My father-in-law gave me this book after reading an advertisement for it in the New Yorker. When he brought it over he said, "This lady sounds like soMy father-in-law gave me this book after reading an advertisement for it in the New Yorker. When he brought it over he said, "This lady sounds like someone you'd be interested in knowing about."
Lady Anne Barnard was indeed a fascinating character, but I'm not sure Stephen Taylor really brings her together in this book. The beginning starts out in familiar territory to anyone who's ever read a biography of an 18th century British woman: parents are disappointed in her for being a girl, raised in tenuous position in society, terrible childhood, etc. As she moves through her adolescence and young adulthood, Lady Anne Lindsay (her maiden name) was a bit of a coquette, and Taylor makes her out to be fairly wishy-washy about any and all of her suitors, and presents her decisions not to marry them as short-sighted. He doesn't seem to delve very deeply into her feelings despite references to a wealth of her writing including letters (which are quoted at some points) surviving. She has some success early on in the intellectual circles in her native Scotland, but Taylor glosses over these incidents in favor of her romantic entanglements.
Lady Anne was certainly quick witted, and good at making herself a desired guest in society first in Scotland, and then in London. She had a deep relationship with her sister Margaret, and cares for her through a rough marriage to a con man. But really, the book drags until the section where Anne finally meets and marries Andrew Barnard in her 40s, long past the time when most women are married, and obviously too old to bear children.
Once Anne marries, and she and Andrew take off for South Africa in a plum post for Andrew, the book becomes much more interesting, and this is, I believe, because the subject is near and dear to Taylor, as he's written a book about the colony there already. Here he shows far more nuance in how Anne perceives the segregated society, the political hierarchy of the colony, and her role as a reporter to the British government about what goes on there. Taylor paints a beautiful picture of the landscape, and includes several images that Anne herself painted or drew while there.
And yet, once Anne returns to London, the book again dulls. There are many interesting threads that could have been pursued more rigorously, particularly how Anne fostered her husband's illegitimate children and some of her nieces and nephews. Most fascinating to me were the short references to a child that Andrew fathered with a slave in South Africa after he had parted from Anne for another posting there. I wish Taylor had spent more time on this.
Taylor also elides over most of Anne's writing, despite the fact that she is presented as a "woman of letters." He certainly mentions her authorship of the ballad of "Auld Robin Grey," but doesn't mention much more. I feel like this story is left half-told, and again, while Lady Anne is certainly a fascinating character, she isn't done too many favors in this treatment of her....more
My father in law gave this one to me for Christmas, since it featured the Curse of Tutankhamen and I am an avid fan of Egyptology. But this is not a bMy father in law gave this one to me for Christmas, since it featured the Curse of Tutankhamen and I am an avid fan of Egyptology. But this is not a book about the Curse of Tutankhamen or Egyptology.
The first part of the book was interesting enough. It covers the discovery of Tut's tomb by Howard Carter and Lord Carnarvon, and begins to explore the popular theory that those who were involved in the opening of the tomb were cursed and died mysteriously. My first inkling that something was amiss about this book was that the author seemed to actually believe in the curse. It's an interesting story, but when you examine the facts, there's nothing mysterious about the deaths. Lord Carnarvon succumbed to blood poisoning from an infected mosquito bite exacerbated by a shaving cut. In 1923 Cairo, without the benefit of modern medicine, it's not a strange story. The curse story relies on people looking for coincidences. If you look hard enough, there are coincidences in everything. The second red flag came when the author attributes the shooting death of Ali Kemal Fahmy Bey, by his wife, Marguerite Fahmy, to the curse of Tutankhamen. The connection is tenuous at best--Fahmy was a wealthy Egyptian and visited the tomb during his honeymoon with Mme. Fahmy. (This is the second time I've read a disappointing book involving this shooting, the first was book:The Woman Before Wallis: Prince Edward, the Parisian Courtesan, and the Perfect Murder|17167298], which was also a 1-star story. Last time the author spent the entire book trying to make the incident a conspiracy involving the Prince of Wales. This time the conspiracy involved the Curse of Tutankhamen... for the first part of the book.) Beynon recounts a number of deaths and how he feels they are suspicious, and ends up wandering a lot. There are some interesting anecdotes about West End London that have nothing to do with the story, but mostly he's repeating himself over and over.
The second part of the book isn't about King Tut in the slightest. It's about Aleister Crowley, the less than savory occultist. There's an unaccountable amount of bunk, speculation, and inanity here, involving Crowley's occult activities into "sex magick" (you always know a real occultist by the addition of the "k" to magic) and his strange beliefs, particularly his following an Egyptian spirit named Aiwass. Now here's the kicker: after trawling through Crowley's life of debauchery, Beynon makes his grand assertion: Aiwass directed Crowley to commit all the murders that were later assumed to be the result of Tut's Curse. With no evidence whatsoever, he outlines how Crowley must have committed the murders. For example, since he and Marguerite Meller (later Fahmy) frequented the same Paris nightclubs in the same time period, he obviously must have met her and known her (his "evidence" is a vaguely worded throwaway journal entry about a woman named Dorothy). Then he later wrote to her a coded anonymous note to shoot her husband at the Savoy, which faced Cleopatra's Needle. Wow. That was seriously far-fetched. Beynon also believes that Crowley was able to poison multiple people with laudanum to fake the appearance of typhoid fever or pneumonia.
From this, Beynon goes on a rambling tangent about how Crowley was connected to Jack the Ripper... I don't need to go on. Don't waste your time on this one. It has no merit at all, and very few facts are cited. If you like crackpot conspiracy theories based on the alignment of the planets, then this one's for you....more
For a biography of a such a well chronicled woman, Paul Spicer skips over most details and creates a light, fluffy portrait of Alice de Janze. De JanzFor a biography of a such a well chronicled woman, Paul Spicer skips over most details and creates a light, fluffy portrait of Alice de Janze. De Janze is an American heiress from New York, raised by her mother's family in Chicago, who suffers from a form of bipolar disorder. A quick sketch of her life: she marries a French count, has two daughters, and moves to the Wanhoji Valley in Kenya, then a British colony. She spends most of the rest of her life in Kenya, away from her children, has many love affairs, including one which resulted in a murder-suicide attempt. In the end, the depressive part of her disorder begins to subsume her, and she takes her own life, in her own beloved Kenyan home, surrounded by flowers.
De Janze is a fascinating person from many angles: historically, psychologically, socially. And despite the wealth of information available to Spicer, he paints her life in broad brushstrokes without much detail. He is far more interested in the unsolved killing of Lord Errol, a longtime companion and lover of de Janze. The main thrust of the book is his argument that the killer was actually de Janze herself. It is an interesting story, but his interest in the case causes him to skip over some of the more relevant parts of de Janze's life and then spend two chapters intimately detailed the murder and following trial.
I was markedly surprised at Spicer's lack of detail because he had access to so many primary sources. She was raised by her grandparents, part of the Chicago Armour family (still a giant in the meatpacking industry), and as a socialite, she was featured often in the newspapers of the time. Her wedding to Frederic de Janze was a huge social event. There were letters written between her and her family when she moved to France. He even met and spoke with de Janze's surviving daughter who allowed him to read letters and use photos, in addition to speaking to him about her experiences with her mother. De Janze's attempt to kill Raymund de Traffant at the Gare du Nord was covered in the news, as well as the trial afterward. Perhaps most prized of all, Spicer's mother was a friend of de Janze and spent several years as her neighbor in Kenya. In his introduction he mentions scrapbooks his mother kept, and yet, there's hardly a mention of what they contained.
In the end, this is a nice piece, very fluffy and just the right level for someone interested in high society in the 1920s and 30s in France, Britain, and the British colony of Kenya. The descriptions of the landscape of Kenya are fantastic. And yet, if you wanted to know about Alice de Janze, I'd suggest starting elsewhere. She was part of what was known as the "Happy Valley set" in Kenya--a group of wealthy expats who gathered in the Wanhoji Valley for a number of years. My next stop is to find a book about the Happy Valley set in general to supplement this volume....more
I found this book via Å·±¦ÓéÀÖ recommendations and it found its way under the Christmas tree. I was pretty darn excited about the topic: high class PI found this book via Å·±¦ÓéÀÖ recommendations and it found its way under the Christmas tree. I was pretty darn excited about the topic: high class Parisian courtesan! Royalty! Murder! Interwar Europe!
And yet, this book was a supreme disappointment.
The book is based around a murder that took place in London in 1923. Marguerite Fahmy, Parisian courtesan and socialite, shot her husband, Ali Kemal Fahmy bey, in the hallway of the Savoy Hotel, just outside the suite they were staying in. If the book had covered Marguerite's previous life, marriage to Fahmy, the murder, the trial, and Marguerite's post-script, it could have been a good historical narrative. Unfortunately, the author here decided to wrap the story around a tangential connection that Marguerite had with Edward, Prince of Wales (later Edward VIII).
Marguerite did have a brief dalliance with Edward in 1918, and there were some love letters exchanged. Rose decided that this was the most important part of the story, and inserted Edward and his entourage (with excruciating detail) into every possible part of the book. I didn't know much about Edward going in, but declared within the first chapter that he was a jerk, to which my husband replied, yes, he was a jerk, didn't you know that? He was a notorious jerk.
Edward got the bulk of the good writing as well, including an overview of how he thought or felt at certain points, and his motives for doing things, as well as every possible detail from what he wore to a certain party to his predilection for misplacing the apostrophe in contractions (do'nt instead of don't).
Side note: I can't believe this book went to press without spell check. I caught several typos in the text, including "preffering" and Musssolini. Surely a good spellchecker would know that Mussolini did not have three s'es in his name.
Rose's treatment of Marguerite glosses over much of her early life and career, unless he had an opportunity to name drop. Another side note: I am not intimately familiar with the British aristocracy, and often had no idea who Lady and Lord Smith-Jones-Cumblebumblepants were.
Marguerite was certainly an interesting woman, although we only know her as a selfish, superficial bitch, characterized by Edward. I'm not saying she was the nicest person in the world, but I'm sure she had thoughts and feelings which were displayed in her letters (which, unlike Edward's, were hardly mentioned at all and never quoted). Under Rose's pen, she is a two dimensional plot point. We learn very little as well about Fahmy, other than he is a wealthy Egyptian of rank.
One might think that the crescendo to climax part of the book would be the murder trial itself, but no, Rose instead spends pages and pages explaining how the trial was rigged by the Prince's handlers through secret meetings and now-lost notes, all in the name of making sure Marguerite never mentioned the Prince at trial. Given the fact that the affair was long over and forgotten, and the only thing Marguerite might have had were some love letters (which Rose never proves existed or were given back), plus the fact that the trial was concerning the murder at hand, it seems ridiculously improbable that the Prince's name would have come up.
All in all, a dull read, unless you are interested in learning the life stories of the men who made up the Prince's entourage. It's generally difficult to make a sensational murder trial into a boring book, but Rose's attempt to put me to sleep is a wild success. (Literally. I often fell asleep reading this book.)...more
The only reason this book took me so long to finish is that I read it aloud to my husband at bedtime. Picard creates a fascinating account of life in The only reason this book took me so long to finish is that I read it aloud to my husband at bedtime. Picard creates a fascinating account of life in 18th century London, and the best part is definitely the largest, first section that deals with the poorest element. The descriptions are very visual, easy to read, and fascinating. Picard also writes with a good sense of humor, making for some laugh out loud moments. And her research is impeccable, working with original sources. Highly recommended....more
I'm a big fan of history and mysteries, so I thought this would be perfect. I think for some this book might be a disappointment in that there is no cI'm a big fan of history and mysteries, so I thought this would be perfect. I think for some this book might be a disappointment in that there is no complete answer to the puzzle--but that's a function of the lack of forensic science of the time, and the limitations of detective work.
Summerscale has added a lot of information about the case, and also taken great pains to set it in historical context, noting the impact this real-life event had on many popular detective novels from the same time period, including "The Mystery of Edwin Drood" by Dickins, "The Moonstone" by Collins, and "The Woman in White."
I would add, if you're going to read this, look for the updated paperback version--it included a few new photos and notes regarding Mr. Whicher that were very interesting....more
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