One dour household of the upperclass. Add unconventional niece who has everyone’s number. Let the fun begin!
This was a terrific book! It took a little to get into, because we first meet Lady Ombersley and her brother, Sir Horace, and both are caricatures of the proper lord and lady of their day. But once Sophia (pronounced Soh-fie-uh) arrives on the scene, the fun begins. Sophia, Sophy to her friends, is an amiable, kindhearted, irreverent female who would have made an excellent man, with how well she can handle the ribbons and being such a capital whip. Or to quote Heyer, “From being a female sunk below reproach Sophy became rapidly an unconventional girl whose unaffected manners were refreshing in an age of simpers and high flights” (and mothers given to nerves, spells and vapors.)
Sophy’s time on the Continent with her diplomat father has given her prolific insight into the human condition and the ways people work (it's all that hobnobbing with its aristocrats and power players). Blessedly, she uses that knowledge for the betterment of others rather than herself. She sees the good in people and does not take offense when they behave badly. Generous of spirit, she is someone easy to befriend and she is also more than a match for the Ombersley clan’s current overlord: its eldest son, Charles Rivenhall.
Charles isn’t a bad sort, just strong-willed and of strong character. Lord Ombersley is befuddled often by his brood and spends most of his time at White’s. This, combined with the shocking debts his inattention has wrought, has led Charles to be uptight and dictatorial, and until Sophy arrives, there has been no one able to stand up to him. When Cecilia relates her woeful tale of Charles opposing her alliance with an unemployed, aristocratic poet, Sophy can’t believe they have let Charles grow into such a tyrant. She would never permit Sir Horace (she only refers to her father as Papa when she is vexed) to “become so dictatorial, which is a thing the best of men will do, if the females of their families are so foolish as to encourage them!” Sophy is not at the house but a few hours before she deduces that everyone is miserable and sets to work setting things to rights.
One of the things I love about Sophy is how she never puts more weight on things than they’re due. The main trying of Sophy's felicitous manner is the odious Miss Wraxton, Charles’s bluestocking puss of a fiancée. Miss Wraxton is a proper miss, skilled at backhanded comments, but Sophy isn’t offended or hurt and constantly outwits the woman vastly responsible for everyone’s misery. This isn’t to say that Miss Wraxton is a villain; she’s not. She’s just a woman of oppressive social propriety who is mortified at the 'undignified' behavior of others and feels it is her Christian duty to save others from themselves. Sophy acts better than I would behave, if I had had to deal with Miss Wraxton‘s maneuverings. She's more than up to handling to nosy fusspot, with delicious results.
This clean read is resplendent. The audiobook narrated by Sarah Woodward hits just the right tone to make the clever turns of phrase and tongue-in-cheek narrator perfectly flippant in a way that only the best Regency period pieces do. I was lucky enough to live where my local library carries Woodward's version, since Audible only carries the abridged version narrated by Clare Wille. While Wille's version is good, Woodward give us the perfect hauteur of the ton, which makes things so much fun!
Warning: this was written in 1950 and the moneylender was characterized as the negative Jewish stereotype. It falls in line with attitudes prevalent in England at the time of the story and in the time the story was written, so I suggest giving it a cringe and a shrug and hurry through that part. Woodward's version of the audiobook brings the story into the aughts and seamlessly skips the references.
I thoroughly enjoyed the story and have reread more than once! 5 out of 5 stars.

No comments:
Post a Comment