Showing posts with label the magicians and mrs quent. Show all posts
Showing posts with label the magicians and mrs quent. Show all posts

Sunday, July 19, 2009

The Magicians and Mrs. Quent (massive spoilers)

Galen Beckett's The Magicians and Mrs. Quent, while a creditable attempt at transplanting the Regency, has failed to capture the style of the period. His dialogue, attempting to echo Austen, sounds merely like a barely tolerable imitation. Had I been his editor, I would have assigned him some reading and revision: more Austen, Georgette Heyer, perhaps Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell, and then go through the entire book and see how it sounds to you, Mr. Beckett. 

As the book progresses, and the characters spend less time in the high society that Beckett had trouble portraying, the style becomes a bit less irritating. After awhile I started paying more attention to characters and their lines than the style, which is more fun. It began with thinking that Mrs. Lockwell sounded exactly like Mrs. Bennet, if slightly less obnoxious--Mr. Lockwell did love her, and still does, even through the madness. Then Mr. Wyble, the cousin, appeared, and the resemblance to Mr. Collins is impossible to miss. There was a moment when I was afraid Mr. Rafferdy was going to pull a Darcy, but he laughed instead and the moment passed. Indeed, he was all condescension--not. He's really nice. It took much longer for me to identify Charles Bingley and Lady Catherine, and I've only just realized who Georgiana is, and several characters never appear. I am glad to say that none of Ivy's sisters ever made the acquaintance of Wickham: he was solely Charles Bingley's problem. Well, and Ivy's for a little while, but at the end of their acquaintance his discomfiture was not difficult to accomplish.

Mind you, Part One, Invarel, has more characters in common than plot. While Ivy does have a convalescent stay in Lady Marsdel's house, rather more agreeable than a prolonged stay at Rosings would have been (I think Galen is a Lady Catherine sympathizer, or at least doesn't hate her--I was going to check the DWG, but I haven't gotten to the fanfic yet, only Novel Idea), Charles Bingley is pulled into bad company as he tries to support his sister (and is probably gay), and Rafferdy, on the verge of rushing out to propose to Ivy, listens to his father for once and decides to shoulder his inevitable responsibilities. Part One ends with the introduction, through a letter, of Mr. Quent, whose appearance I'd been awaiting as soon as I realized that the Mrs. Quent of the title was nowhere in sight. Important character, not been introduced yet, Ivy must marry someone named Quent. Q.E.D. Anyway, he needs a governess, he wants Ivy, their mother just died and is therefore in no position to argue, and they need the money.

Part Two, Heathcrest, made me think immediately of Jane Eyre. Well, she's going off to be a governess in a dark and scary house somewhere in the country, right? Although her poor sisters are stuck in what is now Mr. Wyble's house, since it was entailed to him. He moved right in, too, the creep. And had their father committed, although that took awhile. Anyway, Part Two is written in first person perspective, as is Jane Eyre; here, however, Ivy is writing not to a hypothetical reader, but to her father, although he will not be able to read them. I'm going off on a tangent. It does have a lot in common with Charlotte Bronte's work, anyway, although I have to say the children are rather better-developed characters than the child Miss Eyre tutored. Mr. Quent's appearances are few and, for Ivy, awkward; he doesn't spend much time at home, except when things are going wrong. This they proceed to do, and Ivy begins worrying the mystery of the Wyrdwood, seemingly connected to Mr. Quent's deceased young wife. She ends by discovering a number of disturbing things, most of them uncomfortably close to herself, and also gains a very nice husband. While not quite the obvious choice, one is certain he will make her happy. Except that he's a witch hunter. And she's a witch. And he was aware of it long before she was......

Part Three, Durrow Street, is pretty much cleaning up most of the messes discovered in Invarel and Heathcrest. Not all of them, mind you; it's very clear that this is not a standalone book. Mr. Lockwell is still insane; the rebellion is still fomenting; Eldyn--Charles Bingley--.....is actually pretty well set, but I think he still has adventures to come; we still have no idea who Ivy's real father is, although whether this will become an issue is questionable; and Rafferdy has yet to be married off to some nice debutante. I should add that if, in the third or fourth book, Mr. Quent is killed off and Ivy marries Rafferdy, I will be very upset. Possibly to the extent of discovering exactly where in Colorado Mr. Beckett resides.

I think, of all the more minor characters, Mr. Bennick is my favorite. I'm not sure why; perhaps because, when I first encountered him, it was not someone from Pride and Prejudice that I thought of, nor yet from Jane Eyre. Mr. Bennick reminded me of Aragorn. It is, perhaps, an unjust comparison, for Mr. Bennick was, at the time of his last appearance, a traitor; yet, for all the evidence against him, I think more of their shared habit of speaking out of dark corners. I may be wrong in thinking that by the end he may be an ally. I may be wrong in comparing him to Professor Snape, who seems, from what I've heard, to come out on the good side on a regular basis. I don't know. But I like him. He's a cool character.

Pit bull

Made it to church on time, but with the sort of sleep-deprived hangover that makes me lightheaded while standing and makes my blood run oddly when I sit down again. Philip was horribly helpful in keeping me awake during the sermon, which was, I think, on the gift of salvation unassisted by the recipient. I didn't have a bulletin, which made things even worse.

We didn't stay very long after the sermon, but long enough to see some people. George, a man with very black hair and a somewhat craggy face, was behind us with his wife, whose name I didn't catch. I asked Philip, and he said Mrs. Kleinbeart. So helpful. Well, at least it gives me something to call her. And while he was talking to a computers colleague, Brad (closer middle-aged, for once), I dodged over to ask Mr. Marble when Mrs. Marble is coming home. He says she and Ian (language major, I think in the Air Force now but that could be a different son) are coming back on the nineteenth, but Abby, one of the girls, is coming on the fourteenth. Unfortunately I think this is all August, i.e., after I'm gone. Sigh. Oh, and one of the ladies was celebrating her ninetieth birthday. I have yet to learn their names (hear, yes--learn, no) but I really like 'em both. The old gentleman is on oxygen, and they're both shorter than me, but I talk to him a lot, and they're both really nice. He told me his ninetieth is next year, and I asked how much of that time they'd been together. They had their sixtieth anniversary in March. Wow. That could explain why they look so.....together, I think I mean. You see one, and think of the other automatically, because the two are a unit.

A.M. Fowler was here when we got home, but she didn't stay long after. Started The Magicians and Mrs. Quent, which has a major Regency vibe and which I picked off the new-novels shelf at the library. I think Mom might like it. Pride and Prejudice meets Jane Eyre meets Lord of the Rings, or perhaps a Patricia C. Wrede Regency. I'm not at all sure how much of his plot this guy had planned in advance, though.

Quiet afternoon. Read some, napped some.

After dinner Lark finally got her walk, poor thing. It wasn't as cool out as I expected, considering it had been raining when we got home from church, but it wasn't too hot. We nearly ran into the man with the pit bull from awhile back, but I talked Lark out of running ahead and I'm not sure either of them saw us. Otherwise it was pretty uneventful. There was a nice cool breeze as soon as we got out of the park, though. ¬.¬' 

Looks like Philip messed with the time controls again. I called him, but he was driving and didn't pick up, and I haven't heard back from him. All I can say is I'd better not be locked out by eight-thirty on a regular basis.