were descendents of the native Indians who escaped over the mountains from Chile during periods of political oppression. The gauchos who worked for my grandfather, Claude Banning, were a tough, scrappy-looking lot; some even looked astonishingly young.
They were hardworking, loyal, good-humored, and, yes, prone to violence (see photo). They were also generous and gentle toward womenfolk (my grandmother, Marie Banning, and her mother-in-law, Lizzie Rice Banning). My grandfather and his brother, Ray, admired them so much they adopted the typical gaucho dress—bombaches and a serape of sorts, plus a gaudy woven sash (see photo).
Gauchos were nomadic, living on the pampas--the plain that extends from Patagonia, bounded on the west by the Andes and extending to the east to Uruguay and the Brazilian state of Rio Grande do Sul, which belonged to the Spanish Crown for over two centuries before it became a Portuguese possession in 1750. Most gauchos were of Spanish and/or Portuguese and/or Amerindian (native American) ancestry; they lived by hunting wild cattle, both for meat and for leather.
The gaucho plays an important symbolic role in the nationalistic feelings of the Argentine pampas. As depicted in the poem “Martin Fierro,” by Jose Hernandez, the national epic of Argentina, the gaucho is a symbol of forces against corruption. Pitted against Europeanising forces, Martin Fierro, the hero of the poem, is drafted into the Argentine military for a border war; he deserts and becomes an outlaw and fugitive. The image of the free gaucho is thus often contrasted to the slaves who worked in the northern Brazilian lands.
During the wars of the 19th century against the dominance of the Spanish Crown, the cavalries on all sides were composed almost entirely of gauchos. In Argentina, gaucho armies slowed Spanish advances and many caudillos relied on gaucho armies to control the Argentine provinces.
Gauchos were generally reputed to be strong, honest, silent types but proud and capable of violence when provoked. Their use of the facon (a large knife generally tucked into the rear of the gaucho sash) is legendary, often associated with considerable bloodletting. Historically, the facon was the only eating instrument that a gaucho carried.
Like his North American cowboy counterpart, gauchos were proud and they were also great horsemen. A gaucho’s horse was almost all he owned in the world. The gaucho diet consisted almost entirely of beef while on the range, supplemented by yerba maté, an herbal tea-like drink rich in caffeine and nutrients.
The gaucho dressed quite distinctively, and they used bolas or boleadoras (three leather-bound rocks tied together with leather straps, in addition to the North American lariat or riata. The typical gaucho outfit included a poncho, which doubled as both saddle blanket and sleeping gear, a facon (knife), a rebenque (leather whip) and loose-fitting trousers called bombaches, belted with a woven cloth tirador or a chiripa. In winter gauchos wore heavy wool ponchos.
Just as the disappearance of the “wild west” altered the character and employment of cowboys, so did the nature of gauchos change. But their image still suggests high adventure and romance.
For my grandfather, memories of the gauchos he rode with on the Argentine plains stayed with him all his life. Granddad’s most prized possession was a maté cup given to him by his foreman when the family left Argentina and returned to the States. Until the day he died, this cup hung on Granddad’s bedroom wall, along with his woven striped wool sash, his silver-handled revolver, and a framed ink drawing of the Banning cattle brands.
Source: Gauchos & Gumption: My Argentine Honeymoon, by Lynna Banning (to be published in January 2012 by Turquoise Morning Press). Photos by Marie Banning.
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