#i have. so many clarissa/diana thoughts.

[thiefbird]

❤️🧡💛 -for any age of sail fandom you feel like answering for✌🏻 ☺️

Greetings from @aye-aye-captain

💖: What is your biggest unpopular opinion about the series?

I mean, if you ask the Aubreyad fandom at large(I am in a facebook group about it because I like looking at photos and paintings of ships), probably my near-complete conviction that POB wrote them with homoerotic subtext on purpose. But we're on tumblr, the homoerotic subtext website, so I really don't know! I guess not unpopular as in people dislike it, but just that there's very little discussion or fic about it, but. Diana Villiers is having an affair with Clarissa Oakes. I am fully convinced of this - it might be an entirely non-sexual affair, Guinevere and Lancelot style(which would be a fascinating thing to write, actually [makes notes]).

🧡: What is a popular (serious) theory you disagree with?

I totally and completely honestly cannot think of one. These fandoms so far has been very good at being Correct According To Birb™.

💛: What is a popular ship you just can't get behind, and why?

Gonna go with Hornblower here. I came into the fandom fully planning on shipping Archie and 'Ratio whole-heartedly, but I just can't quite get into a lot of it. I do fully read Archie as being in a conflicted sort of half-love with Hornblower, but I do not think Hornblower reciprocates - or if he does, he does not have any clue about it until well after Archie's death. I will go down with Hotspur Husbands and Pelhorn however. I guess also Granby/Little. I just don't know enough about Little in canon to care about him much lmao he's just Some Guy. To me. I do fully believe Granby has at least once said either "Will" or "Laurence" while they're having sex tho. Sorry, Little.

[elliemarchetti]

The Selection AU (Part 2)

Previous chapter 

Words: 1309

It was ten minutes before the Report was aired and they were all in their seats in front of the television, determined not to miss even a second of the announcement. What would happen in the next half hour was of fundamental importance to understand how they should move to take Norta and bring down its corrupt government and monarchy, but it was also one of the rare moments of relaxation that they would have had until a date that still had to be assigned, therefore she let her subordinates and her companions chat as ordinary citizens, which actually could’ve helped them to blend further in with the crowd. Usually, Diana would’ve behaved differently too, but at the moment she was tense like a violin string and she nearly jumped when the Nortan national anthem started and the Calore coat of arms appeared. Although she tried and succeeded to keep a certain demeanor until that moment, her hands began to tremble slightly, which Tristan seemed to notice as he squeezed her arms, hoping to calm her down. If he hadn’t been around for the duration of the whole operation, she probably would’ve gone mad. It had been a long time since she last prayed, but she finally did it again, asking for that torture to end quickly, but of course the gods weren’t going to respond, as always, and King Tiberias gave a quick, and very false, update on the war. At Whitefire Palace everyone seemed in a good mood, but the Scarlet Guard knew it was just a facade that served to entertain the Reds.

“It’s always a pleasure to be able to make these announcements,” said Queen Coriane, standing up and approaching her husband. “Yesterday I was present when some of the girls were extracted, and I have to say they’re all very pretty, but I didn’t wanted to completely spoil the surprise and I didn’t shared my observations with my son, so he can make his first impression with all of you.”

Diana wiped her sweaty hands in her old pants as the queen continued with her story and advice for the participants. So many beautiful words, excellent rhetoric, but nothing really useful on how to survive as Red in a building full of Silvers. Obviously, how could she know? However calm and temperate she seemed, she was still one of them.

“But now, let’s find out the names of the thirty-five participants!” she exclaimed, full of enthusiasm. She doubted she lacked company, but she seemed really delighted at the idea of being surrounded by thirty-five strangers, something Diana didn’t shared, but she still couldn’t have been more grateful of the whole situation: the current ruler was pretty naïve and the Calores opened their palace’s door not only for the Queenstrial participants, but to the extra staff their presence required too, which had allowed Ann to be hired as a maid and they were waiting to know if Kilorn and Tristan’s request to work as Palace Guards had been accepted. The new recruit was one of the most willing people she had known in a long time and she had been happy to add him to her team though she still doubted the real reasons why he had joined them.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, please join me in celebrating the following daughters of Norta!” exclaimed the King, and a chuckle almost escaped Diana’s lips since if everything had gone as it should’ve, they wouldn’t all have been Norta’s daughters.

"Bariel Blonos, Silver, blood healer,” announced the Silver in his mighty tone, and a photo of a girl with porcelain skin with the appeal of a real lady was shown on the screen. The prince smiled, and Diana wondered if he knew her of had a preference for someone else. Surely the boy, even if he didn’t seemed too smart, had to have a preference at least in terms of women, al that why Rasha sent the form too. Tristan hadn’t been too happy, but he hadn’t objected too much since he was ready to do anything for the cause and he realized that she and Diana were at opposite poles of whatever aesthetic spectrum they could use.

“Tallulah Carros, Silver, strongarm,” continued the king, and a young woman full of freckles, more mature in appearance, was shown. The prince leaned over to his younger brother to whisper something in his ear and he had to refrain from laughing. Yes, it was evident that they already knew them.

“Clarissa Eagrie, Silver, eye.”

This time it was the turn of a brunette with glowing eyes, slightly younger than her but with a decidedly sexy neckline.

“It doesn’t seem too much to you …” began Tristan, but her name was announced, which made him turn to the screen abruptly. They had been able to use her real name, but they had to change at least the surname although she was pretty sure that they had no access to the Lakelands blood register in Norta, not to mention that now, in their database, a Diana Smith with her blood really existed. It had been easy to insert her and Rasha after they recruited a Red working in the archive.

“Camille Gliacon, Silver, shiver.”

The names followed each other for what seemed an interminable time, and they had almost despaired of the fact that Rasha was chosen, when, just before the end, her new name, Rasha Kumar, was announced. The two girls exchanged a proud look, as if they were really happy with that possibility. Now that they were both participating in the Queenstrial, they had twice the chances of their plan to succeed.

                                                     ————–

When Mare entered her room, exhausted as never before, she almost had a heart attack: in front of her, wearing maid uniforms, there were two very young girl, one with a very dark complexion that seemed barely of age to work, with two thick braids falling behind her gaunt shoulders, the other just a little older, white as milk, with a ruddy face full of freckles. Among them stood, proud as if she had just become queen, a figure she would’ve recognized everywhere.

“Gisa!” she screamed, and hugged her sister with enough momentum to lift her off the ground. She had been so certain that she wasn’t going to see a familiar face for a very long time that she forgot her sister’s job would certainly have earned her a place in the Queenstrial’s new hires, and someone, a very kind soul, must’ve thought it was a nice thing to entrust her to her sister.

“Have you seen all the girls?” she asked when she finally put her feet on the ground again. As always, she was an incurable gossip, but in a good way. Mare nodded, even if they hadn’t made this great impression: except for the other two Reds, the other all looked like real harpies, but given her enthusiasm, she was unable to tell her the truth and simply stated that they weren’t very talkative.

“It’s a competition, it’s normal. Just give them time and they will realize that they cannot all become queens, though I certainly wouldn’t want to be in your place. Among maids, instead, we help each other as much as possible. They are Cameron,” she explained, pointing to the thinner and slimmer girl, with dark skin, “and she is Mary,” he concluded, pointing to the other one.

“I was hired at the palace a year ago, therefore in addition to taking care of your jewels, which are my specialty, I’ll also instruct you on the court’s rules. I know we may seem like an inefficient team, and I’m firmly convinced that they wanted to penalize you, entrusting you with the younger maids, but know that we will do everything to make you a Red all Norta won’t be able to forget.”

[marginalgloss]

notions of conduct

‘…It was Burton, I think,’ he said some minutes later, ‘who observed that there were men who sucked nothing but poison from books. And who has not met youths and even maidens with ludicrous ideas of what is the thing for persons of spirit, and with permanently distorted notions of conduct that is acceptable and conduct that is not? Yet may not authors be even more poisonous?’

Some three years after I started, I am finally reaching the end of Patrick O'Brian's best-known series of historical novels. Even now, far from the beginning, I feel confident in claiming that The Yellow Admiral is the weakest in the series so far. I had mixed feelings about Clarissa Oakes for related reasons — principally the lack of direction — but it gives me no joy to say that this book is where the series really starts to show its age. With the best of his work there’s a sense of settling into a sort of comfortable groove, like listening to a favourite piece of music performed well, or sinking into an old armchair on a rainy evening. But nothing here sits easily.   

The story is sketchy to the point of being barely extant. The war against Napoleon seems to be coming to an end, and for much of the book Jack Aubrey is plagued by a couple of great anxieties. He's afraid he will be made bankrupt, due to unexpected penalties associated with illegally capturing slave ships in the previous book. He is also worried that for political reasons at the end of his career he will be made a 'yellow' admiral, which is a covert form of disgrace – a promotion to a leadership role ‘without distinction of squadron’. There's a lot of other stuff going on — most notably, the promise of another privateer mission to South America — but for the most part this is a strange sort of in-betweener novel. 

Some of it is very out of character. A great many words in the first half are expended on enclosure (or 'inclosure', as O'Brian insists on spelling it). The widespread adoption of enclosure was perhaps the most significant change ever made to the landscape of Britain. It refers to the process of fencing off areas of common land, and turning it into strips of smallholdings assigned to individuals. The old commons were open to all and could be used for grazing, hunting and gathering; a tenant forced to trade access to commons in exchange for a few small pieces of private land might see an increase in the assets on his theoretical balance sheet, but they might also see a great nearing of the horizon of the opportunities afforded to them.  

The economics and history of enclosure are complex, and my understanding is limited to what I remember from school. But the author’s dedication to pursuing it so doggedly here seems out of character, especially considering that for the most part these books have given a great deal of leeway to the political issues of the day. Politics is only usually brought up as a matter for idle philosophical speculation — usually by Stephen, in the comfortable confines of the cabin or the gun-room. 

Enclosure has serious, active consequences for Jack and his tenants, but for me the question still remains: why are we only picking up on this now? Were a reader to encounter it for the first time in this book they might think it an invention of the nineteenth century. In fact, enclosure had been going on in fits and starts for hundreds of years in England; it’s scarcely conceivable that Stephen Maturin would need to have it explained to him, as he does here. It seems a strange topic to choose as representative of the age. 

As it stands, enclosure becomes a useful hobby-horse in this book. It’s hard to feel that O’Brian actually cares very much for the consequences to the individual smallholder here. Rather, the question of whether Aubrey's local common should be enclosed makes for a diverting exercise in the novel’s own libertarian philosophies. There is something unashamedly pastoral in this vision of a free and open corner of England, largely unaffected by government interference. At first it seems ironic that the only way this can be defended is by Aubrey effectively invoking his rights as Lord of the Manor; but I would suggest this is an indication that the novel's sympathies lie with a much older model of government. It is feudal, or as good as. Perhaps this oughtn't to be surprising – by this time we should know well that democracy doesn't come out of these novels looking well:

‘Everyone knows that on a large scale democracy is pernicious nonsense – a country or even a county cannot be run by a self-seeking parcel of tub-thumping politicians working on popular emotion, rousing the mob. Even at Brooks’s, which is a hotbed of democracy, the place is in fact run by the managers and those that don’t like it may either do the other thing or join Boodle’s; while as for a man-of-war, it is either an autocracy or it is nothing, nothing at all – mere nonsense.’

For all that it has very little to do with the rest of the series, the stuff about enclosure here at least has the benefit of being memorable. Much of the rest of the book is sadly ridiculous. The absurdity peaks early on with a scene in which Bonden must win a bare-knuckle boxing match, which ends up being so violent I thought he might not survive. We like Bonden – of course we like Bonden! – but it is one authorial self-indulgence too far to turn his character into a nineteenth century brawler. It feels like fanfiction. 

The remaining passages on land in this book are long and dry and largely without character. The one thing to be said for them is that we do at least get some scenes with Diana, but otherwise it feels as though O'Brian had no clue of how to continue the series from here. There is the period of Napoleon's escape from Elba to be covered, but we can't get to that just yet, so our heroes must be dispatched to the most boring region of the war which has formed the butt of many a joke throughout the series so far – the blockade of the port of Brest. It is largely uneventful. There isn’t even a decent battle at sea to liven things up.

I think O'Brian would have been about 81 when this was published. Interestingly, it's at this point in his career that I think he was beginning to get some very serious literary recognition. He was being invited on speaking tours and having his work championed by a weird mix of writers and politicians from across the political spectrum — everyone from Charlton Heston to Christopher Hitchens proclaimed themselves fans. If I was inclined to be cynical I might argue that this book is mostly O’Brian playing to the gallery, without any clear sense of how these novels ought to be concluded. 

The parts where the author seems to be having the most fun are the novel’s idle moments; I don’t believe these books have ever seen so many comfortable dinners with shipmates or cushy evenings at Blacks club as there are described here. And how interesting that these are not comfortable dinners spent at home with family, but semi-formal occasions with colleagues. This, perhaps, is where the author really feels at ease. Even though we spend many pages in England in this book, there’s a haunting sense throughout of being perpetually at a slight discomfort at home. To some extent that was always the case — O’Brian always did stress the escapist quality of the naval career as paramount to the happiness of his heroes — but now this is tinged with a strange melancholy as it becomes clear that we can never spend a lifetime fleeing from life as part of a family. 

[pink-valkyrie]

Arrival of Serena Vega (Bnha)

Brushing my lilac colored hair aside and rubbing my pale blue eyes, I departed the plane incredibly jet-lagged. I couldn’t help but feel a nervous excitement spreading throughout my body. I did it!  I thought. I had made it to Japan, my next destination and the very reason for my move UA High. That’s right, all this way for a chance of becoming a pro-hero. Grabbing my bag I make my way out of the airport to my taxi. It’s gonna be a long ride. What’s my quirk? you ask. I might need to explain my origin for that. My name is Serena Vega. In Europe my family is known for their unique quirks. We/the women possess quirks related to mythological creatures, specifically mermaids and sirens. My quirk is a mix of both these creatures powers. My quirk allows me to breath underwater. Produce a wings on my arms like a siren or a tail where my legs are like a mermaid. I can respectively swim and fly. If I overuse these abilities if feels like I’m walking on glass or needles are sticking in my arms. I also have the ability to control/persuade people to do what I want with my voice. If I overdo it with this power my voice becomes incredibly hoarse or I lose my voice for a couple hours to a day. An like these creatures I can control the weather but it ties to my emotions oddly. Like if I want to hide or feel scared I can create a fog and disappear, or control the wind and tides if I’m angry or anxious. An totally not a power cause if it was I’d consider it lame. When I cry, I cry pearls. Yes if your financially troubled it can get you out of a tight money situation but it's often more trouble than it is worth. The pearls as you can imagine makes you an easy target for villains or it would if I didn’t learn how to fight back. My family is pretty big and diverse, but I left them all in Europe to pursue my dream. My mom is Aurora Vega a famous singer, who can read minds. My father Gabriel Vega was only a super strong  bodyguard when he met my mother, now a successful businessman. My moms, mom; Grandma Clarissa has the ability to shapeshift and foresee the future, moreso death though. Her husband, grandpa Manuel is quirkless. Together they have one other daughter, aunt Diana who can control water and also weeps pearls. They also have a son, Uncle Nicola who reads minds like mom but we don’t talk about him. He’s not dead just a really bad guy. Then we have dads parent. Granny Iara Mae Young who can create windy storms and grandpa Gavino who controls air and flies. They also had two other children besides dad. Aunt Anna who controls the weather. An the best for last,my uncle Antonio who can fly and control the wind. There it is I hear the driver say after what seems like hours. The gates of UA. pulling up to them I hand the cab driver money and make my way through the gates with my badge. I can already make out two figures approaching me one a talking white mouse and the other a tall lanky man with a long scarf. Hello I greet them, finding out the mouse is my principal Nezu. And the lanky man with dark hair is my homeroom teacher Mr.Aizawa. Nezu then asked Aizawa to escort me to the dorms and introduce me to the other students in class 1-a. As we got closer the more nervous I got. I really didn’t have many friends so I never knew how to act around people my age. It was then Aizawa spoke “Relax, My students are just like any other kid your age just a little more experienced with the world now. Kinda like you. I’m sure once you get to know them and find common ground you’ll fit right in.” I stared at him in awe. Not only for the nice and welcoming speech. “You’ve read my file?”  “Your not just a student, but my student what kind of teacher would I be if I didn’t know anything about you? I would be able to teach you.” I think that was the first time I had a real smile since I’d left the house and for the first time since then I felt like I made the right choice. “Thanks, Mr.Aizawa.” As soon as we entered through the doors, my nervous returned full force. I had actually watched the sports festival and kept up with the news. I knew a little about my classmates before I got word of which class I was going into. Aizawa then hit a button for the intercom and announced the arrival of the new classmate ‘aka you’, and said they needed to come down and meet you. You heard a rumbling of footsteps as people rushed into the common area. Standing next to Aizawa you got a glimpse of all those faces who were in a uproar about the new arrival. All except the last few students coming down the stairs. Tokoyami, Jiro, Shoji, and Bakugou. I say were since they were silenced by your teacher. “This is your new classmate Serena Vega, treat her well and stay introduce yourselves.” An with that he left. An with that the silence with it as the whole room was in a uproar. Until a certain class president got everything in order. They introduced themselves to you one by one and you greet them all politely. Then came the question portion where all wanted to know what your quirk was, with the exception of Mineta who wanted to know your measurements on top of other inappropriate things. That got him disapproval from all ends. You decided to take matters into your own hands. “Mineta-san” catching the attention of everyone as you used that tone which meant you activated your quirk. Your eyes also changed into a more vibrant blue as you spoke. “It was good meeting you and all but I think you should really go to bed.”  An with that he nodded and ascended the stairs just like you told him. Everyone was in awe, trying to figure out if he was just captivated by you or if it was your quirk. Immediately you apologized to everyone and explained alittle about what your quirk was. “I have what you call a mythological quirk. My powers are a mix of two creatures in Greek mythology a mermaid and a siren.” A mermaid most of the class understood but they looked confused at siren and what powers. With that you answered a few more questions and asked them in return, it was getting pretty late by the time everyone ate and made your way upstairs. Uraraka helped show you to your room since it was on the same floor. Tomorrow since everyone had a off day it was decided the girls rented the pool and asked if you wanted to come with them,of course the boys were coming too. You agreed. You were hopeful you’d become good friends with most of the class. Unpacking took awhile but well worth it as you set your alarm and sent an message to your family members, you drifted of to sleep to await the adventures of the upcoming day!  

[mercurygray]

So, I hear you liked TURN.

Apres the Season 4 finale, I know there’s going to be a lot of crying, and hand-wringing, and rewatching, and these are all good and proper things to do in the wake of a TV show you’ve enjoyed.

But after the smoke clears from all of that, you’re maybe going to go looking for your next 18th century fix, just something in between rewatches or while you’re trying to flesh out your next story idea. (Hey, now that we have our canon, go hog-wild on story ideas, guys, seriously.) 

So I’ve saved you some trouble and made you all a helpful list.

Obviously there are a lot of movies and TV shows out there - this is just a selection that I wish more people knew about.

Note: Everyone enjoys a show or movie for different reasons. These shows are on this list because of the time period they depict, not because of the quality of their writing, the accuracy of their history or the political nature of their content. Where I’m able to, I’ve mentioned if a book is available if you’d like to read more.

Before we get to the rest of the list, there are three excellent shows that are either currently on television or about to be very soon:

Poldark (BBC/PBS) is based on a series of books by an author named Winston Graham. It was made into a PBS series in the 70s starring Robin Ellis as the handsome Captain Poldark, who returns from the American Revolution to find his family farm in tatters and his long-time love interest married to his cousin. Drama ensues. The 70s series is worth your time, and the recent remake with Aidan Turner in the title role is also definitely worth a go. (If you like leading men who make terrible life decisions and the women who put up with them, this is totally your show.)

Harlots (Hulu) - If you really loved the TURN ladies, thought Lola and Philomena deserved more than they got, or are just interested to learn more about what life might have been like for the lower classes in London in the 1750s, have we got a deal for you. Harlots follows the lives of 18th century sex workers in this new drama, which was just recently renewed for a totally deserved second season. Female-lead ensemble drama. A little violent at points and deals with some pretty heavy-duty topics like rape, murder, and bastardy, but in a humane and understanding way. Totally bingeable.

Outlander (Starz) - Based on the wildly popular series of books by Diana Gabaldon, this time traveling drama jumps between a couple of different centuries and follows the story of Jamie and Claire, two very strong personalities trying to literally find their place in history. (Hewlett talks about the blade his grandfather picked up at Culloden; that battle forms a critical part of this show’s storyline.) It’s a real pretty show with very high production values.

And, without further ado, the rest of the list!

John Adams:  If you haven’t watched this already, do yourself a favor and go pick it up from the library. Starring Paul Giametti in the title role, this HBO miniseries follows John Adams’ role in the formation of America, through his early days in Congress up through his own presidency. As with any biographical show, characters that we know and love from other media (Rufus Sewell’s Hamilton comes to mind, but see what you think of David Morse’s Washington, too) are presented in a slightly different light and provide some food for thought about how history can be selective in how it remembers us. The costuming is great, the sets are fantastic, and the acting is first-rate.

The Patriot: An oldie but a goodie. Mel Gibson plays a highly fictionalized version of Francis Marion, the Swamp Fox while Jason Isaacs turns in a really stellar hottie we love to hate in Colonel Tavington. A little heavy-handed at times, this is a good movie to laugh over with friends.

Sons of Liberty: I’ll be really honest - for a show from the History Channel, the history on this show is pretty awful. But the cast is pretty. This one’s up to you, really. It fills a hole.

Garrow’s Law: William Garrow was a barrister and a pioneering legal mind in the 18th century, and this show (which ran for 3 seasons) is based on real Old Bailey cases and Garrow’s defenses, while also working in his fraught social life. Were you interested in learning a little more about Abe Woodhull’s erstwhile legal training? This is the show for you.

City of Vice: A miniseries that explains the origins and work of the Bow Street Runners, one of London’s first police forces.  Does a great job of opening up some of the early 18th century underside of London including a smidge of 18th century gay culture.

A Harlot’s Progress: William Hogarth was an 18th century artist, printmaker and social commentator whose “A Harlot’s Progress” famously depicts the downfall of a woman who goes into prostitution. This 2006 series explores the relationship that inspired the ‘Harlot’ piece.

The Incredible Journey of Mary Bryant: At around the same time America was busy trying to figure itself out, halfway around the world another one of Britain’s colonial possessions - Australia - was just getting started. Hundreds of convicts found themselves stuffed in ships and sent to the other side of the world - a sentence deemed almost more humane. This 2005 series with Romala Garai follows a very famous convict, Mary Bryant, and her experiences.

Banished: Another take on penal colonies in Australia. Currently available on Hulu.

Black Sails: A more recent offering from Starz, this show explores the backstory of the pirates in Robert Louis Stevenson’s Treasure Island. Lots of great representation issues, a whole lot of ‘how does your story get told’ - and there’s a real big community on Tumblr who loves it and very actively produces all kinds of fic.

Clarissa - Simcoe fans, this one is totally for you. Based on the epistolary novel by Samuel Richardson, Clarissa follows a girl of the same name as the infamous rake Lovelace tries to seduce her. Another look at what how women can be corrupted. Also, for you fandom nerds in the crowd, Lovelace was one of the first characters to inspire fix-it fic. Yes, really! Fix-it fic in the late 1700s. Lovelace is one of the original men for whom the ‘No, really, I can reform him’ trope was created. (Richardson, his creator, was so horrified by this reaction by his fans that he actually revised the book several times to try and make Lovelace even more villainous and irredeemable, with little success. Then as now, women apparently love the idea of a bad boy.)

Amazing Grace - The history of slavery in England and its colonies is complicated and nuanced; this story deals with one of the more famous names from that story, William Wilberforce, and his contribution.

Belle - Based on the true story of Dido Elizabeth Belle, the mixed race daughter of a Royal Navy Admiral. Another look at racial politics in England.

The Aristocrats - One of my all-time favorite TV miniseries and based on the nonfiction book by Stella Tilyard, this show follows the (actual, nonfictional) Lennox sisters, daughters of the Duke of Richmond as they grow up, marry, and adjust to rapid social change from the early 1700s into the 1790s.

The Duchess  - About the same time the Lennox sisters were out in society, so was Georgiana, the Duchess of Devonshire. This is based on (I’m not sure how closely) Amanda Foreman’s biography of Georgiana, one of the leading ladies of her day.

Dangerous Liasons - Another story about corruptible young women, this one has 3 very well deserved Oscars to its name and an absolutely stunning Glenn Close.

Barry Lyndon - a very evocative, sumptuous film by Stanley Kubrick. Short on action, but very, very Aesthetic, as only Kubrick can do.

The Scarlet Pimpernel - Based on the book by Baroness Orczy, The Scarlet Pimpernel is largely considered to be one of the world’s first ‘superhero with a secret identity’ stories. Sir Percy Blakeney uses his identity as a dim-witted fop to provide cover for his activities rescuing French aristocrats from the guillotine during the French Revolution. The 1982 version with Anthony Andrews and the 1999 version with Richard Grant are both a lot of fun.

Speaking of the French, where would we be without them? Our small domestic dust-up with Britain has far-reaching international consequences, setting in motion so many other social movements in Europe. The French, for instance, will have their own revolution several years after ours, which, of course, will lead to a total political shakeup ending with an artillery officer named Napoleon Bonaparte on the throne as Emperor. (You may have heard of him. He goes on to have his own series of large wars and, you know, completely changes the geo-political landscape of Europe. Like you do.)

La Revolution Francaise, filmed for the 200th anniversary of the Revolution, is available on YouTube in it’s entirety with English subtitles! Starts in 1774 and goes through the 1800s. C’est merveilleux.

Marie Antoinette - Sofia Coppola’s wild, modern romp through the life of one of the 18th century’s most notorious women. It may not be great history, but darn me if it isn’t fun to watch.

Farewell, My Queen - Another story about Marie Antoinette - this one is in French.

Nicolas Le Floch: An 18th century crime procedural set at the court of Louis XVI. The whole show is in French, so watch with subtitles, but the costumes are a lot of fun and it gives an interesting picture of the life a character like Lafayette would have left behind when he came to America. (He gets name dropped a few times, actually, though he never actually appears.)

Ekaterina: A 2014 miniseries from Russia discussing the rise of Catherine the Great, the Empress of Russia from 1762 to 1796, contemporaneous to the Revolution. The 18th century is a fascinating time in Russian history and Catherine is a really, really interesting lady. Totally go and read about her.

Anno 1790: A Swedish crime procedural set in 1790s Sweden and following Johann Däadh, a doctor recently roped into the police force. Däadh is a bit of a reformer, interested in the rights of man and giving everyone a chance to be heard. Costumes are fun, and there’s a really great slow-burn romance between two of the characters, one of whom is (gasp) married. This show only ran for one season, but it was a really, really good season.

If you’re still jonesing for period dramas after the rest of this list, here’s a lot of shows and tv series set during the Napoleonic Wars that are also totally worth your time - the Richard Sharpe miniseries, the Horatio Hornblower miniseries, the BBC’s War and Peace, Master and Commander, and then, of course, anything based on a Jane Austen novel.

Have fun!

[mmreadsbooks]

Lady Midnight (The Dark Artifices  #1), Cassandra Clare

BEWARE SPOILERS

5/5 stars

HOLY S***! OH MY GOD! I could not stop grinning/crying at the end. I honestly thought I had like 50 more pages. "Why lie?" HOLY CRAP! I really need to know what happened after that. Like, Lord of Shadows needs to pick up directly from that line. No flashback shenanigans. There were minor issues with this book, but all in all it was amazing. Amazing. I love Julian. I love that there was so much emphasis on him being a parent to his siblings. How they were his kids. I adored how Emma wasn't exactly portrayed as their parent, but Julian semi-imagined her to be. Two kids raising four others? Jeez. The whole story was interwoven so well. Like, how all the characters became important to the plot, while still leaving some room for threads to be picked up in the sequel. The inclusion of TMI and TID characters was awesome. I loved have LGBT+ characters, in addition to a character (Tiberius) who had some learning issues. How the Clave frowned upon him because he was different, just like today's world. Diego's integration into the story was kinda eh, and formed even more confusing love issues. Cristina's reason for leaving D.F. was dramatized and then the whole reason was glossed over in a few pages, and honestly, I didn't think it was a good reason for running away without confronting the issue. Cristina was presented as strong-- and a broken heart?-- that wouldn't have stopped her from confronting Diego and Jaime. Weird. Emma and Cristina's relationship was AWESOME. Emma and Julian's parabatai bond was AWESOME. I know Emma came off as the stronger one and Julian the gentler one, which is true, but you could see Emma get maternal with Tavvy and Julian be badass-- ripping the arms off the dummy. I wish there had been more characterization for the Blackthorn siblings. The only thing I know about Livvy is that she loves her brother. Dru loves horror movies. Tavvy is the baby (seven or eight?), but he seemed like he was five the whole time. Like, there was nothing special about them. Livvy, Ty, and Dru all have Marks, yet, there was never any discussion about them possibly going out on patrols or hunts. I know they are thought of as "children," but it was pointed out Dru had never killed anyone before, but Livvy and Ty were fifteen. Surely they had faced demons or downworlders before? I felt like we should have gotten a glimpse more into them as Shadowhunters, not just as siblings needed to be taken care of. MARK MARK MARK. YES MARK. But, [ Mark liking Cristina had me like... what? It was so fast and he was so feral at first. Also Kieran. Also kinda sort Emma. What? But I loved him, he was a great addition and really showcased his torture, physical and emotional, and the strength of the Blackthorn family. BUT AT THE END? Him and Kieran... hearts! They were so cute, but also when he threatened to kill him because of the whipping I LOVED HIM, and I knew he would stay. His protective nature was amazing. Even for Emma. What especially got me was the last few pages though... when he upset Ty and immediately thinks he should have returned to the hunt? Like no, you have proven yourself, stop regressing. But his mood changed so fast, he was more faerie at the end, I guess after talking to Ty. But he seemed calm when he talked to Emma and then BAM he basically wants to make out. WHAT? Yo, MALCOLM! WTF? But also, it made sense when Tavvy was taken, but, dude I feel like for all your research, you would know everyone else believed Annabel was an Iron Sister. Like, what the Blackthorn's did was TERRIBLE and I don't think it would sit well. Why would anyone cover that up? Also, that epilogue with [ that weirdo Katherine Pierce, just kidding, Annabel waking up. Yo, how did the ritual complete itself? I feel like this isn't good. Is she gonna be evil or be like oh, Malcolm, these kids did nothing wrong why did you try to kill them? But I feel like evil... ALSO is Malcolm really dead? All the spells lifted... but Tessa and Jem need to GET THAT BOOK. Tessa and Jem and Emma at the end was awesome. I knew Kit would somehow be important, and I was hoping it would be revealed what Jessa was doing. BUT DANG, that was mentioned in Shadowhunter Academy and now we get some answers. Very exciting... a new player in the Institute. There are so many more characters than in TMI and TID. Also, Ty, Livvy, and Tavvy all confused me in the beginning because they all use similar letters. T's and V's. SOS- send help. Also also, I felt like Cameron should have shown up other than the two pages in the beginning since he was a part of Emma's life for so long. But, there were already too many characters, so... It just felt weird that he kept getting mentioned but I had nothing to really characterize him as-- it felt weird for me. DIANA???? I feel like she would want to be the head of the Institute and more involved in the Blackthorn's lives. Why is she BFFs with Catarina Loss and hanging out in Thailand? Also, who is running her shop in Idris (Real questions). Emma and Julian at the end though. The answer to why parabatai can't fall in love didn't surprise me at all. I knew it couldn't be really out of the box, which it wasn't. But... it still hurt. And especially since it led to the "Why Lie?" I CAN'T WAIT FOR THE NEXT BOOK. "A Long Conversation" Review Super short, super cute. Was not expecting Simon and Isabelle to be the couple getting engaged first. But the ending? And, "When they returned, she would have to give him her answer. She dreaded it." WHAT? Why dread. You've been dating for five years, are clearly endgame, and are everything to each other. CLARISSA ADELE MORGENSTERN/FAIRCHILD, WHY DON'T YOU WANT TO MARRY JACE HERONDALE/LIGHTWOOD/MORGENSTERN/WAYLAND? Are you worried about picking a last name? Ugh. I just don't get it. I hope we get more answers about this in Lord of Shadows,yet, I hope there's no angst. The TMI couples have been through enough, I thought we established healthy, long-term relationships. It's just frustrating.

[marginalgloss]

her gravity

The Commodore by Patrick O’Brian represents a sort of homecoming for its characters, and a significant promotion for one of them. It is here that Jack Aubrey is given a promotion and put in charge of a squadron of ships with two aims: the first being to damage and disrupt the African slave trade (then only recently made illegal in England), and the second to stop a French squadron landing troops in Ireland. It has been several books since Jack and Stephen were back in England, and a certain amount has changed in their absence. There is still the shadow of a conspiracy around them both, one which reaches into the most remote branches of the aristocracy. Closer to home, Jack’s wife Sophie has been getting a little too friendly with the local reverend. And Stephen’s wife is still conspicuously absent. 

On the whole this is a solid, well-balanced instalment in this series. The author’s prose is in fine form; limpid, smooth, and always a pleasure to read. And for the most part it is all very laid-back. The plot is not really a central driver of interest here. The mission against the slave trade is well within Aubrey’s abilities, and Maturin is never seriously threatened by the dark forces supposedly mustered against him. We can also be fairly certain that O’Brian won’t rewrite history to the degree of inventing a successful French invasion of Ireland. But it is full of charming period detail, pleasant little set pieces, and delightful incident on a smaller scale. 

It might be the most fun I’ve had with one of these books for a while. I loved the little flashback to a duel between Aubrey and his old pal Heneage Dundas (‘Half a dozen passes, the blades clashing, and when Jack cried out ‘Oh Hen, what have you done?’ Dundas gazed for a moment at the spurting blood, burst into tears, whipped off his shirt and bound up the wound as best he could.’). As ever the scenes in England on Aubrey’s little estate are gentle, knockabout fun. Even a gloomy dinner between Maturin and Joseph Blaine is punctuated by little moments of levity (‘Even in spite of my boiled fowl and my pint of claret and your company I find my spirits much oppressed.’) 

But I think it is in this book that O’Brian’s affection for Irishry turns a little strange. It starts to seem less like cultural flavour, and more like cultish preoccupation. We are introduced to the daughter of Maturin and his wife Diana; in a faintly gothic image, he finds the young girl living alone in the care of Clarissa Oakes, who we last met in the novel of that name. Oakes is alone and somewhat disgraced in the eyes of the local community, while Diana seems to have effectively abandoned her child altogether. When we meet the girl, Brigid, she is almost entirely mute. She is polite and mannered to excess but entirely uninterested in adult affairs. It is only when she is introduced to Stephen’s Irish servant Padeen that her father discovers she is capable of open communication:

‘The paper dropped from [Stephen’s] hand. It was exactly as though he had heard a faint childish voice cry ‘Twelve!’ or something very like it. Twelve in Irish, of course. With the utmost caution he stood up and set his door on the jar, with a book either side to prevent it moving. ‘For shame, Breed, honey,’ said Padeen, ‘it is a dó dhéag you must say. Listen, sweetheart, listen again will you now? A haon, a dó, a trí, a ceathir, a cúig, a sé, a seacht, a hocht, a naoi, a deich, a haon déag, a dó dhéag, with a noise like yia, yia. Now, a haon, a dó …’ The little high voice piped, ‘A haon, a dó … ’ and so right through to ‘a dó dhéag,’ which she said with just Padeen’s Munster intonation. ‘There’s a golden lamb, God and Mary and Patrick bless you,’ said Padeen kissing her. ‘Now let you throw the hoop on the four, which will make twelve altogether so it will too: since eight and four is twelve for evermore.’

She will only speak in Gaelic, though it’s unclear how she ever learned it. Brigid has had a difficult upbringing, though we only hear of it second-hand. It is evident that she’s suffered most of all at the hands of Aubrey’s mother-in-law, Mrs Williams. That lady is perhaps the most direct subject of the author’s contempt here; one need only look at how Mrs Williams describes her preferred approach to Brigid (‘...a good shaking, the black hole, bread and water and perhaps the whip answer very well and at no cost...’). Today we might say Brigid has Asperger’s or some degree of autism. But what is evident above all is that she is in many ways the perfect child in relation to Maturin. In her eyes, she is idealised. Well, of course she is — she’s his daughter. 

Still, the novel seems to place her on a small pedestal in a way that feels uncanny. At one point Stephen says that in Ireland those like her are known as ‘leanaí sídhe’, and it often seems like the book cleaves too closely to that vision of he as a magical, special creature. She doesn’t really feel like a real child. Certainly she has moments of wonder (as when she is first taken to sea, to go with Clarissa to spend time with the nuns in Spain). But she is not at all messy, rough, or uncouth. To Maturin, all these things are distasteful in the extreme (in spite of his own personal shabbiness). She has all of her father’s fascination with the natural world, and his affinity for animals, and at times she often seems like a nascent, underdeveloped female version of Stephen. I like this moment where he notices that in spite of her implacable reserve, she is not incapable of affection: 

‘An ancient white-muzzled kitchen dog shuffled in after them and the first relief to Stephen’s quite extraordinary pain – extraordinary in that he had never known any of the same nature or the same intensity – came when the old dog sniffed at the back of Brigid’s leg and without stopping her left hand’s delicate motion she reached down with the other to scratch his forehead, while something of pleasure showed through her gravity.’

I suspect Stephen hopes that one day he too might be the recipient of head-scratches. After all, his life has been devoid of direct affection for quite a long time. At sea he is widely liked but not often received with much intimacy; most of the sailors respect him rather than welcome him. Clarissa was fond of him but it was never exactly reciprocal. There is Jack, of course, but for the course of this novel Jack is necessarily busy with the business of being a Commodore. And Diana is once again entirely absent from this book. She is mentioned only in rumour by the other characters: she has been gambling, buying and selling horses, and perhaps having affairs. Though we spend quite a bit of time in England, she never appears in this book until the final lines. 

Given that Diana’s been afforded so few pages in these novels so far, I shouldn’t find this surprising. But it does seem like an inexplicable way of passing an opportunity, and it left me with the sense of a great deal being swept under the rug. It is a difficult situation, and this author’s way of dealing with really difficult situations is to not deal with them at all. Instead, they will be handled off stage (in cases of spectacular confrontation), or the question will be fudged to make it seem as though there was never really any problem. 

The solution here to Maturin’s family life is a combination of both. Diana is conveniently absent, so we don’t have to deal with the problem of her; and the emergence of Brigid turns out to be purely delightful. Mrs Williams and her ilk are easily swept aside. But there’s something that creaks uncomfortably underfoot throughout all this. It is hard not to feel the Irish flair becoming something of a fetish here, and harder still to shake the sense that this stems from the author’s own curious affinity for Ireland.

The afterword to my edition still makes vague mention of the author’s ‘peripatetic Anglo–Irish childhood’, but it is now generally quite well known that O’Brian invented both an Irish surname and an Irish childhood for himself. It might be real affection, but it seems to have been based on an idealised version of that nation, not from his own personal history with it. In later years it became apparent that he either fictionalised or concealed a certain amount of his early life, and despite the efforts of two biographers, much about him still seems obscure. 

Perhaps, in the end, the biographies didn’t help at all; the broader question of how his work might relate to his own family experiences is too contentious to be a serious matter for debate. Does it really matter if any of this is inauthentic? Perhaps it does: a post-colonial reading might consider it a sort of appropriation. There is something overly comforting in that perpetual image here of the Irishman (a republican) and the Englishman (a High Tory) arm in arm, fighting the greater fight. Much difficult history is glossed over in this regard. One might take a hard look at the sequence late in this novel where Stephen talks down the Irish locals from raiding a beached French ship to take their weapons. I feel like we would have seen more than a little conflict in his mind regarding such moments in earlier novels; now he is quicker to reconcile the correct thing to do, and the English thing to do, in the same thought.

Perhaps it is all very fanciful. Perhaps this is what prevents O’Brian from becoming a really first-rate novelist. And yet I’m willing to tolerate a certain amount of fancy from my reading. As we’ve seen throughout the theme of leaving one’s responsibilities on shore and lighting out for the territory has been a consistent one throughout these novels. Why should their approach to the those ultimate matters of family be any different? Why should an author not allow their characters a certain measure of the happiness that perhaps they would be denied outside the sheltered pages of a book?  

‘…She herself was well, mildly happy, reading as she had not read for years, and she liked the nuns’ singing: sometimes she went with Padeen (who sent his duty) to the Benedictine church for the plainchant. Enclosed was a small square piece of paper, not over-clean, with a drawing of a wolf with teeth and some words that Stephen could not make out until he realized that they were Irish written phonetically: O my father fare well Brigid.’

[marginalgloss]

every rope an end

‘The wake stretched away, as true as a taut line now, and after a while he said, ‘He longed for a daughter, I know, and it is very well that he should have one; but I wish she may not prove a platypus to him,’ and he might have added some considerations on marriage and the relations, so often unsatisfactory, between men and women, parents and children, had not Davidge’s voice called out, ‘Every rope an-end,’ cutting the thread of his thought.’

It’s hard to put my finger on a single thing which, for me, makes Clarissa Oakes the weakest instalment so far in Patrick O’Brian’s series of historical novels. It is in many ways the most typical one yet: the one which bears most boldly every trace of his style. But it’s also where all his deficiencies become most apparent. 

As usual, the story picks up almost exactly where the last book left off: with Maturin getting stung by a duck-billed platypus, and Jack Aubrey sailing away from the grim confines of New South Wales towards South America. Their long-postponed mission to Peru is about to be put off once again, first by a twist of fate and then by a new task. Firstly, Jack discovers that a woman has stowed away aboard the surprise: she is Clarissa Harvill, a fugitive from the colonies in a relationship with one of his officers, Oakes. And then he is given a new task: to visit Moahu, a tiny island not far from what is now known as Hawaii, and to settle a dispute between local rulers in favour of the British. 

For a long time the novel is most notable for its total lack of explicit drama. Jack’s annoyance at the presence of a woman on board is emphasised constantly, but it is never really permitted to boil over. All we get is pages of pettiness: smirks and sniggering behind his back, and once or twice punishments that are modest by the standards of the navy. Even the question of what should be done with Clarissa is somewhat sidestepped. There’s a great sequence where Aubrey makes a sort of show out of pretending to sail up to a deserted island to drop her and Oakes off there; how convenient that their boats cannot find a safe space to land. 

Part of this deception is because he understands that he has to be seen by the crew to be doing something, but to punish them too hard would be regarded as insufferable hypocrisy. As Stephen points out: ‘…the service is a sounding-box in which tales echo for ever, and it is perfectly well known throughout the ship that when you were about Oakes’ age you were disrated and turned before the mast for hiding a girl in that very part of the ship.’ And so he takes the only other honourable option open to him: he marries the couple on board.

Except that this is not the end of the deceit. After many pages of slow and sometimes interminable travel, it becomes increasingly apparent that Clarissa has been sleeping around below decks. The reader is never permitted to see any of this directly. As so often in O’Brian, much of the real action happens off stage. We only hear about it in drips of information — first through Maturin’s suspicions about the strange behaviour of the crew, and eventually through his confidential (but chaste) exchanges with Clarissa. It is not long before a sort of tribalism emerges amongst the officers and seamen; every myth about women acting as a disruptive influence on an all-male crew is proved to be worthwhile.

Clarissa herself is sometimes intriguing but ultimately insubstantial. For too long we know nothing about her, except that she is good looking enough to turn heads. And when she does tell her story, it is tragic, but tragic is all it is: it’s a grim retread of every story of every fallen woman from that era. (That she shares the name with the protagonist of Samuel Richardson’s eighteenth century novel is almost certainly not a coincidence.) She has a certain endearing independence, but none of the stage presence of Diana Viliers or Sophie. For most of the book she is simply a cipher for femininity.  

And I was troubled by the novel’s diagnosis that the root of Clarissa’s promiscuity is in her abusive childhood, where she was so often the victim of rape that sex ceased to have any meaning for her. Here she is describing her later life, working in a brothel: 

‘…it has a certain likeness to being at sea: you live a particular life, with your own community, but it is not the life of the world in general and you tend to lose touch with the world in general’s ideas and language – all sorts of things like that, so that when you go out you are as much a stranger as a sailor is on shore. Not that I had much notion of the world in general anyhow, the ordinary normal adult world, never having really seen it. I tried to make it out by novels and plays, but that was not much use: they all went on to such an extent about physical love, as though everything revolved about it, whereas for me it was not much more important than blowing my nose – chastity or unchastity neither here nor there – absurd to make fidelity a matter of private parts: grotesque.’

Parts of this bring to mind the old idiom that everything looks like a nail when all you have is a hammer. This notion of ‘the world in general’ strikes me as oddly anachronistic for the early nineteenth century: such was the diversity of standards of living at that time that I doubt Stephen would have recognised any such thing. And there’s something dismissive of the actuality of sex about this, I think: the author is not especially interested in what happened to Clarissa, more in looking at her as another example of an alienated soul, living out of time, at large in the world. 

Except in her case it is a dismissiveness that’s consistent with the vague sense of contempt so often evident in O’Brian’s work for the sexual impulse in general. So often in this books there is the sense of passion as something dangerous, even monstrous, in human nature; something that must be controlled at all costs. Maturin is the exemplar of this, whereas Jack is the exception that proves the rule — in moral terms, O’Brian allows him certain urges, even to sleep around on his voyages, so long as it occurs in the wider context of maintaining his life as an officer and a married father. In a certain light he has something of the bearing of a prize steer.

There is still a great deal to enjoy in Clarissa Oakes. The dialogue is frequently delightful — some of the author’s best — and as always, there’s a plethora of interest to be found in the minor details of the text. I especially enjoy the dark joke hidden in the novel’s alternate American title of The Truelove; this is a book entirely without romance, and the ship of that name is only a beat-up old whaler of negligible interest. Yet most of this is incidental. This is the first book in this series where I was expecting something more which never came.