Frankly this feels to me like reading a book on Victorian gambling parlors and getting the explanation that "Sebastian, Lord St. Vincent did XYZ [insert quote from Devil in Winter]." He's a fictional character! O'Brien was probably basing that section on Nelson in the first place! (2/2)
Update: I'm now giving this book side-eye; the author has given up emphasizing that fictional characters are fictional and instead is writing "Jack Aubrey enjoyed XYZ. [insert quote from Aubrey/O'Brien] Admiral Nelson also enjoyed XYZ. [insert quote from Nelson]" (1/2)
It just tells me these novelists are good at constructing plausible narratives. Which they are! And which many historical romance novelists are too! But that doesn't mean they're historically accurate - just engaging writers. (6/6)
I know next to nothing about the Thing my book is discussing, but telling me that two authors writing a century later decided their fictional characters would find it annoying doesn't tell me that people at the time thought that too. (5/6)
... which is in part that authors like Georgette Heyer, who wrote fiction which obviously reflected not only their historical research but their own prejudices and viewpoints as well as the cultural context in which they were writing, have been taken as gospel truth. (4/6)
... from Forester and O'Brien, i.e. fictional quotes about fictional captains and how they fictionally found the Thing annoying. It jumped out at me because I've been reading a lot of older historical romance lately which always brings up the perennial Historical Accuracy discourse... (3/6)
... from C.S. Forester and Patrick O'Brien, both of whom are fiction writers known for their research into the Navy and naval tactics of the era. And that's fine, but the author just commented about how captains of the era found a Thing annoying and then supported that statement with quotes... (2/6)
In my perennial efforts to slim down my bookshelves I'm reading a very dense work of nonfiction which I purchased without fully realizing it almost entirely focuses on the Hornblower-era Navy. And as befits a book about what I just called "the Hornblower-era Navy," the author quotes heavily... (1/6)
Screengrab of Kobo's "swoonworthy deals on romance books...tales of true love" featuring a biography of Henry VIII
do you ever feel that Kobo's algorithm is just a massive exercise in taking the mickey
The only thing it feels worthwhile for me to say right now is pay attention to whether your feelings & the information you’re absorbing are paralyzing you or prompting you to meaningful action, whatever that is. Paralysis helps no one but the enemy.
And in Burchell's most famous series, the Warrender series, opera conductor Sir Oscar Warrender and his singer wife Anthea (protagonists of the first book) over the course of appearances in 13 books never have or mention children. Their happy ending is stardom.
"One Man's Heart" stars two gold-diggers who meet when the heroine is trying to burgle her blackmailer (but breaks into the hero's apartment instead). They're both engaged to other (rich) people for most of the book.
"Call and I'll Come" actually isn't very good but two major secondary characters are a married man and his lover of several decades, who can't marry because his wife won't divorce him; they and their relationship are presented sympathetically.
I find Burchell especially interesting because her better books really step outside what I would vaguely think of as the norms for category romance of the mid-twentieth century.
In case you can't tell I read a LOT of categories and will probably go into a state of formal mourning when I can no longer see a single mass-market paperback on the shelves.
Cover of Seducing His Secret Wife by Robin Covington. A Native American woman in a purple minidress with long dark hair stands in the arms of an Asian man in a dark-blue business suit. There is a night city-scape in the background; they are standing in front of a red couch of some sort, and there are two champagne classes on a table beside them.
And to return to contemporaries, Harlequin's now-defunct Desire line was publishing some absolute bangers, Seducing His Secret Wife has all the soapy drama and passionate romance you could want in a nice short page count (as did its prequel).
Cover of Signet Regency Romance The Duke's Wager by Edith Layton. A red-haired white woman in a green dress is seated in the foreground; she has a white shawl around her shoulders and is holding a card of some sort. A dark-haired white man in beige-colored breeches, a brown coat, and a white waistcoat leans over her shoulder, while in the background a blond white man in black coat, white waistcoat, and buff-colored breaches stands with arms folded.
Historical categories could really pack a punch when they wanted to - The Duke's Wager by Edith Layton features two absolutely horrible noblemen in pursuit of a defenseless merchant's niece and it's only through some major character growth (and obvs the Power Of Love) that the hero is worthy.
Harlequin Romance cover of Loyal in All by Mary Burchell. The top of the cover is solid purple and beneath that a nurse in a white cap and uniform (a white woman with reddish-brown hair and very red lipstick) stands in the arms of a doctor (a white man with dark hair wearing a tie and dress shirt underneath his doctor coat). Both are looking at something beyond the viewer and seem apprehensive.
Categories could also provide enlightenment about the world outside their readers' daily lives, as this one by Mills & Boon stalwart Mary Burchell; published in 1957, it's set during the Hungarian Revolution of 1956 and Burchell had clearly done her research.
Cover of Love Is A Distant Shore by Claire Harrison. White cover, circular inset picture, in which a blonde white man in a white t-shirt has his arm around the shoulder of a dark-haired white woman. In the background is a sunset seascape(?) and in the foreground is the woman swimming in open water.
I tend to think of vintage categories as being overwrought and full of drama, but sometimes they're short perfect contemporary romances, as this one, a low-key book about a long-distance swimmer trying to break records and the reporter who's profiling her.
Cover of Harlequin Presents edition of Illusion by Charlotte Lamb. White book cover with a circular inset portrait, in which a dark-haired white man in a tuxedo leans over a blonde white woman in a white fur coat (plot-relevant!) In the foreground is a landscape image of Venice and in the background is a nighttime image of probably-also-Venice-but-I'm-not-sure.
Charlotte Lamb at her best was writing bite-sized psychological dramas with lots of yelling and exotic locales. The hero is completely toxic and the heroine's kind of into it, I absolutely believe these two will make it work.
I literally gasped. That is appalling.
Didn't he also transfer her to a different division so that he didn't have to see her every day, because he had caught feelings? It was just gross boss behavior all the way down.
Caveat (cat-eat?): Felix's romantic expertise consists of three seasons of watching Hallmark holiday movies. What conclusions he has drawn from them, I could not say, but he's very definite about rearranging some of these post-its.
I now find myself saying things like, "Felix, they CAN'T reconcile until AFTER his nephew has been banished to Russia" and "I appreciate that you feel this is too much of a slow burn, but also you are a cat and as such your experience is irrelevant here."
I have put the outline of Unfinished Romance #73 on post-it notes and then arranged it on the dining room table as a way of attempting to force my brain to fix the plot holes.
Alas, the cat finds the maze of colored post-its intriguing and would like to help. With both paws if necessary.
enemies to lovers trope been going strong for centuries
PUPPY.
I have tried curling exactly once in my life (spoiler: I'm never gonna make the Olympics) but I am absolutely obsessed with this scandal.
Unsurprised but appalled.
