Ranking Georgette Heyer’s Period Pieces: The Introduction

First of all, I don’t care a groat for the idiots claiming that because they can’t track down the sources she was using, she was some kind of liar or fabulist. Her biographers state that she relied heavily on memoirs and collected letters which she found in private libraries that could well have been dispersed to the four winds in the fifty to eighty years since Heyer did her homework. Her research files seem to have been destroyed or dispersed after her own death and the suicide of her husband, which doesn’t help matters either. Both the biographers and the detractors seem to be ignorant of the actual fiction writers of the period, beyond Jane Austen. Heyer, on the other hand, shows signs of knowing them well. Lona Manning’s extensive reading in the period has brought to light a couple of writers whose tropes might have influenced Heyer, and at least a couple more who were not much as story-tellers but offered a wealth of detail about the culture of their time.  

It is however reasonable to say that Heyer, like her successors, filtered what she learned about the Georgian and Regency eras through her own culture and beliefs. In that sense, she is about as much of a fabulist as her modern detractors are, because (at least in her more escapist books) she is not much interested in history as history, only as a platform for what interests her, which is also how her detractors approach the period. Her comedic banter uses Regency cant mixed with a style and cadence similar to the more flippant moments of Dorothy Sayers and Margery Allingham, and whether you like the style of characterization used by those two mystery authors is probably a better indicator of whether you will like Heyer than whether you like, say, Julia Quinn.

Over the next few posts, I will be ranking the Heyer Historicals as “low-rotation,” “medium-rotation,” and “high-rotation,” based on how often I get the urge to read them. If it’s not mentioned, either assume I haven’t read it at all (The Great Roxhythe, The Spanish BrideAn Infamous Army) or haven’t read it recently enough to have an opinion (her medieval novels, The Black MothThe Convenient Marriage, The Devil’s CubPowder and Patch). I had a publication list in front of me when I wrote these posts originally, so you may see a vague tendency towards chronological order of release for the individual entries, especially in the “low rotation” entries. Listing order within a post is otherwise random, and does not reflect anything about the relative merits of any given pair of novels mentioned in the same post.

State of the Author, 4Q2025

It’s been roughly three months since the last State of the Author, so here’s where I’m at:

Continue reading “State of the Author, 4Q2025”

Midjourney Monday: The Longbourn Ballroom

Longbourn’s ballroom was the site of most of the asteroid’s streaming videos, and Mrs. Bennet had insisted on giving it a more regular shape than most of Longbourne’s interior spaces. The space was an immense rectangle with gleaming white marble floors and columns that reflected the purple and gold lights. The far wall was decorated with a pattern of hexagonal screens set in gold frames, which continued across the ceiling. The main video feeds played out on the screens on the far wall, the more minor ones being relegated to a merely decorative role on the ceiling.

The Golden Age of Adaptations

(Note: This is adapted from a comment I made elsewhere.)

A good adaptation from book to movie or tv, honors what is worthwhile about the source material, and changes the things that need to be changed for coherence in the new medium or for the audience’s comprehension. It follows therefore that you can’t make a good adaptation of a work that you believe has no merit. For instance, I would be the wrong person to adapt Frankenstein by Mary Shelley,

Continue reading “The Golden Age of Adaptations”

Andrew Davies Strikes Back (Maybe)

I wrote 3500 words on Hunter Healer King 3 last week along with 500 words on the space regency. Yesterday and today I wrote the opening chapter (~2500 words) of a mystery that’s been in the planning stages for several years. Where was I going to find the mental energy to do a bit of Austen blogging for Wednesday? And there goes Andrew Davies shooting his mouth off in the presence of people with microphones, aaaaand we’re off to the races.

Continue reading “Andrew Davies Strikes Back (Maybe)”

First Images From S&S 2026

(Regarding the Austenian series of posts, it’s going to take some time for me to get the Elliots, Musgroves and Hayters straight in my head and write them up. In the meantime, here’s a followup on the latest Sense and Sensibility adaptation).

These are about a week old or a little more, and I was hoping to find some source other than a reddit thread, but I didn’t, so here we are. I’d been a little anxious about costume designer Grace Snell, who didn’t seem to have much in the way of period work, but I like the clothes so far, which look solidly Regency (don’t ask me to match them to a particular year) and have some cool details in terms of embroidery and lace. Wealthy Mrs. Jennings (Fiona Shaw) wears flamboyant green and gold. Elinor (Daisy Edgar-Jones) and Marianne (Esme Creed-Miles) wear shades of gray/black and purple/lavender, with Elinor being the more somberly dressed of the two. I’ve seen conflicting claims about whether these were in fact “half-mourning” colors as far back as the Regency, or whether they were more of a Victorian thing, but it’s a useful visual shorthand for “our dad has been dead between six and nine months,” and it looks good on them.

A couple pictures include Ceara Coveney (Elayne in Wheel of Time, one of the brighter points of Season Two and Three), wearing a very pretty light gray outfit. Possibly our Lucy Steele? One shot has a very tall, well-dressed man in the background with a slight receding chin. He might or might not be Herbert Nordrum as Colonel Brandon. If so, cause for rejoicing, dude does have enough neck for Regency collars! The group shot of Mrs. Jennings with the Dashwood sisters also has a couple of men in the background, although it’s not really clear who they are.

All in all, good job so far. My main beef with what I’ve seen of the Netflix Pride and Prejudice costumes is that they don’t really feel like a unified aesthetic, just “here’s a bunch of clothes from about the right period, with some effort to distinguish between characters who care about their looks and those who don’t. Hope you like them!” These S&S clothes do feel like there’s more of a coherent idea behind them, if that makes sense. Unlike the P&P first look, these seem to be informal behind-the-scenes shots that aren’t meant to give a sense of the production’s cinematography. As a result, I don’t know if the final film will be as gray-toned as these images suggest. On the one hand, S&S lends itself more to that kind of somberness than P&P. On the other hand, the last BBC S&S, which is admittedly 17 or 18 years old at this point, did something similar. We shall see.

Austenian: Harriet Smith and the Case of the Missing Parents

Let’s get the book’s official statement on the subject out of the way first. Late in the novel, Harriet’s father is stated to be a tradesman, marital status unknown, who is “rich enough to afford her the comfortable maintenance which had ever been hers, and decent enough to have always wished for concealment.” Her father approves of the match with Robert Martin, and there’s a suggestion he possibly settles money on Harriet on her marriage. Nothing is said of the mother. I personally do not think Harriet is related to anyone we meet in the book. No named character in the book is high enough in status to weather the scandal of being known to have fathered or given birth to an illegitimate child. This doesn’t mean that they wouldn’t have done it, just that they wouldn’t have kept the child, and the accompanying risk of gossip and scandal, in the neighborhood of Highbury. However, the alternative theories are potentially of interest to people writing Jane Austen spinoffs, so let’s go over them. You’ll notice I don’t really address the question of whether particular character seem moral/immoral enough for certain behaviors; a lifetime of reading murder mysteries makes me unwilling to go that route in discussing what fictional people are capable of.

Continue reading “Austenian: Harriet Smith and the Case of the Missing Parents”

Austenian: The Parents of Emma Woodhouse, and Their Friends, The Knightleys

A quick Gutenberg skim on my part showed no days-of-week directly linked to days-of-month in the text, such as seen in P&P or Mansfield. Jo Modert, whose work I do not have direct access to, says that the main events of Emma seem to be mapped to an almanac for 1814-1815. Ellen Moody, after citing Modert, maps the novel instead to 1813-1814, for reasons that are not obvious to me. The only cultural reference known to point to anything earlier is Miss Bates getting confused about whether Ireland counts as a separate kingdom or not. Miss Bates is both ditzy and insular, so her continuing to get confused on this point long after it was a topical issue is plausible. Thus, this cultural reference doesn’t really wed Emma to a particular timeframe the way the soldiers billeted upon Meryton does with P&P. For once, I’m accepting Moody’s calendar without modifications. Mostly because I really don’t care that much about this novel, which weds considerable brilliance of technique, mood and psychology to two fairly unpleasant heroines, manipulative Emma Woodhouse and self-martyring Jane Fairfax. The only female characters in this one that I am at all fond of are Miss Bates and Harriet Smith.

Continue reading “Austenian: The Parents of Emma Woodhouse, and Their Friends, The Knightleys”

Austenian: The Parents of Mansfield Park, Part 2

As previously indicated, I am interpreting the main body of Mansfield Park’s plot as happening in 1796-1797. However, the age indicators for most of the characters in this essay are very vague. Tom Bertram is apparently 25 during the main body of the plot, and I have randomly assumed that Henry Crawford is around that age, and that his sister Mary Crawford and their acquaintance John Yates are rather younger. 

Continue reading “Austenian: The Parents of Mansfield Park, Part 2”