This review contains some spoilersI know from reading Jennifer Kloester’s excellent biography of Georgette Heyer* that A Civil Contract was not an easy novel for Heyer to write. Before starting work on it, Heyer wrote to a friend that she wanted to write a new kind of novel that would be “neither farcical nor adventurous”. Heyer wrote that the novel would depend for its success on whether she could make the hero as charming as she believed him to be and also on whether she “could make a quiet story interesting”. (Kloester p 330). However, completion of the novel was delayed because Heyer’s mother became ill and required care. When she went back to writing it, she wrote to her friend that the manuscript remainedmuch where it was – & where it ought to be is in an incinerator & would be if I hadn’t pledged myself to write it. To be honest with you, I do not want to write this book. Or any other book. I have no inspiration, no energy, no enthusiasm, & no power-of-the-pen! I sit & look at the bloody thing, & wonder what can have possessed me to embark on it.I am very glad that Heyer overcame writer’s block and completed the novel. For while I probably wouldn’t have thought much of it if I’d read it when I first discovered Heyer’s novels at age fourteen, having read it for the first time forty years later I think it is one of her best works. This is the story of Adam Deveril, Viscount Lynton, who fought in the Peninsular War. Returning to England after his father’s death, Adam finds that his father’s extravagant spending has reduced the family fortune to a pittance. Adam’s financial situation is so dire that if he doesn't find a way to acquire money, he will be unable to support his sister and, crucially, he will have to sell the family home. All of this means that Adam cannot marry his beloved, Julia Oversley. In order to save the family estate, Adam agrees to contract a marriage of convenience with plain and practical Jenny, daughter of the fabulously wealthy but vulgar merchant, Jonathan Chawleigh, who wants his daughter to achieve the social status that marriage into an aristocratic family will bring. Jenny, who is an old school friend of Julia’s, marries Adam knowing that he continues to love Julia. They have a child, Adam manages to win back some of his fortune through speculation and they ultimately settle down to a happy and comfortable – if not passionate –life together. Heyer did manage to achieve something different with this novel. While it doesn't have the sparkling comedy or wit of many of her other novels, it does have other qualities. At its heart, the novel is an exploration of what makes a successful marriage. And Heyer’s conclusion is that it’s not blinding, heart-stopping passion which makes a relationship last, but friendship, kindness, tolerance, patience, a commitment to the same goals and a shared sense of humour. That’s not something I would have understood or appreciated as a teenager. As someone who has been happily married to the same person for almost thirty-five years, it's now a message that rings true.** That’s not to say that there’s anything wrong with a bit of blinding, heart-stopping passion in a marriage. And this is why there’s an undertone of sadness in the final paragraphs of the novel, as Jenny, while assured of Adam’s love for her, is nevertheless conscious that she had had an “impractical dream” of inspiring in Adam the “passionate adoration” that he had felt for Julia. However, Jenny is right in concluding that “life [is] not made up of moments of exaltation, but of quite ordinary, everyday things”, which are “not very romantic, but … really much more important than grand passions or blighted loves”.Of all Heyer’s novels, A Civil Contract owes the most to Jane Austen. Indeed, it can be read as a tribute to Austen in general and to Sense and Sensibility in particular. Heyer establishes the link to Sense and Sensibility very early on, by describing Jenny as someone who “looked as though she had more sense than sensibility”. Shortly thereafter, Jenny says that she is reading a book which is “by the author of Sense and Sensibility”. Jenny remarks that she liked Sense and Sensibility, although Julia “thought it too humdrum”. It’s not surprising that Julia thought Sense and Sensibility humdrum, because Julia is very much like Marianne Dashwood, in both temperament and in fate. (She eventually acquires an older suitor who knows that she loves another man). Indeed, the novel can be read as what would have happened if Willoughby had married a rich but physically unattractive woman a lot like Elinor Dashwood in temperament, while still having to see Marianne socially. For Jenny has a lot in common with Elinor: she’s sensible, competent, practical and puts other people’s needs – well, Adam’s needs, anyway – ahead of her own. She’s also a little like Fanny Price from Mansfield Park (another novel which Jenny is reported as having read), but only insofar as she is in love with a man she knows loves another woman. Adam’s character can be distinguished from that of Willoughby, though. He is not a cad and while selfish and at times insensitive, he is mostly aware of his faults and makes some effort to overcome them. Of all Adam's shortcomings the worst is probably that he doesn't realise that Jenny actually loves him, and is not just sensible and kind.The parallels to Austen added a lot to my enjoyment of this novel. However, there’s more to it than that. Adam and Jenny are interesting characters in their own right. Jonathan Chawleigh is a masterpiece. (Heyer wrote that he “continually tried to steal the whole book, & had to be firmly pushed off the stage”. Kloester page 334). Adam’s sister Lydia is enchanting and his annoying mother and overbearing aunt are a lot of fun. The novel also benefits from its historical setting. Heyer sets the narrative at the time of the premature celebrations that followed the initial defeat of Napoleon in 1814 and the financial panic which preceded the victory at Waterloo the following year. Her research is excellent and historical detail is conveyed in an unforced manner, without resorting to the dreaded information dump. While my fourteen-year-old self would not have appreciated this novel to the extent it deserves, my adult self appreciates it a lot. And while I rather wish I’d read it some years ago, I’m very glad that I've finally done so. This was another enjoyable buddy read with my friend Jemidar.*Georgette Heyer: Biography of a Bestseller** ETA: I don't mean to imply that these factors are a substitute for love in a successful relationship. Rather, they are an important part of what constitutes love.
This is the only Heyer novel I've read where the hero and leading lady develop a lasting relationship based on love rather than being in love. It makes sense to me that he becomes attached to her as a result of a series of loving actions. (As part of my Catholic upbringing, I was taught that love is about what we do, rather than what we feel. :-)) In fact, she made him love her; he didn't wanna do it; he didn't wanna do it. He has no romantic notions about her, and she has to relinquish her ssecret romantic notions about him. None the less, we know by the end that they'll live happily ever after. As sometimes happens, the supporting characters are more interesting, like her vulgar, upwardly mobile, upstart father who thinks he can buy pretty much everything, and his toxic narcissist of a mother. Bring them all together and watch hilarity ensue. But they're a little sad, and we know it.With every will in the world to talk pleasantly to him, an over-delicate refinement made Charlotte regard him with much the same nervous surprise as she would have felt at being addressed by an aboriginal. Mr Chawleigh's manner with young females was jocular and paternal. He was convinced that they liked to be comlimented on their looks, and quizzed about their beaux; but his compliments made Charlotte blush; and when he made a sly reference to her approaching nuptials, prophesying that there would be a score of broken hearts when the news was made public, she raised her eyes in astonishment to his face, unable to conceal how little to her taste was this ponderous gallantry.And about the happy ever after, Abigail...He took her face between his hands, turning it up, and looking down at her for a moment before he kissed her. 'I do love you, Jenny,' he said gently. 'Very much indeed- and I couldn't do without you. You are a part of my life. Julia was never that- only a boy's impractical dream!'And a page or so later...Yet, after all, Jenny thought that she had been granted more than she had hoped for when she had married him. He did love her: differently, but perhaps more enduringly; and he had grown to depend on her. She thought that they would have many years of quiet content: never reaching the heights, but living together in comfort and deepening friendship. Well, you can't have it both ways, she thought, and I couldn't live in alt all the time, so I daresay I'm better off as things are. Sounds good to me.:-)
What do You think about A Civil Contract (2005)?
This is a different sort of Georgette Heyer novel. It's almost an anti-romance, where instead of falling deeply in love, our hero and heroine settle for good enough. It's an interesting plot variation.We have a heroine who isn't a beauty, and whose many self-deprecating comments are not contradicted by her friends, who perhaps see no reason to deny an obvious lack of advantage. We have a hero who is infuriating not because he's an arrogant ass in the mold of Mr. Darcy, but because he is kind and considerate and can't truly be faulted for not being in love with his wife.The prose is lovely, as usual: long, complex sentences with plenty of semi-colons, and dialog liberally sprinkled with exclamation points and Regency slang. There are moments of quiet humor, but it's not as funny as many of Heyer's books.This is very readable, but it isn't one of my favorites. There's something a little off about the interaction between the couple. Particularly the hero's endearments come off as condescending since there's relatively little intimacy between them.
—Jamie
For me, Heyer books are all about discovering character through dialogue, and this is just as rich as the others. Right now, though, I've been reading to see how she uses history in her stories, and this one is a little weaker in that respect--the details are sharp as ever but they don't really mean much to the story or push the characters' growth. This story could have been told anytime in wartime when the stock market is volatile.When Jenny becomes pregnant (a logical event when one marries to continue a dynasty), I was shocked. The couple still spoke to one another at such a remove that I couldn't imagine they had ever shared "pillow talk." Also, for me, Dev came off as yet another selfish, self-satisfied protagonist while Jenny, a strong woman, seemed to be using her strength to convert herself into a dishrag.The "love the one you're with" story is tricky in romance; I'm glad she went for it with such honesty. I wish we (as romance writers and readers) would allow ourselves the same range these days.
—Nicky Penttila
I am going to gush.I've read a lot of Georgette Heyer - as the originator of the regency romance, she is a hugely influential author. She is a talented, careful writer with a flair for comedy, and some of her best books are also some of her funniest.A Civil Contract is a departure from her usual formula, and it knocked my socks off. It begins with Adam Deveril being forced to return home from his position in the Army, as his spendthrift father has unexpectedly died in a riding accident, and he has inherited Fontley, the rapidly deteriorating family seat, and a whole pile of debt incurred by his improvident parent. I'm sure he intended to remake the family fortunes, if he could step away from the gaming table/horse races long enough to stop losing money, but whatevs, dad. Way to go.Adam is most definitely not cut from same cloth as his father, though they may share a tailor. He is a clear-eyed realist with some actual scruples, and it becomes apparent that Fontley is going to have to be sold to pay for the debts left behind when dad kicked off the mortal coil. His business manager is relieved to note that Adam doesn't seem to have many illusions about winning back the family fortunes on the turn of a card, but isn't thrilled to see the family seat go out of the family, and suggests that Adam look about for an heiress to marry.Adam, on the other hand, is deeply infatuated with the sylph-like Julia Oversley, this year's most popular and sought after debutante. And Julia reciprocates these affections. He realizes that he can't marry Julia, given that once Fontley is sold he will quite literally not even have a pot to pee in, but in the interests of love, he is going to sacrifice himself on the altar of bachelorhood.And then he meets Jonathan Chawleigh, a wealthy Cit whose made his fortune in trade. Here there be cashflow. Chawleigh has no illusions about Adam being likely to fall in love with his daughter, the ordinary Jenny, but that's all right with him. He wants Jenny to marry into a social class to which he himself will never gain entry. While he was hoping for an Earl, Adam, a mere Viscount, will do.He meets Jenny. Small, a bit plump, with a short neck, she is no Julia. But they get on, a bit, and agree to marry."He was obliged to master an impulse to retreat, and to tell himself that her acceptance of the proposed match was no more coldblooded than his own.He was quite as pale as she, and he replied, in a strained voice: ‘Miss Chawleigh, if you feel that you could bear it I shall count myself fortunate. I won’t offer you false coin. To make the sort of protestations natural to this occasion would be to insult you, but you may believe me sincere when I say that if you do me the honour to marry me I shall try to make you happy.’She got up. ‘I shall be. Don’t think of that! I don’t wish you to try to – Only to be comfortable! I hope I can make you so: I’ll do my best. And you’ll tell me what you wish me to do – or if I do something you don’t like – won’t you?’"And so it begins. They marry, and try to make a life together. There are several times in this book where my heart just broke for Jenny. She is obviously in love with Adam - she had been friendly with Julia and had met him while he danced attendance on her much prettier friend. But she is wise beyond her years, and realizes that while she cannot compete with Julia in looks or fairylike appeal, she is married to him, and Julia is not. She sets out to make a place for herself the only way she knows how: by becoming the mistress of Fontley, by not complaining if he is late, by making sure he has his tea how he likes it. If this sounds like Jenny is masquerading as a Golden Retriever, well, I can understand that. But that's not how it felt. It felt wise. And generous.And, in the end, Jenny shows herself to be a better person, and a better wife, than the immature and self-centered Julia would have been. Speaking to Julia as she makes the claim that it is Jenny who has gained the most as a result of the marriage, Adam says:"He did not answer for a moment, and then he said gently: ‘I owe Jenny a great deal, you know. She studies all the time to please me, never herself. Our marriage – isn’t always easy, for either of us, but she tries to make it so, and behaves more generously than I do. Given her so much! You know better than to say that, my dear! I had nothing to give her but a title – and I wonder sometimes if she sets any more store by that than you would."Finally, charmingly, convincingly, Adam falls in love with "his Jenny," not in the infatuated way that a callow youth loves a lovely girl, but with gentle and real commitment:"Yet, after all, Jenny thought that she had been granted more than she had hoped for when she had married him. He did love her: differently, but perhaps more enduringly; and he had grown to depend on her. She thought that they would have many years of quiet content: never reaching the heights, but living together in comfort and deepening friendship. Well, you can’t have it both ways, she thought, and I couldn’t live in alt all the time, so I daresay I’m better off as things are."And so, Heyer convinces me that, in the end, they will be a truly happy couple. Adam will fondly remember his brief but passionate love for Julia. But he will always come home to Jenny, because she, as it turns out, is the love of his life."After all, life was not made up of moments of exaltation, but of quite ordinary, everyday things."
—Moonlight Reader