I was first exposed to the Outlander series because my mom and my neighbor Michelle watched Starz television adaptation, a ritual to which I was cordially not invited. For this reason, I jokingly called Outlander their “mummy porn.” Last summer I began renting episodes of season one through YouTube and was quickly hooked, so much so that I had my mom buy me the first two books, Outlander and Dragonfly in Amber. The third in the series, Voyager, was among the books I received for Christmas and I had planned on reading it while I was on my Bermuda cruise, but was prevented to because Mom would not allow me to bring my tablet, which contains the audiobook I listen along with. So I continued reading it when I returned.
Voyager begins in 1968, twenty years after the end of Dragonfly in Amber. Surgeon Claire Randall travels to Scotland with her grown daughter Brianna and enlists the help of the young historian Roger Wakefield to find out what happened to Jamie Fraser, an eighteenth century Jacobite believed to have died at the battle of Culloden. Claire has spent the last twenty years with her reserved and scholarly previous husband Frank, now dead, but longs for Jamie, the man she married after a mysterious force drew her back in time two hundred years to eighteenth century Scotland and who is Brianna’s real father. With the help of Brianna and Roger, Claire is able to travel through the magical stone circle of Craigh Na Dun and return to her beloved Jamie but finds that her journey has only begun. After Jamie’s nephew, Ian is kidnapped by white slavers, the saga of Claire and Jamie brings us to the exotic and brutal world of colonial Jamaica.
Each of the Outlander novels are ambitious and expansive and Voyager is the most so, running in at over a thousand pages but is a page turner of the first class. Despite now being middle aged, Claire and Jamie still have their sizzling chemistry. The book is an enjoyable adventure, perfect for a voyage of your own.
In the wake of the smash hit Broadway musical Hamilton, several historical fiction novels have come out which tell the story of the revolutionary it couple Alexander Hamilton and Eliza Schuyler, a long overlooked founding mother now reinvented as the ultimate romantic heroine. The first of such books was The Hamilton Affair by author and historian Elizabeth Cobbs.
The story of Alexander Hamilton and Eliza Schuyler has all the ingredients for the perfect period romance: an unlikely couple including a dashing and ambitious hero clawing his way up from the bottom and a beautiful and spirited heroine from a wealthy family, a whirlwind wartime romance, and plenty of scandal and appearances from well known historical figures. But I admit that I could not get into The Hamilton Affair. Many of the elements of the plot have their basis in historical fact but I did not enjoy them from a storytelling point of view.
My first problem with the story is the portrayal of Eliza and her sister Angelica. Eliza starts off as an outdoorsy tomboy who is uninterested in what is expected of an upper-class eighteenth-century girl. Her real life counterpart was said to be something of a tomboy and enjoyed being outdoors but was also skilled in everything a colonial woman was supposed to know such as sewing and housekeeping. I have no problem with a girl being a tomboy but it’s a cheap and cliched way of making a female character from a different time period seem down to earth and relatable to modern audiences. In contrast, her older sister Angelica is portrayed as a vain and pretentious ninny who is only interested in finding a husband. Eliza is jealous of her beauty and charm and is dismissive of her. Angelica is used as a foil to Eliza in both The Hamilton Affair and Hamilton. While Eliza in Hamilton is gentle and demure, Angelica is feisty and outspoken. While Eliza in The Hamilton Affair is sensible and down-to-earth, Angelica is vain and flighty. Although both sisters were very different in real-life (Eliza was domestic and unpretentious and Angelica was a glamorous social butterfly) they were very close all their lives. One of the things that I appreciate about Hamilton is that though Angelica and Eliza are presented as foils and both love the same man, they are not pitted against each other; Angelica chooses her relationship with her sister over her feelings for Alexander. Angelica is not my favorite of the Schuyler sisters (I think her character in Hamilton is overrated and find Eliza more interesting), I think she deserves better than she gets in The Hamilton Affair.
The second problem is that I know and do like what is going to happen. Those who are familiar with Hamilton will know that the title character cheats on his wife with the younger, hotter Maria Reynolds. This is a part of the story I usually like to skip over because I am rooting for Alexander and Eliza as a couple. I am not interested in Alexander’s so called moral dilemma and do not feel sorry for him one bit when his life falls apart because of it.
And finally, I do not like how easily Alexander is let off for what he did. The Hamilton Affair excuses his infidelity with the old “he’s only human” justification. Eliza eventually gets over it, though she is tempted by an Iroquois Indian man she had a crush on as a teenager, and it’s framed as she needs to be the better person and forgive rather than he needs to do something to earn her forgiveness. The book buys into the idea that men cannot control their baser urges and women should be “the better person” and forgive them when they err and god forbid they give the cheating son of a bitch a taste of his own medicine . That may have been how people in this time period though but it annoys me from a modern perspective. For a woman like Eliza, sticking with her husband and patching things up with him would have been her best and most realistic option but I imagine that doing so isn’t easy. Forgiving and moving on is not as easy as simply getting over it. While in Hamilton, Eliza symbolically cuts her philandering husband out of her life by burning the letters she wrote to him, thus erasing all the proof of her feelings for him. When their son, Philip, dies in a duel, this shared tragedy brings them back together. Alexander has to suffer to earn his wife’s forgiveness, which is more satisfying from a narrative standpoint.
I imagine that some people might enjoy The Hamilton Affair if they are not as puritanical and judgmental as I am when it comes to adultery but I think that it pales in comparison to the musical it is riding on the coattails of.
Growing up, Mary, Queen of Scots: Queen Without a Country was an entry in the Royal Diaries series that I always wanted to read but never got a chance to. When I reread Marie Antoinette: Princess of Versailles last fall, I decided to purchase Queen Without a Country off of Amazon.
Eleven-year-old Mary Stuart believes that she is destined to rule three countries. By birth, she is Queen of Scotland and she is arranged to marry the heir to the French throne, the frail but good natured Francis. Those around her say that she has a better claim to the English throne than its current occupant. But being a beautiful young royal growing up in the renaissance French court is not the fairy tale one might imagine. Mary and her loyal clique of ladies in waiting, all named Mary (this gets a little confusing at times, I can understand why Reign changed this but did they have to give them such preposterous names as Lola, Greer, Kenna, and Aylee) have to deal with spies and political intrigue, a pedophilic music teacher, and Mary’s treacherous and prickly mother-in-law to be, Catherine de Medici.
I always get a kick out of when I find surprisingly adult elements in books intended for children, such as Signor Marcellini, the music master who comes onto Mary Fleming, the real life counterpart to Reign’s Lola. One needs to keep in mind that Mary and her ladies are supposed to around eleven or twelve and girls in the sixteenth century were considered sexually mature around that age so that by the standards of the time, Signor Marcellini would not be considered a pedophile.
Like I said with Marie Antoinette: Princess of Versailles, this book is meant for elementary and middle school aged readers and comes across as somewhat juvenile to me at this point in my life, but I probably would have enjoyed when I was younger. The setting of the highly refined sixteenth-century French court is fascinating and like with Reign, it is meant to be escapism. Many young girls enjoyed fantasizing about being a beautiful princess, wearing gorgeous clothes, and having exciting things happen to you, I know I did. And if there is a historical setting, all the better.