TEST
I think the Congress of Vienna of 1814-185 is really interesting. The fates of millions of people were decided amongst serious partying, and it was interrupted by Napoleon’s escape and the events leading up to the Battle of Waterloo. Any romance placed in this setting should be fascinating. A Foreign Affair, alas, is far from that.
Major Lord Brett Stanford is a member of the British delegation. A cavalry officer who has a way with the ladies, his secret mission is to gossip with women at the Congress and find out what their political agendas are. For reasons that are not clear to me, he proceeds to attach himself to the Princess von Hohenbachern, an English-born beauty who is completely apolitical. He also meets her daughter, the bluestocking Helena Deveraux, who is attached to a political cause and far better-informed about the negotiations than Brett himself.
The chief problem with this book is the horrible writing style. I can only assume that the author is trying to sound English. For her, this involves writing long, long sentences, with lots of clauses and three-syllable adjectives and as little punctuation as possible. Here is one representative sentence:
“Pursing her full red lips in a moue of frustration, the princess also rose and returned to her boudoir to continue her much interrupted toilette while Brett, his mind seething with a turmoil of conflicting possibilities, hurried back to the British delegation where he spent the next several hours at his desk capturing his thoughts in reports to Wellington and Castlereagh before the impressions he had received during his visit to the Palm Palace began to fade.”
The entire book is written in this fashion. As a result, the reader is bored senseless while endless paragraphs go by during which the author describes for us, again and again and again – in slightly different words – exactly how the characters feel about everything. Worse still, the characters actually talk that way. Here is Helena:
“It is considered bad ton by most of society if one is passionately devoted to anything, which is why I do my utmost to avoid most of society and why I am so often the object of ironic smiles and cynical remarks that imply I am not only naively idealistic, but also a fool for espousing any cause with passionate interest.”
I have rarely in my life encountered an author with a worse ear for dialogue. Helena will deliver a lengthy speech, after which she will listen while the person she’s talking to pontificates in his turn. They all sound like self-important windbags, even when they’re supposed to be flirting. And God help you when you get to the part where Brett talks about horses. No effort is made to make this conversation comprehensible, much less interesting:
“It is nothing, really, merely an expansion of the basic elements of dressage with the rider helping to bring the balance to the rear and lightening the forehand so the horse’s gait is shorter and raised without sacrificing extension and freedom of movement.”
Matters are not helped by the fact that this book is very thin as to plot. Helena and Brett are both eligible and attractive. No barrier stands between them, except that neither of them particularly wants to fall in love. Helena’s love for Brett really is a tragedy, as it reduces her to stammering incoherence, blushing, and blinking back tears for the entire latter third of the novel. Of course Helena thinks that Brett is courting her mother, but that’s not really a conflict that goes anywhere. Towards the end, the author introduces an infuriating misunderstanding that, for me, reduced this book from a D- to an F.
The way history is presented seems strangely joyless and perfunctory. I don’t think it’s inaccurate (except for the laughable assertion that Brett is the only member of the British delegation who can read and write French), but it feels as though the author had read a book on the Congress and then proceeded to dutifully plug data into her novel wherever they fit, whether or not they are relevant to the story. For instance, at one point Lord Castlereagh delivers a lecture on the historical situation that goes on for three excruciating pages. During this address he refers to a spy “who simply signs himself ***.” That’s probably a historical fact, but to deliver it in dialogue is just silly. No indication is given as to how Castlereagh pronounces ***.
There are other problems. Suddenly on page 150 we have two long paragraphs from the point of view of Helena’s butler, of all people. Apparently it was necessary for us to know that the butler thinks Brett is a fine figure of a man. Later Brett’s valet gets a similarly irrelevant and boring cameo. Also, one gets the impression that Brett and Helena are absurdly unaware of their own emotions. There’s a scene in which Brett, pondering on how delicious Helena is, pauses to wonder which of the men at the Congress should be the one to sexually awaken her. Tsar Alexander? Metternich? Talleyrand? He does not nominate himself as a candidate.
All of this adds up to a book that is by turns idiotic and interminable. The only way I could keep myself amused was by making marginal notes with my highlighter (“Most Boring Horse Race Ever!”). I had to force myself to finish this book. Richardson seems to have a pretty good handle on the history of the Congress, but you could get that from an encyclopedia. In fact, I recommend that you read an encyclopedia before you read A Foreign Affair. It is a tedious waste of time.
Grade: F
Book Type: Regency Romance
Sensuality: Kisses
Review Date: 11/03/03
Publication Date: 2003
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Recent Comments …
Yep
This sounds delightful! I’m grabbing it, thanks
excellent book: interesting, funny dialogs, deep understanding of each character, interesting secondary characters, and also sexy.
I don’t think anyone expects you to post UK prices – it’s just a shame that such a great sale…
I’m sorry about that. We don’t have any way to post British prices as an American based site.
I have several of her books on my TBR and after reading this am moving them up the pile.