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Daisy Goodwin is a fair enough writer, but her characters are rather frustrating. That, for me, is the hardest part of this book to accept: I just cannot relate to these hoity toity characters.
I think Cora was supposed to come off as the society darling trying to break from her shell, but all I could think about was how terribly snobby she was (we won't even talk about her mother, who just really grinds my gears).
Trot in Ivo. It's as if Goodwin tried to blend Mr. Rochester with Erik from "The Phantom of the Opera." Ivo is moody, mysterious, self-righteous and far too hot-headed for my taste. (Spoiler point: Why not just tell Cora the truth about his relations with Charlotte from the start?)
I could go on about other characters, but it will all boil down to one point: high society just isn't my cup of tea. Everybody's secretive, overly polite nature all for the likes of popularity just baffles me.
The story line is heavily embedded in Cora's desire to rise up as the cream of the crop, and since she apparently does just that upon marrying Ivo, the remainder of the book leaves little to be desired.

Yes, within 15 pages, we have girls kissing, less than halfway through the book, an artist references what will become known in the 21st century as the progenitor of all uncomfortable anime-based bestiality fantasies (God, the things I learned as an art history minor), and...ok, well Constable Odo from Deep Space 9 isn't actually in this book, but there IS a character named "Odo" and this was all I could imagine.
Beyond all that, this book just wasn't what it was supposed to be. I got the sense that it was trying to be some sort of mix of Dangerous Liaisons and Upstairs Downstairs, but it got caught in this middle ground between romance and historical fiction, which makes it not romancy enough enough for the romancers and waaaaaaaaaay too fluffy and shallow for anyone interested in actual historical fiction. And never mind the fact that nothing, not one single thing, happens during the course of this entire book. NOTHING.
Oh, and I know this is snobby of me to say, but nothing makes me more annoyed than when I read little pieces of meaningless fluff like this and then there's "discussion questions" in the back of the book, like it's freaking Kurt Vonnegut's Slaughterhouse Five or something. There is nothing in this book that requires thought or interpretation. Stop pretending like there is. ARRGH.