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annalisa4's review against another edition
adventurous
emotional
hopeful
inspiring
lighthearted
mysterious
sad
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? N/A
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? N/A
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
5.0
siria's review against another edition
lighthearted
2.75
Emily Fox-Seton is a 30-something spinster in Edwardian London, well-bred and impossibly good-natured but penniless. She ekes out a living as a kind of genteel fixer for upper-class women, who pay her a pittance or in cast-off clothes. Emily unexpectedly gets an invitation to a week-long country house party, and given the genre and the book title, I don't think it's a spoiler to say that by the end of it she's had her Cinderella glow-up. Frances Hodgson Burnett's writing is wildly sentimental and predictable, of course, but there are just enough veiled comments about the characters and how society treats women as disposable to stop this from being unbearably saccharine.
I did find it dryly amusing that one female character was desperate to get married because if she didn't, a dire fate awaited her: having to go live in Ireland. Gasp!
(I read an edition containing only the first book, The Making of a Marchioness, and not its sequel, The Methods of Lady Walderhurst. Judging by other reviews, that was probably a good choice; the sequel takes a turn into racist melodrama.)
I did find it dryly amusing that one female character was desperate to get married because if she didn't, a dire fate awaited her: having to go live in Ireland. Gasp!
(I read an edition containing only the first book, The Making of a Marchioness, and not its sequel, The Methods of Lady Walderhurst. Judging by other reviews, that was probably a good choice; the sequel takes a turn into racist melodrama.)
thevictorianace's review
dark
hopeful
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? It's complicated
- Flaws of characters a main focus? No
3.5
I loved Emily so much, but the extremely racist tropes and (tongue in cheek?) sexism made it difficult to finish.
laurabb's review
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
4.0
whatcha_listening_to's review against another edition
5.0
My first by this author but I so loved the story of Emily an unselfish woman who just wanted to give. She doesn’t see hate the way other do.
The love story part of the book will make you swoon the second part of the book feels a lot like greed to me.
But the ending was sweet.
I do love the accents and the narration was sweet.
The love story part of the book will make you swoon the second part of the book feels a lot like greed to me.
But the ending was sweet.
I do love the accents and the narration was sweet.
melindamoor's review against another edition
4.0
WARNING: This story was published in 1901 and the 2nd half (originally printed separately as [b:The Methods of Lady Walderhurst|2256122|The Methods Of Lady Walderhurst|Frances Hodgson Burnett|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1421010014l/2256122._SX50_.jpg|15704424]) contains elements of casual and matter-of-fact racism that was a product of its time but offends the modern reader.
********************************
I have been contemplating for some time the rating for this book. I was wavering between 3 and 4 stars, but in the end I decided on 4 because my enjoyment of the book actually far outweighs my original bewilderment about the curious way [a:Frances Hodgson Burnett|2041|Frances Hodgson Burnett|https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1197934848p2/2041.jpg] mixed her genres.
The plot is a crossover between a comedy of manners along the lines of a rags-to-riches story with a clear criticism of Victorian society and a Gothic novel (though with certainly less melodrama). However while the plot appeared shaky sometimes, the characterisation is excellent and succinct and that carries the day for me in any book.
The main character of the novel is Emily Fox-Seton, an impoverished lady of impeccable character, birth, manners and a universal goodwill towards mankind. She is a 34-year-old spinster, has hardly anything to live on, dwells in a boarding house (though thankfully with an incredibly kind landlady and her daughter) and tries to make ends meet by acting as a kind of secretary-cum-lady-in-waiting for rich, aristocratic ladies. She is kind and humble and happy in her own way (apart from the existential anxiety) and translates the high ladies' condescension and patronage as kindness towards herself. She also lacks the finesse and ruthlessness that drive many/most of her contemporaries and her "survival" under such social and pecuniary circumstances seems doubtful, to say the least.
One of her patronesses, the Lady Maria Bayne is a selfish, but wickedly witty and entertaining old lady.
"Lady Maria Bayne was the cleverest, sharpest-tongued, smartest old woman in London. She knew everybody and had done everything in her youth, a good many things not considered highly proper. A certain royal duke had been much pleased with her and people had said some very nasty things about it. But this had not hurt Lady Maria. She knew how to say nasty things herself, and as she said them wittily they were usually listened to and repeated."
Lady M invites Emily to her estate for a week and charges her to help with the arrangements of parties, dinners and the village fete. Emily is happy to comply with her wishes, seemingly oblivious to the fact that she has to do everything.
The "pinnacle" of the present party is the presence of Lady Maria's nephew, the elderly, widowed & rich Marquis, Lord Walderhurst, who has matrimonial plans and may choose a bride among the lady guests.
"Walderhurst is coming to me. It always amuses me to have Walderhurst. The moment a man like that comes into a room the women begin to frisk about and swim and languish, except those who try to get up interesting conversations they think likely to attract his attention. They all think it is possible that he may marry them. If he were a Mormon he might have marchionesses of Walderhurst of all shapes and sizes.”
And the million-dollar question is of course: WHOM WILL HE CHOOSE AS HIS MARCHIONESS?
There are 3 likely candidates, summed up by Lady M with perfect insight and precision:
1) Mrs Ralph, a clever authoress:
“Mrs. Ralph is the kind of woman who means business. She’ll corner Walderhurst and talk literature and roll her eyes at him until he hates her. These writing women, who are intensely pleased with themselves, if they have some good looks into the bargain, believe themselves capable of marrying any one. Mrs. Ralph has fine eyes and rolls them. Walderhurst won’t be ogled."
2) Miss Cora Brooke, an American heiress
"The Brooke girl is sharper than Ralph. She was very sharp this afternoon. She began at once.” “I—I didn’t see her”—wondering. “Yes, you did; but you didn’t understand. The tennis, and the laughing with young Heriot on the terrace! She is going to be the piquant young woman who aggravates by indifference, and disdains rank and splendour; the kind of girl who has her innings in novelettes—but not out of them."
3) Lady Agatha Slade, a society beauty
"Now there is Agatha Slade, poor girl! She’s of a kind I know by heart. With birth and beauty, she is perfectly helpless. Her people are poor enough to be entitled to aid from the Charity Organisation, and they have had the indecency to present themselves with six daughters—six! All with delicate skins and delicate little noses and heavenly eyes. Most men can’t afford them, and they can’t afford most men."
Under the pretext of this seemingly lighthearted situation, we are dealt some harsh truths about the helplessness of women who are exposed either socially or financially or both.
It is disheartening to learn that Agatha is not only pressured by society, but by her mother and by her younger sisters as well to find a husband or leave the social scene so that she can make way for them.
Also Emily's bleak situation, despite her infinite goodness, is staring at us in the face rather nastily. The author disguises it under the veil of some flippant and funny remarks, but it is clear that she intended this veil to be very transparent.
The girl had received a long, anxious letter from her mother, in which much was said of the importance of an early preparation for the presentation of Alix, who had really been kept back a year, and was in fact nearer twenty than nineteen. “If we were not in Debrett and Burke, one might be reserved about such matters,” poor Lady Claraway wrote; “but what is one to do when all the world can buy one’s daughters’ ages at the booksellers’?”
"They had both had hard lives, and knew what lay before them. Agatha knew she must make a marriage or fade out of existence in prosaic and narrowed dulness. Emily knew that there was no prospect for her of desirable marriage at all. She was too poor, too entirely unsupported by social surroundings, and not sufficiently radiant to catch the roving eye."
*SPOILER WARNING* from here on, I will more explicitly discuss characters and for that the plot must be more or less revealed.
Of course, there are some implications that none of the 3 candidates will succeed in their attempts to catch His Lordship and F.H.B. rather nicely and credibly develops the relationship between Emily and James in the background. Neither of them are young, but the feelings they have for each other are solid, realistic & convincing and in a way they touched me deeper than any passion & romance could have done.
“I am not a marrying man,” said his lordship, “but I must marry, and I like you better than any woman I have ever known. I do not generally like women. I am a selfish man, and I want an unselfish woman. Most women are as selfish as I am myself. I used to like you when I heard Maria speak of you. I have watched you and thought of you ever since I came here. You are necessary to every one, and you are so modest that you know nothing about it."
“I want a companion.” “But I am so far from clever,” faltered Emily. The marquis turned in his driving-seat to look at her. It was really a very nice look he gave her. It made Emily’s cheeks grow pink and her simple heart beat. “You are the woman I want,” he said. “You make me feel quite sentimental.”
It started actually with Lord Walderhurst's ambiguous characterisation when I had the feeling that something was a bit off-kilter. I found the author's treatment of the marquis somewhat off-putting. It was like she could not make up her mind about him. (Considering that by the time she was writing this novel, her 2nd marriage was dissolving, perhaps this is no great wonder)
In one way he represents the ultimate upper-class Victorian MAN and while F.H.B. endowed him with some positive qualities, she kept wavering between respect and mild contempt where he was concerned.
She kept dropping positive statements about him in one moment just to counteract it in the next.
Lord Walderhurst reminded me quite a lot of Sir Thomas Bertram in [b:Mansfield Park|45032|Mansfield Park|Jane Austen|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1397063295l/45032._SY75_.jpg|2722329] by [a:Jane Austen|1265|Jane Austen|https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1588941810p2/1265.jpg]. Stiff, patriarchal, dignified, self-absorbed, but intelligent with an inherent moral code and decency. I felt rather sorry for him for the way his author treated him & to me he appeared a positive character despite F.H.B.'s attempts to belittle him.
For example it is clear to him almost from the start that Lady Maria uses Emily for her own purposes unashamedly & tells her so.
“He is an interesting creature, to my mind,” she said. “I have always rather liked him. He has original ideas, though he is not in the least brilliant. I believe he talks more freely to me, on the whole, than to most people, though I can’t say he has a particularly good opinion of me. He stuck his glass in his eye and stared at me last night, in that weird way of his, and said to me, ‘Maria, in an ingenuous fashion of your own, you are the most abominably selfish woman I ever beheld.’
After the fete, it is him that makes Lady M's guests and the whole village to acknowledge Emily's work.
"Lord Walderhurst stood near Lady Maria and looked pleased also. Emily saw him speak to her ladyship and saw Lady Maria smile. Then he stepped forward, with his noncommittal air and his monocle glaring calmly in his eye. “Boys and girls,” he said in a clear, far-reaching voice, “I want you to give three of the biggest cheers you are capable of for the lady who has worked to make your treat the success it has been. Her ladyship tells me she has never had such a treat before. Three cheers for Miss Fox-Seton.”
However, despite the constantly implied criticism of Lord W, F.H.B. manages the development of their relationship and their marriage rather beautifully and elegantly and reaches a kind of balance in the very touching end which I hope made her as happy as her characters!
Concerning the Gothic element in the the 2nd part of the story, suffice to say that Catherine Moreland and Isabella Thorpe from [b:Northanger Abbey|15994531|Northanger Abbey|Jane Austen|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1546419887l/15994531._SY75_.jpg|4039699] would have enjoyed it, though probably would not have found it horrid enough.
********************************
I have been contemplating for some time the rating for this book. I was wavering between 3 and 4 stars, but in the end I decided on 4 because my enjoyment of the book actually far outweighs my original bewilderment about the curious way [a:Frances Hodgson Burnett|2041|Frances Hodgson Burnett|https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1197934848p2/2041.jpg] mixed her genres.
The plot is a crossover between a comedy of manners along the lines of a rags-to-riches story with a clear criticism of Victorian society and a Gothic novel (though with certainly less melodrama). However while the plot appeared shaky sometimes, the characterisation is excellent and succinct and that carries the day for me in any book.
The main character of the novel is Emily Fox-Seton, an impoverished lady of impeccable character, birth, manners and a universal goodwill towards mankind. She is a 34-year-old spinster, has hardly anything to live on, dwells in a boarding house (though thankfully with an incredibly kind landlady and her daughter) and tries to make ends meet by acting as a kind of secretary-cum-lady-in-waiting for rich, aristocratic ladies. She is kind and humble and happy in her own way (apart from the existential anxiety) and translates the high ladies' condescension and patronage as kindness towards herself. She also lacks the finesse and ruthlessness that drive many/most of her contemporaries and her "survival" under such social and pecuniary circumstances seems doubtful, to say the least.
One of her patronesses, the Lady Maria Bayne is a selfish, but wickedly witty and entertaining old lady.
"Lady Maria Bayne was the cleverest, sharpest-tongued, smartest old woman in London. She knew everybody and had done everything in her youth, a good many things not considered highly proper. A certain royal duke had been much pleased with her and people had said some very nasty things about it. But this had not hurt Lady Maria. She knew how to say nasty things herself, and as she said them wittily they were usually listened to and repeated."
Lady M invites Emily to her estate for a week and charges her to help with the arrangements of parties, dinners and the village fete. Emily is happy to comply with her wishes, seemingly oblivious to the fact that she has to do everything.
The "pinnacle" of the present party is the presence of Lady Maria's nephew, the elderly, widowed & rich Marquis, Lord Walderhurst, who has matrimonial plans and may choose a bride among the lady guests.
"Walderhurst is coming to me. It always amuses me to have Walderhurst. The moment a man like that comes into a room the women begin to frisk about and swim and languish, except those who try to get up interesting conversations they think likely to attract his attention. They all think it is possible that he may marry them. If he were a Mormon he might have marchionesses of Walderhurst of all shapes and sizes.”
And the million-dollar question is of course: WHOM WILL HE CHOOSE AS HIS MARCHIONESS?
There are 3 likely candidates, summed up by Lady M with perfect insight and precision:
1) Mrs Ralph, a clever authoress:
“Mrs. Ralph is the kind of woman who means business. She’ll corner Walderhurst and talk literature and roll her eyes at him until he hates her. These writing women, who are intensely pleased with themselves, if they have some good looks into the bargain, believe themselves capable of marrying any one. Mrs. Ralph has fine eyes and rolls them. Walderhurst won’t be ogled."
2) Miss Cora Brooke, an American heiress
"The Brooke girl is sharper than Ralph. She was very sharp this afternoon. She began at once.” “I—I didn’t see her”—wondering. “Yes, you did; but you didn’t understand. The tennis, and the laughing with young Heriot on the terrace! She is going to be the piquant young woman who aggravates by indifference, and disdains rank and splendour; the kind of girl who has her innings in novelettes—but not out of them."
3) Lady Agatha Slade, a society beauty
"Now there is Agatha Slade, poor girl! She’s of a kind I know by heart. With birth and beauty, she is perfectly helpless. Her people are poor enough to be entitled to aid from the Charity Organisation, and they have had the indecency to present themselves with six daughters—six! All with delicate skins and delicate little noses and heavenly eyes. Most men can’t afford them, and they can’t afford most men."
Under the pretext of this seemingly lighthearted situation, we are dealt some harsh truths about the helplessness of women who are exposed either socially or financially or both.
It is disheartening to learn that Agatha is not only pressured by society, but by her mother and by her younger sisters as well to find a husband or leave the social scene so that she can make way for them.
Also Emily's bleak situation, despite her infinite goodness, is staring at us in the face rather nastily. The author disguises it under the veil of some flippant and funny remarks, but it is clear that she intended this veil to be very transparent.
The girl had received a long, anxious letter from her mother, in which much was said of the importance of an early preparation for the presentation of Alix, who had really been kept back a year, and was in fact nearer twenty than nineteen. “If we were not in Debrett and Burke, one might be reserved about such matters,” poor Lady Claraway wrote; “but what is one to do when all the world can buy one’s daughters’ ages at the booksellers’?”
"They had both had hard lives, and knew what lay before them. Agatha knew she must make a marriage or fade out of existence in prosaic and narrowed dulness. Emily knew that there was no prospect for her of desirable marriage at all. She was too poor, too entirely unsupported by social surroundings, and not sufficiently radiant to catch the roving eye."
*SPOILER WARNING* from here on, I will more explicitly discuss characters and for that the plot must be more or less revealed.
Of course, there are some implications that none of the 3 candidates will succeed in their attempts to catch His Lordship and F.H.B. rather nicely and credibly develops the relationship between Emily and James in the background. Neither of them are young, but the feelings they have for each other are solid, realistic & convincing and in a way they touched me deeper than any passion & romance could have done.
“I am not a marrying man,” said his lordship, “but I must marry, and I like you better than any woman I have ever known. I do not generally like women. I am a selfish man, and I want an unselfish woman. Most women are as selfish as I am myself. I used to like you when I heard Maria speak of you. I have watched you and thought of you ever since I came here. You are necessary to every one, and you are so modest that you know nothing about it."
“I want a companion.” “But I am so far from clever,” faltered Emily. The marquis turned in his driving-seat to look at her. It was really a very nice look he gave her. It made Emily’s cheeks grow pink and her simple heart beat. “You are the woman I want,” he said. “You make me feel quite sentimental.”
It started actually with Lord Walderhurst's ambiguous characterisation when I had the feeling that something was a bit off-kilter. I found the author's treatment of the marquis somewhat off-putting. It was like she could not make up her mind about him. (Considering that by the time she was writing this novel, her 2nd marriage was dissolving, perhaps this is no great wonder)
In one way he represents the ultimate upper-class Victorian MAN and while F.H.B. endowed him with some positive qualities, she kept wavering between respect and mild contempt where he was concerned.
She kept dropping positive statements about him in one moment just to counteract it in the next.
Lord Walderhurst reminded me quite a lot of Sir Thomas Bertram in [b:Mansfield Park|45032|Mansfield Park|Jane Austen|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1397063295l/45032._SY75_.jpg|2722329] by [a:Jane Austen|1265|Jane Austen|https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1588941810p2/1265.jpg]. Stiff, patriarchal, dignified, self-absorbed, but intelligent with an inherent moral code and decency. I felt rather sorry for him for the way his author treated him & to me he appeared a positive character despite F.H.B.'s attempts to belittle him.
For example it is clear to him almost from the start that Lady Maria uses Emily for her own purposes unashamedly & tells her so.
“He is an interesting creature, to my mind,” she said. “I have always rather liked him. He has original ideas, though he is not in the least brilliant. I believe he talks more freely to me, on the whole, than to most people, though I can’t say he has a particularly good opinion of me. He stuck his glass in his eye and stared at me last night, in that weird way of his, and said to me, ‘Maria, in an ingenuous fashion of your own, you are the most abominably selfish woman I ever beheld.’
After the fete, it is him that makes Lady M's guests and the whole village to acknowledge Emily's work.
"Lord Walderhurst stood near Lady Maria and looked pleased also. Emily saw him speak to her ladyship and saw Lady Maria smile. Then he stepped forward, with his noncommittal air and his monocle glaring calmly in his eye. “Boys and girls,” he said in a clear, far-reaching voice, “I want you to give three of the biggest cheers you are capable of for the lady who has worked to make your treat the success it has been. Her ladyship tells me she has never had such a treat before. Three cheers for Miss Fox-Seton.”
However, despite the constantly implied criticism of Lord W, F.H.B. manages the development of their relationship and their marriage rather beautifully and elegantly and reaches a kind of balance in the very touching end which I hope made her as happy as her characters!
Concerning the Gothic element in the the 2nd part of the story, suffice to say that Catherine Moreland and Isabella Thorpe from [b:Northanger Abbey|15994531|Northanger Abbey|Jane Austen|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1546419887l/15994531._SY75_.jpg|4039699] would have enjoyed it, though probably would not have found it horrid enough.
bibliobethreads's review against another edition
4.0
The Making Of A Marchioness was one of my first Persephone books and as soon as I saw it was written by Frances Hodgson Burnett I knew immediately I had to have it. Hodgson Burnett is the much loved author of children’s books like The Secret Garden and A Little Princess, both of which are childhood favourites of my own but up until now, I had never read any of her adult literature.
Thank goodness for two things - Persephone Books that publishes neglected (mostly) female authors and for @sandladysbooks who I buddy read it with, thoroughly enjoying the experience as we always seem to find a great deal to chat about.
Marchioness follows a young woman called Emily who is living in a small apartment and is incredibly selfless, preferring to help others, which she does at a detriment to herself occasionally. Her generous, sweet and helpful nature leads to a friendship with Lady Maria Bayne who very much takes advantage of her willingness to go above and beyond when helping others.
However, as she lends a hand (in other words, does EVERYTHING) at a party given by Lady Bayne, she is noticed by her friend’s cousin, the Marquis of Walderhurst. The story that follows from there is very much a slightly predictable Cinderella/rags to riches narrative yet there is also a very enjoyable part with the heir to Walderhurst’s fortune which adds a new thrill to an otherwise pedestrian (but very pleasant) story.
This was a lovely book to get lost in. It was comforting and easy to read but at the same time, it had an edge to it which I really appreciated. I loved the gentle humour running through the story, particularly the obsession with looking at the characters through eye glasses which may not sound amusing but was very funny to discuss with Cath when reading it together.
This is a gentle, interesting read that I would recommend to fans of the author. I’m really pleased that I finally managed to get to it and now I know there’s a sequel, I’ll definitely be checking that out.
Four solid stars
Thank goodness for two things - Persephone Books that publishes neglected (mostly) female authors and for @sandladysbooks who I buddy read it with, thoroughly enjoying the experience as we always seem to find a great deal to chat about.
Marchioness follows a young woman called Emily who is living in a small apartment and is incredibly selfless, preferring to help others, which she does at a detriment to herself occasionally. Her generous, sweet and helpful nature leads to a friendship with Lady Maria Bayne who very much takes advantage of her willingness to go above and beyond when helping others.
However, as she lends a hand (in other words, does EVERYTHING) at a party given by Lady Bayne, she is noticed by her friend’s cousin, the Marquis of Walderhurst. The story that follows from there is very much a slightly predictable Cinderella/rags to riches narrative yet there is also a very enjoyable part with the heir to Walderhurst’s fortune which adds a new thrill to an otherwise pedestrian (but very pleasant) story.
This was a lovely book to get lost in. It was comforting and easy to read but at the same time, it had an edge to it which I really appreciated. I loved the gentle humour running through the story, particularly the obsession with looking at the characters through eye glasses which may not sound amusing but was very funny to discuss with Cath when reading it together.
This is a gentle, interesting read that I would recommend to fans of the author. I’m really pleased that I finally managed to get to it and now I know there’s a sequel, I’ll definitely be checking that out.
Four solid stars
kayedacus's review against another edition
4.0
Story: 3.5 stars
Narrator: 4 stars
Yes, I'll freely admit that, even though I had this book on my shelf for years, I didn't make the decision to read (well, listen to) it until after watching The Making of a Lady on PBS a few weeks ago (and I've pre-ordered the DVD!). While the "gothic" elements of the story seemed odd in the movie, I have to admit, they're even odder in the book . . . because they're given so much less malice and true menace first by how they're written about (and in whose POV) and by how the circumstances are handled.
Emily Fox-Seton is a genteel woman of little means who hires herself out as an event planner, secretary, and personal shopper to women in high society London in early 1900/1901. At thirty-four years old, she has been on her own for quite some time and she has learned how to make a shilling stretch as far as possible. She lives in a rented room in a boarding house owned and run by Mrs. Cupp and her daughter, Jane, whose kindness she appreciates and who are quite fond of her in return.
One of Emily's employers, Lady Maria Bayne, who truly likes Emily (in addition to liking what Emily can do for her) invites Emily to come to a country house party---and to act as Lady Maria's companion, which means she gets to participate in the social activities for the most part. There are several random other characters here, but the most important guest is Lady Maria's cousin, the marquis James Walderhurst. Lady Maria lets Emily know that Lord Walderhurst (who is in his mid-50s) lost his first wife and son many, many years ago; and if he wants an heir to inherit his title/estates, he must remarry and have another son. Emily sees her role at the house party to make sure the other few young women there---a wealthy American girl and the poor Lady Agatha---are seen to their greatest advantage. At every opportunity, she speaks well of each of the other young women to Walderhurst.
On a day when Walderhurst and all of the other guests have gone out for a drive/site seeing, Lady Maria discovers that the fish monger who was supposed to supply them for dinner didn't have anything. The next closest one is in another town four miles away. But all of the carriages (and I suppose all the riding horses, too???) are out, so Emily, even though she's fatigued from the eventful day before, volunteers to walk the four miles to get fish for dinner. On this walk, Emily reads a letter delivered to her shortly before she left the estate and she discovers that the Cupps are selling their house and moving out to the country. What does she want them to do with all of her stuff? This, of course, comes as quite a blow to Emily. On her way back to the house, she breaks down and stops to have a good cry. When Walderhurst returns to the estate after the outing and learns about the errand Lady Maria sent Emily on, he immediately goes out with his phaeton to retrieve her. He finds Emily on the moors crying and, moved by . . . love (? he's not an overly sentimental man) he proposes to her.
This is the end of Part 1, which was a novella originally published as The Making of a Marchioness. And it's only about the first 20-25% of the book.
In Part 2, originally published as The Methods of Lady Walderhurst, Emily and Walderhurst marry. She meets his cousin, and heir, Alec Osborn and Alec's half-Indian wife, Hester. Having believed for years that he would inherit the estates and wealth that go along with the Walderhurst title, Alec is none-too-happy that James has remarried. At first, he and Hester (who is pregnant) tell themselves that at her age, Emily is unlikely to give Walderhurst a son/heir. But then, of course, the inevitable happens. After Walderhurst traipses off to India on a diplomatic mission (unlike in the movie, he isn't in the Army in the book), Emily discovers she, too, is with child. She invites the Osburns to live in a cottage on the estate, and that's when things start getting all pseudo-gothicy.
Because we're treated to Alec's and Hester's viewpoints in the story, we're at no time unaware that he wishes Emily harm. While most of the potential danger is laid off at Ameerah's feet (Hester's former ayah, now maid), Alec seethes with malice and hatred toward Emily most of the time. Hester isn't much better. She seems to hate Emily as much as Alec does . . . though when she realizes just how close to being off his rocker her husband is, she starts to realize how wrong it is to wish harm to another, much less to do harm to another.
In the movie version, Emily not only stays at Palstrey (one of Walderhurst's country estates where they take up residence after leaving London), she drinks the drugged milk, even after commenting that she doesn't trust the Osborns or Ameerah. In the book, Hester who has been treated better by Emily than by just about anyone else in her life, not only saves her from the drugging, but urges her to leave Palstrey to get away from Alec and Ameerah and what they might do to her. Emily does this and goes to London, first staying with Mrs. Cupp and Jane in the Cupps' old house, and then, after telling her doctor everything, at his advice she moves back into the Walderhurst townhouse in Berkeley Square.
Walderhurst, whose return from India was delayed by his own fever, finally returns home to learn that not only has Emily had a child (she never told him in her letters, many of which went astray, and at least one of which was intercepted by Alec), but she is also on death's door with doctors and nurses hovering over her.
In a scene worthy of any Disney movie or Jane Austen adaptation, Walderhurst kneels beside the bed calling to her---which brings her back from the "white sea" of death and back into the world of the living. Which is all very sweet and would have been a great way to end the story.
But then we're treated to a "four years later" type of scene in which Hester, now widowed, and her daughter have been living with Emily and Walderhurst ever since Alec "accidentally" shot himself with a shotgun he didn't know was loaded while he was drunk. So, instead of a romantic ending, we at least do learn that "justice" (or Just Desserts) has been served. But it was a rather lackluster ending.
The Making of a Marchioness and The Methods of Lady Walderhurst were published in 1901, the year Queen Victoria died. Several times in the book, Emily's stature and demeanor are commented upon as being "early Victorian" and "Mid-Victorian" (and once also as a "Thacheryian saint"). It's funny to me that, even less than a year after Queen Victoria's death, levels of Victorian attitudes and behaviors had already been defined.
One major issue I had with the book is Burnett's overuse of the word ingenuous. It's apparently her favorite adjective/adverb. Everything about Emily is ingenuous and she does everything ingenuously. This is one of those things that is likely more noticeable in the audio version than the print version.
Where the script writers and filmmaker got it right was keeping the danger to Emily present, rather than removing her from it and having her hiding from the fear rather than living with it, as happens in the book. They also got (very, very) right the development of the relationship between Walderhurst and Emily. I loved the slow-burn between them in the film version. Here, there's almost no emotional or intellectual connection between them, except for the fact that she moons over his letters when he's gone, and he comes to have "tender" thoughts about her upon reading her letters while he's convalescing. Though, in the end, his outburst that he would rather have Emily than the son she bore him, is very sweet. What the movie got wrong: Jane Cupp. Never in the book is Jane anything but completely loyal to Emily. It is Jane who saves Emily from disaster more than once, and it is she who loses sleep to watch over Emily when she realizes the threat to her mistress's life.
It was quite interesting seeing the original depiction of these characters and the story as the author imagined it instead of just the 21st century adaptation's take on them. Gothic romances were quite popular in the late-Victorian/early Edwardian era; but, unfortunately, this doesn't work as one of those, even though it does have some of the elements. We also see clearly depicted the attitude of that era toward those of Indian birth/descent, though much of this is ameliorated by Emily's attitude---and her suggestion that Jane read Uncle Tom's Cabin (apparently Burnett's favorite novel as a young girl) to understand the plight of "the blacks" (which, apparently, Indians were called in England at this time).
Had I not seen the movie and fallen so deeply in love with Emily and Walderhurst, I might not have stuck this one out. But I'm glad I did. It will never be a favorite, but I'm glad I read it.
Narrator: 4 stars
Yes, I'll freely admit that, even though I had this book on my shelf for years, I didn't make the decision to read (well, listen to) it until after watching The Making of a Lady on PBS a few weeks ago (and I've pre-ordered the DVD!). While the "gothic" elements of the story seemed odd in the movie, I have to admit, they're even odder in the book . . . because they're given so much less malice and true menace first by how they're written about (and in whose POV) and by how the circumstances are handled.
Emily Fox-Seton is a genteel woman of little means who hires herself out as an event planner, secretary, and personal shopper to women in high society London in early 1900/1901. At thirty-four years old, she has been on her own for quite some time and she has learned how to make a shilling stretch as far as possible. She lives in a rented room in a boarding house owned and run by Mrs. Cupp and her daughter, Jane, whose kindness she appreciates and who are quite fond of her in return.
One of Emily's employers, Lady Maria Bayne, who truly likes Emily (in addition to liking what Emily can do for her) invites Emily to come to a country house party---and to act as Lady Maria's companion, which means she gets to participate in the social activities for the most part. There are several random other characters here, but the most important guest is Lady Maria's cousin, the marquis James Walderhurst. Lady Maria lets Emily know that Lord Walderhurst (who is in his mid-50s) lost his first wife and son many, many years ago; and if he wants an heir to inherit his title/estates, he must remarry and have another son. Emily sees her role at the house party to make sure the other few young women there---a wealthy American girl and the poor Lady Agatha---are seen to their greatest advantage. At every opportunity, she speaks well of each of the other young women to Walderhurst.
On a day when Walderhurst and all of the other guests have gone out for a drive/site seeing, Lady Maria discovers that the fish monger who was supposed to supply them for dinner didn't have anything. The next closest one is in another town four miles away. But all of the carriages (and I suppose all the riding horses, too???) are out, so Emily, even though she's fatigued from the eventful day before, volunteers to walk the four miles to get fish for dinner. On this walk, Emily reads a letter delivered to her shortly before she left the estate and she discovers that the Cupps are selling their house and moving out to the country. What does she want them to do with all of her stuff? This, of course, comes as quite a blow to Emily. On her way back to the house, she breaks down and stops to have a good cry. When Walderhurst returns to the estate after the outing and learns about the errand Lady Maria sent Emily on, he immediately goes out with his phaeton to retrieve her. He finds Emily on the moors crying and, moved by . . . love (? he's not an overly sentimental man) he proposes to her.
This is the end of Part 1, which was a novella originally published as The Making of a Marchioness. And it's only about the first 20-25% of the book.
In Part 2, originally published as The Methods of Lady Walderhurst, Emily and Walderhurst marry. She meets his cousin, and heir, Alec Osborn and Alec's half-Indian wife, Hester. Having believed for years that he would inherit the estates and wealth that go along with the Walderhurst title, Alec is none-too-happy that James has remarried. At first, he and Hester (who is pregnant) tell themselves that at her age, Emily is unlikely to give Walderhurst a son/heir. But then, of course, the inevitable happens. After Walderhurst traipses off to India on a diplomatic mission (unlike in the movie, he isn't in the Army in the book), Emily discovers she, too, is with child. She invites the Osburns to live in a cottage on the estate, and that's when things start getting all pseudo-gothicy.
Because we're treated to Alec's and Hester's viewpoints in the story, we're at no time unaware that he wishes Emily harm. While most of the potential danger is laid off at Ameerah's feet (Hester's former ayah, now maid), Alec seethes with malice and hatred toward Emily most of the time. Hester isn't much better. She seems to hate Emily as much as Alec does . . . though when she realizes just how close to being off his rocker her husband is, she starts to realize how wrong it is to wish harm to another, much less to do harm to another.
In the movie version, Emily not only stays at Palstrey (one of Walderhurst's country estates where they take up residence after leaving London), she drinks the drugged milk, even after commenting that she doesn't trust the Osborns or Ameerah. In the book, Hester who has been treated better by Emily than by just about anyone else in her life, not only saves her from the drugging, but urges her to leave Palstrey to get away from Alec and Ameerah and what they might do to her. Emily does this and goes to London, first staying with Mrs. Cupp and Jane in the Cupps' old house, and then, after telling her doctor everything, at his advice she moves back into the Walderhurst townhouse in Berkeley Square.
Walderhurst, whose return from India was delayed by his own fever, finally returns home to learn that not only has Emily had a child (she never told him in her letters, many of which went astray, and at least one of which was intercepted by Alec), but she is also on death's door with doctors and nurses hovering over her.
In a scene worthy of any Disney movie or Jane Austen adaptation, Walderhurst kneels beside the bed calling to her---which brings her back from the "white sea" of death and back into the world of the living. Which is all very sweet and would have been a great way to end the story.
But then we're treated to a "four years later" type of scene in which Hester, now widowed, and her daughter have been living with Emily and Walderhurst ever since Alec "accidentally" shot himself with a shotgun he didn't know was loaded while he was drunk. So, instead of a romantic ending, we at least do learn that "justice" (or Just Desserts) has been served. But it was a rather lackluster ending.
The Making of a Marchioness and The Methods of Lady Walderhurst were published in 1901, the year Queen Victoria died. Several times in the book, Emily's stature and demeanor are commented upon as being "early Victorian" and "Mid-Victorian" (and once also as a "Thacheryian saint"). It's funny to me that, even less than a year after Queen Victoria's death, levels of Victorian attitudes and behaviors had already been defined.
One major issue I had with the book is Burnett's overuse of the word ingenuous. It's apparently her favorite adjective/adverb. Everything about Emily is ingenuous and she does everything ingenuously. This is one of those things that is likely more noticeable in the audio version than the print version.
Where the script writers and filmmaker got it right was keeping the danger to Emily present, rather than removing her from it and having her hiding from the fear rather than living with it, as happens in the book. They also got (very, very) right the development of the relationship between Walderhurst and Emily. I loved the slow-burn between them in the film version. Here, there's almost no emotional or intellectual connection between them, except for the fact that she moons over his letters when he's gone, and he comes to have "tender" thoughts about her upon reading her letters while he's convalescing. Though, in the end, his outburst that he would rather have Emily than the son she bore him, is very sweet. What the movie got wrong: Jane Cupp. Never in the book is Jane anything but completely loyal to Emily. It is Jane who saves Emily from disaster more than once, and it is she who loses sleep to watch over Emily when she realizes the threat to her mistress's life.
It was quite interesting seeing the original depiction of these characters and the story as the author imagined it instead of just the 21st century adaptation's take on them. Gothic romances were quite popular in the late-Victorian/early Edwardian era; but, unfortunately, this doesn't work as one of those, even though it does have some of the elements. We also see clearly depicted the attitude of that era toward those of Indian birth/descent, though much of this is ameliorated by Emily's attitude---and her suggestion that Jane read Uncle Tom's Cabin (apparently Burnett's favorite novel as a young girl) to understand the plight of "the blacks" (which, apparently, Indians were called in England at this time).
Had I not seen the movie and fallen so deeply in love with Emily and Walderhurst, I might not have stuck this one out. But I'm glad I did. It will never be a favorite, but I'm glad I read it.