Showing posts with label Shelley DeWees. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Shelley DeWees. Show all posts

Darcy and Fitzwilliam by Karen Wasylowski: A Review

Book review from the desk of Shelley DeWees… Darcy and Fitzwilliam: A Tale of a Gentleman and an Officer by Karen V. Wasylowski

Imagine, if you dare…

A soldier stands in the background, far away from the shaded beauty of the stairs directly below you. You can barely see the red-backed, leather-booted militia man but you can tell he walks with purpose, conviction. He’s looking to the right as if he’s about to turn into the lane and boldly move off into the next phase of life with his head held high, confident in his poise and precise in his footfalls. The beautiful spring day is made better by the vision of sun dappled ferns and leaves scattered haphazardly on the stones, billowing around as if they’ve just been disturbed by something….a man….a cloaked man, running after the soldier with a clear demeanor of distress. He runs as if he’s got something to say, something important.

Mysterious. Intriguing, you might say. Gracing the cover of Darcy and Fitzwilliam, Karen Wasylowski’s debut novel, the scene seems to speak, “Yes. Open me. Read me. It will prove interesting.” My senses were tingling, but guardedly. It was going to be a compelling tale of male bonding and growth, perhaps interspersed with a few allegories of debauchery and decadence. Was I about to stumble into a literary man cave? A wordy representation of a place where no female ought to poke her nose? Though the contemptible word “bromance” was used in the author’s own description of her work, her “baby” as she called it, I was moved to give the whole liking it thing a real shot, a good ‘ol college try. With such a lovely cover, it had to be better than a bromance, right? Would a sneaky look into a man cave be that bad?

Well, no. This story is amazing. It’s not just a glimpse into the idle lives of the extremely rich and entitled, and certainly not a flippant narrative of a life unbridled by the constraints of the middle class. It’s not just drinking and billiards, gambling and shooting, and it’s certainly not what I thought it would be (the man cave analogy is officially rebuked). This is a visceral tale that positively drips with social commentary, tackling problems that few Austenesque writers would attempt to undertake.

Ms. Wasylowski weaves a brilliant account of two separate lives, those of a married, measured, quiet man whose strength is in the details, and another loud, energetic, sometimes irksome chronic bachelor who uses his charisma to get what he needs out of life. I’m sure you know which is which, but I bet you’ll be surprised at just how engaging these two characters are. The book itself is divided into two volumes, the first of which deals with Mr. Darcy and his new bride. They’re happy but not irritatingly so (how refreshing), and in fact they engage in a knock-down-drag-out brawl within the first seven chapters! Elizabeth and Darcy slowly figure out their new life together, discovering flaws, faults, one giant secret, and stirring up all kinds of interesting social issues in the meantime. Sexual disparities show up, and Elizabeth marvels at her ignorance and jealously while Darcy is forced to deal with the formidable Lady Catherine DeBourgh (who, in this representation, is a feisty and delicious character). Later on in volume two, the life of Fitzwilliam “Richard” Darcy is explored more thoroughly, and the reader watches helplessly as his greed and foolishness finally catch up with him. What is he to do? Searching for answers at the bottom of a hip flask hasn’t been working out. He’s looking to find someone to spend his life with, but is forced to sift through piles of societal restrictions once he’s found her. England’s position on women, marriage, homosexuality, alcohol, even America’s treachery come into the picture, not tiptoeing over but literally smashing his dreams. What’s a guy to do?

There is little else anyone can say to you, clever reader, except this: Read this book. A cutesy romance of love and lace it is not. Darcy and Fitzwilliam is a gripping interpretation of life in Regency England, bravely attempting to bring issues of tension to the table. Domestic violence, alcoholism, harsh words, sex, royalism, and loathsome small-mindedness abound, and all through the vision of Jane Austen’s characters.

It’s intoxicating. It’s absorbing. It’s excellent.

Gentle readers, This is Shelley DeWees's fifth book review for me and the second for Jane Austen Today. (She has also reviewed for my other blog, Jane Austen's World.) Shelley also oversees her own blog, The Uprising, which features vegan recipes. Yum. She lives in the northern U.S. I shiver just thinking about the cold.- Vic

Review: The Bedside, Bathtub & Armchair Companion to Jane Austen, by Carol Adams, Douglas Buchanan, and Kelly Gesch

“No one who had ever seen Catherine Morland in her infancy would have supposed her born to be an heroine.” -Northanger Abbey
No one who had ever seen a vegan feminist, a composer, and a graduate student would have supposed them to write a book about Jane Austen. However, in a bold move as unassuming as Catherine Morland, these three have strayed from their usual career paths and done exactly what we thought they’d never do: written a clever and engaging partner book for Jane Austen lovers everywhere.

Touting itself as a something-for-everyone work, The Bedside, Bathtub & Armchair Companion to Jane Austen weaves non-spoiler plot summaries of each of the novels with interesting tidbits of information: interviews with Jane scholars and artists, framework for the “ideal Jane Austen tour”, a description of fashionable Regency Era dress, and answers the age-old question we all must ask of Mr. Bingley, “What the heck is ‘white soup’?” There is a Jane Aptitude test (challenging even for the most dedicated addict), analyses of film adaptations and gift ideas for your best Janeite friends, an original song entitled “On Reading Jane Austen” and a delightful section about why young women look upon walking so favorably. Witty comments abound, and the reader finds themselves engrossed almost immediately in this amusing little adventure!

Among the most interesting aspects of the 218-page paperback is the summary of Northanger Abbey and the breakdown of Gothic clichés so readily parodied within. Catherine Morland’s mind runs away from her upon arriving at the abbey—looking around every corner for danger, assuming the worst about the mysterious General Tilney, and expressing dissent at the furniture being “in all the profusion and elegance of modern taste.” Upon investigating a strange Japanese cabinet during a predictable “dark and stormy night,” Catherine finds—horror of horrors!—a laundry list! A stack of bills for services rendered! SAY IT AIN’T SO! The Companion seems to chuckle along with the reader during these positively ridiculous happenings, describing Northanger Abbey as “the education of a naïve reader—both the reader in the book, Catherine Morland, and the reader holding the book, you.” (What? Did you expect something else in that cabinet? Me too.)

The Companion does what it claims, which is, in basic terms, to awaken interest in Jane Austen. I found my imagination buzzing with possibilities about the characteristics of Jane’s life during my short visit to The Companion, my mental imagery growing more intricate with every passing article about carriages, dresses, and ruminations about dinners that require a change of clothes. However, I was keenly aware that my imaginings were most-assuredly inaccurate, a usual side effect of a “brain candy” book. Those who value a scholarly approach to Jane Austen may find the work to be a bit trite, overly concerned with contemporary details that mattered little in Jane’s world. A reader who expects a significant contribution to Austen research will be disappointed, and may trip over some less-than-perfect areas of writing and a sloppy table of contents, penned by seemingly unqualified authors. But for those who wish to simply lean back and enjoy need look no further—The Bedside, Bathtub & Armchair Companion to Jane Austen is victorious, inciting more curiosity and unapologetic musings than many Austen addicts have felt in a long while.

Gentle readers, please welcome reviewer Shelley De Wees, who will be contributing her book reviews to Jane Austen Today and Jane Austen's World in the future. Check out her website, The Uprising, at this link.