What do you think?
Rate this book


256 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1943
"...written in the first person and comes complete with heaving breasts, ripped silk, tight corsets, showers of kisses, and in obedience to some immutable rule of romantic writing, euphemism-laden sexual congress at least once every fifteen pages."The author was very eyeroll-ish (I've decided that's a word) over the book and I decided that I should test the description for accuracy, especially the bit about a euphemism every 15 pages, because that sounded humorous at least.
"...I had often run with a gang of buckle thieves, up and down St. James, when I was a mere, chit, so this was familiar ground. A dozen or twenty of us would wait, shivering in our rags, blue-fingered and sniveling, near the entrance of clubs or playhouses. When the fine folk drove up in their coaches, and their lackeys gripped wrists to make a seat to lift their masters and ladies across the reeking gutters, we would close in like a dog-pack, pull the shoes from the dangled feet of some feathered dame, or ruffled gent; and make off before the footman or link-boys could lay hands on us."I remember reading somewhere about buckle thieves and their methods, but can't remember where.
"...I could not bring myself to put on my gown, the stench of it sickened me. Naked, I walked out of the cabinet.And she refuses, even when he offers something clean, "not till yer pay me."And of course it's a misunderstanding. Spoiler, he's a painter and wants her to sit for him. In theory - by which I mean "details here aren't all factual and we're in historical fiction territory" - he's Thomas Gainsborough.
...I gulped hard before I could stammer, "Where...where d'ye want me to lie down?"
Later he told me he had thought me a child until he saw my full breasts, and the ruddy triangle that revealed the woman. Even so he was shocked, and annoyed at his own embarrassment when he realized my lack of self-consciousness.
"Get into your clothes, slut!" he shouted."
"..."Kitty! Kitty! Let lady Pinchnose teach you the conventions, I'll teach you love; a passion-wise mistress is worth a dozen blue stockings!"Ok the cutting up part not so funny, but the gutter-rag as an endearment, yes.
My senses were warmed by Hugh's fire. Often when he held me, thrilling and trembling, I would fight him off that I might retain some reserve against his blandishments. He would freeze into a stillness that left us both throbbing and breathless, then he forced me to yield with greater abandon. "Little gutter-rag! You please me," he whispered in a transport, as he caught the tip of my ear with his teeth, "if ever you try to find a better man, I'll cut you to pieces!" "
"Now, Kitty, read that last sentence again," Lady Susan prodded. "H...ero, H...eard, the H...ound H...owling. Be careful of your h's! Read it again!I'll note here that Shaw's Pygmalion, which was adapted into My Fair Lady, was written in 1912. Of course the Greek myth itself is ancient, and Shaw was apparently inspired by Gilbert's Pygmalion and Galatea from 1871. But the teaching sections here definitely recall My Fair Lady.
"Enjoying creature comforts and Hugh's amorous love-making, womanhood flowered in my full busts, my firm clear skin. The natural, the untrammeled, were Hugh's standards of feminine beauty. He told me, with wrinkling nose, "I've slept with women who did not remove their underclothes once a year! You must be like the Greek maidens, your body free and flexible."First, busts is indeed what is in the book. Second, I wonder if after a year the underclothes would become inflexible. No, I think they'd just disintegrate. ...Apparently the important point of Hugh's speech is that Kitty isn't allowed to wear stays. Which we all know is the sign of a loose woman. (Chortle.)
"That satin skin of yours is pulled over a framework of tempered steel, that melting flesh is as sturdy as a young bulldog's. The pink, the blue, the gold of you, is but a mist of illusion that veils the adamant beneath!"
"Are you two plotting to make me marry [removed due to spoilers though you're clued in on this way early on]? ...What if I won't?"And of course she lets him back into her bedroom the next night anyway. There's no apology.
"I'll break your head," Hugh said quietly.
I leaped backward to dodge his raised hand - the sight of that threatening hand enraged me, "Maybe I will marry him!" I shrieked.
The hand struck a blow on my head that stunned me."
"...Towering masses of powdered hair topped their heads, this mass was bedecked with laces, feathers, stuffed birds, flowers, and jewels; many were made more vivid by vegetables from the green-grocer's cart - carrots and radishes being the most in favor."
"Brute! ...I thought you were sad because I married [the "not really a spoiler" guy from earlier]!"And yeah, he kinda would. So really, why DO you like Sir Hugh? Because everyone else in the book knows he's a weasel.
"I was, kitten-cat."
"Only because it wasn't [this other dude]."
"Well," he looked at me inquiringly, "Wouldn't you be said if the man of your heart were to marry another?"
"But now," I gasped, "you would marry me off to [this other dude]!"
"The velvet caress of the skins was like a million lips on my naked body. Hugh wrapped me in the folds and smoothed his hands down the lush padded curves.Um, ew, thanks to several phrases in there ("million lips" and the moisture on his lip - ugh). This is definitely a scene Macintyre was warning about. It's like the script for an old B movie. With a fur monster that has a million lips. ...Actually I now feel Macintyre's jokey warning wasn't warning enough and ended up spurring me into reading all this. And there really, really should be a warning somewhere...
There were little drops of moisture on his upper lip.
I leaned toward him. He backed me against the bed. Lying amidst the downy furs was almost like floating upon a cloud. He parted the deep folds and gazed at me and slowly traveled one finger from breast to navel, murmuring, "God! you're beautiful, Kit!"
"Chafing my bruised arms and pinched shoulders, I arose and bathed my burning cheeks in cold water, and rubbed soothing save into my kiss-bitten lips. How the Duke's old bones had hurt! What agonized strength in those match-stick wrists!"Perhaps she married a giant biting-pinching spider-crab monster. Because this does not sound like human-type sex. Though I suppose we should assume "burning cheeks" are a sign of embarrassment and not that he's set parts of her on fire.
"A child! An heir? The [TOD/SC] line will live!" Weeping real tears, he kissed my hands, my lips, my knees."Kinda random knee kissing there. I think you can figure out what's happening here, heir-wise. And then let there be fireworks and ale for the tenants! And [TOD/SC] makes her stare at the Blue Boy painting so that their son (he assumes) will look as handsome (more assuming!). Because the pregnant Greek women did this and someone said it worked. And she's again digging the dude in the painting.
"Are you real?" he murmured, "do you eat roast beef, and ...kiss?" Without warning he took me in his arms."I keep thinking it can't get any goofier. And then it does. Roast beef and thumb cushions.
"...never were my lips so shy! When, trembling, we drew apart, he wiped my cheek with the soft cushion of his thumb and touched the moisture to his lips."