The Rake
by Mary Jo Putney
The author notes in her forward, or preface---in these modern times such things are not explicitly incorporated into the story, but plopped even in front of the title page, right after the inside teaser---that the book is her favorite. Having written it `in the purest burst of creativity I ever experienced' in 1989, she has revised it and retitled it for the new publisher. She claims to have changed the story very little---just a little professional polishing (another comment, found on the web, is that she inserted sex scenes that really do very nearly seem to be de rigeur these days) but otherwise has changed her favorite effort very little.
Her disclaimer of objectivity and hope that her readers will equally enjoy the book is charming. Having myself experienced background characters who took charge of stories of which they were obstensibly filler to the point of overpowering the original idea and characters, and generating much more interesting results into the bargain, I was prepared to enjoy the novel.
And, like the author, I did: I reread it four times in the space of two days, something I can recall doing with very few other books indeed. So, neither can I admit to being objective. Though the book does have some flaws, I found it tremendously appealing.
The story details the exploits of Reginald---Reggie---Davenport, in his efforts to transform himself from a hanger-on of society who supports himself by gambling and drowns his sorrows over the general pointlessness of his life in booze into a gentleman of property. Having unexpectedly regained his mother's estate, Strickland, he forsakes the variety and sophistication of London for rural Dorsetshire, where he quickly meets up with Alys Weston, who posed as a man (on paper) to obtain her position as steward of Strickland.
Though prickly, her sarcastic humor complements his own, often caustic outlook on life, and his hereto unconventional lifestyle permits him the flexibility to retain the services of what is traditionally only a man's job. Perhaps one of the reasons I found the book so appealing is that both characters are considerably older than is typical---Reggy is 37, my own age, and Alys is 30---and that they are wrestling problems and self doubts analogous to those many people, particularly women, in my own generation, struggle with. The dryness of their humor combined with the outrageousness of their conversations was another big plus.
Particularly good are the characterizations---the author does an excellent job of giving the reader access to her characters' greatest joys and deepest doubts, generally without being too manipulative. It should be noted that though Alys' character is strong, interesting, and well developed, the book is ultimately about the male protagonist, a comparative rarity in romances, but certainly not (at least for me) an unwelcome one. The research on the period, especially with regard to farming, is generally good---I especially like the details pertaining to sheep farming---if often without the sharpness of detail that would require vastly more research than most romance authors feel they have time to spare.
The use of period language is not nearly as strong---the characters express things in a way I am persuaded no 19ca person of good breeding would be caught dead doing, and even the decriptive prose sometimes grates---I realize English, or at least American, is losing its inflections, but adjectival forms are still considered the standard for good grammar. In other words, in a regency story, human children should still be reared, not raised, and gentlemen (and lady) farmers go off to visit an agricultural show (show? I'd think it would be an exhibition, or convocation, or demonstration, or something of that sort, actually...) but certainly not an agriculture show. The worst gaffe was the 'original Handel music score'. No expert musician would have inserted such an unnecessary adjective as ``music'' with relation to a score. Come to think of it, if the word were going to be included, then it should have been 'musical score'.... However, all scores are musical, and for those readers too ignorant to know who Handel is, there is an explication further down in the paragraph for their benefit.
Even allowing for the protagonists' very unconventional outlook on life, I have to admit that I found some of their viewpoints distinctly flavored with twentieth century theories of sexuality and substance abuse. This is a quibble, as some of those conversations are essential to character development, and if the last heart-to-heart chat goes a little faster and more smoothly than I'd ever expect something that personal to actually happen, it merely points up the generally superb pacing.
Though happy in the extreme that the cover displayed no heaving bosoms, or bared male chests---I freely admit showing such things to checkout clerks embarresses me---and that the author's name was printed in a nice, legible roman font, instead of that swirly pseudo-calligraphic stuff that is not only unreadable but offensive to anyone with pretensions to enjoyment of good typographic design, I do wish they'd taken the trouble to photograph a real quill pen, rather than a metal nib with a feather stuck on the end. And yes, the heroine is beautiful, and the hero handsome, though extraordinary beauty is reserved for a pair of younger lovers. And yes, the hero does indeed leave fiery trails (or is it burning trails?) of sensation down his lady's back during one of the sex scenes, which are blessedly brief, and vague, though I think much of them could have been cut to the story's advantage. But on the whole, the book is relatively free of the most rigid conventions bounding this convention laden genre.
An excellent love story, highly recommended. 3 and a half stars.
Sylvus Tarn Last modified: Mon Aug 24 00:06:20 EDT 1998
Unless otherwise noted, text, image and objects depicted therein copyright 2008 sylvus tarn.
