"Devil's Cub", Georgette Heyer
7 May 2020 02:43 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
igenlodeThis is not a romance (certainly not a 'Regency Romance' as branded by modern-day genre fiction). It's a rollicking romantic comedy/adventure, and a highly-literate spoof of the bodice-ripper genre, in which the author highlights the practical drawbacks of hysterical heroines, cross-Channel abductions (plans for seduction are scuppered by seasickness) and brooding and bad-tempered Byronic antiheroes. Practical, clear-sighted Mary Challoner, who is often made very afraid or uncomfortable but does not permit herself the luxury of dramatics, is a refreshingly unusual protagonist, and we gradually come to see that Vidal, who at first glance appears a figure of wild romance, has an equally pragmatic and realistic streak that makes them unexpectedly well-matched; he has no use for fainting damsels or flights of fancy, and his dealings with his overimaginative cousin Juliana form an entertaining and instructive contrast for both of them. And to be honest, I have to say it's refreshing for once to see a Ruthless Seducer who doesn't spend all his time threatening without ever actually constituting a threat: Vidal's methods are succinct, convincing, and direct, and the heroine's virtue is defended not by conveniently extended plot devices but by immediate action.
(It struck me for the first time on re-reading how much of the plot hangs on Mary's ignorance of the fact that Vidal is fleeing the country; she assumes that he will continue to pursue Sophia unless actively repelled, whereas in fact if Mary had simply destroyed or suppressed the misdirected letter, she would have been rid of him without any difficulty at all!)
Most unusually for Heyer, the book is a sequel to the wildly successful "These Old Shades", and focuses almost as much on the antics of characters from the previous generation as on the nominal romantic leads; we get to see the irrepressible Léonie in her forties, as a delightful mixture of matron and tomboy, and madcap Rupert in irresponsible middle age. (I admit to a twinge of matchmaking regret at the discovery that he apparently never settled down and married, though I suppose it would have interfered with the plot here if he had had family responsibilities...) The Duke of Avon, the most potent character in the preceding book, is kept largely off the scenes in what is probably a conscious decision to prevent his stealing the entire novel (as the character had already done in his original incarnation as the antagonist of "The Black Moth"), only to make an entry when least anticipated, to triumphant effect.
(I'm afraid the Devil's Cub simply isn't a rival to his progenitor, either in terms of charisma or intelligence; Vidal is bad-tempered and often alarmingly competent, but Avon is brilliant, dangerous and mesmerising, and there is never any doubt as to who is the master in the scenes between them - just as it should be. Under tutelage from Avon, I can see Mary having her impetuous husband entirely under control in no short time; there's a sense, I think, in which he recognises her as the daughter he would have liked to have had.)
But it's a tribute to Heyer that she manages to develop depth in Vidal beyond the 'bad-boy glamour' of his introduction and make him into a sympathetic character capable of displaying good sense as well as impulsive temper and jealousy. Frederick Comyn forms an interesting foil for the character as well; at first glance, we assume he is simply the boring, ineligible suitor, but he displays unexpected depths of resource as well as fair play... and then unexpected romantic vulnerabilities and illusions for someone so outwardly staid. By the end of the book we are convinced that the couples are matched up correctly - though I must admit that on first reading I hoped Heyer would breach convention and allow Mary a successful conclusion to her repeated attempts at escape rather than milking the Hate to Love trope, simply because it is so much overdone in fiction! (I had the same reaction to "Regency Buck".). But in a sense, thanks to Avon, she does.
As I said at the start, this book isn't really setting out to be a romance so much as a comedy of high adventure and misunderstandings; it's not as laugh-out-loud hilarious as "These Old Shades" can be, but there's a good deal of wry humour and a few scenes of overt chuckles where the forthright Léonie is concerned. "These Old Shades" is one of my favourites, but "Devil's Cub" is a not-unworthy follow-up... which is more than can be said, alas, for Mary and Vidal's cameo reappearance at the end of "An Infamous Army", where they might as well be different characters.
It's interesting to note the differing historical detail from the Regency novels, set a couple of generations later; the costumes here are the ones being laughed at as old-fashioned (along with the custom of hair-powder) by the younger generation, and the society shown is the profligate aristocracy to which some of Heyer's formidable and forthright matrons would compare their 'mealy-mouthed' descendants unfavourably. Note that (unknown to the characters) we are, of course, crossing the Channel to a pre-Revolutionary France!
(It struck me for the first time on re-reading how much of the plot hangs on Mary's ignorance of the fact that Vidal is fleeing the country; she assumes that he will continue to pursue Sophia unless actively repelled, whereas in fact if Mary had simply destroyed or suppressed the misdirected letter, she would have been rid of him without any difficulty at all!)
Most unusually for Heyer, the book is a sequel to the wildly successful "These Old Shades", and focuses almost as much on the antics of characters from the previous generation as on the nominal romantic leads; we get to see the irrepressible Léonie in her forties, as a delightful mixture of matron and tomboy, and madcap Rupert in irresponsible middle age. (I admit to a twinge of matchmaking regret at the discovery that he apparently never settled down and married, though I suppose it would have interfered with the plot here if he had had family responsibilities...) The Duke of Avon, the most potent character in the preceding book, is kept largely off the scenes in what is probably a conscious decision to prevent his stealing the entire novel (as the character had already done in his original incarnation as the antagonist of "The Black Moth"), only to make an entry when least anticipated, to triumphant effect.
(I'm afraid the Devil's Cub simply isn't a rival to his progenitor, either in terms of charisma or intelligence; Vidal is bad-tempered and often alarmingly competent, but Avon is brilliant, dangerous and mesmerising, and there is never any doubt as to who is the master in the scenes between them - just as it should be. Under tutelage from Avon, I can see Mary having her impetuous husband entirely under control in no short time; there's a sense, I think, in which he recognises her as the daughter he would have liked to have had.)
But it's a tribute to Heyer that she manages to develop depth in Vidal beyond the 'bad-boy glamour' of his introduction and make him into a sympathetic character capable of displaying good sense as well as impulsive temper and jealousy. Frederick Comyn forms an interesting foil for the character as well; at first glance, we assume he is simply the boring, ineligible suitor, but he displays unexpected depths of resource as well as fair play... and then unexpected romantic vulnerabilities and illusions for someone so outwardly staid. By the end of the book we are convinced that the couples are matched up correctly - though I must admit that on first reading I hoped Heyer would breach convention and allow Mary a successful conclusion to her repeated attempts at escape rather than milking the Hate to Love trope, simply because it is so much overdone in fiction! (I had the same reaction to "Regency Buck".). But in a sense, thanks to Avon, she does.
As I said at the start, this book isn't really setting out to be a romance so much as a comedy of high adventure and misunderstandings; it's not as laugh-out-loud hilarious as "These Old Shades" can be, but there's a good deal of wry humour and a few scenes of overt chuckles where the forthright Léonie is concerned. "These Old Shades" is one of my favourites, but "Devil's Cub" is a not-unworthy follow-up... which is more than can be said, alas, for Mary and Vidal's cameo reappearance at the end of "An Infamous Army", where they might as well be different characters.
It's interesting to note the differing historical detail from the Regency novels, set a couple of generations later; the costumes here are the ones being laughed at as old-fashioned (along with the custom of hair-powder) by the younger generation, and the society shown is the profligate aristocracy to which some of Heyer's formidable and forthright matrons would compare their 'mealy-mouthed' descendants unfavourably. Note that (unknown to the characters) we are, of course, crossing the Channel to a pre-Revolutionary France!
