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Jun. 23rd, 2009 10:05 amThe Grand Sophy is on a lot of people's lists of Favorite Heyers. It is not my favorite, I think - so far I still love Cotillion and Sprig Muslin best - but it is still pretty hilarious!
The Grand Sophy is basically The One With The Force Of Nature, i.e. Sophy. Sophy sweeps into her cousin's lives and promptly decides that they are all engaged to marry the wrong people and everything is quite wrong and that she is going to set it right! Cunningly! And with some horse theft! In true Heyer fashion, this necessitates a good many hijinks and culminates in a slapstick grand finale involving every major and minor character, a mustard poultice, and a basket of ducklings. There is also an oblivious and terrible poet and a Spanish countess whose idea of entertaining visitors in a grand fashion is to invite them to take a nap with her.
(This is another Heyer where I don't actually ship the main romantic couple at all, but then, I would find it hard to ship Sophy with anyone, because she's terrifying. Except maybe Francis Crawford of Lymond. The mental image of her setting calmly out to right all of his backstory angst gives me kind of a lot of joy!)
WARNING: There is a really awkwardly anti-Semitic scene smack in the middle of the book that I was glad to have been forewarned about, involving an Evil Jewish Moneylender in the good old Victorian style. :\ Though . . . . now I think about it, it is not that substantially different from the Jewish diamond dealer scene in Sarah Connor Chronicles, except that Sophy does not actually kill the guy . . .
The Grand Sophy is basically The One With The Force Of Nature, i.e. Sophy. Sophy sweeps into her cousin's lives and promptly decides that they are all engaged to marry the wrong people and everything is quite wrong and that she is going to set it right! Cunningly! And with some horse theft! In true Heyer fashion, this necessitates a good many hijinks and culminates in a slapstick grand finale involving every major and minor character, a mustard poultice, and a basket of ducklings. There is also an oblivious and terrible poet and a Spanish countess whose idea of entertaining visitors in a grand fashion is to invite them to take a nap with her.
(This is another Heyer where I don't actually ship the main romantic couple at all, but then, I would find it hard to ship Sophy with anyone, because she's terrifying. Except maybe Francis Crawford of Lymond. The mental image of her setting calmly out to right all of his backstory angst gives me kind of a lot of joy!)
WARNING: There is a really awkwardly anti-Semitic scene smack in the middle of the book that I was glad to have been forewarned about, involving an Evil Jewish Moneylender in the good old Victorian style. :\ Though . . . . now I think about it, it is not that substantially different from the Jewish diamond dealer scene in Sarah Connor Chronicles, except that Sophy does not actually kill the guy . . .
