Ever read a book then something like 7 to 10 years later you reread that same book? On purpose? Yeah, me neither. Until now. Okay, interesting opening, not true, but . . whatever… I did have a point in asking the question. So let’s try that again, eh?
Ever read a book, love it, put it in a pile of possible rereads, and finally get around to rereading it something like 7 years later and . . . not recognize the book at all? If the author hadn’t been dead since 1974, I’d seriously consider the possibility that they had completely rewritten the book some time between my first and second reading. But they were, still, dead during those years and so, makes me wonder, did I really read this book before?
I’ve occasionally seen mention of people wanting Heyer books to be turned into films. Some of the books might make interesting rom-coms (do they still actually make romantic comedies?), but this one? Nooo, not a good candidate for a romantic comedy. I say that with one breath while with the next note that this is one of the first times I’ve felt that a Heyer book needed to be made into a film. What gives, eh? Well, Heyer did write something like 18 books that were not romances, is this one of those? Nope, this one falls squarely inside the 24 Regency romances Heyer wrote. So, again, what gives? Simple enough: I’d loved to have seen certain actors play with the role, with the lead male role – it’d need the right actor in the lead (and the right ones in the supporting roles), and with that in hand, this would have made a great straight up comedy film. But not a romantic comedy. The lead female? Well, which one is that? Normally that’d be the romantic love interest, but there really isn’t one in this book, sure, there’s the woman the Duke is expected to marry, and has even proposed to, but that’s an arranged marriage, not a love marriage (there are some words that attempt to change that that get expressed, but no foundation was given to have those words be real, to be true, they just seemed there to keep this book from falling outside the romance category). Beyond the woman he asked to marry him, a Lady Harriet, there’s also the stunningly gorgeous Belinda who spends a good bit of time in the Duke’s company. She also has the intelligence of a butterfly, and the attention span of a ferret on sugar . . . and she also isn’t a love interest (or even a sexual interest) of the led male character. But enough of that.
Back in the days they were making a bunch of ballroom films, when was that, the 1980s? Well, I’m thinking of a specific period of time and know they made some before then and after then, but this would have made a great film in around that period of time. Slipped in amongst the others. With trappings of the others, but being in something of its own little genre. Harder to make the film today, though. Various reasons.
Right, so the story – for 24 years the Duke of Sale has lived and breathed as the Duke. From birth, for, you see, his father died before he was born (though, as was needed, after the good previous Duke had impregnated the current Duke’s mother), and the mother died in childbirth. So the fella was born a duke and without parents. He had a lot of servants, though, and several guardians. The main one being Lord Lionel, who is/was the former Duke’s brother. Lord Lionel is a bit conservative, and set in his ways, but has done everything possible to raise the baby Sale right. Though the Duke, who is not yet fully into his own power (the age of 25 is some magical number which will free Sale from all constraints and give him all of his money and wealth, which have, up to now, been safe-guarded for him) feels stifled and smothered. And very much wishes he was someone other than the Duke. Someone wealthy enough, say, not someone in one of the leaky roofed houses some of his tenants live in, but definitely someone other than the Duke.
There’s a reason, by the way, for why the Duke had been so smothered by attention, constrained in his pursuits – he was a very sickly child, and to the point that it was uncertain he’d live to see his first birthday. Even at the point of ‘now’ in the book, when the Duke is 24, he is still a rather weak looking, small, unhealthy looking man. Though he hasn’t been seriously ill in years.
Right, so, leaving a lot out to move on to: the Duke is given the opportunity to do two things at once, express himself as head of the family (which various people, including his guardian, that Lord Lionel guy, keep telling him he is (or will become? No, is)), and test the waters of being ‘a nobody from nowhere in particular.’ A family member, you see, has gotten himself into a bit of a mix-up and is being blackmailed. As head of the family, the Duke decides to go ‘make things right’, but there’s no need for him to go as himself, and many reasons not to do so (including ‘if they find out I’m a Duke, they’ll capture me and attempt to ransom me’). So the Duke sets off on a journey of self-discovery, acting as a Mr. Rufford (one of his many titles involves a ‘Rufford’) as he wanders the country side doing stuff.
The Foundling by the way? The name of the book? Well, it is true that the lead male character had both parents die pre-birth, or shortly thereafter, it is also true that he still had a large family, and is not really a ‘foundling’ by the definition being used in this specific book. No, the Foundling is actually that Belinda person I’ve previously mentioned. While she plays a big role in the book, there’s no inherent reason for the book to be named after her. Considering how much the book is mostly about the Duke, it should probably have been called something like ‘Mr. Rufford, the Duke’ (which is long, so maybe just ‘Rufford’).
Right, book good. I enjoyed it. Do not go into it expecting a romance, do go into it expecting a good bit of humor, though.
Rating: 4.89
October 17 2018