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Category: Risky Regencies


At this time of year, when we’re supposed to think about all we’re “thankful” for (like LOLRegencies and chocolate-cranberry truffles? Sequined party dresses and champagne? I’m definitely thankful for those…) I’m thankful for old favorite books to read, and the people who wrote them. And today is the 189th birthday of George Eliot, great writer and rebellious spirit!

Mary Anne Evans was born the youngest of 5 children in 1819. Her father was the manager of the Arbury Hall estate belonging to the Newdigate family in Warwickshire, and she was born on that estate at a house called South Farm. Early on she showed signs of obvious intelligence, and was allowed access to the library at Arbury, where she was especially interested in the volumes on classical Greece. Eventually she was sent to boarding schools at Attleborough, Nuneaton, and Coventry, where she met the evangelical Maria Lewis, who became her great friend and correspondent (until Mary Anne decided to quit going to church…)

In 1836 her mother died and she returned home to keep house for her father, until her elder brother married and took over the house and she and her father moved to Coventry. The move brought her closer to new influences, including the wealthy Charles and Cara Bray, whose home at Rosehill was a haven for people of radical views and liberal theologies. It was there she made the decision to stop attending church, which caused a deep rift between herself and her family (her father threatened to kick her out, but didn’t follow through). When her father died in 1849, she traveled to Switzerland with the Brays and then stayed on in Geneva alone. On her return to England the next year, she moved to London alone with the intent of becoming a writer. (Oh no! A woman on her own, running loose in Victorian England!!!)

In 1851 she met philosopher and critic George Henry Lewes, and by 1854 they were openly living together. Lewes was married, but he and his wife, Agnes Jervis, had agreed on an “open marriage”–in addition to the 3 children the Lewes’ had together, she also had several with other men. (Oh no! Shockers!!!) In 1854, Evans and Lewes went together to Berlin as a sort of “honeymoon”, where she called him her husband and started working on a series of essays that would eventually become Scenes of Clerical Life. She also came up with a new nom-de-plume–George Eliot.

In 1859, her first published novel, Adam Bede, made a big splash, and speculation as to the author’s identity ran rampant (there was even a “pretender” to the name, Joseph Liggins). In the end, she had to step forward and admit she was the author. The revelations of her private life shocked many of her readers, but it didn’t seem to affect sales. In 1867, the couple was even introduced to Princess Louise, daughter of Queen Victoria and a big fan.

Eliot continued to write well-received and popular novels for 15 years. After Adam Bede came The Mill on the Floss, dedicated “To my beloved husband, George Henry Lewes, I give this MS of my third books, written in the third year of our lives together.”

Her last novel was Daniel Deronda, published in 1876, after which she and Lewes moved to Witley, Surrey, in hopes that the fresh air would help improve his failing health. He died in November 1878, and Eliot spent the next two years editing his final work, Life and Mind. But the scandal didn’t end with Lewes death. In May 1880, Eliot married an American banker named John Walter Cross, 20 years her junior.

Cross was not the most stable of characters. On their honeymoon in Venice, he either jumped or fell from their hotel window into the Grand Canal (yuck!), and there were quarrels. That didn’t last long, as Eliot died soon after their return to their new house in Chelsea, on December 22, 1880, at the age of 61. The possibility of burial at Westminster Abbey was vetoed due to her naughty life (refusing to go to church, shacking up with Lewes, etc), and she was buried next to Lewes in Highgate Cemetery. In 1980, 100 years after her death, a memorial plaque was erected at Westminster’s Poet’s Corner.

Some of her other works include Silas Marner and Romola, set in 15th century Florence, but my personal favorite of her books (and one of my favorites of all time) is Middlemarch, her 7th and next-to-last work, published first in serial form between 1871-72. It’s a big book, with multiple plots, a huge cast of characters, and many underlying themes such as the status of women in society, the nature of marriage, religion/hypocrisy, political and educational reform, and idealism vs self-interest (themes that never lose their immediacy, especially if one looks at this year’s election!). It’s also a great story. Virginia Woolf called it “the magnificent book, with all its imperfections, is one of the few English novels written for grown-up people.”

Middlemarch was a Masterpiece Theater series in 1994, starring Juliet Aubrey and Rufus Sewell, and I have seen rumors of an upcoming feature film, written by Andrew Davies and directed by Sam Mendes, though I haven’t seen any casting news. Maybe Mendes’ wife, Kate Winslet? It’s hard to picture her falling for Casaubon’s BS, though.

A few sources I like (and used for this post) are: Jenny Uglow, George Eliot. Kathryn Hughes, George Eliot: The Last Victorian. Sandra Gilbert and Susan Gubar, The Madwoman in the Attic: The Woman Writer and the 19th Century Literary Imagination. Jerome Beaty, Middlemarch from Notebook to Novel: A Study of George Eliot’s Creative Method.

Do you enjoy George Eliot? What are your favorites of her books/the film adaptations of them? (There was good one not too long ago of Daniel Deronda). What books are you especially grateful for this holiday season??? (I think I’m going to curl up with Middlemarch this evening…)

I’ve been totally obsessed with 18th century France since I visited Versailles last month! And I’ve been feeding that obsession by reading the new book Versailles: The Biography of a Palace by Tony Spawforth. (I also wanted to buy another new book, Marie Antoinette and the Last Garden of Versailles, but I have been strictly warned by my family that I am not to buy any object on my Christmas gift wishlist!) And I’ve been shopping for fabric and trim for next summer’s Beau Monde Soiree costume. It’s just a total Marie Antoinette moment around here. And then I heard about this fabulous exhibit at the Royal Ontario Museum. They are displaying one the few extant gowns that belonged to Marie Antoinette!!! It’s very delicate and can only be displayed for a short time, but they’ve extended the exhibit to November 16. If you live near there at all, go go go, and send me info! (In the meantime, the website’s podcast about the gown is very interesting, but not nearly long enough)

It seems the gown was given to a lady-in-waiting and eventually taken to England (probably when that lady or her family fled the Revolution). It was re-cut during the 19th century, and the (fabulous, I’m sure) stomacher was lost. But it’s easy to picture how it must have looked when the Queen ordered it from Rose Bertin. It’s amazing.

I also found this picture of an exhibit in France (the shoes and garters are Marie Antoinette’s; the baby bonnet belonged to her daughter Marie Therese, Madame Royale).

And this is a fragment of one of the Queen’s petticoats in the Museum of London (given as mourning mementos to emigres in London after her death)

And this little goat carriage belonging to the royal children, displayed at the Petit Trianon

More Petit Trianon pictures!

So, I need some help putting together this costume for next summer. My living room is littered with swatches and bits of trim, not to mention “inspiration images” like the ones above! What color (pink, blue, silver, lavender? All of the above?) Trim (lace, tassles, fringe, flowers)? Shoes? Jewels?

And who are some of your historical inspirations? If you were going to a costume ball, what would your costume be (if you had to be either a historical figure or a character in a book?)

In my family, everyone makes wish lists around this time of year. It just makes holiday gift-giving so much simpler and avoids painful mistakes. There’s still a small element of surprise because we purposely make our lists long, not expecting to get everything on them and of course some items are a bit open-ended.

On my list this year there are the usual reference books including this one. My obsession with riflemen will not be satisfied until I’ve read every available firsthand account and I’ve barely begun.

I am hoping that some gaping holes in my DVD collection will be filled.

And there are always (figurative, not literal) gaps in my keeper shelf to be filled: books by favorite authors I’ve either had to borrow or not been able to find at all though friends with similar tastes rave about them. Some are hard to find. Luckily, my husband enjoys the challenge.

So what else is out there for us historical romance/Jane Austen junkies?

There’s always some fun stuff at the Pemberley shop at Cafe Press. I already own the “I blame Jane” T-shirt but now I am drooling over the new collection of magnets, such as this one and the one at the top.

The Jane Austen Centre has some cool holiday offerings. There’s a Regency straw bonnet you can trim yourself. And how about your own portrait of Mr. Darcy, printed on canvas?

For just a tiny splurge, check out The Three Graces’ Georgian jewelry section. There are all sorts of lovely baubles, including these diamond day night earrings. One can wear just the top part for day and attach the dangles for evening. So practical and only $5,450!

So what’s on your holiday wish list, fantasy or otherwise?

Elena
www.elenagreene.com



“Louly!”, rief ein in Blau gekleideter Jüngling und stürmte die Stufen herab. Nun erkannte Richard den Bruder Atalantas. “Wie geht’s meiner Louly-Lou?” Der Bursche schwang das Mädchen hoch in die Luft und wirbelte es herum. “Oh, verdammt, wie schwer du bist! Du musst mindestens so viel wiegen wie ein Kriegsschiff, mit hundert Kanonen bestückt und Proviant für zehn Jahre beladen!” Stöhnend gab er vor, unter Loulys Gewicht zu taumeln. “Jetzt weiss ich, du musst der Elefant sein, der heute Abend hier auftreten soll.”

Ächzend und stöhnend sank er auf die Knie. Dann liess er Louly mit einem übertriebenen Seufzer der Erleichterung los, stand schwankend auf und wandte sich zu Atalanta.

“Wie stolz müssen Sie auf Ihren kleinen Elefanten sein, Ms. James…”, spottete er.

“Ja, in der Tat”, bestätigte sie, bückte sich und wischte den Staub von seiner Hose. “Es ist mein grosser Elefant, der mir solche Schwierigkeiten bereitet.”

“Louly!” shouted a youth dressed in blue who was storming down the steps. Now Richard recognized Atalanta’s brother. “How goes it, my Louly-Lou?” The fellow swung the girl high in the air and whirled her around. “Oh, damn, you’re so heavy! You must weigh at least as much as a hundred-cannon warship loaded with ten years’ provisions!” Groaning, he pretended to reel under Louly’s weight. “Now I know, you must be the elephant that’s going to appear here tonight.”

Moaning and groaning, he sank to his knees. Then he let go Louly with an excessive sigh of relief, bounced up and turned to Atalanta.

“How proud you must be of your little elephant, Miss James,” he teased.

“Yes, indeed,” she confirmed, bending down and wiping the dust off his trousers. “It is my big elephant which causes such difficulties for me.”

“Louly!” called the blue-coated lad who bounded down the wide flight of steps toward them. Stoke recognized Atalanta’s brother Tom as he leapt down the last few steps and embraced Louly in a great bear-hug. “How’s my Louly-Lou? How is my plum duff?” The lad lifted Louly off her feet and whirled her around. “Oh crikey, you’re heavy! You must be big as a hundred-gun man o’ war with all its provisions on board.” Tom pretended to stagger under Louly’s weight. “I know! You must be the elephant I’ve come to see.”

After making a great show of being brought to his knees, Tom released Louly with an exaggerated sigh of relief. He bounced back to his feet, and turned to look at Atalanta. “You must be so proud of your little elephant, Miss James.”

Atalanta leaned over to brush the dirt off of the knees of Tom’s trousers. “Yes indeed. It’s my big elephant who causes all the trouble.”

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