And Only to Deceive by Tasha Alexander
Sep. 9th, 2008 05:56 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
meganbmooreMay I first take a moment to address a point of irritation? The book is set in 1887, and the lead recommendation quotation (whatever they’re called…long day…when authors rec other authors) is from Martha O’Connor, and reads “Had Jane Austen written The Da Vinci Code, she may well have come up with this elegant novel.” Now, I haven’t read The Da Vinci Code. Too many people I trust have told me I wouldn’t care for it, and it doesn’t sounds incredibly interesting to me anyway. (Movie trailers bored me, but that’s nothing to judge the book by.) That said, Jane Austen? Martha O’Connor, I’m sure you are a lovely person and a good writer but go back to your history class. Seriously. When will the world stop comparing every book set in or around England between 1750-1900 to Jane Austen? *tears out hair*
But back to the point.
When Emily agreed to the marriage proposal of Philip, Viscount Ashton, she didn’t do it for love, money, or his title. She did it to escape her overbearing mother. Inoffensive and an avid hunter, Emily thought Philip would be a decent but dull husband who would be too busy hunting in the country and in Africa to trouble her. But Philip died on a Safari soon after their wedding, leaving Emily a widow. For the first year and a half of her widowhood, Emily’s chief concern was the uncomfortableness she felt around Philip’s friends and family, who truly grieved him, making her feel like an intruder. Later, however, she learns through Philip’s friend, Colin Hargreaves that Philip, in addition to being a great lover of Homer and Greek antiquities, Philip was madly in love with her, calling her the Helen to his Paris, and giving her the private nickname of Kallista.
Reading the papers given to her by Hargreaves, Emily comes to know and love her husband through his writings, which recount his version of their courtship, and through him, to develop her own love for the Greeks, both the writings and the antiquities. Eventually, however, she begins to uncover information indicating that Philip may have been involved in forging antiquities, and may have left a number of illegal artifacts to her. There are all sorts of interesting things here. There is, obviously, the aspect of The Iliad, of all things, making Emily fall for Philip, as well as Emily befriending Parisian artists and, through them, developing very liberal ideas and starting to develop suffragette sensibilities. There’s also a look into England’s interest in Greece and antiquities, as well as an exploration into forgeries.
Technically, the book is extremely good and well told, but there was something bugging me and holding me back from getting involved, and it took me a while (almost half the book) to realize what it was. Once I realized it, I started reading the book a bit differently.
You see, I don’t have a romantic image of Paris and Helen. Now, I have no idea how their relationship was viewed in 1887, but my view of their relationship is that Paris, while probably not evil, was fairly shallow and never loved Helen beyond her beauty, and only ever wanted to possess her. Helen, for her part, is a victim, ordered by her gods to leave her husband, family, kingdom and life because she was declared the prize in a bet.
Once I realized that the comparisons to Philip’s great love for Emily to Paris’s love for Helen were influencing me, I realized that I was viewing it the same way. Philip doesn’t seem to love Emily so much as he loves an idea of her. He refers to her in his writings and to his friends as Kallista, and writes of her as the epitome of grace and beauty, interpreting her every word and move as some perfection of womanly beauty. Her boredom is shyness, her disinterest grace, her nervousness at a wedding night with someone she doesn’t know is maidenly modesty. In Philip’s mind, Emily is the ideal woman. The emphasis, however, is on “ideal,” not “woman.” The image of Emily in Philip’s head is a perfect being on a pedestal, not Emily herself. Emily, for her part, seems to fall more in love with Philip’s interests-the world he opens to her-and with the idea of being loved that much, not with Philip himself.
The problem is that I’m not sure how much my reading matches up with the intention of the text. Near the end of the book, there are indications that Emily realizes that she would, in time, have grown tired of Philip’s version of her, evidenced in part by her frustration over how he only ever talks about Achilles, never Hector, who she sympathizes with. The text never, though, addresses Philip’s love for Emily in that context, just Emily’s love, and eventual independence from and of it.
At one point, Emily believes that Philip may be alive. Had this been the case, and the book ended with their reunion, I would have left it dissatisfied. As it is, however, we’re left with Emily having experienced a posthumous “great love,” and having drive and ambition in her life, not to mention interests of her own, as opposed to those dictated by her mother. She’s also almost ready to embark on a courtship with Hargreaves, who knows the real Emily and watched her grow from the listless, bored woman with no ambition into an independent thinker out to claim her own life. I’m interested to see how future books address the subject of Philip, and Emily’s feelings for him.
But back to the point.
When Emily agreed to the marriage proposal of Philip, Viscount Ashton, she didn’t do it for love, money, or his title. She did it to escape her overbearing mother. Inoffensive and an avid hunter, Emily thought Philip would be a decent but dull husband who would be too busy hunting in the country and in Africa to trouble her. But Philip died on a Safari soon after their wedding, leaving Emily a widow. For the first year and a half of her widowhood, Emily’s chief concern was the uncomfortableness she felt around Philip’s friends and family, who truly grieved him, making her feel like an intruder. Later, however, she learns through Philip’s friend, Colin Hargreaves that Philip, in addition to being a great lover of Homer and Greek antiquities, Philip was madly in love with her, calling her the Helen to his Paris, and giving her the private nickname of Kallista.
Reading the papers given to her by Hargreaves, Emily comes to know and love her husband through his writings, which recount his version of their courtship, and through him, to develop her own love for the Greeks, both the writings and the antiquities. Eventually, however, she begins to uncover information indicating that Philip may have been involved in forging antiquities, and may have left a number of illegal artifacts to her. There are all sorts of interesting things here. There is, obviously, the aspect of The Iliad, of all things, making Emily fall for Philip, as well as Emily befriending Parisian artists and, through them, developing very liberal ideas and starting to develop suffragette sensibilities. There’s also a look into England’s interest in Greece and antiquities, as well as an exploration into forgeries.
Technically, the book is extremely good and well told, but there was something bugging me and holding me back from getting involved, and it took me a while (almost half the book) to realize what it was. Once I realized it, I started reading the book a bit differently.
You see, I don’t have a romantic image of Paris and Helen. Now, I have no idea how their relationship was viewed in 1887, but my view of their relationship is that Paris, while probably not evil, was fairly shallow and never loved Helen beyond her beauty, and only ever wanted to possess her. Helen, for her part, is a victim, ordered by her gods to leave her husband, family, kingdom and life because she was declared the prize in a bet.
Once I realized that the comparisons to Philip’s great love for Emily to Paris’s love for Helen were influencing me, I realized that I was viewing it the same way. Philip doesn’t seem to love Emily so much as he loves an idea of her. He refers to her in his writings and to his friends as Kallista, and writes of her as the epitome of grace and beauty, interpreting her every word and move as some perfection of womanly beauty. Her boredom is shyness, her disinterest grace, her nervousness at a wedding night with someone she doesn’t know is maidenly modesty. In Philip’s mind, Emily is the ideal woman. The emphasis, however, is on “ideal,” not “woman.” The image of Emily in Philip’s head is a perfect being on a pedestal, not Emily herself. Emily, for her part, seems to fall more in love with Philip’s interests-the world he opens to her-and with the idea of being loved that much, not with Philip himself.
The problem is that I’m not sure how much my reading matches up with the intention of the text. Near the end of the book, there are indications that Emily realizes that she would, in time, have grown tired of Philip’s version of her, evidenced in part by her frustration over how he only ever talks about Achilles, never Hector, who she sympathizes with. The text never, though, addresses Philip’s love for Emily in that context, just Emily’s love, and eventual independence from and of it.
At one point, Emily believes that Philip may be alive. Had this been the case, and the book ended with their reunion, I would have left it dissatisfied. As it is, however, we’re left with Emily having experienced a posthumous “great love,” and having drive and ambition in her life, not to mention interests of her own, as opposed to those dictated by her mother. She’s also almost ready to embark on a courtship with Hargreaves, who knows the real Emily and watched her grow from the listless, bored woman with no ambition into an independent thinker out to claim her own life. I’m interested to see how future books address the subject of Philip, and Emily’s feelings for him.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-09-10 02:17 am (UTC)Yeah, I don't think the Da Vinci Code comparison fits, either, but I haven't read it to be sure.
no subject
Date: 2008-09-10 02:39 am (UTC)Heroine: Oh, what a lark a day, I am pruning my garden.
Mailman: Here, the post, my lady--you have a suspiciously unmarked letter!
Heroine: Oh, why thank you dear--what is this? I have to make enquiries in France about an old friend-of-a-friend-of-a-friend-of-a-friend's acquaintance? and there is mysterious stuffs in this letter. HMM. I shall keep it safe.
FRANCE: HI, I'M FRANCE
Heroine: Oh my, France--let us spend the next few paragraphs shopping and gossipping.
French people: aha--'tis you, person somewhat acquainted in a ridiculously english fashion to someone who worked with our business! come to the scene where they were murdered.
Heroine: *gasp* Murdered?! How tragic.
SCENE OF THE CRIME: HI, I'M SCENE OF THE CRIME
French people: Ah, yes, miss. Welcome. Examine this stuff written in strange lettering on the floor.
Heroine: *wondering why the french police can't read english* Hmm. CODE. Fascinating.
French Hero-person...thing.: Hello, my fair lady. May I escort you for a stroll around the perimeter?
Heroine: Certainly, I should think not, for I am otherwise engaged with examining the dour circumstances of the death of this person I know by chance acquaintance. I think he was supposed to marry a cousin of mine. Or he did. *wink*
Hero-person: Haha, let us then be on our way to peruse the pretty french scenery--and, by doing so, get you safely away from the nearby conspirators who think that this man's death is somehow your fault, even though you weren't even in france or aware of this man's presence here to have precipitated it.
Heroine: My word!
Ridiculous chase scene: HI', I'M A RIDICULOUS CHASE SCENE.
Puzzles: HI, WE'RE PUZZLES.
Hero: Ouch, head hurts. He was my da, and well, I didn't quite understand his brain at times. Or how he always won at whit.
Heroine: Clearly, we are in danger because some secret organization that is only referenced vaguely through texts and off-shoots of aurthurian legends has some great conspiracy plot out to get us.
Hero: You are remarkably well-read for a lady, madmoiselle.
Heroine: On the contrary, I am well-read for a man.
Hero: Touche.
ANOTHER RIDICULOUS CHASE SCENE: I'm cooler than the first one!
MORE PUZZLES: I'm harder than the first few!
GEOGRAPHY: HEEEEEY.
Heroine: I think we've reached the climax of our journey, and thus a solution to the greatest puzzle of all.
Hero: What, why everyone wants to kill you?
Heroine: Hah! I am not in the least bit mystified by that quandrary, no--my dear frenchman, the question is why everyone seems so intent on pursuing me when you are with me.
Hero: Quoi?
Heroine: YOU ARE A DESCENDANT OF JESUS.
Hero: HUH?!
Heroine: Well, looks like my version of the good book is going to hell. How fascinating and philosophically schismatic!
SEPARATION: HI, I'M SEPARATING PEOPLE.
Heroine: I certainly can't be fraternizing with the descendant of Jesus, that would be improper of me to presume my presence worthy of you
Hero:...I pine. I pine lots. Pine, dear lady!!
Heroine: trees?
Hero: Evergreen.
MARRIAGE: YAY!
...and...yeah...