This was well-intentioned to the point of being twee, despite trying to make some quite serious points about life choices and misogyny. The pacing was a little strange (why were they lost on a hill for so long?), and I'm not entirely sure that councils work the way they're portrayed here, but the plant lore was certainly thoroughly researched.
58%
This obeyed the creative writing rules of conflict, pacing, engaging all senses and heaping misfortune on the protagonist, and was therefore an absorbing read. It was rather heavy handed on how bad life was for everyone - rich and poor - in 18th-century Paris, and, of course, especially for women. The characters were also a little vaguely drawn, being defined by one or two significant USPs, but it was an unusual take on an interesting period.
03.11.22
Heyer's stories are always a product of her time. By modern standards, this 'hero' is really not the sort of guy you'd ever want to meet, let alone marry, even if he is described as kinda hot. It's uncomfortable to buy into the feisty-yet-virtuous heroine eventually submitting to his overbearing persuasions. There's also the author's patronising treatment of anyone who doesn't happen to be of the nobility. That said, Heyer's stories are also always crammed with more vivid characters and relatable humour than most modern novels, with plots that roll out and resolve satisfactorily. And that balance of great and dodgy is what keeps her endless supply of Regency romances interesting.
14.06.22
I had breakfast with Chris Brookmyre once, at an editing conference. We had a very interesting conversation and then he went on to give the sweariest keynote speech ever, which, probably to his surprise, the editors loved. This book is neither as interesting nor as sweary, unfortunately - competent enough but with some unlikely coincidences and confusing plot points.
And points are lost, as ever, for the pandemic epilogue. Come on, authors/publishers! We've just had 400 pages of suspending our disbelief so you really don't need to shoehorn in some awkward references to lockdown at the end.
