Random Jottings

Anne Bronte - Tenant of Wildfell Hall

After my re-read of Jane Eyre and watching two tv/film adaptations of same I decided to have another perusal of the Tenant of Wildfell Hall. I also found that the 1996 adaptation was available on Amazon Prime so I gave that another go and enjoyed it just as much the first time around.  It would be good to have a more up to date version though I dread to think how it would be handled now to be honest.

So a bit of a Bronte month BUT I hasten to add, there will be no going back to Wuthering Heights which I freely confess I loathe.  Why anybody should view Heathcliff as a hero is totally beyond me. I blame the old Olivier/Merle Oberon film of years ago with Laurence O looking all Byronic and glam when in reality Heathclifee was, in my opinion anyway,  a pyschopath. The entire book is full of people with the most god awful characters without one redeeming feature amongst them.   I have always found Emily to be a bit of a pain. Charlotte seemed to hold her in great admiration (or was it fear? would not be surprised).

I sometimes want to shake for her so called bravery when dying when I think she was being plain selfish and an exhibitionist.  Others may weep at the thought of this strong woman staggering around the rooms clutching the furniture and refusing to see a doctor, thus ensuring the maximum amount of suffering for those who had to witness it all. Then the final collapse on the sofa and Charlotte rushing in with a piece of gorse from her beloved moors so she could smell it before she died.  Yes and call me cynical if you like, I don't mind.

The Tenant of Wildfell Hall, is the story of an abusive marriage to a drunken husband and Anne used Branwell's behaviour and appalling end as her model for Arthur Huntingdon.  Her family were not happy with the book and did not want it published but Anne stuck to her guns and Tenant was issued.   Critics have said it is clumsy and uneven but I disagree.  I know that the first and last sections are in the first person of Gilbert, a young farmer who persists in his
attentions to Helen Huntingdown when she moves to Wildfell Hall with her young son and refuses to be rejected until she hands him her diary to explain her situation.  The majority of the novel is then Helen's narrative and it does come as a bit of a bump when we jump back to Gilbert towards the denouement. However, I think it is a wonderful book and the more I have read it the more I have appreciated it and I now have a huge admiration for Anne. 

After Anne’s death Charlotte tried to stop Tenant of Wildfell Hall being republished as she disapproved of the subject matter.  A bit rich from somebody who wrote about a heroine who fell in love with a man who had a mad wife in the attic.

As the years have gone by and I have re-read both Jane Eyre and The Tenant of Wildfell Hall many times, I have re-evaluated them both and I have come to the conclusion that Tenant is the greater book.  I sometimes wonder if Charlotte maintained the “quiet Anne” the “meek Anne” idea because, deep down, she realised that her younger sister was perhaps the greatest writer of them all....

Jane Eyre - film and tv versions

I recently re-read Jane Eyre after some years and, once again, found myself totally engrossed with it.  I first read it when I was about eleven and enjoyed the first part, and cried at the death of Helen Burns, but could not really grasp the rest. I then tackled it again as a teenager and got further with it, but it was not until I read it in my twenties that I understood the wonderful moment when Jane claims equality with Rochester. Never fails to make my hair stand on end and, at the time it was published, ground breaking.

There have been many films and tv productions of the novel and, out of interest I decided to check out Amazon and see just how many there are.

First of all, there were three BBC versions.  One I have never seen is the first with Sinead Cusack as Jane and her Rochester a very young Michael Jayston.  I may get hold of this out of sheer curiousity.  I rather liked the Timothy Dalton, Zelah Clarke one which I remember very well and, of course, the latest one which I thought was wonderful, even if they did muck about with Charlotte's words, as I found Toby Stephens just right as Rochester and Ruth Wilson quite heartbreaking and vulnerable as Jane (I just watched this again this week and still think it is terrific though rather spoiled by the chocolate box ending).

Then various film versions (love the blonde one on the left!)  The Wells/Fontaine one had the impossibly beautiful young Elizabeth Taylor playing Helen Burns which is pretty mind boggling.  The John Hurt, Charlotte Gainsbourgh version was of monumental dullness with Hurt totally charisma free as Rochester.

Next up, George C Scott, totally over the top and a gormless Susannah York portrayal.  On the right, Samantha Morton looked the part but did not shine and her Rochester, Ciaran HInds, who I thought would have been excellent, seemed curiously lacking somehow.  This version, from ITV, also had Elle McPherson as Blanche Ingram.  Enough said I think.

Much though I love the Toby Stephens one I have to say that I think my favourite out of all of them is the one with Fassbender as Rochester and Mia Wasikowska as Jane. I think it is absolutely perfect and the final scene, though it ends very quickly, is wonderful.  The wordless joy of their reunion is spot on. And it has the bonus of Judi Dench as Mrs Fairfax.

Has anybody else got any favourites or comments on the above?

It is odd that as winter gets nearer I find I always want to sit down with a good Victorian novel. I can never work out why...                           

The King's Loot: The Greatest Royal Jewellery Heist in History - Richard Wallace

There is a line in Godfather III when Michael Corleone says "just when I think I am out they drag me back in".   I feel the same way about the Duke and Duchess of Windsor. Just when you think all that could be said has been said, another book arrives and this one landed on my door mat a week or so ago.

The King’s Loot was serialised in one of the tabloids.  It is always misleading to read the serialisation of a book in the newspapers. The paper in question will always focus on the more sensational aspects of the story which will catch the reader’s attention.

In the case of The Kings Loot, subtitled The Greatest Royal Jewellery Heist in History, the excerpts pre publication would lead us to believe that the narrative would centre on the robbery of the jewels of the Duchess of Windsor when she and the Duke were on a visit to England.  This particular robbery has always attracted attention and it was never solved, though one of the investigating officers was adamant that he knew who the thief was and never let up in his efforts to prove it.

The Duchess, for some reason unknown to anybody but herself, had not placed her astonishing collection in the safe of the house in which she and her husband were staying, but insisted on  keeping the trunk under her bed.   The theft took place and the surrounding furore and publicity was wide and damaging. Some pieces were found scattered over the local countryside leading the police to believe that it was an opportunistic crime and the thieves panicked and fled dropping some of the loot on the way.

The Duchess insisted it was an inside job and demanded that all the staff be grilled and investigated much to the annoyance of her hosts the Earl and Countess of Dudley. Wallis behaved with her usual lack of grace and, as always, had a tone deaf attitude regarding how she appeared. Her quote during this visit that "a fool would know that with tweeds or other daytime clothes one wears gold and with evening clothese one wears platinum" did not endear her to the public or engeder much sympathy for her loss.

The insurance was claimed and paid and yet for years it was generally felt that this was a scam on the Windsor’s part in order to obtain money which which they were permanently obsessed.

So purchasers of The King’s Loot would be forgiven for thinking that this would be an in depth discussion of the robbery and its background but, in fact, it merely is one small part of the narrative. The blurb adds to this impression and also emphasises the sale of the jewellery of the Duchess after her death. This sale took place in Geneva in 1987 and we are told that “the staid Swiss town is awash with limousines, journalists and minor European aristocracy. All the best hotels are bursting at the seams. Caviar truffles and foie gras are in short supply while champagne is flooding the market at ridiculously high prices”

 We are treated to the life story of the auctioneer ‘the debonair Nicholas Rayner’ how he suffers from nerves “but even he as he drew aside the curtains that Thursday morning in the pokey little room he occupied at the Hotel de la Paix (after releasing his sumptuous suite as a favour to an old client with deep pockets) and gazed at the majestic saw toothed snow capped Alps, must have realised that this was likely to be the most incredible event in the lives of a lot of people”

This overwrought and fanciful writing sets the tone of this book.   The actual ‘heist’ is buried in the middle of a repetitive narrative which merely retells the story of Edward and Mrs Simpson, the jewels he purchased for her (the author references Suzy Menzies excellent books on the Royal jewels extensively) and merely repeats what is in the public purview and has been for some time in other books and biographies of this couple as is clear from the bibliography. The books listed cover the lives of the Windsors and I appear to have read most of them.

This is history lite.  I am not a snob when it comes to history or biography but I did weary after a while of the author’ style:

“assured the collection (her luggage)  was safely installed in her suite upstairs Wallis collapsed into a chair in front of a blazing log fire and covered her face with her hands”

On the reading of the will of George V:

“A blazing fire in the salon at Sandringham had been stoked for the occasion. Edward was late. He strode confidently towards the others, past the grand piano and plethora of plotted plants. Everyone rose: the King kissed his mother, winked at Wigram”

This is pure fiction. How does the author know Wallis collapsed or that the King winked?   This hyperbole merely adds verisimilitude to an bald and unconvincing narrative.

I really dislike being negative about a book, I really do but my lack of patience while reading gradually increased the further I read. I checked the biography of Richard Wallace and it seems that he has been expelled or threatened with expulsion from most of the institutions he has been associated with. Almost thrown out of University, ejected from the House of Commons press gallery for reading a book during a particularly dull debate (I can sympathise with him here) and threatened with ejection from Wimbledon press seats.

It seems to me that Mr Wallace has written a book daring us to find it and him annoying.  I am sure he will be delighted to find that, as far as I am concerned, he has succeeded.

Cosy Random

I have done very little reading of pith and moment this summer. I find that I can sit and concentrate more in the autumn and winter. I remember at school thinking how foolish it was to have to sit exams in July when the weather was hot (well sometimes….)

Anyway, I am back from my cruise and then had a week in Suffolk which was lovely and now I am sitting here and feel that perhaps I ought to post else you will all feel I have vanished into the ether.

My topic today is ‘cosy crime’. Now, let’s face it, this is an oxymoron. Crime is nothing but cosy, it is disturbing and brutal and yet this genre has begun and flourished.   I gather that the supposed doyenne of cosy crime is Dame Agatha Christie and I am pretty sure she would not be happy to be so designated.   Of course, it is because of Miss Marple living in St Mary Mead and solving mysteries because the murderer reminds her of the fishmonger or the butcher who used to cut up their produce in an odd way, etc etc.

There is nothing cosy about Miss Marple, she is as sharp as a tack and can see right through deception and lies. One of my favourite Marple quotes is ‘it is very dangerous to believe what people say. I gave it up years ago’

OK so what cosy authors are there?

Richard Osman has latched onto this with his Thursday Club crime series where the murders are solved by a bunch of old codgers in a home.   I attempted to read the first one and half way through decided I had better things to do, like make a cup of tea or mow  the lawn, and I gave up. I thought it was poorly written, derivative and boring and we all know it got published because he is a ”Sleb”. Thousands will disagree with me and that is ok. Being made into a film now which I shall have to see because amongst the cast list is Pierce Brosnan who unfairly gets sexier as he gets older, and Helen Mirren who is my role model. Well I try.

So many books are now described as cosy crime that it is difficult to choose which to sample. I have tried a lot, binned half of them as the writing was execrable, but others I have thoroughly enjoyed.   So here are a few that I recommend but, of course, feel free to disagree.

T A Williams.  I bought one of his books for 99p on Kindle. It was classified as a light romance and set in Italy and I thought OK that sounds fun and it was. I read several others.  My initial thought was that his name was a nom de plume and no man could possibly show a woman’s thoughts and feelings during a love affair. Of course, I know this is sexist. There are male writers who pen for Mills & Boon but they use a female name as otherwise nobody would buy them.  So I had my doubts.    But then he started a brand new series featuring a retired Scotland Yard police inspector who settles in Tuscany with his labrador, Oscar, and sets up a detective agency.

When I queried on Twitter why he started this series his reply was along the lines of ‘well I started romancing them all and now I am killing them off’

They are witty and amusing and Oscar the dog is a star and the plotting is spot on. All in lovely settings with lovely food too. I have just finished the latest Murder in Portofino and thoroughly enjoyed it. Check him out on Amazon and do try them. They are listed as Armstrong and Oscar Cozy (with a z this time) mysteries.  Enormous fun.

Jane Bettany. I picked up a paperback (one of those 3 for £6 offers) along with another couple of titles because it was called Murder at the Book Festival. Could not resist that naturally, Violet Brewster, divorced and in her forties, has settle in a quiet village (NOT St Mary Mead but a close approximation) and before she knows it finds herself involved in murder which she manages to solve before the police. Natch.  

Again, well written and great fun.  She has also written others featuring Detective Isabel Blood, which I have on my Kindle but yet to read.

Fiona Veitch Smith.  Clara Vale has inherited a house plus a detective agency from her uncle after his death. Clara is an unsatisfactory daughter from her mother’s point of view who wishes to see her married and settled. Clara went to university and studied science, a terribly unladylike thing to do in the 1920’s the period in which this book is set and she is delighted at thie opportunity to leave her family and move to Newcastle and live an interesting, exciting and independent life.I did like these.   The three Clara Vane books are the Picture House  Murders, the Pantomime Murders and the Pyramid Murders. She also has another series featuring Poppy Denby and I have these listed to investigate.

Kate Hardy is a romance writer who has written over 100 books for Mills & Boon and has now turned her hand to mystery.   As she is still writing romantic novels and has the time to add another string to her bow, I am amazed at how she does it.

Her detective is Georgina Drake, another divorcee of mature years, who goes to live in a village (again NOT St Mary Mead). She lets out her barn as a holiday cottage and at the end of a tenancy goes to clean it up and finds the current holiday maker dead on the floor. There is a twist to these books which I am not going to give away and I found them quirky and interesting. I reviewed Kate’s first book The Body at Rookery Barn here. There are others and, once again, they are on my Kindle and I shall be reading them. So nice to have books waiting for one.

The next author on my list is Frances Lloyd.   Amazon, knowing my penchant for crime, offered me two box sets at £1.99 each of the Jack Dawes mysteries.   I bought one set, read the first story and immediately logged back on and bought the second set before they hoiked the price up.  I was very glad I did.

Now these stories are not quite cosy. Neither are they hard hitting or brutal or filled with violence so I am including them in this list as I think the story lines are good, well written and the characters are fun. Jack has a wife called Coriander (she is a chef and really with that name could she be anything else?) and is friends with the wife of the Chief Superintendent who tries to make Jack’s life difficult, as they all do in these kind of stories. She and her friends interfere and suss out clues etc but the main thrust of the story is with Jack and they are really good. An eleventh title came out earlier this year and I bought it straight away as I enjoyed them so much.

Come the colder weather and I may plunge into deeper, darker reading. Or perhaps not. As I get older I find I prefer reading books that make me feel happy and relaxed. I honestly find modern fiction not to my taste. Mark you, I never have it is not something that has come with age.

I think I mentioned in my last post that I have also been reading a shedload of Regency Romances by Mary Balogh and I am working my way through her entire ouevre. There are a lot and they are extremely well written, not frothy at all and I have so say that the sex scenes almost put me to the blush.

Almost….

Random Norway - I am back

I am back from the fjords and sitting here looking at the usual British grey skies and rain. I am sure that when we look back at our childhood we view it with nostalgia and, perhaps, false memories, but honestly I can remember so many sunshine days on the beach or in the country and all we have now is endless dreariness. So dispiriting. No wonder the beaches are heaving with humanity when the sun does deign to shine. We need to grab it when we can.

Well I must not complain as I have had the most wonderful week cruising down the Norwegian fjords.  I went on a Solo trip and freely admit that I was very nervous about it all but in the end I need not have worried.   I have travelled with this company before (albeit on the company that they took over after it went into administration) and, as with my trip to Australia, the ship, the service, the crew and everyone on board were friendly and helpful.   Ambassador Cruises look after the solo travellers and arrange meetings etc for them so everyone has a chance to make friends. I was on a table of ten in the dining room and after a couple of nights of getting to know each other were firm friends by the end of the voyage with lots of laughter and fun.

Oh the scenery. My goodness me.  Almost impossible to find words to describe the breathtaking beauty of the fjords. Sailing along with towering mountains on either side, cascading waterfalls and the colour and beauty of the lakes and oceans.

Every day when I awoke to this beauty I remembered the psalm which says “I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills from whence cometh my help”. It takes a lot to render me speechless, as many can testify, but the glory of the fjords managed it.

One of the trips out was to visit a glacier which, I gather, is in danger of vanishing completely within the next few years as it is slowly melting.   A coach drive and then we all got in ‘troll cars’ which were more or less golf carts and were whisked up hill round and round a winding road. I was slightly worried when I noticed that our driver was using one hand on the wheel and was lying back in his seat displaying a laid back insouciance but he had obviously done this hundreds of times before so no worries.

We then arrived as far as we could go and another walk of half a mile uphill was in front of us. I was a tad worried how my new hip would manage and was delighted to see that I had no problems.   My knee ached a bit though….

I felt a great sense of accomplishment when I made it. Coming down was a tad more wearing on the knee cap and I was glad to find that when we got back to the main area tea, coffee and cakes were awaiting us.

One of the best days though there were many, and when I checked and noted I had done 13,000 steps and walked five miles I felt even better.

I am going to insert photos into this post – I have made a couple of collages to fit in as many as possible – and you will see just how glorious it was.

I am now contemplating another solo cruise and have in mind one that goes round the British Isles, including the Shetlands, Scilly Isles and Guernsey.  As I have grown older the lure of hot sunshine and a golden beach, lovely though they are, holds less charm for me. Mountains and lakes and wild scenery are now my preferences.

Oh and as this is a book blog, I should say that I read a lot of books on my new paperwhite, all of which were light hearted and fun reads more attuned to my holiday spirit. Hardly a week for Tolstoy or Dostoevsky…..

Random Fjords

Here I sit in the lounge of the ship, Ambience, and having had my breakfast and totally unable to drink the awful instant coffee in the buffet restaurant, I now have a cappucino with an extra shot and all is good.  I am going on an outing later today, up a glacier no less, and am having a quiet morning.

I have nothing but good things to say about the staff and crew on board who are, without exception, friendly, polite,smiling and helpful no matter what time of the day it is. I had a problem with a vent in the air conditioning in my cabin last night which was making an awful noise and within ten minutes of reporting it an engineer turned up and fixed it. In the ten minutes reception called twice to say that he would be there soon. I also noted, presumably as I am a solo traveller, that when he arrived he was accompanied by a woman member of staff which I thought was sensible.

I had some doubts about solo travelling but these have now been put to rest.   Solo peeps are well looked after and I have found fellow solos and it is all most enjoyable. I will have no fears about doing it again and hearing tales from other solo traveller is a real eye opener.

So the fjords. First day of the trip was at sea and then berthing on the coast and it was quite dull to be honest. But then we turned into the fjords and oh my goodness the sheer beauty takes ones breath away.   Simply glorious.  

I am having difficulty in uploading photos, not sure the onboard wifi can deal with it so my apologies. I will rectify this on my return.

Random update - Wimbledon and holiday

As most of you already know I am incommunicado when Wimbledon is on and this year is no different. However, I have found this year’s tournament a bit of a washout, literally as well as figuratively, as the weather has been appalling and the roof on the main courts have been closed for a most of the time more or less turning it into an indoor tournament.

There have been few outstanding matches this year and none have captured my usual interest when I am glued to my chair and do not move. The most interesting one was when Djokovic got annoyed as he thought the crowd were booing him in his match against Holger Rune.  In fact, they were chanting Ruuuuune. A few days earlier Sue Barker had appeared on court to say farewell to Andy and the entire court chanted Suuuuuuuuue so it was all a bit silly.   Djokovic is incredibly thin skinned and because he has not had the unalloyed adoration given to Rog or Rafa it has got to him.   So he had a go at the crowd on live tv and it all got a bit pathetic.   Today he will be playing Musetti, a young Italian player and I am wondering what his reaction will be if they start chanting Muuuuuuuuusetti, which they will as he is charming and handsome with a lovely smile and, more importantly, he is not Novak.

I am dropping in to say that I am off on a cruise on Sunday. Of course when I booked it I had not worked out dates so I will be missing the men’s final but as I expect the aforementioned Novak to be in it, I am not too bothered.  BUT, and this is unexpected, England have for the first time in years got to the final of the Euros football competition and the entire country is expected to shut down while we all watch and hope.  I shall be in the North Sea by then but as I am on a British ship and a British cruise line, I am pretty sure that we will all be watching.

I am spending a week cruising down the Norwegian Fjords and very much looking forward to it. A trip I have wanted to do for a long time. I am going on my own which is a bit nerve wracking but I am sure i will be ok and the cruise line has special events etc for solo travellers.   I have already had a few jokes about finding a nice man on the trip which I did not find funny. Heaven forfend after two marriages that I should be looking for another or any kind of relationship.  I point out in response that men who are the same age as me tend to look for a woman twenty years or so younger.  I wonder why….

I have bought a new Kindle paper white as my previous one was pretty old and slowing down. It is lovely and light and smaller and less bulky that my five year old model and I have made sure it is loaded up with lots of reading before I go.

I have not been doing much reading recently because of the tennis etc and when I have read it has been lightweight and easy reading type books. Somebody on a Heyer group mentioned the Regency novels of Mary Balogh so I thought I would give them a try. Well written and with interesting characters but some of the sex scenes would make Georgette shudder! I will admit they are fun.

I am taking my ipad with me and keyboard and shall be posting while I am away so if you are interested in my journey then do drop in.

 

Random Summer

Oh the sun is shining and has been for a few days now and it is warm and oh thank goodness. We have had so much rain and cold that I honestly thought the summer would never arrive.

I have been busy so apologies again for my lack of posting. I did mention that my blogging would be much more sporadic these days but this is a bit too sporadic so here I go.

Well, first of all with the summer comes tennis and cricket and you all know how much I love both.   Last week I went to Queen's Tennis with Felicity AKA the Other Grandma. I had to miss last year as my hip was disintegrating but now I have my new one it is ALL GO. We had good seats and the weather was wonderful and the grass was green and everyone at Queens is so welcoming and friendly. I love it.

We struck gold as that day we were there as Jack Draper, the new British No Uno was playing Carlos Alcaraz. Jack had just won his maiden ATP title the previous week and everyone was so happy for him. Nobody expected him to beat the Wimbledon and Queens Champion but we hoped he would do well. So when he won the first set and the crowd leapt to their feet and yelled (needless to say I was yelling louder than anybody else) we all assumed that he would end up losing in 3 sets. OK so he won and everyone went potty and it was all absolutely wonderful.  Next day he was beaten by Tommy Paul, the eventual winner this year, who is more used to grass play than Alcaraz, but it was just great to be there.

I love people watching and Queens is a great place for this - there were so many lovely summer dresses and outfits on display all flowery and floats and so elegant. There was a lack of the Hooray Henry types there this year, I daresay they were all in the gin tent, just lots of good tennis fans having a good time.

BUT there is always one/two and this one/two was sitting in front of us. This couple came in, both in their fifties/sixties at a guess. The lady was smartly dressed but wearing a brown outfit of trousers and top that did nothing for her, with dyed red hair and very brown eyebrows. The husband had a droopy moustache and he just drooped all over. I know I am sounding dreadfully caustic by the way.

First match on court. The lady opened her make up bag and proceeded to accentuate eyebrows, put on eye shadow and lipstick, none of which was necessary as she already had a lot of powder etc already applied. She then put it all away and pulled out her phone and started scrolling. She did this throughout the entire match and not once did she look up. I am afraid that all of us in the row behind her got an attack of the giggles when we caught each other's eye.  End of the match they went out.

Fast forward to the Draper/Alcaraz match and, once again, when it started out came the make up bag and then the phone. Totally oblivious to the fact that everyone around her was shrieking and screaming. She glanced up now and then and after the first set they got up and left never to be seen again.

I say, as I say each year when I witness this kind of behaviour, WHY? I know how much those seats cost so why bother?

A lovely lovely day though.

Drove home the next day and, natch, as I was on the North Circular, traffic was tedious and slow and when I was nearly home and wanted to turn on the road to Colchester, I spotted that two of those awful car carriers were in front of me and going at about 10 mph so I decided to hop off and go cross country. Found a winding B road and off I went. Got a bit lost but I knew I would hit a signpost soon and it was a simply gorgeous day and I did not really care. Found a way in the end.

While I was away I was having my bedroom decorated and came back to pristine white celing and paintwork and simply gawjus turquoise walls.   Peeps blinked when they saw the colour I had chosen but it looks wonderful and so pleased with it. Before I went to London I spent two days clearing the room and on my return spent two days putting it right.

I am, therefore, doing nothing this week but lolling and watching tennis on the tv and reading Regency romances.  Somebody recommended Mary Balogh to me and I simply love them. Have already got through about ten and plenty more to go.

I am in no mood for serious reading right now..

I hope you are all well and enjoying sun too.

 

Queen Victoria and her Prime Ministers - Anne Somerset

in 1964 Elizabeth Longford  published a biography of Queen Victoria which was the first warts and all story of her life. Lady Longford, who was fairly well connected,  was granted access to materials that others had not been privy to and the book made fascinating reading. I still have my copy on my shelf. I was fascinated by QV who came across as a feisty, opiniated, humerous, bad tempered, irritable woman. In other words, human. All biographies up to then had been extremely reverential.  

Since then I have more or less read every book written about her - her servants, the food she ate, her relations with her family spread across Europe, her marriage (the more I read about Albert the less I like him), and now we have a book about her prime ministers throughout her long reign written by Anne Somerset.

Queen Elizabeth II had fifteen prime ministers during her reign. Queen Victoria had fourteen.

The weekly meetings between Queen Elizabeth were one on one and during her long reign very little information regarding these discussions were leaked.   There was the odd newspaper article surmising which one she liked least or best but most of this was speculation and we never knew the Queen’s thoughts on her individual ministers.   The late Queen kept a daily diary but whether this will ever see the light of day is doubtful.

On the other hand Queen Victoria wrote copious diary and journal entries and she certainly did not hold back on her opinions, likes and dislikes of her ministers. This book makes fascinating and hugely entertaining reading as well as giving detailed and enlightening political backgrounds to each government tenure.

Her first Prime Minister after  ascending the throne at the age of 18 was Melbourne, a dashing, handsome and sophisticated man with whom it is widely agreed she fell in love. One courtier felt their relationship had something sexual about it, but after years of being supressed and under the influence of her mother and Conroy, the Comptroller and rumoured lover of the Duchess,  at Kensington Palace who made her life a misery, I think it was more likely that she just developed what we would now call a crush on him.  He was charming and used to dealing with women and it was inevitable that she would become somewhat obsessed with him. They spent hours together each day. The author makes the point that for all Melbourne’s worldly success there was an emotional void in his life which Victoria filled completely.   Charles Greville commented “I have no doubt he is passionately fond of her as he might be of a daughter if he had one, and the more because he is a man with capacity for loving without having anything in the world to love”

Inevitably, after her marriage to Albert, Melbourne was not so important to her as hitherto and years later when she read her old journals and her entries regarding Lord M, as she called him, she annotated the pages with the comment “I cannot forbear remarking what an artificial happiness mine was then and what a blessing it is I now have in my beloved husband real and solid  happiness which no politics or worldly reverses can change”

After her marriage Prince Albert tried to make sure that the Crown was above politics and Victoria should not show her partisanship.  The Bedchamber Crisis in which Victoria refused to changer her ladies in waiting forced Robert Peel to give up the idea of forming a government and bringing Lord M back into power.   A blatant misuse of sovereignty and one which Albert wanted to ensure did not happen again.

Robert Peel was her next Prime Minister and after her initial dislike of him, the Queen and the Prince Consort became close friends and she appreciated him as a man of integrity.

What is fascinating about this book is the blatant disregard the Queen and, yes Albert too, gave to non interference as their opinions on what the government should or should not do were made very clear, much to the exasperation of the Cabinet.   Both of them loathed Lord Palmerston who as Foreign Minister totally ignored anything they said and blithely went his own way.  He sounds a complete loose cannon but at the same time a hugely entertaining character.

Gladstone she did not get on with at all and the Queen said that he “spoke to her as if addressing a public meeting”

Disraeli flattered and enchanted her calling her the Faery an affectionate nickname in keeping with his allusions  to a Midsummer Night’s Dream. It was affectionate and reverential “but simultaneously contained the merest hint of mockery”.   After all it was he who said that with Royalty flattery should be laid on with a trowel.    As a way of ensuring that the Queen supported him and agreed with his policies it was a masterstroke though some of his colleagues sometimes felt he went too far.

After Albert’s death Victoria, though engulfed in grief, did not neglect her royal duties though the public perception was that she was the Widow of Windsor and spent her days in seclusion and mourning. In fact, it has always been clear to me that once free of Albert’s controlling yoke and feeling inferior to his superior intellect, she blossomed.   Her grasp of policy and her thoughts and comments show that she understood more than was assumed and, as the years went by, her vast knowledge, as with Queen Elizabeth II, were of great help to her various government ministers.

She interfered, she badgered, she cajoled and at times members of the House of Commons and the Cabinet were infuriated by her and this is why I love her. Sounds as if at times she drove them mad.

One thing which I observed  while reading this admirable book is that nothing changes. A coalition government in 1852 had cracks in it from the start as Lord John Russell held the position of Foreign Secretary on the understanding that Lord Clarendon would take over “whenever Lord John ought to be relieved from it”.  However, Lord John had other ideas and he had believed that Aberdeen, the then Prime Minister, would step down and make way for him and went into a terminal sulk when he failed to do so.

Shades of Blair and Brown….

At the time of writing we are in the throes of campaigning for a General election and it is clear from reading the current newspapers and listening to debates and discussions from all parties, that nothing has changed. The ins and outs, rivalries, back biting and double dealing shown by all concerned during Victoria’s reign, are mirrored today.  

It is a truly dispiriting thought…..

Monday catch up and Latest Reads

OK it is currently tennis and cricket season and I have spent most of the last month glued to the tv. As the weather was incredibly cold and chilly this was no hardship. In between all this sport watching I have been reading rather a lot of romance, light fiction and 'cosy' mysteries. I have been pondering on the use of the word 'cosy' and will be posting my thoughts soon.

So yes I am here and apologies again for the lapse in time since my last post. As you know I have been contemplating packing it all in but though I now am much lower profile I still enjoy Random so I will be carrying on, albeit a little less regularly. As always I am heartened and grateful for all the lovely comments I receive assuring me that you wish me to carry on. It is much appreciated.

Right - onwards.

Three books I have really enjoyed in the last ten days.

Firstly, The Happiest Ever After by Milly Johnson. I do love her books.  She writes so well and with such conviction and her characters are real and likeable. In this case our heroine (am I allowed to say that these days or should it be hero?) is Polly Potter, living with Chris who strikes me as being boring and selfish, also unfaithful.   She has a job she loves but her thunder is being stolen by her boss.

Polly is in a car accident and finds that her memory of her previous life has vanished. She had been attending a writing course and was in the throes of writing a novel all about Sabrina. In her confusion she believes she is Sabrina and embarks on her new life.

Great fun and, as I said, well written and humourous and full of understanding.   I loved it. When I came across this author a couple of years ago I then went on a full on binge (as you do) and read all of her back list in three weeks. Then of course, I had to wait for the next book and then another wait for the next one. They are always worth waiting for.

Secondly, An Ideal Husband by Erica James. Another author I discovered a few years back and binged on and now await each title with eagerness.   Of course, the title is a give away as the husband in question is anything but ideal infoming his wife of 30 odd years, on Boxing Day of all days (presumably he balked at telling her on Christmas Day) that he did not love her any more and was leaving her for a younger woman.

Erica James always pulls you in to the dilemmas and actions of her characters and you feel for them. In this case I rather felt that the erring husband seemed to be treated with more understanding that he deserved. Yes, his wife and children are devestated  but in the end they forgive him and despite behaving in a totally cowardly way when he discovers his lover is pregnant and he cannot cope with it, all ends happily with him.   My feeling, much though I loved this book, was that he got away with an awful lot.   Throughout the entire book I was thinking how much I would love to have decked him one.

Close to Death - Anthony Horowitz.I have long been an admirer of Horowitz as he created the series Foyles War which I still think is one of the best tv series ever and the company who decided to end it needs their corporate heads examing.   As well as producing the Alex Rider children's books, plus James Bond and Sherlock Holmes stories, he has created a wonderful series in which he, Anthony, partners up with a former detective Daniel Hawthorne to solve murders and then produce a book about the same. It can be slightly confusing as the author is, as we know, a real life person and Hawthorne is not and the dynamic between the two is so real that the reader has to keep reminding themselves that though the narrative is in the first person and features Horowitz, it is not really happening.

But the books are just so good and so well written and this one had me pinned to my sofa for an afternoon (I even ignored the cricket). The story is set in Riverview Close, a quiet gated community in Richmond, London.   A new neighbour moves in. He is vulgar, noisy with badly behaved children and antagonises everyone in the Close.   Kenworthy, the neighbour in question, is found dead with a crossbow bolt through his neck.  Seems a bit extreme and it is difficult to pin the crime on one person when everybody in the close has the same motive. Intriguing and full of twists I was totally gripped and the ending took me totally by surprise.

As I write this I have one eye on the tv as tennis is on from Rome so after logging off it is back to the game.

I have already mentioned above how glad I am you are still here and, once again, my thanks for your companionship and kind thoughts.