Under King Charles II, England's New World colonies are flourishing, as is France's colony Louisianne. Napolean is the dreaded Master of the European continent . . . And Sarah Cunningham, a woman from our own world, knows all too well what a difference this makes, for not long ago she was ripped from her life as a United States citizen in our history.
Sarah, now the Duchess of Wessex, journeys to North America with her new husband, the Duke--but this is no pleasure trip. The fate of the world--New and Old--rests on her saving her friend Meriel, rescuing Louis, rightful King of France, from the clutches of the Marquis de Sade, and finding the Holy Grail. But she and her beloved Duke are beset by perils that will test their strength and spirit to the utmost.
Andre Norton, born Alice Mary Norton, was a pioneering American author of science fiction and fantasy, widely regarded as the Grande Dame of those genres. She also wrote historical and contemporary fiction, publishing under the pen names Andre Alice Norton, Andrew North, and Allen Weston. She launched her career in 1934 with The Prince Commands, adopting the name “Andre” to appeal to a male readership. After working for the Cleveland Library System and the Library of Congress, she began publishing science fiction under “Andrew North” and fantasy under her own name. She became a full-time writer in 1958 and was known for her prolific output, including Star Man’s Son, 2250 A.D. and Witch World, the latter spawning a long-running series and shared universe. Norton was a founding member of the Swordsmen and Sorcerers' Guild of America and authored Quag Keep, the first novel based on the Dungeons & Dragons game. She influenced generations of writers, including Lois McMaster Bujold and Mercedes Lackey. Among her many honors were being the first woman named Gandalf Grand Master of Fantasy and SFWA Grand Master. In her later years, she established the High Hallack Library to support research in genre fiction. Her legacy continues with the Andre Norton Award for young adult science fiction and fantasy.
The book has had some interestingf moments. However I'm quite frankly tired of all the Napoleon-bashing in anglo-saxon literature. Are you even aware that, thanks to the defeat of Naporelon, your erstwhile allies kept people in serfdom for another generation, or, in case of Russia, for two? That legislature and science were pushed backward with return of the Bourbons to the throne of France? but nooo, perfidious Albion cared only for their colonial interests. And as extreme egalist, it gales me to no end such blatant glorification of nobility and royalty, of all the 'ties to the land' nonsense. I'm so glad this wasn't a trilogy
This may well have been Norton's last book, and there's some evidence she didn't even live to finish it, since it was almost certainly she who wrote the bulk of the footnotes, which make it about a third the way through.
This book returns to New Orleans, in an earlier period than her first book, Ralestone Luck, and in an alternate universe. Though marred by the authors' fondness for grotesqueries, it has some nice elements. I still prefer the first volume, Shadow over Albion, which was a sort of Scarlet Pimpernel story, with elements of elfin glamorie.
This series was evidently meant to be a trilogy, but I haven't seen any sign of a third volume.
Okay, now I've actually got a copy of my own, and can add detailed critiques.
The preface argues (not particularly convincingly) that if the originators of the French Revolution had not had the American Revolution as a template, the French Revolution would have been much more violent. But this ignores the fact that both Revolutions were based on the works of philosophers such as Rousseau and Locke--which in turn were at least partly based on quasi-anthropological studies of such groups as the Iroquois League. The resounding language of people like Jefferson did have a great deal of influence: but it's unlikely that it would be totally determinative. The authors' unabashed royalist bias (based on the Sacred Marriage of the King with the Land) has clearly influenced their interpretation of events--which leaves room for revisionist texts based in the same alternate world. Other points of divergence would be things like the demonization of Napoleon. Napoleon definitely had his flaws, but he also had some good qualities. He was a notable patron of the arts and sciences, though he himself had little ear for such things. Arguing that all the art works in Napoleonic Paris were 'stolen' is essentially to argue that all innovation stopped with the Revolution.
The main text of this volume begins with a 'satanic' ritual by the Marquis de Sade. People familiar with the slanders of the later Roman Empire will recognize a lot of the symbolism.
Then a royal wedding follows. I had forgotten this. I knew the royal wedding was in planning, but hadn't realized it had been so long delayed.
The translation of the focus to America occurs further in than I've gotten so far in this rereading, so I'll focus on the details later, since I have only sketchy recall of detail.
The description of an American Baltimore that remains under British rule (and where the slaves were freed by royal fiat) is not particularly detailed. The focus of action moves away from what is essentially a trading colony too fast to get more than a glimpse.
The same applies, in a way, to the description of a Cree town (a trade embassy from Canada), and of 'Nouvelle Orleans' and what appears to be Kahokia (except that in our world, Kahokia was entirely native built, and mostly not built in stone). Though most of the action takes place in Nouvelle Orleans, the town is so altered almost at once that it's almost impossible to discern the lineaments of the city as it existed at the time.
There are several incongruities, particularly noticeable to someone who's lived in the area. For one thing, nobody digs tunnels in Southern Louisiana. There's a legend that the Lafittes (prominently figured in this story) did have one such tunnel, from the blacksmith shop out of the city. But the problem with digging underground in that area is that the water table is about two inches below the ground. To create a pond, you just dig a hole--as my calluses can bear witness. This is one of the reasons that there are no graveyards in New Orleans--all cemeteries have mausoleums only. Keeping underground tunnels free of water would be a full-time task.
Furthermore, it DOES snow in the New Orleans area. It's very rare: I remember seasoned reporters having snowball fights one year, and also one time when it snowed in the morning, and was 70 degrees in the afternoon. And every time a single flake fell, school was cancelled. On the other hand, the only time school was cancelled due to rain was when one of the teachers reported that a neighbor had rowed a pirogue up to her front door.
The fears of native animals in the bayous seem bizarre to me. I lived in the area for many years, and never had a dangerous encounter with an animal. There are alligators in the area, true: but I never saw one, and they're generally not aggressive anyway. The attribution of 'evil' to wild animals is one I've never understood. The greatest danger in the area, pretty generally, was fire. The threat to the city in the book, in fact, is fire. Floods are also a danger, but not generally as great, because in most places building and settlement takes account of the risk of floods.
One major point: the edges of waterways in the area (as in many other 'netherlands'--low lying areas, that is) are naturally edged with vegetation. According to the book Water: A Natural History, these quondam flooded fringe areas allow regular water rises without catastrophic effects on neighboring areas. If the landowners in the area have removed this vegetation and put in levees in this area as their equivalents did in our world (as it appears they have), the flooding would become less frequent and more catastrophic--as it did in our world.
The ruthlessness of various characters makes their supercilious attitude toward the 'diabolist' de Sade more than a little hypocritical. The notion that killing is a meritorious act makes it untenable to deride anybody else who kills. The Duke of Wessex has an awareness of this, and more and more is disgusted with the 'Shadow Game'. But he doesn't seem to recognize that he has any responsibility to recognize that others are also culpable.
The biography of the authors at the end of the book says that they were working on the third book in the series at the time of the publication of volume II. I'll have a look about, but I have doubts about whether it was ever finished or published. The establishment of an independent nation of Louisianne is clearly a world-changing development--but it's not clear where the story is meant to go from there. About in the middle of the book, Sarah has a dystopian vision of the future, but it's not clear how the vision can be prevented. Presumably the third book would deal with that.
This is the second book in the Carolus Rex series, which shows an alternate history. Events have differed so that the Protestant Stuart line continues on the throne and the Thirteen Colonies remain colonies without rebelling because a different, benevolent king ruled England and its properties. The only revolution in this history is the bloody French one, which ends with the despot Napoleon making himself emperor. Thus, democracy doesn't happen anywhere, especially not since the French Revolution showed what horrors rebellion against the proper order brings.
And life is so much better without the United States and democracies or republics being started. The Indians aren't being encroached on. (To which I say, What? Westward expansion after the Louisiana Purchase wasn't the start of the dispossession of the American Indians.) For whatever reason, the denizens of New Albion don't want to claim farmland away from the natives as their United States counterparts did. Slavery has been ended in the colonies, without bloodshed. Jefferson, a loyal colonial official, marries his free love, Sally Hemmings. Magic is still in the world. (Don't ask me whether this last one is part of the changes made by the event that creates this alternate history or if it was always there. I don't believe that the series says.)
The Louisiana Purchase never occurred, and this French-owned territory is a big part of the plot. The plot itself is engrossing enough once you get past all the chunks of alt-history exposition and explanation of the last book dumped into the first two chapters.
But my own biases kept getting in the way of any enjoyment. I have a Thing about the innate blood superiority of the aristocracy. It's hard for me to read stories obsessed with getting a true heir of the blood on a throne because I always ask the inconvenient questions of whether he'd be a good ruler and if he has any qualifications aside from what family he came from.
In this novel and its predecessor, The Shadow of Albion, Louis feels as I do. The events of Leopard in Exile, of course, prove him wrong in wondering such things.
Here, kings and nobles are the unchallenged proper rulers of society. Anything else leads to chaos. France is in such trouble because it has no king of the proper blood to rule her. (I think the problem is Napoleon and his minions--like Talleyrand and de Sade--being who and what they are, but what do I know?) The Polish method of electing its kings is subtly sneered at as inferior and not as potent. Noble blood must rule; it cannot deny the rightness of it. Sarah, originally from the United States of our reality, sees how much better things are in this alternate reality, since there she has a chance to stop the death of the land that is our reality's ultimate fate since we turned our back on the land's needs. And on and on.
Our heroes are all nobility, with the exception of two rogues who will later denounce their roguish ways to bow their heads to the rule of a proper king. The secondary characters are mostly slaves, Indians, noble-born spies, and happy servants of the nobility. Anyone else of middle or lower class is shown as colorful or somewhat ridiculous.
If you have problems with characters speaking various dialects presented phonetically, steer well away.
I know that the authors are approximating the style and conventions of a certain type of Regency romance. That doesn't mean I have to support it.
The book's a fast, page-turning read once you get past the chunky mire of early exposition, but I ended it feeling really annoyed.
Leopard in Exile is the sequel to The Shadow of Albion, which I thought was fairly entertaining. Sadly, Leopard in Exile is not.
The world's magical structure is poorly worked out; it's a mishmash of elements from British faery lore, Native American beliefs, Satanist black magic, and even Arthurian legend (the Holy Grail). The plot is absurdly contrived, the alternate history unconvincing (why would the American colonies under the Stuarts be more friendly to the native Americans than they were under Hanoverian rule?), and the characters poorly fleshed out.
There's almost nothing of the relationship between Wessex and Sarah which was forged in the first book, just a lot of agonizing about how much they love each other, with very little interaction between them which shows rather than tells. Wessex's desperate search for Sarah, who has gone to the New World to help her friend Meriel, is a driving force behind much of the plot, but as there seems to be no depth to their relationship, it's next to impossible to feel any urgency about the search.
And worst of all, the narrative includes footnotes, which are very difficult to use effectively in fiction without distracting the reader from the flow of the action; here, they are overly self-conscious, frequently patronizing (the note explaining the bill which abolished slavery in Britain and its dominions ends "Aren't you glad I'm here to tell you these things?"), often useless (defining a recaumier as "A couch to you", when it's clear from the context anyway), and generally aggravating. Do we really need a reference to a web site about jambalaya when it's served to one of the characters? Surely not. I cannot imagine what the authors (or their editor) could have been thinking to include these idiotic, distracting notes.
I still think The Shadow of Albion was worth reading, but by all means, avoid the sequel. (Hey, and I didn't even mention the gratuitous Star Wars reference or the meaningless appearance of a character from one of Edghill's other books - duly noted in the footnotes, of course).
As a rule I don't read a lot of historical fiction but the supernatural twist promised in this one hooked me and tugged at my curiosity. It was a slow starter for me--and to be fair, that's most likely because I didn't read the first book in the series--but somewhere in the middle it became a bit easier to read. I do tend to like a book that can stand alone even if it's from the middle of a series so I felt at sea for a time. In the end I found the history intriguing and enjoyed the twist of an America that never bothered to revolt from Mother England. As speculative fiction goes, it's fun to entertain the notion. It's also interesting to note how England is definitively the "good guy" in this story--rather ignoring a couple centuries of atrocities committed one way or another on other unsuspecting countries in effort to make "the sun never set on the British Empire". I guess in the face of the Marquis de Sade, they were the lesser evil. That being said, for better or for worse, I'll take our reality over the one in the book any day.
In this second volume in this series of magical/historical romance, the Duke and Duchess of Wessex must oppose a complicated plot by an insane black wizard (once the Marquis de Sade) to build himself a demonic kingdom in Louisiana by offering the Lost Dauphin to Hell in a demonic sacrifice. The action is in jerky installments, there are too many point-of-view characters, & the Duke is continually reacting as opposed to taking charge, but Andre Norton's imagination & world-building skills shine thru.
Leopard in Exile is from the Carolus Rex series Book 2. I received this book as a Christmas present, without book 1 but I figured, what the heck, and read it anyway. While I probably missed some great world-building and action, book 2 was just fine. This is an alternate timeline, fantasy universe. The world-building was incredible, and I loved the way history and magic were interwoven into the story. A fantastic bit of fantasy.
This is the sequel to Shadow of Albion. Moving from the battlefields of Europe to the New World, this epic fantasy tells the story of a history that might have been, in a world only slightly different from our own.
I do not know why Ms. Norton and Ms. Edghill called this duology "Carolus Rex" when neither of the kings involved were named Charles. However, the alternate history began with the son of Charles II ascending the English throne, so ... Hmmm.
Much darker than the first book in the Carolus Rex series. But it drew me in. The parallel universe they created is fascinating. The characters intriguing. The footnotes were fun and informative. It's a good read. Highly recommended.
An excellent sequel. More magical than it's predecessor and definitely darker. But good wins out in the end and lovers are reunited after numerous adventures. The heroes triumph and evil is defeated. What more can be asked?
There's a perfectly adequate plot in here somewhere, involving the Holy Grail, the ex-Dauphin of France, and the Marquis de Sade. I assume Norton is probably responsible for the plot; I also assume she had nothing else whatever to do with the writing of the book.
The writing style is of course not Norton; as in all the Norton collaborations it's far smoother than anything she has ever written herself. The problem, I think, is mainly one of attitude.
This rather light alternate-history Regency is loaded with footnotes. Some of these footnotes contain genuinely interesting information, or clarify points that might need clarifying, when one is mucking about with early 19th century history, of which many readers will have somewhat fuzzy retention of even the real facts. Others, unfortunately, seem to assume the reader is barely literate, or seem designed to make the reader feel slightly off base, or to be intended merely to show off the vast amount of research Ms. Edghill has done.
Item: on page 95, we have Meriel picking up her ridicule--which is, of course, footnoted; it's footnote number 21. In the footnote we learn that it's a purse, otherwise known at the time as reticule or budget. Is there a reason, other than forcing as many readers as possible to look at the footnote and see all the research Ms. Edghill has done, to use "ridicule" rather than "reticule" or "budget", either of which would be confidently recognized in context by a far larger percentage of her readers?
Item: on page 344, we have the motto, "Piété, Justice, Liberté"--and also footnote number 67, helpfully translating this for the reader as "Piety, Justice, Liberty". Is there a reason for this footnote, other than assuming that the reader is barely literate?
On page 263, we have footnote 51, providing the url for a selection of jambalaya recipes, "Since no book set in New Orleans is complete without a discussion of the food..."
I could go on, listing foolish, gratuitous, or annoying footnotes, the places where I think she chose an obscure word or phrase rather than an equally correct but less obscure one solely to allow her to footnote it, or footnotes that provide far more information than the reader needs, but I think I've provided enough to capture something of the flavor of them. I should probably also say something about the numerous occasions when the characters behave like idiots, because behaving sensibly would cut short portions of the plot that Ms. Edghill wishes to spend more time on, but, as I write this, it's far too hot.
Fantasy, alternative-history style. I enjoyed the 1st book, The Shadow of Albion, the second didn't quite live up to it but it was a decent enough follow-up. This adventure pulls Sarah, our clever protagonist, into the US where much political and societal intrigue and mystery happens which only Sarah and friends can deduce. It's a good adventure but I don't think I'd re-read it. It also reminds me a bit of Sally Lockhart and her adventures in Phillip Pullman's novels and I think that is what interested me in these books to begin with.
Started rather slow and filled with miscommunications (no one's fault, but it was rather frustrating having one character arrive at a meeting place to find out the other person has already left), but the latter part of the book definitely picked up its pace, rising to a chilling crescendo. I liked all the characters here, liked that Sarah was given as much agency as Wessex, and even the beautiful but mousy Meriel had a backbone.
A good and satisfying romp in an alternate America that never rebelled against England.