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All this week Risky Regencies celebrate Jane Austen’s birthday. Monday through Saturday each of our blogs will relate in some way to Jane Austen, one of the greatest novelists of all time, a novelist who wrote with such acute authenticity about her own time that she gave subsequent generations such love of it that we still savor Regency novels today.

In celebration (and appreciation) of Jane Austen we will be giving away prizes to two of our Risky Regency commenters this week. Amanda has donated a signed copy of Carrie Bebris’s Mr. and Mrs. Darcy mystery Pride and Prescience, and I have a copy of Maggie Lane’s A Charming Place: Bath in the Life and Novels of Jane Austen to give away. Our winners will be selected at random from all the comments of the week and will be announced next Sunday, Dec 20.

Jane Austen visited Bath as a young woman, once the guest of her aunt, Mrs. Leigh Perrot, who was later falsely incarcerated for stealing a bit of lace. In 1801 Jane’s father decided to retire to Bath, thus Jane had to leave the country village of Steventon to live in a busy city with her parents. Not being wealthy, their circumstances in Bath were less than ideal and the years from 1801 to 1805 (when her father died) were not happy ones for Jane. It is thought that she did no writing in Bath. Still, the city provided her with many opportunities to observe the various characters who lived in Bath and those who visited to take the waters. Perhaps Catherine Moreland of Northanger Abbey reflects the youthful Jane’s impressions of Bath. Anne in Persuasion showed Jane’s more mature, less admiring view.

When Amanda and I visited Bath on the 2003 Novel Explorations Regency Tour, what often filled my mind was that Jane Austen had walked these same streets and saw the same sites.

This is one of the places she called home.

I could imagine her walking a street like this one.

To visit the shops

And gaze in the shop windows.

Maybe she would explore the city and walk down steps like this.

Or visit someone’s Georgian garden.

She, of course, would view the Royal Cresent

And, like we did, she would have danced in the Assembly Rooms.

That’s me, second to the left in the dark blue dress. Amanda is just a little left of center and Deb Marlowe is a little right of center.

If you have visited Bath, what was your favorite place to see? If you’ve never been to Bath, what would you like to see? Do you have any tidbits about Jane Austen’s time in Bath?

Remember to comment for a chance to win! And to visit every day this week

And, don’t forget, Gallant Officer, Forbidden Lady is still in bookstores. Visit my website. I have a contest too.

I’m glad I’m starting to see less of a certain reality TV couple on the newsstands and the grocery store. I haven’t watched Jon & Kate Plus 8, before or after the scandal. I was put off by the commercials which always seemed to feature screaming kids. I’ve been there, done that with two and have no desire to see it multiplied fourfold, you know? And I’m not much into reality TV, unless you count makeover shows. So I haven’t watched other shows featuring large families like Table for 12 or 18 Kids and Counting.

But they’re clearly popular. Maybe because most families are smaller now, people are just curious. Maybe people like the idea because they feel that in a large family one would never be lonely. (I’m not so sure.) But definitely there’s lots of room for chaos and conflict, never a dull moment. Personally, there are many times I *long* for dull moments when I could sit down with a cup of tea and a book! Although I love my family, I also really like being alone sometimes, so being part of a large family isn’t a personal fantasy of mine.

When talking about historical romance series, large families are historically accurate. While some couples went their separate ways after the production of the “heir and spare” or had small families for other reasons, many couples wanted large families. A wealthy lord might hope not only for an heir but also other sons who might (with his help) become generals, admirals, bishops, diplomats or MPs and thus extend the family’s influence. Daughters might make strategic alliances or at least be a comfort to their parents.

Amongst the fifty women studied in one of my favorite references books, In the Family Way by Judith Schneid Lewis, the mean number of children was 7.5. The most prolific lady studied, the Duchess of Leinster (1731-1814), had eighteen children by the Duke, went on after his death to marry her sons’ tutor and had three more children, for a total of 21 children in 31 years. Whew! It sounds exhausting, even with nursery staff, governesses and tutors to help.

Many readers love historical romance series featuring large families. Personally, I’m OK with them but prefer when they aren’t too closely linked. I never have as much time as I’d like to read, so it’s nice that I can enjoy individual books, like those in Jo Beverley’s Malloren series, without committing to reading all of them on time and in order. I know, that violates the whole marketing concept, but I am not a typical reader.

I’m OK with romantic couples being depicted, in an epilogue, surrounded by a large and growing family. I can imagine that with the right household help, and with the hero being more involved as a father than most men of his time, it could work. But I don’t need to see a huge brood–or any children at all, for that matter–to believe the couple are happy.

Do you enjoy stories of large families, whether modern or historical? Why or why not? Do you have any favorite romance series featuring large families? What sorts of endings do you like to see for romantic couples?

Elena


This weekend, my husband and son are heading out of town to help my mother-in-law decorate her house for the holidays.

Leaving me very much alone.

Now, if you have read my posts before, you will know that this is not a moment to feel sorry for me. But to be envious of all the freedom I will have!

I will do some of my favorite things this weekend:

Frequent Napping.
Wine-Imbibing.
Watching Movies, preferably, as one friend says, long-ass Japanese ones with subtitles.
Although I Might Also Go See New Moon.
Reading.
Playing Word Games Online (Facebook’s Scramble rocks my socks).
Seeing a Friend or Two.
Taking Baths.
Drinking Tea (a friend just sent me a whole awesome package of tea from Teavana! I was floored!)

And perhaps a few of my less favorite things:

Exercising (I have lost seven pounds, would like to drop at least seven more).
Synopsis-Writing.
Regular Writing.
Mopping (have you SEEN my floors?!?)

What would you most like to do with your free time? How about what you’d least like to do?

Megan

PS: Middle School applications go in on Monday; hopefully regular Frampton Frenzy, including writing, will begin after that.

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Today I’m talking about one of the favorite occupations (no, not that one) of the Regency gentleman. Now, I’m always flummoxed by what the wealthy and idle did all day, other than change clothes, particularly those gentlemen who seem to have time on their hands in a testosterone-rich, nationalistic era.

Boxing, or beating the crap out of each other with bare fists, was a favorite occupation, whether as spectator or participant (although the lines were somewhat blurred). Today is the anniversary of the 1810 match between Tom Molineaux, a former slave from Virginia, and Tom Cribb, the English champion. Cribb won, just. Molineaux’s finger was broken in a fracas with Cribb’s supporters after nineteen rounds. In the twenty-eighth round, Molineaux knocked Cribb out but was accused of hiding lead bullets in his fists, and during the argument Cribb revived and the fight continued. Molineaux slipped and hit his head on one of the ring posts, and fought on, but was beaten in the thirty ninth, or fortieth round. More here.

All good clean fun, according to the official rules of boxing at the time (pre-Queensberry, remember) which were as follows:

  • Fights are with bare fists.
  • No kicking, biting, gouging, or elbowing.
  • Grappling and throws are allowed above the waist.
  • A round ends when one fighter is knocked down. Fighters are given 30 seconds to rest, and the next round begins.
  • There are no judges to score the bout.

Yet boxing was regarded as a science, hence Pierce Egan’s definition, the sweet science of bruising, in his work Boxiana. Another English boxing champion, Daniel Mendoza of Portugese-Jewish descent, wrote a Treatize on Boxing. Mendoza was famous for revolutionizing the style of boxing; although he weighed only 160 lbs and stood 5′ 7″ tall, he was the first fighter to actually float like a butterfly and sting like a bee. Eighteenth century style demanded that opponents stood facing each other and just hit each other. Some spectators thought Mendoza’s style ungentlemanly.

And isn’t it interesting that an openly Jewish boxer and a black boxer found fame in England?

Here’s an excerpt from Improper Relations (February 2010, still 53% off with free shipping, hint, hint) regarding boxing:

Much to my relief, I am not to be the principal in a family drama. My brother George has appropriated that role, stretched upon the couch (his muddy boots still on his feet, something only he and Henry would be allowed to do), while my mama laments and groans, a basin in her hand.

“Why, George, what’s the matter?” I ask.

He sits up. “Capital fellow, Shad!” I see now he has a dreadful black eye, and his appearance is not improved by a beefsteak dribbling blood onto his neckcloth. “Did a few rounds with me at Jackson’s, and you should see his right hook! Tremendous fellow, excellent sportsman, damned fast on his feet—”

My mother makes a tremulous whimpering sound at his strong language.

“Beg your pardon, ma’am,” he continues. “I wasn’t too keen on the idea of you marrying him, Lottie—he’s a trifle high in the instep I thought, for a fellow who’s got an estate in a pretty bad way, won’t enclose, you see, so he’s squandering money on his tenants, bad money after good. Or do I mean good after bad? So—”

“You mean Shad did that to you?” I’m horrified.

“Yes, and he got a few blows in on my ribs. Thought he’d broken one, but it’s not so bad now—”

“Pray, lie down, Dearest Boy,” my mother intones.

She places her basin on a small table to reach for her decanter of cordial.

“Are you completely mad, George?”

He shrugs, the same stupid proud grin on his face. “Damned gentlemanly of him to invite me to a round, that’s all I can say. I’ll be proud to shake his hand and call him brother.”

“But you wanted to kill him last night.”

“Oh, that…” he waves a hand. “We’re the best of friends, now.”

I’m not going to ask you if you’ve hit anyone recently, but what Regency pastimes do you find mindbogglingly idiotic? And which do you think you’d have enjoyed?

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This post actually has a point. I swear.

A few years back, I decided I wanted to get a Master’s and/or/maybe a PhD in English. Unfortunately, I was a Political Science major who entered college with AP English units and college English classes taken when I was in high school, so I only had to take one English class my entire time in college. As far as applying to grad school English programs, my college record was pretty much a zero. After reading the various admission requirements I’d imagine a committee looking at my application and seeing one English class on a transcript that was years old. Sigh.

And she wants an advanced degree in English why? On what basis are we to believe she can do this?

So I had the bright idea of getting a second BA in English from a University that 1) was REALLY close to where I live and 2) offered a 2nd BA program for people just like me. After which I would apply to grad programs.

Yay!

I applied, got in and signed up for the British Literature survey. I was the oldest person in a class of freshmen. Oh, my, they were so young, these freshmen students, most of whom were there only to satisfy a graduation requirement. The professor, unbeknown to me at the time, happened to be the dean of graduate admissions for the English department. As a returning student, single parent, working full time plus writing (which I NEVER mentioned) who was paying for school on her own dime, I was a highly motivated student. This means I did the reading. Often twice.

Doing the reading turns out to be one of the secrets to getting an A in a class. I wish I’d known that when I was an undergrad the first time. My grades would have been way better. Doing the reading means when you take the written test you pretty much have a built in B without even trying. Put in just a little thought and an A is a piece of cake. Papers are more work, of course, but the reading makes them easier to write, and the motivated student tends to start the paper well in advance of the due date.

When I tutored at the University writing center later on, I was surprised by the number of students who’d come in at 4:00 for help on paper due at 6:00. And they had nothing done yet. And hadn’t done the reading, either.

I was also, as is the case with most writers, very very well read compared to the average student. (In fact, as it turned out, I had already read about 3/4ths of the graduate reading list, but I didn’t know that at the time. I only knew that the prof gave me these really odd smiles when I mentioned some book or other I’d read that seemed relevant to our discussions of British Lit.)

Anyway, it wasn’t long before my prof took me aside — with me thinking, Oh, no! What did I do wrong? to ask me what I was doing in the class. I wasn’t sure what she meant — was I that bad? I thought she was going to ask me to leave the class.

(Experts will no doubt recognize this as another form of writer’s neurosis, that is, a writer’s conviction that everything she she writes is utter crap.)

I explained to her why I was enrolled in the 2nd BA program and that my goal was to apply to grad programs when I actually had the stated prerequisites for admission. She very kindly told me that I was already at graduate student level (Yes, I began to glow!) and that I was really very good and she just looked so proud of me, that I thought, wow. She really means that!

At which point she told me about her position as Dean and advised me to just apply to the grad program despite my lack of objective qualifications. And she agreed when I asked her to write me a letter of recommendation. Heh. I TA’d for her for the second semester of the British Lit Survey.

Well, I suppose it’s no surprise that I was admitted to the Grad program, but conditionally, which meant that in addition to the regular requirements, I was supposed to take a lot of undergrad English classes to make up for my utter lack of undergraduate English courses. I felt a lot like a kid in a candy shop. I signed up for courses that seemed interesting to me. Essentially, I was supposed to do the undergrad work I lacked BEFORE I took the grad level courses. I took all the writing courses allowed, which wasn’t very many, but oh well. However, many of the undergrad courses lacked the challenge I was looking for.

Remember, all this was on my time in a life already pretty full and paid for out of my pocket. Highly motivated student, right? I was there to build up my ability to critically analyze and bring that to bear on my writing. Sometimes being the oldest student and, not infrequently, the only one who’d done the reading, was kind of irritating.

So, I approached one of my professors, who I happened to really like, and asked him if he thought it would be OK for me to sign up for one of his grad level courses. He said yes, and I pretty much never looked back.

This decision turned out well since I was now in classes with people who were equally motivated and passionate about the courses they were in. Like me, they were there to learn. Just about everybody did the reading. Some were older students. Professors took us through difficult material and required thorough reading and analysis. Papers were longer and included more difficult themes.

There was a certain professor who had a reputation for being not just tough but unkind to the point of maliciousness. I knew from casual conversations with various undergrads and even from former (graduated) students, that he seemed to be particularly vicious toward women. At the time, I already had a psycho boss (not kidding about that). Life is too short to spend with a destructive personality. I resolved never to take a class from this professor, and I didn’t, even when it would have been convenient to my schedule. Tough I can handle. Unkind, capricious and even malicious, I won’t tolerate. I have been there. I won’t ever do that again.

I also decided I would just save the boring undergrad stuff for last, which was also a good decision because eventually they waived that requirement for me. Not just because, but because I had proved I wasn’t lacking in the knowledge the requirements were supposed to provide.

I was not, suffice it to say, on the 2 year plan for completing my MA. Time, money and physical needs like sleeping and paying attention to my son, meant that I could only take one course a semester.

And yet, I graduated. I published two more books while I was in school. I learned a tremendous amount about myself, my writing and my abilities. Even though it was time and money out of my life, I don’t regret for a minute getting the degree.

My Points and Conclusions

  • Don’t underestimate what you can do.
  • Fear holds you back from failure and success, and you need to experience both.
  • Subject matter experts WANT to help you — in the appropriate forum. Example: Do not call your professors at home. Drop by office hours. Make an appointment.
  • Be prepared. Good things happen to prepared people.
  • Have a plan for success.
  • Criticism or disagreement is often discourse NOT a personal reflection on you. That discourse can help you work through difficult issues. For writers, this means paying attention to criticism: analyze it. Evaluate it. Be prepared to change your mind if the evidence is against you.
  • Do the reading. Create the foundation for your success. For writers, that means learning about writing. Do it. Study it. Learn it.
  • Hang out with other highly motivated smart people and talk about your passions. For writers, this means hang out with other writers.
  • Take risks. Remember, good things happen to students who’ve done the reading.
  • Believe in yourself. If you’ve done the reading, engaged in some critical discourse, and hung out with other smart people in your area of passion, you know more than you think.
  • Watch out for excuses. Especially when you come up with them before you’ve tried something. (See Planning For Success).
  • Do what you can and don’t stress if it’s taking you longer than someone else.
  • Protect yourself from assholes. Stay far far away from people who actively undermine your confidence.
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