I was interested in this book reading about Sydney Owenson Morgan. The reviews here go from terrible to very good, and I found the book a looong read. The epistolary style wasn't that bad, and I liked Mortimer and Glorvina. My problem was very long passages showing Owenson's erudition...three pages that I had to pass over, and over and over Mortimer talks of how wonderful Ireland is, and doesn't advance the plot. I was recalled of London's Sea Wolf, which was a tough story of survival and social conflict, but when our hero runs off with his girl, it becomes soppy and dull until Wolf Larsen comes back on the scene. Same here.
I miss Jane Austen's plotting and character build-up (these two women should have met), and it's strange Owenson, who is a woman, uses Mortimer as her narrator, an English lord.
However, we have to see the historical context of the book, written after the Union Act, which in effect made Ireland a colony. Owenson uses Glorvina as a heroine demanding Ireland's past glory and poetic strength be recognized. A more contemporary writer writer might have spoken more about the common people and their problems, but Owenson did the best she could, and the book was a best-seller, making her career. She was a kind of Glorvina, becoming a performer in order to sell her offerings...coming from a family of actors, this was natural.
As it was, I wanted to give this two stars, but gave three when I hit the last forty pages. Then, the epistolary style is dropped and Owenson goes to third person, and her prose is strong and compelling, as is description and emotions. I thought 'why didn't Owenson do this a hundred pages ago?' I appreciate this book, and as a screenwriter, I'm sure there's a BBC adaptation here waiting to break out. I enjoyed it intellectually. My heart wasn't in it, but I appreciated Owenson's effort and her knowledge. I have to read another book of hers.