Before I read Wideacre, I noticed a number of reviewers compared the heroine Beatrice Lacey to Scarlett O’Hara, presumably because of Beatrice’s lack of introspection, ability to manipulate men through her sexuality, and her obsessive love of the land. However, in a one-on-one battle of wills, there is no contest. Beatrice would have Scarlett for breakfast, sleep with both Rhett and Ashley, and find a way for her heirs to inherit Tara…all before her morning chocolate.
The other similarity with Gone With the Wind is that even when the reader (at least this reader) finds herself shaking her head at some of the improbable plot twists, the book is a great, cracking read and literally impossible to put down. Furthermore, unlike Mitchell, Gregory is a true historian, and the fine details about the relationship between the gentry and peasants, agricultural practices, estate management, and enclosure not only ring true but are genuinely educational, not sentimental. The history is expertly woven into the plot yet teaches the reader a great deal about life during the period in which the novel is set.
*Here Comes the Spoilers (trying to keep them minimal but read at your own risk)*
That being said, I have to say that even as someone with a very high tolerance for antiheroes (and for what it’s worth, as a writer myself who has written a book narrated by what could be considered an antihero), Beatrice turned my stomach at certain points. My favorite part of the book was the first hundred pages about the tomboyish child Beatrice, when she was riding horses and learning about the land from her father. Once she commits murder she starts to become so unremittingly wicked so quickly the novel seems to switch from a relatively realistic tone to a Gothic register. Don’t get me wrong, I love a good old-fashioned unreliable narrator but Beatrice becomes a wicked person who just does more and more wicked things to the point of…er…overkill. She does have sympathetic moments in terms of her love of the land and her child but they are few and far between.
The lack of intelligent characters to buffer Beatrice’s presence, with the exception of her husband, can also give the novel a one-dimensional quality although I simply had to know how it ended.
Still, the first hundred pages, the scenes depicting riding and racing, as well as the final chapters as Beatrice waits for her death are so beautifully written this book is well worth a read and is still highly recommended. It did give me nightmares, but in a good way. I was wondering when I started to read it why it had so many five-star and one-star reviews (and I always have to read a book with tons of five and one-star reviews). Now I know. Rather than Gone With The Wind (or Gone With the Wind meets Flowers in the Attic, as I read it hilariously reviewed by one reader) I would say that it’s a bit like a 18th century version of I, Claudius—narrated by Livia. And I’m very fond of I, Claudius.