tisdag 28 oktober 2014

The Fortune Hunter and the cattiness-inducing Sisi

A while back, I read and enjoyed Daisy Goodwin's second historical novel, The Fortune Hunter. In many ways it reminded me of her first one, My Last Duchess. It's deftly plotted, taking the reader from one attractive set piece to the next. It has most of the ingredients I look for in an historical novel with a dash of romance - balls, hunts, country-house parties, misbehaving royals and, as a bonus, Austrian-Hungarian officers making out. On the down-side, as in My Last Duchess, I didn't care a great deal for the characters, with the exception of the charming American photographer Caspar Hewes who's always good fun when he appears ("Lady D said you wanted to be alone, so of course I came at once").

The novel centres around a love triangle between Charlotte Baird, an heiress passionately interested in photography, Bay Middleton, a rake passionately interested in hunting and the Empress Elisabeth of Austria, a royal beauty passionately interested in herself. Bay's romance with Charlotte is budding nicely, despite her family's objections: but then he is appointed the hunting pilot of Empress Elisabeth, and unwisely starts an affair with her. Will Charlotte forgive him? Will they get together again? Do we want them to?

It says a lot about Daisy Goodwin's talents as a yarn-spinner that I kept turning the pages while not being particularly fond of either the sneering Charlotte or Bay. With time, as her love deepens, I did begin to feel for Charlotte, but Bay remains a bone-headed fellow with his obsession with horses, hunting and races. You feel that no woman, empress or not, can really compete with his filly. He shows a polite interest in photography for Charlotte's sake, but knows little about it, and she for her part never hunts as her mother was killed in a hunting accident. Even if Bay supposedly isn't after Charlotte's money - the book's title is partly ironic - you wonder if they make such a good couple as all that. As for Empress Elisabeth, nicknamed Sisi, she is vain, attention-seeking and hard to like.

In Georgette Heyer's whodunnit Envious Casca (great title - shame it sort of gives away the plot twist), one character gets on all the other characters' nerves by relating anecdotes from a book on the Empress Elisabeth of Austria. I didn't really understand that storyline - say what you like about Sisi, she's good copy. There are worse topics of conversation than her life. Having said that, the Empress seems to have been the kind of woman who invariably brings out the cat in me. I'm not sure why. She might have been a bit of a moaner, but she had things to moan about: the Austrian court was strict, her mother-in-law Archduchess Sophie was formidable, and the poor girl was only fifteen when she married Emperor Franz Josef, who was smitten with her but also a bit of a dry stick. Nevertheless, my pity keeps itself well within bounds. I have some trouble believing that she'd actually take a lover, because I've somehow come by the opinion that a woman can sometimes be a tiresome, neurotic narcissist (like the Empress), and sometimes a wanton slut, but she is rarely both. I may be completely wrong, though, and my failure to see women of the self-regarding Sisi type as sensual beings may be part and parcel of my general cattiness.

Perhaps it's the "golden cage" aspect of Empress Elisabeth's complaints that makes me unsympathetic. We all have cages to contend with in our lives of one sort or another, and they're rarely golden. Being an Empress is a job like any other, containing elements that are not enjoyable - but I bet there are worse ones. As Elisabeth's sister, the deposed Queen of Naples, says in The Fortune Hunter: "There are worse things in life, Sisi, than being stared at."   

onsdag 15 oktober 2014

Downton worries

The fifth series of Downton Abbey has now had its Swedish premiere (last Saturday). While I'm of course buoyed up no end - this is one of the year's highlights for me - I'm not quite as euphoric as after the first episode of series four last year. I'm nervous about series five. Something tells me it will be a nerve-racking affair. Be careful what you wish for, if what you wish for is a worthwhile storyline for your favourite Downton character, because that usually also means trauma.

Sometimes I wonder if life would be easier if I wasn't a villain-lover, and instead fancied heroes like most people. But when it comes to Downton, such a course wouldn't make me safe from anxious moments either. Matthew died. Mr Bates is suspected of murder again, and may actually have done it this time (though I still don't think he did). Branson has taken up with a bolshie school teacher who gets up people's noses - honestly, where's his judgment gone since Sybil died? Let's face it: until the last episode has peacefully concluded, we will have reason enough to worry about most of the characters' chances of a happy ending.

So I might as well worry about Thomas. The reviews I've read of episode one tend to find that the Lady Anstruther plot-line - where Jimmy gets entangled with his old employer who, contrary to my predictions, was all too ready to forgive him for having quitted his post with her - was one of the best things about the episode. I agree, it was juicy, but I'm concerned about the consequences. Will Jimmy really leave now? Is his fragile friendship with Thomas at an end, just as they had reached mutual first-name status? How will this affect Thomas's mood and, importantly, will it make him more inclined to commit the ghastly mistake of squealing on Bates (when he finds out about his suspicious trip to London and the rest, which is surely only a matter of time)? Quite apart from not really wanting Bates to swing - though, innocent or guilty, the silly man brought it on himself - I can foresee the dire effect squealing would have on Thomas. All sympathy with him would be at an end from the other Downton characters; from Downton viewers inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt until now; in fact, from everyone except myself. Oh, to be back in the times of the series three finale, when supporting Thomas was considered fine and dandy for a while.

Oh well, enough manservant-bellyaching. Luckily, there are some points about Downton - however outlandish one's sympathies - about which most viewers can agree. One of these is that poor Lady Edith is being given far too grisly a time. By now, if comments on the series are anything to go by, Fellowes - who seems to prefer icy Lady Mary to her sister - is in something of a minority. He has admitted in interviews to "punishing" Edith for her passiveness, but she isn't really passive. For someone supposedly more conventionally minded than her sisters, she has time and again dared to leave her comfort zone. She learned to drive during wartime, then figured out how she could be most helpful in the Downton convalescent home. She decided to write articles for magazines. She stuck to the man she loved, although he was married (to a madwoman, allegedly), and had an all-too-brief affair with him. She had his baby, and arranged for it to be brought up close to her in defiance of her aunt's advice. How much more actively taking charge of her life will she have to do before Fellowes takes pity on her? Let's hope, when the happy endings are handed out at Downton's conclusion (the end of series six, maybe?), that hers is an especially blissful one.