This was the third novel of Georgette Heyer’s that I found, again under the guise of an audio-book narrated by Richard Armitage. I have extolled all of Richard Armitage’s many virtues as a narrator in previous reviews, and I shall continue to do so until someone gets sick of it and tells me to shut the hell up… and maybe not even then. As usual his reading was perfectly paced, pleasant to listen to, and his vocal range deeply impressive. What I particularly enjoyed in this one was the fact that some of his accents seemed slightly more… countrified, than in his other narrations. Those voices that he did “countrify” were appropriate, and conversely his depiction of Sylvester was perfectly aristocratic. I absolutely loved it.Now then, I have seen Sylvester occasionally compared to Pride and Prejudice, which I think is frankly rather absurd. Aside from Phoebe’s original and incidentally mostly well-founded prejudice against the Duke of Salford, there is almost nothing in the plot to allow for an adequate comparison of the two. However, I do believe it to be perfectly reasonable to compare the character of Sylvester, Duke of Salford, to that of Mr Darcy. To that end, I’m going to try and keep going through the review what I’m going to call – very pretentiously, I might add, but I can’t help myself - “The Darcy Simile”.The first few chapters of the novel I found to be very entertaining, and also very well placed. Without these chapters at the start which gave the reader an opportunity to get to know Sylvester, and some of the reasons behind his arrogance, I am sure I would have found him to be quite a stuck up, unsatisfactory hero until these things were explained. In terms of “The Darcy Simile”, the Duke of Salford does have more actual pride and arrogance than Mr Darcy, but while Darcy’s seeming coldness stemmed from shyness, Sylvester’s arrogance stemmed from his devastation over the death of his brother. Even after four years he still hasn’t entirely recovered, and as such has become a little uncaring, more from a habit of keeping people at an emotional arms-length than anything else. But Salford, like Darcy, is not arrogant in the usual sense of the word.“Sylvester, who did not arrive at parties very late, take his bored leave within half an hour of his arrival, leave invitations unanswered, stare unrecognizingly at one of his tenants, or fail to exchange a few words with every one of his guests on public days at Chance, was not very likely to believe that a charge of arrogance levelled against him was anything but a calumny.”Needless to say, Sylvester’s character is vastly intriguing – arrogant, yet not in the usual style, and unable to realize that arrogance goes a little deeper than the above description. Sylvester clearly needs to learn, as he does over the course of the novel, they nobility is more than skin-deep; it is more than simply acting in order to sustain the view that others have of your supposedly noble character. He was a little uncaring, but still able to joke and sometimes act kindly on an impulse. In other words, he was temperamental, a quality which I actually quite like. There were three other things that endeared him to me, in these first chapters. First was his easy, very loving relationship with his Mama, about whom I shall speak later. Secondly, I liked his clear intelligence, and his consequent ability to deliver very amusing, very witty retorts. And thirdly was his affection for his little nephew, Edmund, which becomes even more apparent later on in the story. Here again I found a strong resemblance to Mr Darcy: even when Darcy still seemed a bit proud, I’m sure many readers – not just me – are very much touched by the way he loves and dotes upon his sister Georgiana. The same was true of Sylvester, and remembering his attitude towards his nephew was something I had to make myself remember, later in the novel, during times when it seemed that Sylvester did not have very many qualities about him that I could like. Where the “Darcy Simile” falls down rather heavily is in the character of Sylvester’s mother, Elizabeth, the Duchess of Salford. The only character she could really be compared to in Pride and Prejudice is Lady Catherine, and while I despise Lady Catherine, I don’t think I’ve ever felt such affection for a character as I have for the Duchess of Salford. Oh, of course I have fallen in love with a great many heroes, and felt for many heroines as I would for a sister, but there have not, I believe, been any secondary characters which I hold in more affection and esteem that this lovely woman. Sylvester’s Mama is kept in relative seclusion due to an arthritic complaint, and yet unlike so many other Regency ladies, she does not ask anyone to pity her, and actually contrives to exist in perfect happiness, with her relatives and her novels to occupy her. Aside from her admirable strength, her love for her son is so very clear, she is well-informed with a sharp intellect, and perhaps one of the kindest women I have ever read about. I felt sorry for her, being so disquieted by the suspicion that her son had become arrogant. And it brought tears to my eyes when at one point in the novel – I shan’t say when – she addresses young Phoebe Marlowe with such tender affection that Phoebe, never having encountered such affection before, falls to her knees next to Sylvester’s mama, and cries her poor little heart out.In any case, after those first few chapters of the book involving Sylvester and his mother, the story moves to focus upon the heroine, Miss Phoebe Marlowe. There was a period of time upon first encountering the heroine that I found the novel to be almost dull. It was for, shall we say, a period of about twenty minutes to half an hour in audiobook terms, and not even Richard Armitage’s dulcet tones could keep me from becoming just the slightest bit bored. Though undoubtedly a lovely girl with a pleasant talent for writing and an unfortunate tendency to allow herself to be oppressed by her family, there was – at least to begin with - very little in Phoebe Marlowe’s character to recommend her to me. And upon the Duke of Salford arriving to visit her, and seeing his behaviour, I came to the uncomfortable conclusion that I did not – for the moment – very much like either of the main characters in the novel, though both had redeeming features which gave me some hope. One character I did really like was Tom, Phoebe’s childhood friend. He was an honourable, blunt young man, with an incredibly loyal heart, and not afraid of plain speaking, even when it would get him into trouble. He made me laugh, especially when he told Phoebe that they must run away, as a Gretna Green marriage was the only thing that could save her, and then asked her what in the world she was laughing at. Of course, what Phoebe is trying to escape from is the threat of being married to the Duke of Salford, as her foolish father and overbearing stepmother have told her that this evidently insufferably proud man came to visit them in order to propose to her. But her plan is rather more sensible than Tom’s; she decides to go to her grandmother – also, incidentally, Sylvester’s godmother – in London. So off they go, and accidentally overturn Tom’s fathers’ curricle, breaking poor Tom’s leg in the process. And of course, who should find them trapped at a country inn? Yes, awkwardly enough, it is the Duke of Salford. I shan’t give too much away about the plot from there, but suffice it to say that Phoebe and Tom come to know and like Sylvester, during the time they are trapped at the inn, due to the snow. Sylvester’s brand of arrogance becomes very clearly defined during his stay at the country inn, but so too does his wonderful sense of humour, his charm, and the kindness that he does indeed possess, brought out a little more than usual by Miss Phoebe Marlowe. I really came to like Sylvester – and Phoebe – in this part of the book. However, there was one particular part - after Tom tells Sylvester that Phoebe was running away from the actually non-existent threat of an offer from the Duke – where I truly wanted to slap Sylvester, I was so angry at his despicable, vengeful thought;“He became possessed of a strong desire to teach Miss Marlowe a lesson. What was it Tom had said? Nothing would induce her to marry you? A little too cocksure, Miss Marlowe. The opportunity will not be granted you. But let us see if you can be made to feel sorry.”Oh, how that made my blood boil. What a despicable, unworthy, cruel thought! But in all other respects Sylvester’s behaviour is perfectly amiable, teasing and amusing, so I was eventually able to forgive him his transgression in that area. One woman whose attitude I find very hard to forgive or even to tolerate, was the character of Lady Ianthe Rayne. Ianthe was the wife of Sylvester’s twin brother, who died right after his son Edmund was born. At first I was indignant about the idea that Sylvester should expect such a young lady never to go out into society or marry again. I was even more indignant at the thought of her being separated from her young child; Sylvester being Edmund’s guardian and insisting he be raised at Chance, even if Ianthe should remarry and move away. However, upon learning who she wanted to marry, and learning of how little real, unselfish affection she had for her child, I found it very hard to retain any sympathy for her. In all fairness I must say there was very little harm in her, in that she doesn’t mean to hurt others, but she’s one of those typical, weak, silly Regency ladies I find it hard not to despise. Again though, in all fairness, there was no real malice in her, so I could like her… just a little. Anyway, eventually Phoebe arrives in London, and out of the way of her despicable, cruel stepmother, Phoebe’s character really begins to flower. She is smart, precocious, unfailingly kind, and a very honourable little thing. I loved reading of her and of Sylvester in London, but unfortunately Phoebe manages to get herself into such a scrape that I was alternately holding my breath in anxiety for her, and trying not to cry for her pain. I will say – trying not to give anything away – that there is a time, in London, when Sylvester is unspeakably and deliberately cruel to poor Miss Marlowe. I felt very much for both of them, understanding his anger and her true regret and sorrow, but deliberate cruelty is one of the few things I find it very, very hard to forgive. What he says to her has me in tears every single time. The combination of Georgette’s flawless writing and the brilliant way in which Richard reads the scene is perfectly calculated to shatter my poor heart with sympathy and sorrow; mostly for Phoebe, but also for Sylvester. Well now, that’s all I can really say without spoiling anything major, but I cannot resist talking about the final events of the novel, especially as they give me such a lovely opportunity to further my “Darcy Simile”. So, without further ado…(view spoiler)[Imagine - imagine! Lady Ianthe and her new idiot husband actually carried poor Phoebe and Tom off on a ship! I couldn’t help laughing, but I was also biting my nails with anxiety, wondering how in the world this was going to be fixed. Really, for a book that got a little dull near beginning, it truly became amazing. Especially when Sylvester finally discovers Phoebe, Tom and little Edmund – whom Ianthe was effectively kidnapping, though she was his mother – in France. Here, I think, Ianthe reaches her worst point in the entire novel, in accusing Sylvester of never caring so much for his twin brother, Harry. Sylvester’s reaction easily smashed my poor heart into pieces all over again, and I felt the overwhelming need to pull him out of the story and give him a hug. Needless to say, the Duke had again endeared himself to me at this point, especially as he is almost unbelievably sweet with his young nephew, but then… the proposal scene, back in the port at London.Honestly, both Mr Darcy and the Duke of Salford need to learn that it really, really isn’t a good idea to piss off or insult your heroine in some way before proposing to her. Men, how foolish they can sometimes be! The accusations that Sylvester throws at Phoebe are nothing short of cruel, when she is already so obviously distressed. I felt so badly for both of them – Sylvester truly in love and having no idea how he managed to screw up so badly, and Phoebe trying not to be in love because she believes it’s only Sylvester's pride that drives him to offer for her. I dare not spoil how the novel ends, as it is too precious to spoil, but as with almost all of Georgette Heyer’s novels, it is utterly perfect. (hide spoiler)]
Circa un mese fa ho avuto una lieve influenza: in quel pomeriggio in cui non stavo molto bene avevo bisogno di una lettura "confortevole", e in casi del genere ho imparato a rivolgermi a questa autrice, Georgette Heyer, e ai suoi Regency romances. Lettura "confortevole" non significa necessariamente promossa sempre a pieni voti, ma semplicemente gradevole, "prevedibile" in senso "buono", ovvero sai cosa ti riserva senza grosse sorprese, non impegna particolarmente il cervello ma non è neanche "stupida" o totalmente insignificante. Non tutti i miei precedenti con la Heyer sono stati dei successi, qualcuno anzi si è rivelato persino deludente ( The Grand Sophy), e aspetto ancora che si ripeti la "magia" del primo, ottimo romanzo ( Cotillion), eppure mi piace questo mondo di aristocratici inglesi alle prese con problemi di cuore, ricostruito con così tanta cura e tanto amore, e ci tornerò ancora.L'ultima aggiunta alla lista per ora è questo Sylvester, or The Wicked Uncle, del 1957.Il ventottenne Sylvester, duca di Salford, capo di una ricca e nobilissima casata, tutore del giovanissimo nipote, figlio del suo defunto fratello, ha deciso di sposarsi; affronta questo "progetto" con il suo consueto cipiglio autoritario e iper razionale, definendo a tavolino dei requisiti minimi che la futura sposa dovrà possedere: una certa bellezza, maniere impeccabili e capacità di muoversi in società, un certo grado di intelligenza affinché la sua compagnia non risulti alla lunga fastidiosa. Soprattutto, dovrà essere gradita alla sua amatissima madre, cui sottopone questo "programma": proprio la madre, che è invece di temperamento ben più "romantico" del figlio e vede con un po' di preoccupazione questo modo così "glaciale" di affrontare la questione, richiesta di un parere, gli propone una sua "candidata", la figlia di una sua carissima amica, ormai defunta. Sylvester, che non conosce neppure questa ragazza (in realtà l'ha già incontrata, come dirò fra poco, ma non se ne ricorda affatto), ma che, al momento, non ha alcuna preferenza, per cui tanto vale partire con la "selezione" con una candidata già approvata dalla madre, organizza un incontro presso la famiglia di lei. Ma il suo desiderio di discrezione si scontra con l'eccitazione con cui la famiglia della ragazza, Phoebe, accoglie questo possibile interessamento di un uomo così altolocato: il padre e la matrigna cominciano a starle addosso perché si impegni per fare un'ottima impressione e perché accetti senz'altro la proposta di matrimonio. Il problema è che... Phoebe non può vedere Sylvester: l'ha incontrato soltanto una volta (senza fargli nessuna impressione, visto che lui neppure se ne ricorda) e le è sembrato talmente altezzoso, arrogante e scostante che addirittura lo ha preso a modello per il terribile conte Ugolino, il "cattivo" del romanzo gotico che sta segretamente scrivendo, The Lost Heir, e che un editore londinese è disposto a pubblicare, anonimo. Oltre tutto, come Sylvester scopre non appena i due si conoscono, Phoebe non possiede nessuno dei requisiti necessari: ha un aspetto ordinario, parla poco e, quando lo fa, non ha un tono molto rispettoso verso di lui. Questo "primo appuntamento" quindi è un vero disastro, e Sylvester è più che mai convinto a non chiederla assolutamente in moglie, ma Phoebe non può saperlo ed è talmente terrorizzata all'idea che le venga fatta quella proposta che... preferisce scappare nottetempo da casa col suo migliore amico Tom, per raggiungere la nonna materna a Londra. Quando la cosa si scopre la mattina dopo, fra lo sconcerto generale della famiglia di Phoebe, Sylvester, divertito e forse anche sollevato di essere stato cavato così convenientemente dall'impaccio, parte anch'egli alla volta di casa... ma siamo in pieno inverno, la neve è troppo fitta e deve fermarsi lungo il tragitto in una locanda, naturalmente la stessa in cui sono stati costretti a sostare anche Phoebe e Tom dopo un incidente con la loro carrozza... e in cui tutti e tre rimarranno bloccati per alcuni giorni a causa del maltempo. La convivenza forzata, che all'inizio non può che essere assai imbarazzante per Phoebe, si rivela però meno sgradevole del previsto, perché la ragazza scopre che Sylvester non è il "mostro" di perfidia che immaginava, è anzi un perfetto gentiluomo, ma certo ha un senso della propria superiorità talmente radicato da risultare a volte insopportabile, e la ragazza non gliene lascia passare una. Tuttavia, si pente di averlo giudicato troppo frettolosamente e, quando entrambi finalmente riescono a raggiungere Londra, i rapporti fra i due sono divenuti cordiali. È proprio una sfortuna, quindi, che The Lost Heir stia per uscire, e che egli rischi di riconoscersi nel suo odioso antagonista (che, coincidenza!, pure lui ha un nipote, un povero bambino che tiene rinchiuso nel suo tetro castello)! Ma, d'altra parte, visto che il nome dell'autore del romanzo non comparirà, Sylvester potrebbe non scoprire mai che l'ha scritto lei...L'inizio dunque è vivace e gradevolissimo, fra il "tragico" primo appuntamento in cui tutto va storto e la fuga a sorpresa... e l'ancor più sorprendente soggiorno forzato nella locanda isolata dalla neve. A metà romanzo il ritmo si inceppa un po' e la parte londinese finisce per ricadere nel classico canovaccio di "figuriamoci se mi sto innamorando di lui/lei", ma la lettura rimane comunque piacevole. Le cose si movimentano assai, e in modo inaspettato, quando entra in gioco la cognata di Sylvester, Ianthe, la vedova del fratello e madre del piccolo Edmund: costei, che non è mai andata d'accordo con Sylvester, è in procinto di risposarsi. Capricciosa e un po' impressionabile, dopo aver letto proprio The Lost Heir, in cui si immedesima nell'eroina contrapposta al perfidissimo Ugolino, si convincerà di dovere, proprio come avviene nel romanzo, "salvare" il figlio dal cattivissimo zio... fuggendo con lui in Francia. Naturalmente, tanto nell'immaginario libro di Phoebe la vicenda è caricata dalle tinte più fosche e melodrammatiche alla maniera del più classico romanzo gotico, quanto la Heyer la capovolgerà ironicamente nella farsa nella "realtà" dei personaggi di Sylvester, con Phoebe che ovviamente si ritroverà suo malgrado coinvolta in tutta la faccenda e con mille incidenti buffi e contrattempi. È positivo che la Heyer abbia voluto dare una scossa certamente non scontata alla vicenda, ma, a conti fatti, la complicazione movimenta la trama "esteriormente", ma non nella sostanza, non è un vero "conflitto" da superare. Spieghiamo meglio, o almeno tentiamo. Non mi è piaciuto particolarmente il fatto che l'unico serio "c0ntrasto", o l'unica "ombra" sul carattere del nostro protagonista (il conflitto con la cognata su chi dovrà occuparsi del bambino dopo le seconde nozze di lei, se il piccolo Edmund dovrà stare con lo zio o con la madre, una pretesa che, il lettore lo vede, non sarebbe del tutto campata per aria da parte di Ianthe), venga giocato anch'esso sul registro della farsa, caricando i due "antagonisti" (la madre del bambino e il suo nuovo marito) di tratti caricaturali che forse, fino ad allora, non avevano "meritato" e rendendo fin troppo facile, per il lettore, parteggiare per Sylvester, lo zio che tanto "crudele" poi non è. Voglio dire che l'unico serio "ostacolo" perché il lettore si schierasse dalla parte del protagonista (e di conseguenza "approvasse" il fatto che Phoebe si innamorasse finalmente di lui) è stato rimosso in modo fin troppo comodo (la madre di Edmund, in fondo, è un'ochetta egocentrica cui non dispiacerà poi tanto di non doversi occupare di lui! E il suo secondo marito è un ridicolo damerino!): d'altra parte non so quanto sarebbe stato "in tono" con queste garbate e affabili commedies of manners della Heyer uno sviluppo alla "Kramer contro Kramer" sulla battaglia per la custodia del bambino... Sarebbe stato interessante e appassionante... in un altro romanzo di ben altro tipo e ben altre ambizioni, qui l'autrice deve aver pensato che non c'entrava niente, avrebbe portato troppo lontano e sarebbe stato troppo difficile da risolvere con un sorriso e senza tanti turbamenti, per cui meglio chiudere la parentesi buttandola sul ridere, e via.Altri difettucci del libro sono dei dialoghi e dei brani che talvolta esplicitano fin troppo il messaggio per il lettore (il famoso show, don't tell: ad esempio le prime pagine sono tutte dedicate alla presentazione in dettaglio del carattere di Sylvester, e quindi, più che imparare a conoscerlo "in azione", ci viene fornita una vera e propria "scheda descrittiva" del personaggio), e inoltre, e questo è un "difetto" comune in tutti i suoi libri letti finora, va bene farci stare "col fiato sospeso" (si fa per dire, rimanere incerti sul finale in un romanzo rosa è alquanto improbabile) fino all'ultimo, ma la Heyer deve imparare a tirare un po' meno per le lunghe i finali! :-)Ma tutto sommato i difetti si stemperano nella generale atmosfera di gradevolezza dell'insieme: l'ho detto all'inizio, quello che chiedevo a questo libro non era di essere memorabile ma semplicemente d'intrattenimento, e il compitino l'ha assolto. Oltre tutto in suo favore gioca anche un altro elemento, e cioè che io non resisto quando c'è un caso di "libro (finto) nel libro (vero)", con tutti i possibili meta-riferimenti del caso: do un punto in più a prescindere. Con The Lost Heir, l'immaginario romanzo scritto da Phoebe, la Heyer si diverte a prendere in giro la moda dei romanzi neri che facevano furore all'epoca in cui è ambientata la storia, con le atmosfere "gotiche" e gli stereotipi del genere (anche il titolo di questo stesso libro è una strizzatina d'occhio a quella corrente).Insomma, a parte Cotillion che non ha ancora trovato un degno rivale, stesso giudizio complessivo degli altri predecessori: gradevole, ma dimenticabile.3/5https://moloch981.wordpress.com/2015/...
What do You think about Sylvester (2004)?
Though Sylvester is more odious than Mr Darcy and Phoebe more critical than Elizabeth Bennett; though I so often wanted to bang their heads together, to make them listen instead of bickering back and forth; though they strike each other into mirth at the most inappropriate moments; and though a great deal of effort will be necessary to keep them together, not to say prevent their strangling each other; in spite of all this—or perhaps because of it—Sylvester and Phoebe are one of my favourite pairs.Perhaps there is something lacking in my education, after all.www.GoodReadingGuide.com
—Clare Cannon
Not one of my favourites. Beautifully written, as with all her books, and although I liked Sylvester, I didn't much care for Phoebe, and I didn't really feel the attraction between them.Heyer has a talent for creating wonderful, memorable characters and in this book it was Tom, Sir Nugent and young Edmund. The conversations between these three cracked me up, and the inappropriate slang words that Edmund kept dropping into the conversations made me laugh out loud. A good read, just not a great one.
—Ruth Turner
I still have not yet exhausted my desire to read the most popular of Georgette Heyer’s novels…this time reading Sylvester which has become my new favourite. Sylvester is the Duke of Salford and at the age of 28 has decided it is time to marry, but of course only to a suitable girl who meets all his particular requirements. His mother concerned for his happiness secretly prefers him to marry for love to keep in check his sense of consequence and deep reserve, and suggests he consider the granddaughter of a very good friend, Phoebe Marlow. Phoebe being neither beautiful nor elegant and quite lacking in confidence had perceived a cut from the Duke on a much earlier occasion and formed an instant dislike of the Duke’s arrogance. So much so that she used him as the model for the villain in her first published novel…the dastardly Count Ugolino. Both Sylvester’s and Phoebe’s relatives muddle in the affair and further complicating things Phoebe’s novel becomes a success…from here follows a rollicking tale of misunderstandings and missteps.Sylvester reminded me at times of Pride and Prejudice. Although the setting and exact nature of the grievances are not the same, what is similar are the bumbling of the hero and the lack of tact from the heroine. Miscommunication leads the characters to make assumptions about one another and because of the violence of their emotions efforts at reconciliation often have even more disastrous results. The Duke’s arrogance and self-consequence create misunderstandings with Phoebe and Phoebe has made assumptions about the Duke’s unfeeling character because of his treatment of those beneath his consequence. Sylvester has much in common with Heyer’s other Regency stories; humor, witty dialogue, fast-paced plot and great characters…but what makes this story distinctive from the others are the incredibly interesting complex characters. The toplofty Duke who must be taken down a peg or two, the talented guileless ingénue who is always getting into scrapes, the mischief-making nephew, the meddlesome cranky grandmamma and the foppish dandy obsessed with his boot tassels! I loved every bit of the story and hated to finish it.http://myobsessionwithbooks.blogspot....
—Nicole
