A Civil Contract

I really enjoyed A Civil Contract. It is very different from Heyer's usual. I read it on the heels of The Grand Sophy, and there's a large contrast. The Grand Sophy is uproarious fun, with an unlikely lead (for her time) and lots of light-hearted humour. I think its one of Heyer's best, but so is A Civil Contract, in a very different way.

A Civil Contract begins with the unexpected death of the irresponsible Lord Lynton in a hunting accident. His son, Adam Deveril, who is army-mad, finds himself called home to face his father's legacy of debts and near-bankruptcy. Upright and sensitive, but with little knowledge of estate management or agriculture, Adam tries to learn as much as possible in very little time, but soon finds that the situation is bleak. His mother, who is selfish, weak, and frankly quite annoying, has her own - I'm not sure what the word is: settlement? allowance? - but his two sisters need to be taken care of. The elder one, Charlotte, is sweet and vapid, like Frederica's sister in Frederica (I don't even remember her name!); the younger one, Lydia, is irreverent, young and naive, and a lot more taking than her namesake in Pride and Prejudice. Charlotte has a suitor, Lambert, but Lydia hasn't even come out yet. Adam, at his wit's end, and considering selling the ancestral home, Fontley, is told by his business agent, Wimmering, that his best (and only) option is to marry a rich heiress. Adam, who is in love with a beautiful, ethereal creature named Julia, is aghast at the notion, even though he knows that he can now never propose to Julia (as he has nothing to offer her).

Lord Oversley, Julia's father, is sympathetic to Adam's plight, but is unwilling, nevertheless, to let his daughter, in effect, marry a pauper. He does, however, think of the same solution that Wimmering does, and speaks to an extremely rich merchant friend, Mr. Chawleigh, with an eligible daughter. Mr. Chawleigh's goal in life is to have his daughter Jenny enter the ranks of the elite and live it up among the rich 'nobs'. He is overbearing, garrulous, and his manners are 'vulgar', but his heart is in the right place. He goes to see Adam, and oblivious to any and all hints, proceeds to elaborate on Jenny and a prospective alliance. He judges Adam to be a decent gentlemen and asks him to consider the proposal. Adam, dazed and unwilling at first, soon realizes that he truly has no other option if he wants to save Fontley. He agrees, and soon he and Jenny meet.

In a typical romance novel, Adam would come to realize that his love for Julia was nothing but puppy-love, and would fall head-over-heels in love with Jenny, after resisting through the initial half of the novel. The reader will be puzzled about this futile resistance to something that seems obvious, but the romance genre has a formula that is rarely broken. Jane Austen, and only Jane Austen, ever makes a romance that is far more than a romance - and that inspired half these clichés in the first place, I bet. Yet, somehow, even now, when this formula pervades the romance sections in the bookstores, you read Austen, and clichés couldn't be further from your mind.

I digress. The point I was trying to make was that A Civil Contract is not your typical romance. Jenny is plain - and I mean actually plain - not attractive in an unconventional way to the hero - and she is bordering on stout. She is practical, with a sense of humour, but unromantic. Julia, on the other hand, is sylph-like, romantic, innocent, beautiful, and I hated her guts. I don't know if she was supposed to be so detestable, but I thought she was self-involved, stupid and extremely impractical. I know practicality isn't supposed to be precisely an attractive quality, but I find the the kind of 'ingenuity' or 'innocence' Julia displays repellant. I felt like smacking her on the head atleast a dozen times through the novel. However, the men are clearly stupid, because instead of embarking on this worthy endeavor, they line up at her feet. Adam is blinded by Julia's ethereal beauty and the contrast between her and commonplace Jenny. He is kind, and tries to be charitable, but he cannot help comparing the two. Jenny, who had no expectations of love, and has no illusions about his feelings for Julia (even though Adam, to his credit, behaves very honourably to them both) does not think she has a right to complain. She, who is married to him, and therefore has a far greater right to anger, makes no complaint, while Julia makes a big fuss, dramatically telling Jenny that she has been betrayed (Jenny and Julia studied at the same boarding school, and incomprehensibly, are friends), and fainting at the sight of Adam at a gathering where all three concerned parties are present, along with plenty of onlookers. Jenny, who really has a little too much humility, tries her best to cover up this faux pas, trying to show society that all is normal between them by driving with Jenny, and inviting her to events. Meanwhile, Julia goes on behaving like an immature drama queen, looking anguished and playing sad music whenever Adam is around.

Why he sees no fault in this while Jenny is falling over herself trying to make their marriage work is beyond me.

That said, Adam really is a very nice protagonist. He is sensitive, kind and tolerant, and while he is a little unfair to Jenny, he really does try to get along with her as well. Also, he is not a 'rake' - at least Heyer doesn't mention it, if he is - which is a huge plus point in my opinion. I am sick and tired of historical fiction authors making their male protagonists 'rakes'. No, it does not make them attractive. And it infuriates me because the female equivalents, while intelligent and independent and suspiciously modern, are 'innocent' and fall ardently in love with one and only one man each in all their lives. I'm not saying that they have to make Victorian females 'fast' or flirts, but why the double standard? You never see Austen making her male leads 'rake' equivalents, and they are plenty attractive.

To get back to the point, Adam is a wonderfully nice gentleman. It really isn't his fault that he is burdened with duties he has never been prepared for, and it is easy to excuse his occasional displays of temper. I can see how it would be hard to find Jenny pleasing when her father dresses her like a peacock and makes her a 'walking advertisement for a jewellery shop', and constantly interferes in their life, particularly by giving them extravagant gifts, which the proud Adam particularly hates. Despite these substantial obstacles, however, Adam and Jenny come to an understanding, and therein lies the beauty of the book.

Jenny is 'commonplace' and she knows it. She has no charm or attractiveness, and is not an eloquent speaker. But she is practical, hard-working, generous and kind, and she has a wonderful sense of humour. I found her infinitely preferably to Julia, although I did wish that she would stand up for herself more often. After all, it is because of her that Adam is able to save Fontley, and she has every right to expect decent treatment. Adam himself seems conscious of this and even reproaches himself: 'I take all and give nothing.' But this is more Jenny's fault than Adam's because she is all too willing to buckle to Adam and to try to please him, even though he is not in the least dominating or unkind.

Adam does, however, gradually come to see Jenny's value. She is an excellent 'housekeeper'; she is very kind; she has, as I've already said around three times, an excellent, if rather understated sense of humour. Their relationship grows into a warm companionship, as they begin to feel easy and less conscious in each other's presence, and begin to actually talk to each other. Jenny gives birth to a baby boy, and the process of her pregnancy really brings them closer together, because Adam begins to forget Julia in his concern for Jenny's comfort and safety (which Julia finds vexing, and I found immensely satisfying). Even towards the very end of the book, I expected Adam to fall passionately in love with Jenny, after all, because which 'romance' novel doesn't end that way? But the ending is far more beautiful than if Heyer had put trite words of passion in Adam's mouth, because it is touchingly real. Jenny is in love with Adam; how could she not be, when he is handsome, kind, sensitive, and has a sense of humour? Adam, however, does not feel an undying passion for her, but rather a companionable love, more of a warmth and a comfort in her presence, and a consciousness that long years with Jenny will be very pleasant and harmonious. He knows that Julia would never have been half the mistress of Fontley that Jenny is; he realizes that he may occasionally have tired of Julia if he had married her. But there is no grand realization of all-consuming love, no pivotal declaration. Although Jenny feels a pang at the thought that Adam will never love her the way he loved Julia, she takes comfort in the realization that what they have may be far more valuable; a deep and abiding friendship.

Winter vacation

Note: This post has been 'in progress' for a while. As you can see, I started it before, during vacation. Be warned: it is extremely long.

I'm having a spiffing time. I'm so glad that my vacation was long enough for me to return to India.

These were the highlights.

1. Gravity

'Gravity' was the most powerful movie experience of my life. It achieves an immediacy that has you tensing your shoulders, flinching at debris that flies towards you, and praying that Dr. Stone doesn't face yet another obstacle. The cinematography was stunning; besides giving you a very realistic taste of what it feels like to be in space, it captures the haunting loneliness and desperation of the lone survivor of a disaster, stuck in an extremely dangerous situation with no time to mourn and no one to turn to. It also reflects Dr. Stone's lostness - the way she 'just keeps driving'. I avoid movies like 127 hours because I don't want to be put through such an experience, even vicariously. And yet, I did not regret for a single moment that I'd gone to this movie, even though I thought I wouldn't be able to watch it a second time - it was too emotionally draining (I've changed my mind now. Anyone willing to come with me to see it a second time?). A gripping, almost transformative experience that stays with you - Gravity is a beautiful film - dazzling both technically, and with its taut, simple story.

2. Music and Dance

I attended a number of wonderful concerts this vacation. The first one I went to was an Andhra Pradesh Cultural Festival that ran for three days. During the concert, we saw Mangala Bhatt, eminent Kathak dancer, and her students perform a number of compositions; Dr. Jayaprada, flutist extraordinaire, and her ensemble; and a father-son duo of ghazal singers along with a group, whose names I unfortunately do not remember, or you can be sure I would have included another photo. It was a beautiful program. Mangala Bhatt was extremely graceful, and her students were marvelous too. They had Bhatt alternating with her students, with her performing to the slower, more expressive and graceful music, and her students doing solos to faster, more active and vibrant themes. I think the overall theme was the elements, and it was wonderfully portrayed.

Dr. Jayaprada's music was absolutely mesmerizing (you can hear a sample here, although I wish I'd found one of the same music without the movie clips interrupting, because it is an exquisite piece). I've always loved flute and violin music, and I used to imagine I could hear faint, hypnotic strains of flute in the mornings. Dr. Jayaprada is the first Indian female flutist from Andhra Pradesh, and holds a world record. Her music is brilliant, and I feel so fortunate to have seen her live.
The ghazals were very interesting to listen to, but I wished I could understand the language more. It was too sophisticated for me, and my mom enjoyed it more than I did.

The next concert I attended was the Times of India Lakshminarayana music festival (I wish it had a less unwieldy name). There was a fascinating mix of artists and music, with Dr. Subramaniam, who is a suberb violinist; his son Ambi, who seems to have inherited his talent; Kavita Krishnamoorthy, who has an unusual voice that is captivating when she sings old Hindi songs; Øystein Baadsvik, a Norwegian tuba player, who pioneered the tuba as a solo instrument, and Hubert Laws, who is an American jazz instrumentalist and singer. I liked the tuba pieces, which were extremely innovative and fun to listen to, and the jazz was interesting, too, but my favourite bits were the violin pieces which were amazing. The speed with which they were rendered was unbelievable, and Ambi's talent is also exceptional. I thought that Bindu Subramaniam's English songs were rather incongruous in the concert, especially with Kavita Krishnamoorthy's Hindi, and Hindi classical singing.

The third concert, and if there could be a highlight to a highlight this would be it, was Dr. Balamuralikrishna's concert. I wrote about a concert I attended in Chowmahallah palace nearly two years ago with Dr. Balamuralikrishna and Pt. Vishwa Mohan Bhatt. I had the same euphoric experience this time. Dr. Balamuralikrishna, who is growing old, did not sing for as long and as uninterruptedly as before, but his voice was as strong and as spellbinding as ever.
If you've ever seen Dr. Balamuralikrishna live, you'll know that that mischievous smile is typical of him as his music fills your brain and your heart and takes you into a different plane where you feel this spiritual bliss fill your heart. He pushes his accompanists to their limits with his unmatchable alapanas (improvisations), and there are times when his violinist just puts his violin down, folds his hands, and bows his head. As you hear his divine music, it sometimes seems as if he has to be something more than human, something larger than life. As a lover of Carnatic music, I absolutely revere him. He is a giant, the Thyagaraja of our times.

3. Frozen

I saw this movie twice. Once during Thanksgiving break with my cousins, and once in 3D with my parents. I don't know if its a movie worth watching twice in theaters, but I am animation-crazy, so I coerced my parents into it the second time because I wanted to see how those beautiful snowy backgrounds would look in 3D. I liked the movie, which had stunning animation (even surpasses 'Tangled'); a decent story, with a satisfying break from the true-love cliché; and a decent musical score with one exceptional stand-out in Idina Menzel's 'Let it Go'. I think Tangled was funnier, but I liked Frozen too.


4. New Year's celebration
I actually danced during this! I mean an actual dance performance with some friends. I was very amateurish but it was still great fun.

5. Missamma

This is an old, black and white Telugu movie. I never thought I'd be able to enjoy a black and white film, but I loved Missamma. The two leads were beautiful (NTR and Savitri), Nageshwar Rao was hilarious, and the quaint, wholesome, old-timey feel of it all was delicious.
The story revolves around two poor BAs who pose as a married couple in order to get a job at a school (the employers advertise for a married BA couple in order to save money on providing separate rooms and board).

One scene, where Mary (Savitri) tries to teach a tone deaf Raju (Nageshwar Rao) to sing is golden (https://youtu.be/Dszx6GbRm-4?t=2h2m29s). It's an absolute riot. The lovely Savitri, who is almost perennially furious in this movie, mostly at NTR, is still somehow very lovable. Another scene I really liked was one where Mary is giving Seetha (Jamuna) a music lesson, and keeping a jealous tab on NTR, flaring up whenever he looks in their direction. There is also a beautiful dream sequence where Mary dreams that she is saved by NTR. Of course, this being an old movie, the songs were divine (I particularly like Brindavana Madi apart from the popular Ravoyi Chandamama), too.

6. Books, books and books
And, of course, I read and read and read! I read a lot of Georgette Heyer this vacation, and I love her. I think Heyer is like a lighter version of Austen. I read The Grand Sophy on my flight back to the US, and I adored it. I will review it in another post...

The Spanish Bride

The major difficulty I had while reading this book was a lack of understanding of the military terms and maneuvers and a very shallow knowledge (actually almost non-existent) of the Napoleonic wars. So I did not understand at least half the book. However, the rest - the interactions between the characters and the descriptions of the conditions tolerated by soldiers and their suffering in certain environments and battles - was easy enough to understand.

The Spanish Bride, by Georgette Heyer, starts off with the marriage of Brigade-Major Harry Smith and Juana. Juana is married at the tender age of fourteen. However, the marriage is not forced; Harry Smith and Juana fall in love almost on sight. Thankfully Harry Smith is only twenty three; if he had been in his thirties or forties, I think I would have abandoned the book then and there. Juana travels with Smith while he campaigns and does battle, sharing all the privations and inconveniences of army life. She is tough and determined, never complaining about what she has to face, or despairing because she has no contact with her Spanish family (I actually found this very strange. Juana is married at the age of fourteen - fourteen! - and loses contact with her family so totally that she is effectively orphaned, and she seems to forget all about them as soon as she is married. She doesn't as much as mention that she misses them). The book follows their life until the defeat of Napolean, with some very interesting insertions of what Wellington said and did at different times, and depictions of what his soldiers and generals thought of him.

Juana seemed strangely like a female lead from one of Eva Ibbotson's books - fiery, passionate, short-tempered, able to get on with just about anyone, almost able to talk to animals and sing with the birds. While hugely enjoying Ibbotson's books, I always had the idea that such women did not exist in the real world. If Heyer's portrayal is any accurate, it seems that Juana was hugely charming and charismatic - liked by everyone - and also very democratic, brave, and compassionate. Descriptions of her actions and words and interactions with Smith were entertaining and enjoyable. Harry Smith comes across as impetuous, brave, boyish, hot-tempered, and a little immature. The chemistry between the two is wonderful, and seems very real. There were also some very nice secondary characters, including Cadoux and George Simmons, some of Smith's superiors, and Smith's family.

There is a bias towards the English in describing the wars. I always have difficulty rejoicing when one side wins a battle in a book (especially when the battle has really occurred) because I am always thinking of the other side and its casualties. But despite the background, the book wasn't too heavy or depressing. Overall, I enjoyed the book, but I would have enjoyed it a lot more if I understood the historical background and the military terms and maneuvers.

The Talisman Ring

Having reflected on my impetuous announcement, I have decided that perhaps a target of a book a day (plus review) is a little over-ambitious. I have joined a photography class, and I have also started the process of cleaning my room and arranging my books by author (both of which are no small tasks, I assure you. I am making an inventory of my books so as to be able to keep a miserly track of them. I have only reached number 117, and I was nowhere near done before I gave up in despair.) So should I be unable to finish a book in a day, I will still post - it will just be an ongoing process - a continuous reflection while reading. Sort of like a book journal.

I was going to (finally) read The Great Gatsby first, my curiousity pricked by Baz Luhrmann (although I haven't seen the movie yet). But I felt an even more insistent pricking by a review of The Talisman Ring by Georgette Heyer in the Captive Reader blog I mentioned in my earlier post. I have never read Georgette Heyer before. I wasn't sure what to expect, but I was absolutely delighted. I am still only about halfway through (didn't get much time today, sadly). But I have already laughed out loud several times. 

After the death of Lord Sylvester (bear with me, I am not good with the nobility, so I shall be conveniently vague on details), Eustacie (half-french) is engaged to Lord Tristram (a nephew, I think) by Lord Sylvester's last wishes. The actual heir, Ludovic, fled the country after being involved in gambling and (allegedly) a murder involving the possession of a priced heirloom - the talisman ring. Nearly everybody is convinced of his guilt, and Tristram helps him flee. Eustacie, however, considers him the only 'romantic' figure in her family. Very soon, Eustacie and Tristram realize that they do not suit each other at all, and Eustacie decides to run away and become a governess. She unexpectedly stumbles upon Ludovic, who is now a smuggler, and becomes almost instantly convinced of his innocence. She is unable to go through with her plans, and goes with Ludovic to an inn (after a thrilling chase in which Ludovic is shot in the shoulder). There, the ruckus attracts the attention of one miss Sarah Thane, who has stopped, with her brother Hugh, at the inn for the night. Sarah becomes instantly and inextricably involved in the 'adventure.' Tristram arrives at the inn the next day, demanding to know if Eustacie is there. He finds her and Ludovic (after they manage to fob off a policeman who comes looking for Ludovic), and not finding the ring in his possession, also becomes convinced of his innocence. That is as far as I have got.

I love Tristram and I adore Eustacie. As for Sarah Thane, I think it is marvelous how she is 'romantic' enough to suit Eustacie and 'sensible' enough to talk to Tristram. This sentence, said to Eustacie, I found absolutely priceless:
"At all events there seems to be some doubt about Sir Tristram's guilt. I think, if I were you, I would not marry him until we can be positive he is the murderer."
Taken out of context, how that sounds! But that is only one of many gems. The minute Eustacie opens her mouth, you can be sure you'll laugh. Tristram's reactions are almost more priceless (if something can be 'more priceless').

'Eustacie drew a deep breath. "I see that I have misjudged you, Cousin Tristram," she said handsomely. "One must make reparation, enfin. I will marry you."

"Thank you," said Sir Tristram, "but the matter does not call for such a sacrifice as that, I assure you." 

He saw a certain raptness steal into her eyes, and added: "Don't waste time picturing yourself in the role of a martyred bride, I beg of you! I haven't the smallest desire to marry you." '

So far, I have enjoyed every sentence. And finding a romance novel that is not utterly predictable and capable of humour apart from the usual, cliched, 'romantic banter,' is very refreshing. I look forward to reading the rest of the book, and more books by Heyer as well.