The Dashwood Sisters Tell All by Beth Pattillo

I managed to get this book read - absolutely necessary if I have any possibility of completing The Sense and Sensibility Bicentenary Challenge, issued by Austenprose - by reciting it to my husband as we drove ten hours to Indiana to celebrate Christmas. I have wondered about the books of Beth Pattillo before but never read them, not being super keen on Austenesque set in the present, so this was a welcome opportunity to expand my horizons a bit. The Dashwood Sisters Tell All is about two sisters (shocking, I know) who travel to England to attend a Jane Austen themed walking tour as part of their mother's dieing request. The mother, being a attentive Janeite, knew the importance of documenting her final wishes rather than simply relying on a promise to do as she wished. John Dashwood, after all, certainly intended to fulfill his father's request to care for his sisters, amply demonstrating how good intentions often go to waste. Before Ellen and Mimi Dodge can inherit their mother's estate, they must attend this tour and choose a place to scatter her ashes, and they also must determine what to do with a most unusual item that had been in her possession - Cassandra Austen's diary.

I challenge any Austen lover to read this book without drooling over the prospect of Cassandra's diary. Such an item, as the characters in the book are so good as to continually assert, would be priceless. One of the most intriguing parts of this story is reading some of those imagined entries. Ms. Pattillo envisions a new romance for Jane that drives her behavior in some of the most debated episodes of her life, like the flirtation with Tom Lefroy and Harris Bigg-Wither's proposal. The whole concept is extremely juicy and compelling, but I found myself dissatisfied at the end. The problem with this book is not the premise, which is fabulous, but the characters. Like every Sense and Sensibility modernization I have read during the course of this challenge, the modern versions of Eleanor and Marianne annoyed the heck out of me.

Why is it that when Eleanor and Marianne are transformed into 21st century women they become frigid and ditsy? I noticed this in The Three Weissmanns of Westport by Cathleen Schine and Jennifer Ziegler's Sass & Serendipity. Do the Dashwood ladies just not translate into our modern world, or have they not been done justice? I think it is a case of the latter. In this story, Ellen is cast as the practical one while behaving as if her head was sewn on backwards. Here she is in possession of an invaluable article that she insists on hiding it in her hotel room, repeatedly foreshadowing its eventual theft (I do not consider that tidbit a spoiler as it is blatantly apparent that this is precisely what will happen almost as soon as the diary is introduced). I felt like reaching into the book and smacking her. She also completely lacks Eleanor's keen perception of character and empathy, as demonstrated in her paranoid misreading of her Edward's intentions. Mimi is the pretty vivacious one with a knack for falling for the wrong guy. I think I would have been more satisfied with her portrayal if she hadn't kept complaining that no one thought she was smart while acting like an idiot. Should it not be the cardinal rule of all Austen homages that characters display their essence through actions? A person who asserts one thing while behaving in an opposite fashion is the profile for a Lucy Steele or Fanny Dashwood, not our heroine.

Overall, despite my complaints, the book kept us well entertained though our car trip (the baby, in her infinite mercy, slept almost the entire way). I would love to attend a walking tour like the one described here. The Dodge sisters visit all the great Austen locals, from Steventon to Winchester. The story is, in many ways a Janeite fantasy come true, which is precisely what makes the main characters' shortcomings so annoying. I would love to further elaborate on my response to this book, but as I am just barely managing to get this post completed before the end of the year (and I still have one more review to go before the challenge can be considered complete - stay tuned!), I will conclude by simply saying that I do intend to read Ms. Pattillo's other books, but I am not in a rush to do so.   

Sass & Serendipity by Jennifer Ziegler

Upon receiving an email from Jennifer Ziegler's publicist, asking if I would be interested in reviewing her new young adult novel inspired by Sense & Sensibility, I was happy to agree for three reasons: 1) with the new baby, young adult lit conforms to my attention span, 2) the book would count towards my completion of the Sense & Sensibility Bicentenary Challenge, and 3) I love free books. Sass & Serendipity fulfilled my expectations, providing me with a quick and easy read - the perfect source of light entertainment while breast pumping (about the only time I have the opportunity to read these days). Though the book bears little resemblance to Austen's novel, except in its focuses on two sisters of differing personalities, it kept me engaged and amused, a rather impressive feat when one considers that I could barely tolerate the main characters.

Gabby and Daphne live in the imaginary Texan town of Barton with their divorcee mom. Gabby, the older sister, copes with her extreme anger at her father and feelings of abandonment following her parent's divorce, emotions that have left her bitter and alienated from everyone in the town except her best friend, Mule. Daphne, on the other hand, is peppy and popular, having managed to maintain a rather naive sense of romantic idealism in spite of her broken home life. The story focuses on Gabby dropping the chip on her shoulder, while Daphne gains a more realistic perspective on love and romance.

Though Daphne's story does in ways resemble Marianne Dashwood's experience, Gabby, while cast as the "responsible" sister, is nothing at all like Elinor. Instead of inspiring admiration, I actually found myself hating her, as her negative energy taints everything around her. She continuously accuses Daphne of selfishness when she is equally so, revealing herself to be completely lacking in Elinor's self-perception and consideration. Daphne too, while more tolerable than Gabby, lacks the intelligence and conviction that makes Marianne so appealing in spite of her flaws. However, there is a chance this criticism is unfair. I usually avoid young adult novels, as they tend to be a bit emotionally transparent for my taste, and perhaps that is what really bothers me about these characters. Those who enjoy the genre might be more tolerant.

For me the bottom line is that if Sass & Serendipity inspires a young reader to pick up Austen's first novel, it is worth its weight in gold, but for those already familiar with her masterpieces of literature, this book doesn't particularly add to ones appreciation. Nevertheless, as I said at the beginning of this post, it was the perfect light read for me to pick up and put down again when able to grab those few moments available to me. I recommend it to any of you who find yourselves in similar circumstances and need something to just pick up now again. 

And the winner of The Three Weissmanns of Westport Giveaway is.....

...the only person who entered! Not much of a rousing competition, but I do sincerely hope that Laura of Laura's Reviews will enjoy the book, and it gives me great pleasure to bestow it upon someone who is sure to appreciate it. Though this giveaway failed to garner enthusiasm, I do want to reiterate what I said in my review of the book (read it here), and that is that the story is an excellent read, even though a somewhat odd Sense and Sensibility modernization. I do have a backlog of further reviews to write, as well as more giveaways to look forward to, but I am afraid that my spare time this week has been dominate by my efforts to read all the stories entered in the Jane Austen Made Me Do It Short Story Contest. Several are simply marvelous (making me feel rather bashful about my own modest entry, entitled "Henry and Maria"), and I urge you all to devour as many as you can, as well as vote for your favorites, before the contest ends on February 28th. I think I will indulge myself right now by reading another before continuing with the work I am supposed to be doing. Congratulations Laura! You'll hear from me shortly.

Giveaway! The Three Weissmanns of Westport by Cathleen Schine

Picador (whose excellent book club you can follow on Facebook - check it out at http://www.facebook.com/PicadorBookClub) was so kind as to not only provide me with a freebie copy of The Three Weissmanns of Westport (read my review here), a Sense and Sensibility modernization by Cathleen Schine, but also to allow me the opportunity to giveaway one copy of the book! Unfortunately, I must limit participation to U.S. residents. If you would like to be the lucky winner, just leave a comment, including your email address, by Wednesday, February 16th. If you would like a second chance to win, please state in your comment what you would like to see in a Sense and Sensibility modernization. And don't forget to check out The Sense and Sensibility Bicentenary Challenge 2011, hosted by Austenprose, to celebrate 200 blissful years of Austen in print. Good luck!

The Three Weissmanns of Westport by Cathleen Schine

This is going to be a difficult review to articulate. To put it bluntly, while I really enjoyed The Three Weissmanns of Westport as a work of fiction, I have great issues with it as a Sense and Sensibility modernization. While certain characters and plot twists are, undoubtedly, based upon Austen's first published novel, thematically it is worlds away. So while I feel the need to critique Cathleen Schine's departure from Austen, I also have to praise her for writing a novel that touched me deeply.

Here's the premise. Joseph Weissmann, successful businessman, falls in love with an employee, Felicity, and decides to divorce his wife of forty-eight years, Betty. Betty has two daughters from a previous marriage, Annie and Miranda, who were raised by Joe as his own. Annie, the elder sister, has two grown sons who she has raised on her own, her husband having long ago disappeared and subsequently died. Miranda has flit from one love affair to the next while relishing her lifestyle as a literary agent, a career which falls apart in conjunction with her parents divorce. In the scene that most resembles Sense and Sensibility, Joe and Felicity (whose relationship is not shared with the Weissmann ladies) have the conversation that leads to Betty abandoning her Central Park West apartment and relocating to Westport, Connecticut, accompanied by her daughters:

"I will be generous to my wife," Joe told Felicity. "After all, I did spend almost fifty years of my life with the woman." When he said the words "my wife", it made Felicity glare at him. But he didn't notice, for when he said the word "fifty" it made him sad and confused. That was more than half his ife. What was he doing? He was too old to be starting out fresh. But when the word "old" passed through his thoughts, that heavy, gloomy syllable, followed so closely by the word "fresh", his doubt passed and he uttered the word "woman" as if Betty were a rude ticket taker at a tollbooth, a stranger with her unmanicured hand out, and Felicity's glare softened.

"Of course you'll be generous," Felicity said. "You are a generous man. Anything you do will be generous, Joe." She took his hand and kissed it. "And I will help you, Joe," she said. "I'll help you be generous."

"Naturally I'll give her the apartment," Joe said. "It seems only right. We've lived in it all our lives. She's put so mch work into it. It's her baby."

Felicity had seen the apartment. In a magazine. It sparkled and gleamed with a comforting Old World charm. Or so the magazine said. To Felicity, it just looked big and luscious, though the various shades of cream could do with a splash of color, and some of the furniture seemed a bit rickety, antique or no antique. She would like to live in such an apartment. But she said, "Naturally." Then she looked thoughtfully at Joe, who sat on her own sofa in her own living room, a perfectly respectable place in Lincoln Towers that had once had a view of the Hudson River. She stood up and peered out the window at the Trump Towers that now blocked that view. "You bought that place for a song, didn't you?" she asked.

Joe smiled. "We did. We never missed a mortgage payment, either."

"You never missed a mortgage payment," Felicity corrected him.

"Yes, of course. That's true."   


"Paid it from your salary?"


"Well, who else's salary would there be?" he asked. "Betty never worked a day in her life. Never had to. You know that."


Felicity did know that. She, on the other hand, had worked many days in her life.


"But it was her money that made the down payment," Joe added. He though of himself as a fair man.


"A mere song," Felicity said. "You said so yourself."


Joe considered this. "Yes. Five thousand dollars down. Can you imagine?"


"And now the apartment is worth - what? Three million?"


"Oh, at least."


Felicity was silent, letting the implication sink in.


"That's quite a return on a five-thousand-dollar investment, isn't it?" he said.


"I suppose the upkeep is very high these days."


Joe nodded.


"It's really a burden, that big old place," Felicity said. "Poor Betty. I don't envy her. At her age."


"She ought to downsize," Joe said. "We should sell the place, and she can take her share and buy something a little more realistic."


"Joe, you really are a generous man," Felicity said. "And self-sacrificing, too."


He looked at her blankly. He knew he was generous and self-sacrificing, but just for a moment he could not quite make out how this act of taking half her proceeds, rather than none, fit that description. Then Felicity said, "But what about the taxes? There will be hardly anything left from the sale after taxes. Poor Betty." She saw it was six o'clock and made him his drink. "It really will be a burden on her, much more than on you. You have so many deductions. She doesn't. Not having a business." 


Joe was not a stupid man; but he loved that big, airy apartment Betty had made so comfortable for him, and he loved Felicity. Obviously the apartment would be too much for Betty to handle, he told himself. How could he have been so thoughtless, so insensitive?


"At her age," Felicity murmured again, as if reading his thoughts.


The apartment was far more suitable for him and Felicity. She was young and energetic. He was neithr, but he was so used to the place. Was it fair that he should be thrown out of his own home just to pay good money to the government? It would be very bad judgement. It would bankrupt Betty with taxes. It would be cruel.


And so it was decided. Joe would be generous and keep the apartment.

This vividly invokes that remarkable second chapter of Sense and Sensibility, in which John and Fanny Dashwood discuss how to (or not to) assist Mrs. Dashwood and her daughters, and, to be fair, Felicity is the character in this novel who most resembles her model, consistently reminding readers of the odious Fanny. But this passage also begins to reveal the stark difference between Ms. Schine's story and Austen's. While Fanny's manipulation of John is highly humorous in its duplicity, Felicity's maneuvers are depressing. I am the daughter of divorcees and know far too well how a man, no matter how good his intentions, can be worked upon to take a perspective detrimental to his former family. Maybe this book holds more comedy in it for a reader who does not relate so well to the situation, as the testimonies on the cover praise its hilarity, wit, and satire. I found nothing humorous in this novel. It was moving, yes, but it made me want to cry, not laugh.

Let's return, for the moment, to the ways in which the story mimics Sense and Sensibility. The male cast is fairly consistent. We have an Edward (Felicty's brother, Frederick Barrow), a Willoughby (Kit Maybank), a pretty accurate Colonel Brandon (who goes by his last name, Roberts, alone), and even a Sir John Middleton (Cousin Lou, who owns the bungalow in Westport that the Weissmanns retreat to). We also, out of necessity, have our Lucy Steele, reincarnated as Amber (I don't think she is ever given a last name). Yet our heroines don't exactly match up. Annie is far less resigned than Elinor. Though unmistakably the pragmatic sister, she resents that role, and is more inclined to bicker with Miranda like a child than to try and actively improve her. Miranda might have all the flightiness of Marianne, but not being a teenager, she comes off as rather shallow instead of the deeply feeling character Austen created. Furthermore, the end is nothing like that of Sense and Sensibility. These characters, in their modern guises, do not follow the same course as their Regency counterparts, and the result is far less happy and conclusive.

What made me read this book almost straight through, staying up until the early morning hours in order to finish it, had little to do with Jane Austen. I must admit that a lot of my fascination with the book has to do with the fact that we are dealing with secular, East Coast Jews, who in so many ways resemble my own relatives. Betty, with her optimistic outlook in the face of impending disaster, and her care taking tendencies, reminds me so much of my maternal grandmother, who I lived with for many years and lost in 2004. Since my pregnancy, I have missed her more than ever. Annie and Miranda, too, could almost be my mother and her older sister: one stoically practical, and the other unpredictably emotional, yet irresistibly charming. This book is so real; for me, it is painfully so. I don't know if all Janeites will find Ms. Schine's novel as relateable as I do. In fact, I rather doubt it. But it is a wonderful piece of fiction, capturing the personalities and attitudes of a particular American experience in heartrending detail. This book provides my forth review for the The Sense and Sensibility Bicentenary Challenge, hosted by Austenprose. I was fortunate enough to receive my copy of the book for free, courtesy of the publisher, Picador (follow their book club at http://www.facebook.com/PicadorBookClub), and I will now be passing it along to my mother. I cannot wait to hear her thoughts on it.

Dancing With Mr. Darcy: Stories Inspired by Jane Austen and Chawton House

Ever since I learned of the existence of Dancing with Mr. Darcy, I have been aching to read this collection of twenty short stories inspired by Jane Austen and Chawton House Library. Now I wish I had waited until October 19th, when the US edition comes out, rather than importing a copy from the UK. The collection did not live up to my expectations. First of all, there is a noticeable absence of both dancing and Mr. Darcy. Secondly, though many of the stories were sweet, rather than having clear Austen connections most only vaguely invoke my favorite lady. The majority of the book resembles modern memoir more than Austen. It may not be very highbrow to say so, but I would have far more enjoyed a collection of pure JAFF. As a result, I have been at a bit of a loss regarding how to proceed with this review, and have decided to restrain myself to only commenting on those tales I found superior to the rest, not wishing to turn this post into little more than a rant about which most annoyed me.

I feel I must mention the winning story from the competition that compelled this collection of stories, which is also the first in the book. Entitled Jane Austen over the Styx, Victoria Owens tells the tale of Austen's descent into Hades, where she is confronted by her older female characters, accusing her of portraying them in a negative light. Our witty, fast-thinking Jane offers no better defense than showing younger woman negatively as well, using the interactions between Emma Woodhouse and Miss Bates as her example. It's a cute a whimsical story, but it infuriated me as much as it entertained.

I much prefer the second story in the collection. Second Thoughts by Elsa A Solender tells of the evening Jane Austen said yes to an offer of marriage from Harris Bigg-Wither, following her thoughts into the morning when she changes her mind. This is one of my favorite stories in the collection, and I wish most were in a similar vein.

The forth story was quite whimsical. In The Delaford Ladies' Detective Agency, Elizabeth Hopkinson casts a mature Elinor Ferrars in the role of local sleuth, whose skills are required when a house party at Delaford is thrown into fear by a phantom embroiderer, covertly working on the ladies' sewing projects in the night.

The eighth story is called Miss Austen Victorious by Esther Bellamy. While I found it, quite frankly, a bit weird, it's nevertheless an enjoyable tale that transplants Mrs. Bennet to WWII England, where she is ironically engaged in directing a dramatization of Pride and Prejudice.

Number nine is another of my favorites: Cleverclogs by Hilary Spiers. It is the story of a young bookworm who forges a special bond with her grandmother through Austen's novels. I could deeply relate to this story and consider it one of the few masterpieces in the collection.

I really enjoyed what Kelly Brendel did with the the twelfth story, Somewhere, in which she tells the story of the Mansfield theatrics from Mrs. Grant's perspective. She demonstrates great empathy for this often overlooked character.

One Character in Search of her Love Story Role by Felicity Cowie is the sixteenth story, an amusing meta analysis of the continuity in character types. It forges an interesting relationship between Jane Bennet and Jane Eyre that is sure to entertain.

Story nineteen is entitled We Need to Talk About Mr. Collins, by Mary Howell. It is a terribly depressing story about a modern Charlotte enjoying her regular appointment with her hairdresser, Eliza, that does much to boost sympathy for Miss Lucas' famously unromantic perspective of marriage.  

O.K. Despite my best intentions, I cannot help myself but include one rant. The story that infuriated me more than any other was number fifteen, The Jane Austen Hen Weekend by Clair Humphries. All I will allow myself to say is that I would hope any intelligent woman, let alone four, would know to turn off the water on an overflowing toilet rather than let it run all over a historical home. I'll say no more on the subject.

Has anyone else read this book and felt similarly disappointed? I'd like to hear what others think. In the meantime, if you are looking for a truly satisfying collection of Austen-based short stories, I highly recommend pursuing Jane Greensmith's Intimations of Austen (read my review here) instead.

The Importance of Being Emma by Juliet Archer

The Importance of Being Emma is the first Austen modernization I have read that I absolutely adored. Having long been reluctant to read modernizations, the first few I have tentatively pursued were enjoyable, but not mind boggling. Juliet Archer has boggled my mind. The thing is, I believe that reading The Importance of Being Emma has taught me something fundamental about Emma that I never knew before: how to hate Emma Woodhouse.

I have never really understood why everyone seems to dislikes Miss Woodhouse so much. Yes, she's egotistical and meddlesome, but I identify with her more than with any of Austen's other heroines and proudly display my badge bearing Gwynth Paltrow's picture from the "Which Austen heroine are you?" quiz (see the sidebar). Yet Ms. Archer's modern portrayal of her made my skin crawl. I need to dwell on this for a moment, though I do not mean to criticize the novel, which I loved. Please do not misunderstand the nature of the following rather snippy complaints. It is just that the opportunity to lend my voice to the ranks of those who detest Emma is too novel to waste.

Emma Woodhouse is the new marketing director at Highbury Foods, her family's business. Fresh from an impressive college career, she sets out to bring the old fashioned company her father runs into the 21st century. Perhaps her cause would be aided if she dressed a bit more professionally. As the book opens, she is dismayed by a magazine article featuring a very leggy image of herself but does not learn from this incident to present herself less sexually. The descriptions of her clothing are remarkable. Stilettos, plunging necklines, and skintight skirts are apparently quite unexceptional office attire. I love what she wears to the company Christmas party:

Stunning dress, white and strapless and hugging her body as though she'd been poured into it. Hair falling in glossy waves around her face. Eyes and lips provocatively defined, as if daring someone to accuse her of wearing too much make-up.

Such an ensemble doesn't exactly correspond to what all the female executives I have ever known are likely to wear at a company function, especially those who work at conservative, family-run businesses. Furthermore, she's caddy, selfish, and, in summation, the kind of woman I wouldn't be adverse to running over with my car. Is this not what most fans feel for Austen's Emma Woodhouse?

So why did I love this book so much while positively loathing the heroine? It has everything to do with Mark Knightley. This too makes me feel at one with many of my fellow Janeites, all adoration for Mr. Knightley while despising his lady love. Ms. Archer's development of his character takes him beyond the staid Regency gentleman we know and love, presenting him as an incredibly passionate, socially conscious, and far from perfect modern man. The book is structured so the point of view switches back and forth between Emma and Mark, allowing us inside his head and revealing the not so very gentlemanly thoughts he has. When reading period JAFF, I have a very hard time with the heroes and heroines being presented sexually, but have found that sexual content does not bother me nearly so much when the stories are transposed to the modern era. Mark Knightley is an extremely sexy and sensual character. I found myself unable to put the book down as I waited for Emma to stop scheming and the perspective to flip back to Mark and his struggle over his feelings for Emma. All the intense emotion we imagine Austen's George Knightley to masterly repress is conveyed in indulgent detail through Mark's voice. For example, note the clarity of his emotions upon meeting the modern Frank Churchill:

I walked into the room and stopped short.


They were on the sofa together, their knees almost touching; he was half turned towards her, his hand on her arm. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes sparkled. I couldn't see all of his face, but I knew who he was, instantly.


Flynn Churchill.


Several seconds passed before Emma noticed me. 'Oh, there you are,' she said, dismissively, and looked straight back at him. 'Flynn, this is Mark Knightley, I'm sure Tom will have mentioned the name.'


He jumped to his feet and tried to win me over with the same engaging grin I'd seen in that photo-shrine on the Westons' sideboard. We shook hands - he wasn't as limp-wristed as I'd have liked - and I schooled my features into a mask of polite indifference; inside, I was wishing him miles away.


So he'd finally shown up in Highbury, after all those false boasts and empty promises. Putting the Westons to great inconvenience, no doubt; I vaguely remembered Emma saying he wasn't expected until the end of the week. And, with impeccable timing, he'd decided to visit Hartfield at a critical moment between Emma and me.


I took a seat opposite them and willed her to look at me. All in vain; it became increasingly obvious that I may as well not be in the room. He was centre stage, the focus of her attention.


I'd only just met him, yet I hated him - more than I'd ever hated anyone in my life.

The book held me totally riveted from beginning to end. A nice touch were the chapter titles, named in honor of the food industry interests of the Woodhouse and Knightley families, each a course in the grand feast Ms. Archer presents for our delectation. Though I will continue to love and defend Austen's Emma Woodhouse, I have to admit that I never thought I would enjoy disliking a version of her so much. It has been a most enlightening experience, and I cannot wait to see if Ms. Archer causes a similar revolution in my persepective of Persuasion, my favorite Austen novel, in her next book in the Jane Austen in the 21st Century series, Persuade Me. You can learn more about the series and read an excerpt on Ms. Archer's website.

The Man Who Loved Pride and Prejudice by Abigail Reynolds

I never read this book when it was titled Pemberley by the Sea, as at that time I was not reading Austen modernization. But, having opened my mind to the genre, it seemed Abigail Reynolds was the logical writer to turn to. I have long admired her Pemberley Variations and had heard many good things about Pemberley by the Sea, so when The Man Who Loved Pride and Prejudice was released, I immediately put it in my to be read pile.

Cassie Boulton is a tenure-track marine biologist at Haverford College working on Cape Cod for the summer when she meets Calder Westing III, the heir to a Kennedy-esque family of politicians. Cassie believes her background - thoroughly blue collar Chicago - an insurmountable obstacle to friendship, let alone a romance, with Calder, but, just like Mr. Darcy, there proves to be far more to the man than meets the eye.

This is a sweet, romantic story, and a thoroughly American approach to the Pride and Prejudice dynamic (especially in regards to the communications dilemmas). While I enjoyed the read, I am afraid I am finding my initial prejudices against modernization to be somewhat justified. When you take Elizabeth and Darcy's story and place it into the modern context, while it makes for a pleasant romance, it just lacks the charm, at least for me, that a tale set in the Regency possesses. Nevertheless, Ms. Reynolds' adaptation of technology into the story is very well done. For example, this series of email communications between Cassie and Calder does a fine job of capturing the spirit of Elizabeth and Darcy:

I'm looking forward to seeing Haverford and meeting some of those students you're teaching how to think. Here's hoping they don't eat me alive--it's not as if I've ever taught anything in my life
          Calder


It's easy. Just listen to them, and talk to the like they're adults. You'll do fine.
          Cassie


Talk?? Me? I hope they don't expect the seminar to last over five minutes!
          Calder


Now, now, I've heard you talk very nicely on occasion. Sometimes ever four or five words at a stretch. We'll advertise you as laconic.
          Cassie

Very cute, but still I prefer Ms. Reynolds other books (which I praised here). Perhaps I'm just a sucker for bonnets and cravats - if so, at least I'm in good company.

Perfect Fit by Linda Wells and Deception by Ola Wegner

I said I would review these books back in June, having read them in May (pre-move), but I just never got around to it. So today I'm just going to give a quick review of each so they can leave my desk and finally migrate to the bookshelf.

I really enjoyed Linda Wells previous books, Chance Encounters and Fate and Consequences (read my reviews here), despite the fact that they are far too sexy for my tastes. I've actually now reread Chance Encounters twice (skipping over the sex scenes cuts it in half), and so when I decided to give a modern Pride and Prejudice adaptation a chance - a thing which I have always resisted doing - I turned again to Miss Wells and her most recent book, Perfect Fit: A Modern Tale of Pride and Prejudice. It was amusing: basically also a "What if?", like her earlier novels, with a heavy Cinderella theme. Elizabeth is a writer living with her sisters in their parents apartment building. She meets billionaire Darcy at a wedding planned by her sister, Jane, for his cousin, Anne. It's love at first sight. Together they bridge the social gap between their two worlds and help their relatives achieve happiness. Not all of the pairings work out as Austen envisioned them, which keeps the book compelling. My favorite parts involved visiting Darcy's ancestral home (Pemberley, of course), but Elizabeth and Darcy engaged in modern jet setting isn't nearly as appealing to me as visions of their life in Regency England, though it does make the sex scenes a bit more easy to take. I also didn't particularly care for Ms. Wells continuous quoting of cheesy love songs. I think I will try other modernization, but so far they are as expected. No number of Jimmy Choos will ever be as exciting for me as bonnets and muslin.

Ola Wegner recently published two books, both in the "What if?" style: Deception: A Tale of Pride and Prejudice and Apprehension and Desire: A Tale of Pride and Prejudice. I decided to buy one to read before committing myself financially to both. Unfortunately, I found Deception a bit of a disappointment. It began with great promise with the introduction of another suitor for Elizabeth's hand, a Mr. John Brooke. I thought the character very compelling at first, but Ms. Wegner's further handling of him felt inconsistent and unsatisfying, though she certainly achieved shocking. I do not want to give too much away by elaborating, but I found parts of the book (one scene in particular) appalling. Generally, I thought the first half of the book much better than the second, during which the narrative kind of falls apart as Ms. Wegner turns to plot twists and shock and awe to drive the story to its end. With a little tweaking it could be far more satisfying.