Rushed to the Altar (part the first)

Rushed to the Altar (Jane Feather, Pocket Books Romance)

There’s so much going (wr)on(g) with this one that the only way I can do this is to go chronologically, thematically... whatever. And so, before you even look at the back cover, we have a critic quote:

“Dynamic.” (-Booklist)

That’s the best thing anyone could think to say about this book, and they were right. Even worse, below the title is the subscript “First time in print!” Dear reader, have you thought about what that means? Probably it was webfic first. Which isn’t to say that all webfic is bad… but it’s usually pretty terrible. This book is not the exception to prove that rule.

Dear Rushed,

There are a number of things we need to discuss here. Let’s proceed in an orderly fashion.

(I) Setting

(A) Speech patterns

You seem to think that your setting is London, 1761. Not a bad time. Unfortunately, you also seem to have multiple personalities. The less egregious of these is somewhere closer to the London of 1820. The other is in Texas.

“Well, now you’re all here, let’s get on with it.” He drew the rosary up to his chest. “Tell ‘em, Alton.”” *

Rushed, I am willing to forgive let’s. I might even be able to forgive you’re. But I cannot in any conscience forgive ‘em. Never mind the sentence structure—which is far cruder than a viscount whose filthy rich family could presumably afford tutors for their sons ought to be using—have you even heard of the belles lettres? Elocution? These things were important! Ah, I hear you say, the point is that he’s crude. Yes, well, we got that. You don’t need to make him sound like a rancher to boot.

Further, I only heard you mention Clarissa putting on a fake accent as part of a disguise once, despite the fact that she’s running a fake identity for most of the book. A fake identity from a completely different social class, which anyone with two neurons to rub together would know hadn’t had the education needed to speak like an intelligible socialite. Should have been Tip #1 for dear Jasper.

And then there’s “love nest.” Not just once, no, sometimes multiple instances in a conversation. I just… there’s… No, I can’t.

(* Shelly, I’m really sorry to see that name appear in this context too.)

(B) Fashion

I haven’t noticed any particular faults with the men’s fashions… but the women’s. This isn’t Austen’s England, Rushed. From Wikipedia:

Fashion in the period 1750–1795 in European and European-influenced countries reached heights of fantasy and abundant ornamentation, especially among the aristocracy of France, before a long-simmering movement toward simplicity and democratization of dress under the influence of Jean-Jacques Rousseau and the American Revolution led to an entirely new mode and the triumph of British tailoring following the French Revolution.

1750-1795 includes 1761, just to make sure we’re clear, and fantasy, of course, includes panniers, stays, and lots of silk and lace. Which are never mentioned, even though a good third of the pages involve dresses either being made or dressed up in. You’d think something that painful, time-consuming, and difficult to move in might get acknowledged when heaven knows everything else has. Au contraire, your outfit descriptions seem to consist of a chemise, a gown (as often as not muslin), and outerwear, which sounds a lot more like Rousseau and Empire waists than Heights of Fantasy.

(C) England itself

I’m not sure you noticed, Rushed, seeing how preoccupied you are with everyone brooding and lying to each other, but Sullivan is an Irish name. This man is supposed to be old blue blood from Northumberland? Let’s have a map:

This is current-day Northumberland, which is close enough to the historical borders for this point:

This is Ireland:

THAT’S NOT EVEN THE SAME ISLAND! Oh, and I know how you’d like to defend yourself, maybe they were immigrants! Sorry, not immigrants who became English peers! No, that wasn’t very politically correct of me, but this was supposed to be the reign of King George IV, and really, everyone was pretty well established by then. Ish.

Rushed, if your second defense is that you liked the name, fail.

Plus, the estate name. Blackwater. Come on. At least do a rudimentary amount of etymology research and make up something that sounds like the words were smacked together five centuries ago, not five minutes.

Side note: Jasper’s twin brothers are blonde, which was statistically more common in East Anglia. (Danish invasions, Vikings, you know how it goes). And then there’s “He was as dark as his brothers were fair.” Well. Here’s to hoping that Lady Sullivan didn’t get up to anything.

And Clarissa seems to have red hair and jade eyes. I'm not sure I can even touch that. Certainly not the jade thing, but I will say that for the most part, people really thought that red hair meant you had an unstable temper and it was counted as an aesthetic fault. But of course she's beautiful.

(D) La Politesse

Oh, 我的妈 this is what’s been really bugging me. When it was just Jasper calling Clarissa “Mistress Clarissa,” I was going to look away and let it slide. Maybe, Rushed, you thought it was a hooker thing. But no, it didn’t stop there. We have an earl calling a lady to whom he is absolutely no relation simply “Meg,” and the daughters of Lady Morecombe being introduced as Lady Eleanor and Lady Emily rather than the Misses Morecombe and their mother addressed with her given name. Really? And consistently: Master Sullivan, Earl of Blackwater, who isn’t a child; Master Danforth, a lawyer; old Luke, never Mister Astley or “our Uncle Astley;” nor ever a mention of Miss Astley, the squire’s daughter. No, just Mistress Clarissa. These fine people will back me up if you want to fight it. That reminds me…

(E) The Family Business

Rushed, I’m seeing a bit of a disconnect. First we have off the back cover:

“The orphaned daughter of a prosperous merchant, she is searching…”

Fine. But then…

“There’s the squire’s family in Shipbourne—Artley? Ashby? Something like that.” “Astley, that’s it.”

Oh dear, Rushed. What’s this? Back to Wikipedia...

Squires were gentlemen with a coat of arms and were often related to peers. Many could claim descent from knights and had been settled in their inherited estates for hundreds of years. The squire usually lived at the village manor house and owned an estate comprising the village, with the villagers being his tenants. If the squire "owned the living" (i.e. -- "was patron") of the parish church—and he often did—he would choose the rector, a role often filled by the middle son of the squire. Some squires also became the local rector themselves and were known as squarsons—a portmanteau of the words squire and parson. The squire would also have performed a number of important local duties, in particular that of justice of the peace or Member of Parliament.

Rushed, that doesn’t sound like a prosperous merchant at all. That sounds like a gentleman whose full-time job was land-owning. Please to be clearing this up.

(ii) Characters

Rushed, I have some problems with your main characters acting like morons. Without going into details...

Clarissa, if she is such a practical, sensible, intelligent girl as you seem to be trying to imply, ought to try to do better at not attracting suspicion to her disguise, keeping her eye on the main goal, and working towards it in a way that doesn’t include haring off like an idiot at the worst possible time. And I am entirely sure that she could have come up with a plan that wouldn’t preclude all possibility for her marriage or personal livelihood once it succeeded, if she’d ever bothered to really think.

Jasper, if he cares so much that his brothers regard him so highly, might think twice about lying to them, instead of just them finding out about it. So basically he’s a jackass.

Luke’s only motivations seem to be a gambling addiction, so debt, and pure evil. I remain unconvinced. How much is the estate of a country squire really worth, anyway? Who would you sell it to? That shit's a town. Come on, man.

Jasper’s uncle the viscount seems to be a B-list version of Casanova. His motivations also feel like they come down to jackassery. Maybe it runs in the family.

Actually, there aren’t any other characters who get enough screen time to be discussed. Sad day, Rushed. Sad day.

(iii) Third-Person Omnicient Narration

“‘What do you mean, news?’ Luke, his story well prepared, looked astonished. ‘Is she not here?’”

Oh, Rushed. Did you think I wouldn’t be able to tell when the villain started lying through his teeth? And he had to prepare his story? What kind of heartless bastard with a gambling problem can’t make up a decent lie on the spot? Plus your little bit of description there made that mess three sentences, which really breaks up the flow. But we’ll leave style alone for now.

~Kate

Honestly I haven't even finished this book yet. But maybe we'll just leave this as is.