Reading Rules, Part 1

I have particular rules regarding what I read: no biographies of anyone living, no self help books, no fiction which is a sequel to another book not by the same author (e.g. books which continue the stories of Jane Austen characters), mystery novels involving cats, and multi-generational fiction. If I read a novel and find that the ending is false or the plot badly paced, I am unlikely to try that author again; if Oprah recommends a book I am highly unlikely to read the book unless the author is grandfathered in: for example I was a big Chris Bohjalian fan and still am and just because Oprah picked Midwives (eventually) does not mean that I will not read read him again, but I will have to keep a cautious eye out.

One subject actually has two rules: the French Revolution. After years and years of reading on the subject, I am at a saturation point. There is very little, I feel, for me to learn about it and I must not be tempted to think something new and startling may come up in non fiction, though a book on the Duchesse d'Angouleme would be highly tempting. It is not only that the topic seems exhausted but that it is, in a word, depressing. Things got way out of hand pretty quickly (I am actually thinking of adding the Russian Revolution to this category, with the recent apparently definitive conclusion that now all of the Tsar's family's remains were discovered). For this reason, I try to avoid fiction with the FR as a backdrop. Invariably one of the main characters comes to a sad end and even though the reader suspects it is coming, it is still wrenching when it does.

The first novel I read about the French Revolution was The Devil on Horseback, by Victoria Holt. In it the heroine goes to France and meets up with the brooding count, who is married to an invalid wife. The wife dies under mysterious circumstances (as is often the case in Holt books) and it appears that happiness may be within reach. The Revolution breaks out and the count nearly goes to the guillotine, only to be daringly rescued. What I took away from the book at the time was that poverty and near death are not as bad as being separated from one's true love. The peasants or regular citizens were never really scary or that disgruntled.

The other novel on the topic which I retain fond memories of is The Frenchwoman, by Janet Mackin. In it the narrator is an assistant to Rose Bertin, dressmaker to Marie Antoinette. The Queen takes a liking to the narrator and entrusts her with a huge diamond, to be kept safe in the event of an emergency. When the Revolution occurs the narrator emigrates to America, where a colony of the French expect Marie Antoinette to arrive at any point and build a home for her. They are doomed to disappointment, of course, and the narrator feels the burden of holding this treasure, especially when it is learned that the Dauphin is died or is mad or any of a hundred other stories.

Recently I gingerly started reading a book which edged perilously close to some of my literary boundaries, called Annette Vallon, by James Tipton. It is from the viewpoint of the title character, who is raised in a well to do family on the Loire. By the first anniversary of the fall of the Bastille, things are not so bad (yet). The major upheaval which occurs is the arrival of William Wordsworth, from England. Yes, that William Wordsworth. He and Annette fall in love, her family does not approve (with some justification- he has no visible means of support and is foreign- not a good combination) and he must rush off to Paris to go watch the proceedings. Personally, I would rethink my involvement with someone who was running around, jobless, interested only in going to see what violent thing was going to happen next just so he could write a poem about it.

After Annette discovers she is pregnant, not a whole lot changes except that she keeps her condition a secret from her mother by staying with her sister. Wordsworth is hither and yon. After seeing the baby once, he does not meet Annette again for nine years. In that time she has become a counter-revolutionary, hiding people from the governments, saving them from executions, aided by a mysterious local marquis. Wordsworth meets up with Coleridge, writes, explains why he cannot travel. Once his sister Dorothy, reenters his life, the reader knows it is all over but the shouting for Annette and one can only wait with dread for the inevitable scene. There is a visit later where Wordsworth, his sister and wife visit France, which is had trouble reading with any credulity. I do not think many women-either former mistress or wife- would want to meet the other, especially in the early 19th century. I would not even want to do it in this day in age, if I were in that position.

One disclaimer I must make is that I never really "got" Wordsworth, or, for that matter Longfellow or Whitman. In fact, I confuse them with each other. Give me Keats, Shelley, Byron or even Tennyson. So when Wordsworth is giving her lines of poetry or even discussing Girondist ideals, I had a hard time keeping my interest. Even after reading the book and doing research about the real life people, the parts about and by Wordsworth nearly did me in.

The thing which I find troubling about the book is that there is historical evidence that Annette Vallon did exist and have a child with Wordsworth named Caroline. But as for her counter-revolutionary exploits, who knows? I am very uncomfortable when authors --no matter what the intention- put words in the mouths of real people and actions to their credit or discredit when there is no evidence for it. So here is another category to avoid- fiction based on real people.

Generally the book --as a novel-is enjoyable. No one major is sacrificed to the Revolution, there is not excessive discussion of who was worse, Danton or St. Juste. The characters are interesting if a little one dimensional at times. Revelations come out of nowhere and don't seem to really be anything but filler. The title character ends up with good friends and family, and really, there are many fates worse than that.