Review: Mr. Darcy, Vampyre, by Amanda Grange

I swear, this is the last Jane Austen mash-up I'm going to read.

I also swear that I will not break out into Dear Jane letters, as Elizabeth is inclined to do at critical junctures of the book. The Postal Service could not be terribly reliable in Europe in her day, but the letters provide an easy way for Elizabeth to share her deepest secrets with us, as well as with Jane, and so she keeps writing.

I found Mr. Darcy, Vampyre to be a breezier read than Pride and Prejudice and Zombies. It's not written to be funny, although it is occasionally ridiculous; it seems a more serious attempt to extend the romance of Elizabeth Bennett and her beloved Mr Darcy. From the glorious morning of their wedding day to the novel's final sunrise, they stay true to the world Austen created.

The story begins on the morning of Elizabeth and Darcy's wedding. They are having a double ceremony, sharing the happy occasion with Jane and her Mr. Bingley. But the trouble starts almost immediately after the wedding breakfast -- Darcy has received some disturbing news along with their wedding congratulations, and he cancels their trip to the Lake District and he and Elizabeth head for Paris.

As they travel across the Continent, there is a whirlwind of parties and balls given in their honor, visits with Darcy's wide circle of friends and relatives, along with an undercurrent of menace. It is clear that things are not what they seem. Some of Darcy's relatives seem openly shocked to meet Elizabeth, and when Cousin Sophia lets slip - "This is the dress I wore to meet Marco Polo" - it's clear that someone has been keeping some secrets.

Of course, you and I know that Darcy is a vampire. Many of his friends and relatives are obviously vampires. Author Amanda Grange has tailored a vampire mythology (everything from their ability to go out in the sun to the way they age and die) to fit her story and purposes. In a puzzling turn, Darcy has not once visited Elizabeth's bedchamber. Weeks into their wedding tour, our bride is still a virgin. Obviously Darcy is restraining himself, but why? What fun are vampires that don't have sex?

I was disappointed that we didn't get to see more of the Darcy's vampire nature in action. There are a few incidents, but until about three-quarters of the way through the book, you could make the case that he simply had cold feet and was keeping his distance from his bride. It is fun to read certain comments and reactions, knowing what we know, and watching Elizabeth try to sort out the mystery on her own, but I would have liked it better if she clued in a little earlier.

I read Mr. Darcy, Vampyre on the flight from Cleveland to Minneapolis. It was a quick, fun read -- it kept the feeling of other Austen novels, with some downright silly situations. Devoted Austen fans don't seem to enjoy it as much, but I was amused by it. Heck, I finished it, which is more than I can say for Sense and Sensibility.

My copy of Mr. Darcy, Vampyre was provided free of charge for review. You can read more about the book at the novel's blog, and more about the author, Amanda Grange, at her website.

Review: The Private Papers of Eastern Jewel by Maureen Lindley

In The Private Papers of Eastern Jewel, Maureen Lindley looks at the life of a notorious Chinese princess from a forgiving angle. Eastern Jewel, also known as Yoshiko Kawashima, was considered quite scandalous in her day: a Chinese princess raised in Japan, a promiscuous young woman who wore men’s clothes, she drank and smoked opium, she spied for the Japanese and was eventually executed as a traitor. Lindley suspects that she was not inherently evil, but a product of her very peculiar upbringing and headstrong temperment. She paints a very compelling story.



She was born a Manchu princess, 14th daughter of Prince Su and a distant cousin of Emperor Pu Yi. When she was 8 years old, she was sent to live with her father’s “blood brother”, Kawashima Naniwa. She was told this was as punishment for her reckless and unladylike behavior, but it was pre-ordained — Kawashima had asked for Eastern Jewel to be sent to him two years before, because he found her to be a pretty child. So the seeds of her rebelliousness and disconnection were planted early.

Kawashima encouraged her rebelliousness, providing her with fencing lessons, allowing her to wear boys’ clothes and encouraging the deep divide between Yoshiko and the other women in the household. Her stepfather and step-grandfather played key roles in her sexual development; eventually, Kawashima — in addition to having regular sexual relations with his stepdaughter — began sending men to visit her. These were generally businessmen, military and government officials, and others that Kawashima wanted to impress or influence. Yoshiko believed he respected her modern ways, when in reality, he was using her as a royal whore.


Eventually, she was married off to a Mongolian prince, living in extremely primitive conditions. It had to be a horrible shock, going from the royal palace in Tokyo to a tent on a windswept plain, huddling with dogs for warmth. She immediately began to plot her escape and did not care who was hurt in the process. I can’t say that I blame her for that — I wouldn’t have wanted to live in those conditions, either.

Yoshiko eventually makes her way back to Japan, providing information to the Japanese government. She does her best to influence Emporer Pu Yi to favor the Japanese agenda. (She appears briefly in the movie, The Last Emperor.) She felt herself to be Japanese — not surprising, considering the way she had been treated by her Chinese family. In an era when women had few choices about their lives (or their deaths — Yoshinko’s mother, a concubine, committed ritual suicide after the death of her master), she had an opportunity to live outside of society’s norms and she took it. I have no doubt that vengeance and selfishness played their parts in her decisions, but her options were very limited.

Lindley’s narrative is full of lush detail. She provides a alternate view of a fairly reviled figure — rejected by her native and adoptive countries, Yoshiko was eventually betrayed to Chiang Kai-shek, imprisoned and executed as a traitor. I found the story quite believable, giving a strong foundation to the argument that Eastern Jewel was not an evil woman. She may have been shaped by outside forces, but she made her own decisions and had a hand in her own destiny.

My copy of The Private Papers of Eastern Jewel was provided by LibraryThing Early Reviewers; get your copy at Amazon.com.

Review: Scottsboro by Ellen Feldman

One of the problems with reading historical fiction is that you usually know how the story ends. You can write a book about the Titanic, but everyone knows that the boat sinks. The same is true, to some extent, about Scottsboro by Ellen Feldman: most people know at least a little about the Scottsboro Boys, nine young black men, falsely charged with raping two white women and sentenced to die in the electric chair. So, how does an author turn this into a fresh, interesting story?

Review: The Chess Machine by Robert Lohr

In the late 18th century, a fabulous new scientific oddity was the toast of Europe. The Turk, a chess-playing automaton built by Wolfgang von Kempelen, was defeating chess masters across Europe. It was a true marvel of the times -- a machine, built after the fashion of a Turkish ruler, that was capable of thought. Built for the amusement of Empress Maria Theresa of Hungary, it played chess, the game of kings, against rulers and commoners alike. In 1808, it played its most famous foe, Napoleon Bonaparte. The Turk was eventually retired, sold, and was destroyed in a fire at Peale's Chinese Museum in Philadelphia in 1854. But what was the secret behind this machine that dazzled royalty and astounded the court machinicians? Robert Lohr devises a tale for The Turk full of intrigue and heartbreak in his novel, The Chess Machine.

Obviously, The Turk was a fraud. When von Kempelen decided to build his marvel (after a promise to Empress Maria Theresa to astound her), he had to find a way to direct the actions of the automaton. In his 1789 book, Overview and illustration of Mr Kempelen's chess playing machine, Joseph Racknitz claims to have worked out the secrets, and there is plenty of material online to illustrate how a man could have stowed away in the Turk's machinery and operated the chess-player's arm.



But what sort of man would agree to part of such an elaborate farce? In Lohr's novel, that man is a desperate dwarf, Tibor Scardanelli, who is at first hired -- and later blackmailed -- by von Kempelen, to provide the chess-playing genius, the ghost in his machine.

It's a story full of court intrigue and human heartbreak. Tibor, the dwarf, was driven away from his family at just 14 years of age. He spends a number of years at a monastary, where he learns to play chess and exhibits a particular genius for it. After being made a scapegoat and driven away from the monastary, he makes a living as he can, often playing chess for small stakes in taverns and inns. As he is devising his machine, von Kempelen recalls seeing the dwarf play and seeks him out to offer him a very special commission.

Imperial courts are full of gossip and back-stabbing. Wolfgang von Kempelen's fame comes at the expense of the Court Mechanician, Friedrich Knaus. Knaus will do anything to expose the fraud, including sending a lovely young courtesean to seduce von Kempelen or his assistant by posing as a housemaid. When a noblewoman (formerly von Kempelen's mistress) dies under suspicious circumstances, many people whisper that it is The Turk who committed the crime.

Tibor, for all his faults, is at heart a very good man. He feels tremendous guilt for his past sins and for The Turk's involvement in the noblewoman's death. von Kempelen uses that guilt to blackmail and threaten Tibor, forcing him to spend most of his waking hours locked inside a small chamber inside the automaton. He is unable to leave von Kempelen's house, for fear that someone will see him and connect him to von Kempelen. His only friends are Jakob, von Kempelen's assistant, and Elise, the maid/courtesean. He is forced into a power play that cannot end happily for anyone involved.

Of course, there is no way to know if the first "brain" inside The Turk was a dwarf, but the story is compelling and full of wonderful historical detail. When I read historical fiction, I want to be swept up in the story and completely forget that I am actually getting a history lesson. This book succeeded admirably.

The Chess Machine by Robert Lohr is available now from Amazon.com.

Review: The Physick Book of Deliverance Dane by Katherine

The Physick Book of Deliverance Dane has plenty to recommend it: the Salem Witch Trials, crazy grad school mentors and a hot, agnostic steeplejack. Certainly sounds like a good start to a story, combining historical fiction, a bit of mystery and maybe something a little supernatural. It starts with a very interesting question about the Salem witch trials, one that is not normally addressed in the history books: What if some of these women really were witches? Katherine Howe might have an answer for that. Her ancestors include Elizabeth Howe, hanged as a witch in Salem in 1692 and Elizabeth Proctor, another accused witch, whose story is the basis of Arthur Miller’s play, The Crucible.

Connie Goodwin is a doctoral candidate at Harvard University, majoring in American History. She’s a serious young woman, as different from her flighty mother as she could possibly be. Her mother, Grace, makes her living cleansing auras and manipulating biologic energy fields. In the summer of 1991, when Connie should be focused on her dissertation, her mother asks her to spend some time at the old house once owned by her grandmother, Sophia. The house has fallen into disrepair and they will probably end up selling it to pay the back taxes, if Connie can get it cleaned up and ready for market. Reluctantly, Connie agrees.

The house has no electricity or telephone. The garden is a wilderness, dense with henbane, moonwort, monkshood — her dog even digs up a mandrake root. On a shelf of old books, Connie makes an odd discovery: a key, tucked away in an old Bible, hiding a tiny scrap of parchment with the name “Deliverance Dane” written on it in an old fashioned script. This name will spark Connie’s curiosity and her passion for history and research will take her on a tour of libraries, churches and auction houses, until she discovers the truth about Deliverance Dane and her “physick book.”

The story blends Connie’s modern-day search with flashbacks that tell the story of Deliverance, her daughter, Mercy, and her granddaughter, Prudence — women with strong ties to Salem, Massachusetts. She gets caught up in a question, asked by one of her professors during the oral examination for her doctorate: what if the women of Salem really were witches? We sometimes forget that while we consider the idea of witches (as they were described by the accusers) as pretty silly, in 1692 it all seemed very real. The townspeople believed that witches were living among them and that belief spurred them to tragic action. But what if it wasn’t simply hysteria and ignorance? What if at least some of the accused witches really did have power? Perhaps not Satanic power, but a command of herbal medicine and the will to heal? It’s a slightly different angle on the story, and it made for interesting reading.

The story sweeps you up in its mystery and moves along swiftly. The supernatural bits were really less interesting to me than the history and the research, but it was a very pleasant read all the way through. I also found the story of the author engaging: Katherine Howe originally proposed the idea for the book for National Novel Writer’s Month. While she doesn’t say whether she finished it for NaNoWriMo, its beginning and her heritage make the story special. It reminds me of The Heretic’s Daughter, which I reviewed last year. Kathleen Kent, the author, is a direct descendant of Martha Carrier, another infamous name from the Salem witch trials. It’s a nice touch of authenticity for both books.

I’m afraid that the supernatural bits will ruin the story for some, those who like their historical fiction very serious, but I enjoyed the book in spite of them. A few spells and incantations never hurt anyone… did they? My copy was an Advance Reading Copy; the hardcover release is scheduled for June but you can pre-order your copy at Amazon.com.

This review also appeared in my column at When Falls the Coliseum. You can check in there every Tuesday for a new "Lisa Reads" review.

Review: The Spanish Bow by Andromeda Romano-Lax

The Spanish Bow is an amazing look at a tumultuous period in Spanish history. Feliu Delargo is a young man who always seems to profit from his tragedies. His father's death brings him his first real treasure: a cello bow. Because of a hip injury during his birth, he cannot play his violin standing up, so he plays it sitting down, like a cello. His mother's personal tragedy helps him escape to Barcelona. His naivete and his love of music shine through every phase of his life. We really get a look at Spain and music through the eyes of a growing young man - his outlook changes and matures and he discusses his mistakes and changes of vision.

As a young man, Feliu meets Al-Cerraz - a man who will become a pivotal character in his life and his music career. His introductions and influence, as well as his friendship, help to chart the course of Feliu's life. Although their approaches to music and love and politics are very different, they remain close for many years. Their reunion late in life brings them into the company of Aviva, a violinist with secrets of her own and a woman who will bring them closer as well as drive them apart. The story takes us from Catalan to Madrid to Barcelona and all over Europe, eventually to America and back to Europe. It tells the story of the Republican Revolution, life under Franco, Hitler and all the political shifts and changes that came with them. Feliu was witness to a remarkable period in the history of his country - it changes him in a profound way and we clearly see those changes.

As a young music student, Feliu is sent to study with the court composer at the royal palace in Madrid. I especially enjoyed the descriptions of Feliu's life at court. His friendship with Queen Ena, the details of life in the palace and all its intrigues, was really interesting to me.

Romano-Lax started this project as a biography of Pablo Casals. Over time, it evolved into more of a mosaic, incorporating major historical events and the lives of other musicians who lived in interesting times. The story is beautifully written, with fascinating, well-developed characters and a pleasure to read. My copy of The Spanish Bow came from the LibraryThing Early Reviewer program; purchase your copy at Amazon.com.

Review: The Whiskey Rebels by David Liss

If you like Historical Fiction with a strong emphasis on the Historical, you're going to love The Whiskey Rebels.

This book is well-written and painstakingly researched. Liss clearly has a thorough knowledge of the history behind the story, the language and demeanour of the characters, and the workings of the frontier economy. (It is truly bizarre to hear them keep referring to Pittsburgh as "the frontier.") All of the detail of the story rings true and those with a real interest in this period of American history will be fascinated.

The narration skips back and forth between Ethan Saunders, a former spy who was falsely accused of treason, and Joan Maycott, a headstrong young woman married to a war veteran. Ethan Saunders would like to reclaim his good name, but fears he can only do so at the expense of his partner, who died soon after the accusations became public. Joan Maycott and her husband, Andrew, are trying to make a good life for themselves on the wild frontier, and are caught up in the beginnings of what will become the Whiskey Rebellion. The movement between narrators is never confusing, and the shifting viewpoints gives you a chance to look at the story from all angles.

The problem, for me, was that I just didn't care about any of these characters. I didn't care if Joan Maycott wrote the first American novel. I didn't care if Ethan Saunders reclaimed his good name and won the affection of the affection of the lovely Cynthia. The only thing I was vaguely curious about was when and how Ethan would tell Leonidas, his slave, that he had freed him. At one point, I accidentally left this book on my credenza at work over the weekend...and I didn't miss it one bit. That is almost without precedent. I realize I am a lone dissenter in this case; most of the reviews I have read have been far more glowing. Sadly, this book just did not capture me.

So how to summarize? The book is well-written, extremely detailed and historically accurate. If you're more interested in the history than the fiction, you'll be pleased, but even the author's skill couldn't make a compelling story out of the monetary policies of Alexander Hamilton. History buffs will love it, but others might want to give it a pass.

The Whiskey Rebels will be released September 30th. My copy was an Advanced Reader Edition. Pre-order yours at Amazon.com.

The Heretic's Daughter by Kathleen Kent

The problem with reading a book about the Salem witch trials is that you know how it ends, and you know it is going to end badly. It's like reading a book about the Titanic - you know the boat is going to sink, and even if the characters survive, they're going to get wet.

This was the undercurrent running through the early parts of The Heretic's Daughter. You know, considering the subject, that someone is going to be accused of witchcraft, and with each hurtful remark, each contentious run-in with a neighbor, you can feel it drawing closer. Still, even with a good idea of what was coming (the first chapter is an introductory letter that sets up most of the story), I was glued to the pages. This book had me reading in line at the grocery store, sneaking a few pages on my lunch break, and staying up way past my bedtime.

Author Kathleen Kent is a 10th generation descendent of Martha Carrier, the woman Cotton Mather referred to as "The Queen of Hell". This first-person narrative of the Salem witch trials focuses not on the witches and judges, but on the ordinary people who were swept up in the frenzy. The descriptions of the jail where accused witches were held, the filth and hunger and indignity, were shocking. The cruelty that these so-called religious people displayed was infuriating, but it was even worse to stand with Sarah, rooted on the railroad tracks, watching the train bearing down on her family.

It was easy to forget that at the time of these events, Sarah is only 9 years old. The hard work and responsibility required of her, just for basic survival, is unheard of today, in this country. It is told from the vantage point of an old woman, which accounts for some of the maturity of her voice, but it is still far more than a small child should have to bear.

The Heretic's Daughter is a great read and I strongly recommend it to fans of historical fiction and tales of early America. My copy was an Advance Reader Edition. Buy your copy today at Amazon.com.

The Aviary Gate by Katie Hickman

This is definitely a woman’s book. Although it is filled with danger and intrigue, men’s fantasies about harem girls are very different from the blushing virgins and vicious, back-stabbing women you’ll meet in The Aviary Gate – and it’s their loss if they don’t read it. It’s a fascinating glimpse of the inner workings of a harem and its denizens.

This is primarily the story of Celia Lamprey, a captain’s daughter who is shipwrecked on the eve of her wedding. She is eventually sold into the harem of Sultan Mehmet II in Constantinople, the same city where Paul Pindar, her former fiancé, is stationed as the representative of a merchant company.

Entwined with Celia’s story is the story of Elizabeth, a modern-day Englishwoman, who comes across a fragment of a manuscript telling Celia’s tale while she is researching her thesis. Elizabeth is in the middle of a bad break-up, and flees to Istanbul to look for more of the manuscript – and to finally make a break from her fickle lover, Marius.

Celia’s story is by far the meatier of the two. It is full of remarkable detail, luscious descriptions and the deadly politics of women in seclusion, scrambling for whatever power they can get their hands on. Her story has romance, violence and intrigue. It would work well as a novel all on its own.

Elizabeth’s story is not quite as interesting, but it moves along and it ties in nicely with Celia’s. Hickman has tried to add a bit of supernatural interest: her landlady in Istanbul is a mysterious figure, her new love interest is coincidentally named Mehmet, just like Celia’s sultan. Elizabeth seems not so much to research history as to intuit it. She has visions while visiting the old harem grounds. She hears voices during a run-in with Marius. I didn’t find these particularly interesting, but they aren’t a distraction. This is an excellent story in both the past and the present.

My copy of The Aviary Gate is an advanced reader edition, but it is now available and can be ordered here.

The 19th Wife by David Ebershoff

This book is the fastest 600 pages I’ve ever read. I received the book through the LibraryThing Early Reviewer program and I have to admit that I was a little intimidated by its size. I am not a speed reader. I tend to dawdle - I re-read passages, linger over good descriptions and generally take my sweet time - but this book hooked me right from the start. I read the first 300 pages in a single sitting and was surprised at just how quickly it moved along.

The 19th Wife is a complicated braid of a story, reaching from today’s headlines back to the origins of the Mormon religion. It combines a modern-day murder mystery with the fictionalized account of a well-known plural wife and a wealth of “documents” telling her story. The research required would have been phenomenal and it could have been dry as dust. Instead, the mix of fact and fiction, narrative and document, cleverly tells a complex story in a very interesting way.

Jordan is a "lost boy": raised in a fundamentalist Latter-Day Saints community known as The Firsts, at age 14 his mother and two church elders left him along the side of the highway to fend for himself. Six years later, his mother stands accused of his father’s murder. As Jordan struggles with his mixed emotions about his mother, her faith and her crime, we learn the story of Ann Eliza Young, the 19th wife of Brigham Young, early leader of the Mormon Church. Her story is historical fiction but based on historical fact. Ebershoff’s “documents” - fiction, but written in the style of actual historical documents - provide abundant details of her life, her marriage, and her crusade to end polygamy in the US.

Ann Eliza’s story is by far the meatier portion of the book. There is so much to tell! The history is compelling and you can’t help but draw parallels - Ann Eliza and Jordan, both victimized by their mother’s faith. Their mothers - both 19th wives - unable or unwilling to see the pain they are causing or change their course. A host of people, male and female, whose lives were shaped by the words of a prophet. Their world has changed very little in the hundred years between the families in this book.

The 19th Wife was a fabulous read and I am already recommending it to people I know. I expect to find it on my “Best of 2008” list at the end of the year. You can order your copy here.

The Terror, by Dan Simmons

I hate the cold. I really, really, really hate to be cold. Still, I have always loved tales of exploration and adventure, and I have several books about the exploration of the Arctic Circle in my library. The Terror combines a bit of history and a bit of mystery with excellent descriptions of the frozen north and a little Eskimo mythology.

The book's main character, Francis Rawdon Moira Crozier, is an actual historical figure, as is Sir John Franklin. The ships, the HMS Terror and the HMS Erebus, and the expedition to find the Northwest Passage were real - their adventure began in 1845 and much of the journey described in the book has been documented by other explorers. In The Terror, Dan Simmons tells his version of the end of that frozen journey.

As the novel begins, the voyage is well underway but taking a turn for the worse. The ships are iced in and the even the previous summer there was no respite, no break in the ice and no chance to either move forward or retreat to friendlier waters. They are low on food, coal and other supplies. To make matters worse, the ships are being stalked by something that lives on the ice. Crozier is convinced they are dealing with just an animal, probably one of the white northern bears they've read about. But this is more than just a bear. It is sneaky and clever and cruel. Two seamen are snatched off the deck and carried out into the night, only to be returned a day later...or partially returned. Whatever this thing is, it is a formidable enemy.

This book requires a rather strong stomach - while not overly gory, Simmons does not spare the details when it comes to the daily life of men aboard ship. Frostbite, scurvy, bad food, death, dismemberment, even cannibalism; it's not an easy living and these men are more desperate than most people can imagine.

I found the first two-thirds of the book captivating. The descriptions of the difficulties of this life and expedition are extremely well done. Crozier is a fascinating character - at one point, he has made clear plans to commit suicide, yet he has a powerful determination to survive the expedition and bring his men home safely. He is faced with every possible difficulty and every bit of bad luck you can imagine, but you really believe he is going to find a way out. The fact that this was a real expedition with a mysterious end adds a layer tragic despair to the tale that kept me glued to its pages.

In the last section of the book, Simmons turns to Inuit mythology to explain the fate of these explorers and their commander. I did not find this resolution as compelling as the physical realities of cold and hunger and mutiny. Still, the myths are interesting and through Lady Silence, the mute Inuit girl who has been living among the seamen, Captain Crozier finds an unusual route to redemption. The ending was...not disappointing, exactly, but not as satisfying as I had hoped. It is always good to see characters get their just desserts, but I would have preferred it if the men had had some understanding of what they were fighting. A mythical beast they could neither name nor really understand was just not up to the bar set in the beginning of this tale. I thought these men deserved better.