I have previously heard Georgette Heyer described as the “Queen of Regency Romance”, and after having read The Corinthian, I am now fully convinced that this is indeed the case. This is the fourth novel of Georgette Heyer’s that I have encountered… and incidentally the first one I’ve encountered in paperback. Thus this particular novel proved that I do (as I had thought) greatly enjoy Ms Heyer’s delightful stories; and that it wasn’t only because Richard Armitage narrated the three other stories that I enjoy her work excessively. I’m not saying that having Richard Armitage reading it wouldn’t have made The Corinthian more enjoyable, but hey, you can’t have everything. The book starts out following the movements of Sir Richard Wyndham, the Corinthian, who is being beleaguered by his relatives to offer for Melissa Brandon. I don’t blame him for not wanting to marry her; honestly, I was so disgusted by her character, the only difference between Melissa and a marble statue is that Melissa could breathe. Sir Richard’s character seemed to me to be vaguely reminiscent of the Earl of Rule from The Convenient Marriage, (incidentally one of my favourite Georgette Heyer novels), but upon further study it appeared it was only the presence of his odious sister that made him seem so. I believe one of the things I like most about Georgette Heyer’s novels is that her characters are always so well drawn, and I often take great pleasure in trying to puzzle them out. It was therefore with great pleasure that I discovered my suspicions about Sir Richard – suspicions that came to my mind in a pause between reading the chapters - had been right. He was indeed a romantic at heart, and deep down did want to be in love, and to marry a woman who cared for his character rather than his money. He was alike in some ways to Lord Rule, as I had previously asserted, but there were several key differences. Sir Richard, on top of being altogether too concerned with his appearance, was a rather more dashing hero on the surface. His exploits were decidedly more showy than those of the Earl of Rule, who preferred to operate mostly in the background and take great pleasure in doing so. Sir Richard also – despite having the fair share of gallantry necessary in most if not all heroes – often had no compunction about being rude… at the very least dangerously blunt or wilfully provoking. His liveliness, wit, humour and tolerance balanced with the aforementioned qualities made him an eminently satisfying hero for the story.However, I must confess that if I were in love with a man, I should not like to be called a “brat” by him as many times as Penelope (Pen) was named as such by Sir Richard. Of course it was a long time before the romance blossomed, and the term was for the most part used as an endearment, but I still found it very easy to wish that Sir Richard had come up with some other epithet for Miss Penelope Creed than “brat”. But in his defence; when a young lady drops out of a window into your drunken arms to escape a marriage with her cousin, thus giving you an excuse to escape the possibility of your own loveless marriage and taking you on something that cannot but be called an adventure… Well, I must ask, what else are you to call her? Penelope is one of the most adorable characters I’ve ever come across. Her endless enthusiasm and curiosity are so endearing, as is her trusting and kind nature. Her imagination runs riot through her knack of concocting stories to explain her presence in certain places, and one cannot help being in sympathy with Sir Richard, even as you laugh at his exasperation in having to go along with all of Pen’s stories; in most of which he figures as a cruel oppressor. Poor thing! Pen is a decidedly clever and determined girl, but can be a little clueless about the ways of the world sometimes. However, she is only seventeen, spirited and fond of adventure, so a little cluelessness is to be expected. And of course, she is brought to her senses at the most inopportune moment, which was rather sad, really. The characters that conspire to bring Penelope to her senses are Piers Luttrell – her supposed childhood sweetheart – and Cedric Brandon, who is in Somerset trying to discover what has happened to his brother Beverley Brandon. You know, I never thought I’d find someone who fulfilled the requirements of “odious little toad” any better than Mr Crosby Drellincourt from The Convenient Marriage. I congratulate Ms Heyer on having been able to create someone I actually despise more than Crosby – who I must admit did have some amusement value in his favour. Without going into particulars, in is perhaps fitting that Beverley came off far worse than Crosby.In any case, I was speaking of Piers and Cedric. Piers was a disappointing character to say the least. Well, of course he would be disappointing next to the endlessly amusing and perfectly lovely Sir Richard, but any man who can defend such a useless, pathetic creature as Lydia has got to have something wrong with him. The reader expects more from him because it seems throughout the story that Pen expected more from him, but in the end? Well, I honestly didn’t care about him that much. Seriously Piers, if you want to run off with a silly and shallow girl, that’s your own affair, but for God’s sake stop telling Pen about the impropriety of her situation! And Cedric was even worse. Between the two of them, Piers and Cedric manage to almost completely destroy Penelope’s illusions, and her happiness. I just wanted to push them both away and give Pen a hug, seeing her crushed under the knowledge that she is in love with Sir Richard, and at the same time convinced he only wants to marry her because it is the most correct thing to do.Now then, the ending; well, I must admit that, though being perfectly sweet and lovely, it did leave me feeling just very slightly dissatisfied. This was no doubt on account of the final chapter being such a… a whirlwind, I suppose. The first half of the chapter was everything that it should have been, worthy of all the tears I shed over it (that letter… *sniffles*) but the second half of the final chapter… It was a little confusing. People were running about here and there, with quite unnecessary disturbances, and the story finished within two pages of Richard and Pen being reunited. Everything was rounded up nicely enough, and it still made me laugh and smile, but I think the book would not have suffered from another ten pages or so to bring it to a more graceful ending. And perhaps it is silly of me, but I felt a childish disappointment in the fact that for the entire duration of the novel, Sir Richard had never seen Penelope dressed as a lady, instead of pretending to be a boy. In any case, all it took was remembering the rest of the novel to assuage my slight disappointment, so I bear Ms Heyer no lasting ill will for the feeling of being rushed towards the end of the story.Despite the hurried ending, The Corinthian really was amazingly fun. It’s also one of Heyers slightly shorter novels, so generally it doesn’t suffer from narrative sequences that are slightly too long, which I have come across in a few of her other, longer works. The Corinthian made me laugh all the time, it was very sweet, and you cannot help but love both Sir Richard and Penelope. The romance is somewhat more subtle in this novel than some, and doesn’t start be realized by the characters until late, but it was lovely and everything it should have been. And, let’s face it; we don’t need a really obvious romance all the time, do we? Sometimes we just want to find something romantic yet light and fun and hilarious, and that’s exactly what I found in The Corinthian. :)
The Corinthian, ironically, had made little and immense impact upon me when I first read it a few years ago. Whilst I didn’t rate it as one of her better novels and swiftly forgot its plot, it has this wonderful and memorable ”Let them look.” moment that I always associate with Heyer’s regency romances… Little and immense indeed!Heyer is the only author I’ve discovered who can stand, for me, on par with the Austen classics and, whilst this isn’t one of my favourites (These Old Shades, Regency Buck) it is far too engaging not to capture you regardless of how farfetched their adventures.The initial two chapters, prior to Pen literally jumping into the scene, are slow-going, but I suspect in some ways this is the point. Sir Wyndham is bored and disillusioned with the world, it holds no particular joy or exhilaration for him; these chapters capture quite how bleak he foresaw his future… And then Pen thrusts upon him all the excitement and sparkle that his life is missing.Pen is an absolute whirlwind, a force to be reckoned with. She’s trusting and friendly, almost to a fault, and, since she is not yet out, her lack of worldliness and youthful naivety do occasionally pitch her in the light of one much younger. This is, however, part of her charm as well as her emotional maturing during their escapades. I particularly love, at one point in the novel, her scolding of a typically tearful stereotype, pointing out the flaws that readers often pick up on (If you are upset, who cares if sitting on the grass might stain your dress?!)I wouldn’t recommend this as the first book for someone new to Heyer, however fans of The Foundling, The Masqueraders and Faro's Daughter will almost certainly enjoy the romp… As per any Heyer book, the detail and research of the period is amazing, it’s a joy to read, and I know for certain that I’ll be chuckling over ‘That Waistcoat’ comedy for quite some time.
What do You think about The Corinthian (2004)?
Though I wasn't initially engaged with the rather drawn-out and verbose beginning, I quickly found myself hooked into one of Heyer's most madcap adventures of those I have read (on par, or even more outrageous than The Grand Sophy). Despite the convoluted plot and rather tenuous role of chance threading its way through the novel, I enjoyed myself immensely.The two main characters are wonderfully written, with more believable motives and character arcs than the otherwise fantastic story would seem to support. I agree with other reviewers that, in our day, a romance with a 12-year age disparity feels rather awkward - even inappropriate - but I think Heyer pulled it off just fine. I would recommend this book to regency fans in general, and Heyer fans in particular.I should add that my favorable impression was increased by the fact that I listened to this book on CD; it was read by Eve Matthison, who gave a fantastic performance and added wonderful inflection, accents, and emotion to the story. I recommend this version even more than the hard copy.
—Angela
One of my favorite Heyers. It involves the urbane, cultured hero-young, unconventional heroine combination, and its done very well here. Penelope Creed literally falls into Richard Wyndham's life late one night, determined to run away from an oppressive marriage to a creepy cousin to find shelter with an old friend of hers. Richard decides to run away with her, as there is a marriage of his own he would like to escape. Hijinx in the form of cross-dressing, escaped criminals, mistaken identity and saving people from their own dramatics ensue.
—Kelly
So I really need to pace myself when it comes to Georgette Heyer books. It really doesn't take me very long at all to read through one. I've read all of her regency romances before, so when I do read them, it's usually to revisit one I've liked in the past. I have to admit that I'd forgotten how much I liked this one. Pen Creed is such a hilarious character. She's young enough to be able to pull off innocent, yet she's enough of an individual to take the world at her own speed. Sir Richard turns out to be a wonderful "hero" of the book. Despite the difference in ages between the two (12 years) they actually fill an important role in the life of the other. A fun read through and through. Once again she made me laugh out loud. I really need to take a break though, because I need to get some things done around the house. . . . dishes, ironing, vacuuming, dinner. . . Oh dear.
—Natalie
