Being unable to sleep last night, I re-read Mary Stewart's This Rough Magic, My Brother Michael and Madam, Will You Talk? These are books I inherited from my mother, battered paperbacks from the 1960's or hardcovers that I've tracked down in used book stores over the years,* and last night's were three favorites of mine.*
I remain permanently amazed that no one ever made films or even miniseries out of these books. In the best ones, the suspense and the romance are inextricable from one another, the settings are integral to the plot, and the heroines are never damsels in distress, as the heroes are never cardboard leads; and even the lesser ones have some break from formula that makes them worthwhile. I will admit that I'm not as fond of the more Gothic novels, like The Gabriel Hounds or The Ivy Tree, although for some reason I do like Nine Coaches Waiting—perhaps because it takes so many Brontë themes and plays pretzel with them—but I've only ever disliked one.*** They're comfort reading, I suppose, and I've read them so many times that I could probably recite scenes from memory if pressed, but I also think they're not without literary value. And so filmable! For God's sake, am I the only person who has ever wanted to see Derek Jacobi play Sir Julian Gale?
. . . Well, I still do. And now I should sleep before I start casting the rest of the books in my head. I suspect most of the actors I'd like to have seen in the roles are no longer alive, anyway. Alas.
*My mother collects Georgette Heyers in the same way, although so far I've imprinted only on Mary Stewart. (It didn't hurt that I fell in love with The Crystal Cave and the rest of her Merlin trilogy in about seventh grade.) By now, we have hardcovers of all of Stewart's suspense-romances with the exception of Wildfire at Midnight, which I finally gave up on and bought as a reprint, and The Wind Off the Small Isles, which I've never found. I don't think that one was ever published in the U.S., however; so I have something of an excuse.
**Airs Above the Ground is the other one I love. By all rights I should also adore The Moon-Spinners, for its Greek setting, but I still prefer the other two named above—My Brother Michael and This Rough Magic.
***The Stormy Petrel. I don't know if this is because it was written much later (1991, whereas most of her novels are from the 1950's and '60's and set accordingly; Madam, Will You Talk?, for example, is a very post-war novel) or because it simply didn't work, but . . . I don't recommend. Fortunately, you have many other titles to choose from.
I remain permanently amazed that no one ever made films or even miniseries out of these books. In the best ones, the suspense and the romance are inextricable from one another, the settings are integral to the plot, and the heroines are never damsels in distress, as the heroes are never cardboard leads; and even the lesser ones have some break from formula that makes them worthwhile. I will admit that I'm not as fond of the more Gothic novels, like The Gabriel Hounds or The Ivy Tree, although for some reason I do like Nine Coaches Waiting—perhaps because it takes so many Brontë themes and plays pretzel with them—but I've only ever disliked one.*** They're comfort reading, I suppose, and I've read them so many times that I could probably recite scenes from memory if pressed, but I also think they're not without literary value. And so filmable! For God's sake, am I the only person who has ever wanted to see Derek Jacobi play Sir Julian Gale?
. . . Well, I still do. And now I should sleep before I start casting the rest of the books in my head. I suspect most of the actors I'd like to have seen in the roles are no longer alive, anyway. Alas.
*My mother collects Georgette Heyers in the same way, although so far I've imprinted only on Mary Stewart. (It didn't hurt that I fell in love with The Crystal Cave and the rest of her Merlin trilogy in about seventh grade.) By now, we have hardcovers of all of Stewart's suspense-romances with the exception of Wildfire at Midnight, which I finally gave up on and bought as a reprint, and The Wind Off the Small Isles, which I've never found. I don't think that one was ever published in the U.S., however; so I have something of an excuse.
**Airs Above the Ground is the other one I love. By all rights I should also adore The Moon-Spinners, for its Greek setting, but I still prefer the other two named above—My Brother Michael and This Rough Magic.
***The Stormy Petrel. I don't know if this is because it was written much later (1991, whereas most of her novels are from the 1950's and '60's and set accordingly; Madam, Will You Talk?, for example, is a very post-war novel) or because it simply didn't work, but . . . I don't recommend. Fortunately, you have many other titles to choose from.
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