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lee_foust's review
3.0
I know three stars doesn't seem like much to write home about, but I actually found quite a bit to like about Children of the Abbey. Given my reading in the period thus far has been consigned to the Gothic romances on the one hand and Jane Austen on the other, this straight up romance, by the nature of the genre, was bound to lack--for me--the thrills of the former and the sly wit of the latter. It's a kind of B genre for me--but I would certainly give Ms. Roche's effort here a strong B+. Indeed Children of the Abbey was a whole lot better than I assumed it would be going into it.
Here's what's good: Roche is a damned good writer. Definitely superior to her peer and fellow romancier (albeit Gothic) Ms. Radcliffe in every respect. The prose is as smooth as Austen, if less witty and pointed, and her plotting and the romance's long, convoluted story is really quite engrossing. All ends are tied up neatly, giving one a quite satisfactory read. After every impediment I felt she could do no more to these star-crossed lovers and at every turn I was foiled as she found ingenious ways to keep them apart, bring them back together, and then pry them apart again. I have to marvel at the narrative's overall ingenuity to keep all of its balls in the air, like an expert juggler. Also Roche's poetic interjections--also a habit of Ms. Radcliffe's--are on point and often beautiful. Whereas I find them mostly ill-timed and distracting in Radcliffe's Gothics, here they actually added to rather than detracted from the narrative and I mostly welcomed them.
Even so, this is still an out-dated and tiresome genre and I'm not at all surprised, reading this, maybe its finest example, that the realistic novel won out over the old-fashioned, episodic romance. The characters' goodness reads as mostly insipid today. Our poor heroine, Amanda, spends the entire 600+ pages either moping, crying, refusing food, or unable to sleep. Her only strength of character lies in surviving the narrative despite her radical self starvation and endless insomnia. I thought of a drinking game, taking a shot every time she weeps, but I'm sure it would kill even the most dedicated alcoholic to do so, even if they were a very slow reader. Also, what are there, like only 20 or so people in all of England that they would incessantly be running into each other at opportune moments? And is all sickness caused exclusively by heightened emotions, grief, and disappointment in love? Are there no viruses or infections? It's all very beyond the pale.
But, well, all of these criticisms really stem from a reader inured to the realistic novel, do they not? While I laughed out loud at so many fantastic and often ridiculous coincidences and beyond melodramatic demonstrations of emotion (also, hysterically, the pretend Welsh accent of the nurse made "In all my born days" become "In all my Porn days." Twice.), for the most part I was able to suspend my disbelief and enjoy the ride. Thus, despite only three stars, I actually recommend the book. But don't go into it with your critical faculties sharpened or your realistic assumptions intact.
Note: I didn't actually read this modern critical edition. I own an old hardcover, undated, but a U.S. printing. Interestingly, a former owner had written her name and address on the flyleaf. I Google street mapped the address and found a lovely Victorian home along the river in Lansing, Michigan. I live in Florence, Italy. So this book has come a long, long way in its life of at least a hundred years. I will take good care of it and hope it finds another reader before physical books become completely obsolete.
Here's what's good: Roche is a damned good writer. Definitely superior to her peer and fellow romancier (albeit Gothic) Ms. Radcliffe in every respect. The prose is as smooth as Austen, if less witty and pointed, and her plotting and the romance's long, convoluted story is really quite engrossing. All ends are tied up neatly, giving one a quite satisfactory read. After every impediment I felt she could do no more to these star-crossed lovers and at every turn I was foiled as she found ingenious ways to keep them apart, bring them back together, and then pry them apart again. I have to marvel at the narrative's overall ingenuity to keep all of its balls in the air, like an expert juggler. Also Roche's poetic interjections--also a habit of Ms. Radcliffe's--are on point and often beautiful. Whereas I find them mostly ill-timed and distracting in Radcliffe's Gothics, here they actually added to rather than detracted from the narrative and I mostly welcomed them.
Even so, this is still an out-dated and tiresome genre and I'm not at all surprised, reading this, maybe its finest example, that the realistic novel won out over the old-fashioned, episodic romance. The characters' goodness reads as mostly insipid today. Our poor heroine, Amanda, spends the entire 600+ pages either moping, crying, refusing food, or unable to sleep. Her only strength of character lies in surviving the narrative despite her radical self starvation and endless insomnia. I thought of a drinking game, taking a shot every time she weeps, but I'm sure it would kill even the most dedicated alcoholic to do so, even if they were a very slow reader. Also, what are there, like only 20 or so people in all of England that they would incessantly be running into each other at opportune moments? And is all sickness caused exclusively by heightened emotions, grief, and disappointment in love? Are there no viruses or infections? It's all very beyond the pale.
But, well, all of these criticisms really stem from a reader inured to the realistic novel, do they not? While I laughed out loud at so many fantastic and often ridiculous coincidences and beyond melodramatic demonstrations of emotion (also, hysterically, the pretend Welsh accent of the nurse made "In all my born days" become "In all my Porn days." Twice.), for the most part I was able to suspend my disbelief and enjoy the ride. Thus, despite only three stars, I actually recommend the book. But don't go into it with your critical faculties sharpened or your realistic assumptions intact.
Note: I didn't actually read this modern critical edition. I own an old hardcover, undated, but a U.S. printing. Interestingly, a former owner had written her name and address on the flyleaf. I Google street mapped the address and found a lovely Victorian home along the river in Lansing, Michigan. I live in Florence, Italy. So this book has come a long, long way in its life of at least a hundred years. I will take good care of it and hope it finds another reader before physical books become completely obsolete.
borbala_17's review
4.0
I have been dreaming about this moment. Finally finishing 700 pages of this deserves a medal.
Regina Maria Roche is masterful at totally engrossing you in the story, making you invested in the fate of the characters, and then killing you very, very slowly. I would really like to know how she came up with this intricate and, quite honestly, at times unbearably torturous plotline. Did she just wake up one morning, and decide to choose violence? Because there is ALWAYS something worse around the corner.
I was angry. I was revolted. I felt murderous feelings rise within me. I held a 15-minute disquisition to my best friend about my grievances over this book. All this with having already read sentimentalist and Gothic fiction, and knowing full well what to expect. Or not, as my reaction shows...? At least, the sentimentalist theories about emotional response could totally have been observed in my case - as far as rage goes. At some point I wasn't even that angry at the villains - their job is to be bad, as the main character's is to be pure, angelic and all that. What really had me fuming is that the author was purposefully torturing me.
Also, I'm not the type to judge old books (which I LOVE) by modern standards, but there are things which are just plain wrong, regardless of when you read it. Glamourizing as the epitome of virtue when Amanda submits to the emotional blackmail of Lord Cherbury and clearly implying that it would have been her fault if he committed suicide had my blood boiling. Just NO.
Anyways. I'm glad that it ended well, with all the threads tied up, somewhat foreseeably, but nonetheless satisfactorily. It's over now and I'm glad it is, so that now I can go on and choose another torturous reading.
Regina Maria Roche is masterful at totally engrossing you in the story, making you invested in the fate of the characters, and then killing you very, very slowly. I would really like to know how she came up with this intricate and, quite honestly, at times unbearably torturous plotline. Did she just wake up one morning, and decide to choose violence? Because there is ALWAYS something worse around the corner.
I was angry. I was revolted. I felt murderous feelings rise within me. I held a 15-minute disquisition to my best friend about my grievances over this book. All this with having already read sentimentalist and Gothic fiction, and knowing full well what to expect. Or not, as my reaction shows...? At least, the sentimentalist theories about emotional response could totally have been observed in my case - as far as rage goes. At some point I wasn't even that angry at the villains - their job is to be bad, as the main character's is to be pure, angelic and all that. What really had me fuming is that the author was purposefully torturing me.
Also, I'm not the type to judge old books (which I LOVE) by modern standards, but there are things which are just plain wrong, regardless of when you read it. Glamourizing as the epitome of virtue when Amanda submits to the emotional blackmail of Lord Cherbury and clearly implying that it would have been her fault if he committed suicide had my blood boiling. Just NO.
Anyways. I'm glad that it ended well, with all the threads tied up, somewhat foreseeably, but nonetheless satisfactorily. It's over now and I'm glad it is, so that now I can go on and choose another torturous reading.
elizastudying's review
4.0
I thought I'd never finish this book. Not necessarily because it's that tedious (though it is a bit at times with, as another reviewer points out, the protagonist and her lover being (re)united and separated more than I could count), but because with the start of the academic year procrastination ensued and it took me a while to get into it. Nevertheless, I quite enjoy the story and am interested in studying it further, especially since it was so popular at the time and moves from Wales, to Ireland, to Scotland, through England back to Ireland and Wales and Scotland. It's interesting to look at these portrayals I imagine!