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regshoeD. K. Broster's second book, again co-written with G. W. Taylor! After recognising so much of Flight of the Heron in her first book, Chantemerle, I was a bit surprised to find that this one has much less in common with it—in fact it's kind of an odd book in several ways.
The Vision Splendid (1913) takes place in the early 1830s, where the mildly fantastically-named Horatia Grenville, a Berkshire clergyman's daughter, falls suddenly and unexpectedly in love with the romantic but unreliable Frenchman Armand de la Roche-Guyon, whose family are staunch supporters of the recently dethroned and exiled Bourbon King Charles X. After overcoming opposition from both their families, they marry. Tristram Hungerford, a friend of Horatia who is mixed up in the incipient Oxford Movement and now contemplating ordination, is heartbroken, because he's been in unrequited love with Horatia for years. From here on, Tristram works through various theological tangles alongside his friend Charles Dormer and a number of historical Tractarians, while Horatia tries to adjust to her new life as a French noblewoman. Various complicated and dramatic things happen, the characters suffer a great deal, and eventually Tristram and Horatia come to see their lives and their relationship in entirely new lights.
[Another historical note: the Oxford Movement, or the Tractarians, were a movement within the Church of England that emerged at the University of Oxford in the 1830s. They argued that the Anglican Church was losing its way, should re-adopt various older traditions lost at the Reformation and, essentially, ought to be more Catholic. They opposed the Evangelicals, who were also enjoying some success at this time. It was all very entertaining. Read the Barsetshire novels for more information and church drama!]
It's a complicated plot, and fairly different from both Chantemerle and The Flight of the Heron. Apart from one significant but brief intrusion of violence, the plot depends on interpersonal and emotional drama rather than war or politics, and religion is a very important theme throughout. There are plenty of questions of right conduct as regards sin and one's duty to God, but not much in the way of notions of honour as it appears so memorably elsewhere in Broster's writings. And there's no central intense m/m relationship—there's a suggestion of that sort of thing with Tristram and Dormer, but it's never explored in great depth. I like all these things, so I was disappointed not to see them here.
As to what the book is about, then, I'm finding it difficult to summarise. I said in my review of Chantemerle that it felt impressively cohesive for a book by two authors, but I'm not sure I can say the same of this one. It's not so much that it goes in two distinct directions, but more just that there's an awful lot going on and it's difficult to get a sense of what the book is really trying to do. The religious themes dominate the plot—they pretty much take it over completely at the end—but I struggled to get much sense of what the overall religious message is supposed to be, beyond the fact that the authors think the Oxford Movement was a Good Thing. It didn't feel like much of a conclusion—even the epilogue felt disjointed and messy, bringing in far too many new plot threads rather than wrapping up loose ends from the rest of the book.
This probably wasn't helped by a few particular things early on in the book that looked likely to put me off. Horatia begins the book thinking that she'll never marry, and it becomes clear very quickly that this is going to change. The one thing I hate more than anything else in a book is that thing where a female character happily thinks she'll never marry, then ends up falling in love with and marrying a man and getting the approved heterosexual happy ending, because of course that's what happiness means really. Now, this book does not actually do that, and I don't really mind what it does do in the end, but I was worried for a little while that it might do something uncomfortably close. Then there were some worrying references to anti-enclosure riots—look, I know I've said I'll tolerate a lot of dodgy politics for a Broster novel, but asking me to sympathise with the perpetrators of the Enclosure Acts is going too far. Happily this thread is dropped soon after. And, finally, in a nice bit of continuity there's a brief reference to the main characters from Chantemerle, which reveals that a year or so after Louis's reunion with Lucienne at the end of that book, he goes back to France and is killed there, and she later marries someone else. This struck me as a distinctly odd way to treat one's own romantic happy ending, and kind of calls into question the decision to end Chantemerle there at all.
And The Vision Splendid, too, has a somewhat odd ending. I think it was the least satisfying avoidance of an endgame het pairing ever (an anti-The Crowded Street, as it were?). I kind of get what the authors were going for with the religion angle here, but it didn't feel satisfying on a character level, and I don't feel like the emotional arcs of the book got the closure they deserved.
I don't say I didn't enjoy this one, however! There is plenty to like about it—all the vivid description, beautiful wordy sentences and rich historical detail that I love about Broster's writing are here, and the way the main romantic relationships are written gave me a lot to think about in terms of how these authors approach writing about characters in general. (The significant pairing which goes south very badly later on is portrayed, in its early days, in a similar way to and actually with some of the very same details as Ewen/Alison, which was, hmm, interesting?). I enjoyed the portrayal of the Oxford and Berkshire settings in particular. Broster (and, I think, Taylor as well) lived in Oxford for many years, and she's clearly writing about places she knew well—the details of streets and colleges, the breeze up on the downs, the Uffington White Horse of Tiffany Aching fame even makes an appearance. But, overall, I still don't feel like I really got this book.
Next up in the read-through is D. K. Broster's first solo novel Sir Isumbras At the Ford, which I haven't been able to find in ebook form but should hopefully be able to get a physical copy of (along with The Wounded Name, which I certainly can't miss!). In the meantime I feel like returning to my next Barsetshire book...
The Vision Splendid (1913) takes place in the early 1830s, where the mildly fantastically-named Horatia Grenville, a Berkshire clergyman's daughter, falls suddenly and unexpectedly in love with the romantic but unreliable Frenchman Armand de la Roche-Guyon, whose family are staunch supporters of the recently dethroned and exiled Bourbon King Charles X. After overcoming opposition from both their families, they marry. Tristram Hungerford, a friend of Horatia who is mixed up in the incipient Oxford Movement and now contemplating ordination, is heartbroken, because he's been in unrequited love with Horatia for years. From here on, Tristram works through various theological tangles alongside his friend Charles Dormer and a number of historical Tractarians, while Horatia tries to adjust to her new life as a French noblewoman. Various complicated and dramatic things happen, the characters suffer a great deal, and eventually Tristram and Horatia come to see their lives and their relationship in entirely new lights.
[Another historical note: the Oxford Movement, or the Tractarians, were a movement within the Church of England that emerged at the University of Oxford in the 1830s. They argued that the Anglican Church was losing its way, should re-adopt various older traditions lost at the Reformation and, essentially, ought to be more Catholic. They opposed the Evangelicals, who were also enjoying some success at this time. It was all very entertaining. Read the Barsetshire novels for more information and church drama!]
It's a complicated plot, and fairly different from both Chantemerle and The Flight of the Heron. Apart from one significant but brief intrusion of violence, the plot depends on interpersonal and emotional drama rather than war or politics, and religion is a very important theme throughout. There are plenty of questions of right conduct as regards sin and one's duty to God, but not much in the way of notions of honour as it appears so memorably elsewhere in Broster's writings. And there's no central intense m/m relationship—there's a suggestion of that sort of thing with Tristram and Dormer, but it's never explored in great depth. I like all these things, so I was disappointed not to see them here.
As to what the book is about, then, I'm finding it difficult to summarise. I said in my review of Chantemerle that it felt impressively cohesive for a book by two authors, but I'm not sure I can say the same of this one. It's not so much that it goes in two distinct directions, but more just that there's an awful lot going on and it's difficult to get a sense of what the book is really trying to do. The religious themes dominate the plot—they pretty much take it over completely at the end—but I struggled to get much sense of what the overall religious message is supposed to be, beyond the fact that the authors think the Oxford Movement was a Good Thing. It didn't feel like much of a conclusion—even the epilogue felt disjointed and messy, bringing in far too many new plot threads rather than wrapping up loose ends from the rest of the book.
This probably wasn't helped by a few particular things early on in the book that looked likely to put me off. Horatia begins the book thinking that she'll never marry, and it becomes clear very quickly that this is going to change. The one thing I hate more than anything else in a book is that thing where a female character happily thinks she'll never marry, then ends up falling in love with and marrying a man and getting the approved heterosexual happy ending, because of course that's what happiness means really. Now, this book does not actually do that, and I don't really mind what it does do in the end, but I was worried for a little while that it might do something uncomfortably close. Then there were some worrying references to anti-enclosure riots—look, I know I've said I'll tolerate a lot of dodgy politics for a Broster novel, but asking me to sympathise with the perpetrators of the Enclosure Acts is going too far. Happily this thread is dropped soon after. And, finally, in a nice bit of continuity there's a brief reference to the main characters from Chantemerle, which reveals that a year or so after Louis's reunion with Lucienne at the end of that book, he goes back to France and is killed there, and she later marries someone else. This struck me as a distinctly odd way to treat one's own romantic happy ending, and kind of calls into question the decision to end Chantemerle there at all.
And The Vision Splendid, too, has a somewhat odd ending. I think it was the least satisfying avoidance of an endgame het pairing ever (an anti-The Crowded Street, as it were?). I kind of get what the authors were going for with the religion angle here, but it didn't feel satisfying on a character level, and I don't feel like the emotional arcs of the book got the closure they deserved.
I don't say I didn't enjoy this one, however! There is plenty to like about it—all the vivid description, beautiful wordy sentences and rich historical detail that I love about Broster's writing are here, and the way the main romantic relationships are written gave me a lot to think about in terms of how these authors approach writing about characters in general. (The significant pairing which goes south very badly later on is portrayed, in its early days, in a similar way to and actually with some of the very same details as Ewen/Alison, which was, hmm, interesting?). I enjoyed the portrayal of the Oxford and Berkshire settings in particular. Broster (and, I think, Taylor as well) lived in Oxford for many years, and she's clearly writing about places she knew well—the details of streets and colleges, the breeze up on the downs, the Uffington White Horse of Tiffany Aching fame even makes an appearance. But, overall, I still don't feel like I really got this book.
Next up in the read-through is D. K. Broster's first solo novel Sir Isumbras At the Ford, which I haven't been able to find in ebook form but should hopefully be able to get a physical copy of (along with The Wounded Name, which I certainly can't miss!). In the meantime I feel like returning to my next Barsetshire book...
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Date: May. 19th, 2020 06:22 pm (UTC)Oh gosh, same! It makes me so angry and annoyed and it's just so gross, not only because it's unfair to the characters, but also invalidating from a human point of view, I guess. Ughhhhhhhh. Even if the characters are likeable, there are sure other happy ways to end a novel! I've hated ever since "Little women", hahaha!
I'm eager to see what you think of "Sir Isumbras", it's a good, entertaining adventure story. And I saw several small similarities with FOTH! :) I haven't seen it in ebook format, but I did find "The wounded name" at Hathitrust. Apparently you can only download it if you have an account with a HT partner, but the whole thing is available to read online. It seems rather uncomfortable, but it's better than nothing.
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Date: May. 19th, 2020 07:15 pm (UTC)Oh gosh, same! It makes me so angry and annoyed and it's just so gross, not only because it's unfair to the characters, but also invalidating from a human point of view, I guess. Ughhhhhhhh. Even if the characters are likeable, there are sure other happy ways to end a novel! I've hated ever since "Little women", hahaha!
I know, right? By the way, no spoilers but if you've not read The Crowded Street by Winifred Holtby, I highly recommend it...
And thanks for the ebook link!
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Date: May. 19th, 2020 07:32 pm (UTC)I laughed out loud, because it is so true. *facepalm*
Like, in The Wounded Name, it's at least pretty easy to ignore that the characters are all fervent supporters of the Bourbon Restoration, because the whole plot is just a set-up for extravagant hurt-comfort and slash anyway...
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Date: May. 19th, 2020 10:39 pm (UTC)The ending is mildly upbeat, from what I remember, so that's something.
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Date: May. 20th, 2020 05:08 am (UTC)Another interesting political thing: being set partly in Paris in the early 1830s, the June 1832 rebellion that appears in Les Misérables is briefly mentioned. It's... not really a big deal, which was slightly surprising in comparison to how Victor Hugo treats it, but there's some interesting stuff about how the interests of ultra-royalists and republicans are aligned for a moment because they both hate the new Orleanist monarchy.
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Date: May. 20th, 2020 05:10 am (UTC)the book as a whole has stuck in my mind as an example of why it's a good thing Broster went on to write solo novels!
Haha, I did wonder if this one not working quite as well as Chantemerle might have been a reason for that...
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Date: May. 22nd, 2020 11:13 am (UTC)no subject
Date: May. 22nd, 2020 11:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: May. 22nd, 2020 04:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: May. 22nd, 2020 05:02 pm (UTC)