The Two Georges

by Richard Dreyfuss, Harry Turtledove

America, 1996. Airships ply the transport lanes between the great cities of the continent - from the capital at Victoria on the Potomac all the way to New Liverpool on the sunny California coast. Everywhere the North American Union is at peace, safe under the dominion of His Majesty Charles III - a peace that has held since the 1760s, when George Washington and George III struck an agreement commemorated in Gainsborough's immortal painting The Two Georges.

But now that peace is threatened. Styling themselves the "Sons of Liberty", separatists have brazenly stolen the Gainsborough painting - right out from under the nose of Colonel Thomas Bushell of the Royal American Mounted Police. Bushell knows his duty: he must recover the painting, whatever the cost. And prevent his superiors in government from paying the terrorists' ransom. But time is running out. And the painting could be anywhere in His Majesty's enormous North American domains...

Genres: Alternate History, Fiction, Science Fiction, Historical Fiction, Fantasy, Mystery, Steampunk

384 pages, Hardcover

First published February 28, 1996

About the author

Richard Stephen Dreyfuss is an Academy Award-winning American actor.

Dreyfuss has dabbled with writing, notably teaming up with Harry Turtledove in 1995 to write The Two Georges, a conspiracy thriller set in an alternate reality in which the American colonies remained under British rule.

Reviews

[Kara Babcock · Rating 2 out of 5]

Suppose the United States never gained its independence from Great Britain. Instead, George Washington and King George III forge an alliance that results in the North American Union. Instead of a war that weakens Britain’s grip on North America and contributes to the gradual decline of its world-spanning empire, peace ushers in an era of near-total British domination of North America, Africa, China, and Australia. Only Russia, and the Franco–Spanish “Holy Alliance” can possibly challenge it.

Against this altered historical backdrop, we have Thomas Bushell, a colonel in the Royal American Mounted Police. Bushell is in charge of security for the iconic painting The Two Georges during its time in New Liverpool. When it gets stolen on his watch, presumably by a group of “patriots” called the Sons of Liberty, Bushell has to find The Two Georges before the Sons destroy it and before King Charles arrives in America. If time runs out, the symbolic blow to the relationship between Britain and its colony would be disastrous.

So the stakes are high, and the world is quite different from what we are used to. In these respects, The Two Georges is both a satisfying mystery/thriller and a fascinating work of alternate history. Yet as much as Richard Dreyfuss and Harry Turtledove try, the novel never rises above mediocrity. The characters and their actions are predictable, right down to Bushell’s relationship with Kathleen O’Flannery. The dialogue is oddly stilted, reflecting a culture that seems to have stagnated since the late eighteenth century. Finally, while Dreyfuss and Turtledove create a fascinating portrayal of an alternative America, I’m at a loss as to how it could possibly have gotten into this configuration. This is not a dealbreaker, but it feels like a missed opportunity.

Let’s talk about the alternate history first. The book literally opens by establishing we are in an alternate universe through the preponderance of airships that has become the trope of alternative worlds (TVTropes!). Oh, and the internal combustion engine has still not supplanted steam-powered cars. (Indeed, it seems like this is a world from which the “innovation” of the mass assembly line is absent.) Everyone drinks tea and coffee, and black people are equal but still called Negros and tend to do office work. Feminism as we know it was never invented, and if a woman has a job then she is also promiscuous.

I’m being tongue-in-cheek, of course, but I can’t help it. The America of The Two Georges is simultaneously intriguing and completely unbelievable. It’s as if someone took a snapshot of pre-Revolutionary America and added in some twentieth-century technology. Since I can’t determine the point of divergence from our own timeline (it seems that it must have been much earlier than the Revolutionary War era if France and Spain have teamed up in an unholy alliance), it’s difficult to understand how American society has developed the way it has. Speculation is all well and good, and to some extent it’s a mark of the mettle of an alternate history novel that it inspires such. Still, the attitudes and mannerisms present in The Two Georges largely feel incongruous.

Then there’s the characterization. To Dreyfuss’ credit, he seems to make the characters more multidimensional than those I have observed in my reading of Turtledove to date. Bushell is a dyed-in-the-wool King’s man, but after he experiences the conditions in which coal miners must work, even he manages to sympathize with those who would seek a different way of life and a radical politics to match. There are two sides to every story, and while some of the villains are one-note, the protagonists and even some of the antagonists, like Sir David Clarke, all have their strengths, flaws, and idiosyncrasies. Bushell is a thoroughly introspective protagonist who nevertheless remains ready for action and does not shy away from self-sacrifice.

Alas, Dreyfuss and Turtledove have to go and ruin it with their dialogue.

It’s easy to overlook until you see it, and then you can’t unsee it: all the characters have an insufferable tendency to explain everything to each other. Every action, every decision, is accompanied by a careful rationale that meets with hearty approval from all the likeminded men. (I say “men” because the number of women characters can literally be counted on one hand.) Dialogue plays an important, even essential role in exposition; Dreyfuss and Turtledove carry this to an extreme. This novel is far too long, mostly because every event is accompanied by lengthy explanation and analysis (yet we still have little sense of the politics of the North American Union, except that it has some kind of Governor General—Sir Martin Luther King, no less—and political parts). It took me far too long to read this book, because as much as I enjoyed the actual mystery, the writing left so much to be desired.

As far as the plot goes, The Two Georges is quite tolerable. It has everything a thriller needs: race against time, that hint of a traitor in the midst, cross-country trips complete with bloodshed and mayhem, etc. Bushell and his allies have to find the painting and uncover a plot to assassinate King Charles, and every time they uncover a new lead, they also discover that the mystery goes even deeper than they ever suspected. The story is layered, albeit no particularly nuanced. Unfortunately, I found it fairly easy to predict the identity of the trailer. Unlike my dad, my skill at deciphering mysteries before the final page is underdeveloped, so when I guess the killer (or the traitor), it’s seldom a good sign for a book.

Harry Turtledove is unquestionably a master at imagination. He has an intense creativity that he applies to examining history and deciding how it might change if something were different. I’m still not convinced he’s a very good writer. And his team-up with Richard Dreyfuss has not swayed me. The Two Georges is an interesting conception of an alternative America, and I’m not sorry I read it. But as a novel it’s little more than a mediocre mystery with characters who might as well be painted on canvas.

[liirogue · Rating 1 out of 5]

This book failed for one reason, and one reason only: complete crap for writing.

I could never bring myself to "believe in" the world that the authors created, it never felt real to me. The characters were wooden cardboard cutouts of stereotypes, and would break that only to do something monumentally stupid and completely out of character. One character is described as being the expert on the enemy, yet within the first page of his introduction he acts as if he has no clue what he is up against. And of course, only our main character and his long-suffering sidekick seem to know anything about anything, and everyone is just a bumbling idiot.

I also never bought that stealing a simple painting could cause so much nation-wide anguish. I tried to imagine what the US would do if the Declaration of Independence was stolen, and I still couldn't bring myself to believe that it would be anything like what the book depicts. In fact, I can't imagine any country getting so worked up over a painting. Again, this is due to the authors' atrocious writing and plot pacing.

I should have stopped reading this after the first five pages when I realized what a hack job this was. But I continued in the vain, ill-conceived notion that it would get better. But it actually got worse.

[Becca · Rating 1 out of 5]

Ugh. I thought this would be such an interesting alternate history concept- America stays a British colony rather than gaining independence- that I was willing to overlook having Dreyfuss as a co-author. Never again. This book felt like it was written to be made into a movie starring (surprise surprise) Richard Dreyfus. The movie, like the book, would fail. Awful. Since we didn't gain independence from the british, everyone... flies in dirigibles instead of airplanes? Drives stream powered cars? Drinks too much tea? Says "rather" and "old chap" all the time? This book felt like what would happen in a country ruled by British stereotypes. Plus, and there's no other way to put this- The writing sucked. The plot was plodding and the characters predictable. It even featured famous people such as Kennedy, Nixon, and MLK Jr which did such disservice to their memory that Turtledove should be ashamed. The few interesting concepts included did not save this steamcar/dirigible wreck.

[Rick · Rating 3 out of 5]

I enjoyed The Two Georges. It was a little clunky in places but it had good central characters and a decent plot line. It's real strength lay in its ability to create a very believable world, always the main requirement of a good Alternative History novel. The world of The Two Georges is one in which the American war of independence never happened and America is still part of the British Empire and a very important part at that, with the Franco Spanish Alliance pushing at its borders in the South and the still Russian owned territory of Alaska looming to the North.
The plot concerns an attempt to bring about a separation from the empire; it's well done but nothing outstanding. What is very impressive is the research that's gone into creating the alternative history. I was particularly pleased to see a reference to the British government's refusal to allow colonisation west of the rockies as one of the grievances behind the republican cause. This rarely gets acknowledged in true histories so it was good to see it brought in here. It was also quite pleasant to have a novel of this nature, written by Americans, that wasn't an excuse for a bit of Brit bashing!
Well worth a look for fans of alternative histories.

[Ted · Rating 5 out of 5]

When I saw the name Richard Dreyfuss on the cover on a book in my local library it caught my eye and called me over. Yes, it was in fact the same Hollywood actor we all know (and some love) who apparently co-wrote a book with some guy named Harry Turtledove. OK. I read the back, and WOW! this book sounded interesting. What a concept... It was my first exposure to Alternative History. And Harry Turtledove. I was hooked right from the start. This book was absolutely amazing to me in that here was a world that does not exist, at least to us... Since then, I have dove head first into the world(s) that Harry Turtledove creates. He is for me the grand master of mixing SF with AH and I have spent countless days immersed in this delightful realm. I loved this book and have re-read it many times.

[Colleen · Rating 2 out of 5]

Not a book I'd recommend to alternate history fans. It wasn't awful -- I read it all the way through -- but it was needlessly long, and overly amused by itself: Hey look, a fat old Kennedy! Ohmigosh, this alternative-history-equivilent novel, in which the colonies separated from Britain - what rubbish! There's a super-obvious romance, and a plot-twist villian. Both were mildly entertaining but stuffed in between way-too-long descriptions of the British food people were eating, the steam-punk (airships & trains) ways people were traveling, and the protagonist's angst about his cheating b**** of an ex-wife.

[MB (What she read) · Rating 2 out of 5]

Interesting plot idea but this book failed (for me) in the execution.

I can buy into the fact that since wars lead to advances in technology, science and etc. then the lack of these wars would retard progress. So I was okay with the idea of traveling around in dirigibles and steam-powered cars. BUT, the premise that people were still wearing victorian-style clothes (dresses to the floor, corsets? cheroots, hats), and still living with that outmoded social style and its stratifications (IN 1996 NO LESS!!!) was just too much for me.

If this book had been set in 1886, I probably would have had less of a problem getting into it. But the boringness of the characters along with the overly-outmoded anachronisms were too much. I read the first few chapters and the last two then quit.

[Tome Addiction · Rating 1 out of 5]

Just not sure about this book, the Steam Punk imagery that it invokes and conceptual story sounded entertaining but after the first 70 pages of descriptive detail and characters, I am moving on to another book for now. I may give it another 70 pages or so but if after that I can't get into it off to the used book store pile it goes. "Life is too short to read bad books". Attempted 03/08/15.

[Nick Wallace · Rating 1 out of 5]

The premise was mildly interesting, but ultimately a big bowl of ham and fluff.

[Blind Mapmaker · Rating 5 out of 5]

4.5 This was a surprisingly enjoyable read - well-paced with a rather good mystery and some surprising twists. Even the love story was not too sweet and basically believable. Some of the alt-history tech was a bit too much, but with no major wars, no real democracies and tiny bickering states in Germany in Italy the lack of internal combustion automobiles was still okay and I've never been one to complain about airships.

Definitely a good book and a great gift for any MAGA relatives you really want to annoy. Maybe Turtledove should team up again with Dreyfuss? I think the two really go well together.

[Wolfreign]

Great alternate history novel.

[Preetam Chatterjee · Rating 5 out of 5]

Harry Turtledove and Richard Dreyfuss’s *The Two Georges* is an intricate, engrossing tapestry of alternate history, detective intrigue, and ethical reflection, a novel that delights in both imagination and moral scrutiny.

Published in 1995, it presents a world in which the American colonies never revolted, remaining loyal to the crown, and thus the history of North America unfolds under a delicate, sustained balance between empire and independence, loyalty and rebellion, order and justice. What distinguishes this novel is the seamless integration of mystery, speculative world-building, and social commentary: it is at once a whodunit and a meditation on the consequences of historical divergence, a narrative that engages the mind while also drawing the reader into a richly realised, fully lived-in alternate reality.

The narrative unfolds through the perspective of Inspector Patrick “Pat” Doyle, a seasoned detective in the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, whose professionalism, intelligence, and ethical clarity anchor the novel amidst a complex world. Doyle is a character of quiet depth, one whose moral compass guides him as much as his analytical acumen, and through whom the reader negotiates the tensions of a society that has evolved along very different ethical, political, and social trajectories.

Unlike many alternate histories that focus solely on the divergence itself, Turtledove and Dreyfuss explore the human consequences of divergence, the ways in which everyday life, law, and social expectation are shaped by historical contingency, and the ethical questions that emerge when historical reality has been fundamentally altered. Doyle’s role as a detective becomes both literal and symbolic: he must uncover truth not just in a criminal case, but within a world whose moral and historical architecture has been reconfigured.

The book’s central conceit—a painting, “The Two Georges”, representing George III and George Washington shaking hands—serves as both plot catalyst and thematic mirror. The theft of the painting drives the narrative forward, yet it also functions as a meditation on unity, compromise, and the ethical obligations that underpin society.

The painting embodies the moral and political balance of the North American colonies’ loyalty to the crown, and its theft threatens to unravel both public order and ethical certainty. Through this device, the novel explores the fragility of societal cohesion, the consequences of betrayal, and the stakes inherent in maintaining justice and civic integrity.

Turtledove and Dreyfuss’s world-building is meticulous and subtly persuasive. They construct a North America that is both recognisably familiar and convincingly different: cities, laws, social customs, and institutions have developed along alternate paths, creating a world in which historical divergence permeates daily life. The authors’ attention to detail is extraordinary: from the cultural significance of currency and stamps to the structure of government and social hierarchy, every element reinforces the plausibility of the alternate timeline.

This precision allows readers to inhabit fully a society whose differences illuminate both historical contingency and the ethical dimensions of governance and civic responsibility. The world itself becomes a character, complex and morally textured, its architecture and institutions reflecting the values, compromises, and challenges of a society shaped by loyalty rather than rebellion.

Characterisation is equally nuanced. Inspector Doyle is supported by a cast of figures whose personalities, motivations, and ethical frameworks are shaped by the divergent historical reality. From politicians and officials to ordinary citizens, each character reflects the moral and social consequences of a society that achieved stability through compromise rather than conflict. The interactions between these characters illuminate the spectrum of human behaviour: loyalty and ambition, moral courage and expedience, empathy and self-interest.

Through their interactions, the novel explores the interplay between personal integrity and societal expectation, demonstrating that ethical clarity is neither simple nor guaranteed, even in a world of apparent order.

The novel’s thematic richness lies in its exploration of justice, loyalty, and historical contingency. The North American colonies’ continued allegiance to the crown has produced a society that is orderly and prosperous, yet ethically complex. Citizens navigate the subtle pressures of conformity, moral compromise, and civic duty, and the narrative examines the consequences of these pressures on individual conscience and societal cohesion.

In this sense, *The Two Georges* is less concerned with spectacle or divergent battles and more with the moral and social architecture that emerges from historical choices. The mystery at its core serves as both narrative propulsion and ethical meditation, compelling the reader to reflect on the delicate balance between law, morality, and historical circumstance.

The prose itself is lucid, precise, and rhythmic, carrying both narrative drive and reflective depth. The investigation unfolds with clarity and suspense, yet the writing allows space for contemplation: the ethical stakes of historical divergence, the moral responsibilities of power, and the fragility of societal cohesion are woven seamlessly into the unfolding plot.

Dialogue is functional yet layered, revealing character, advancing the narrative, and subtly probing moral and social questions. The authors maintain a rhythm that mirrors the investigative process itself: methodical, deliberate, and attentive to nuance, with moments of revelation punctuated by reflection and insight.

Ethical and moral reflection pervades the novel. Doyle’s investigation is as much a test of conscience as of analytical skill: he must navigate political pressures, personal loyalties, and the societal expectation of order while pursuing truth.

In doing so, the novel explores the tension between justice and expedience, morality and pragmatism, highlighting the enduring human challenge of ethical action within complex societal frameworks. The narrative continually asks readers to consider how history shapes moral choice and how ethical responsibility persists even in worlds that have diverged dramatically from our own.

Historical texture is central to the novel’s resonance. Turtledove and Dreyfuss weave cultural, technological, and social detail into the narrative without overwhelming the story. Customs, institutions, and social hierarchies are rendered convincingly, illustrating how the Confederation of the colonies’ loyalty to the crown has influenced daily life, legal structures, and civic expectation.

These details are never mere ornamentation; they illuminate character, inform plot, and reinforce the ethical dimensions of the alternate history. The reader gains a sense of immersion, inhabiting a world that is internally coherent, morally complex, and historically plausible.

The mystery structure enhances both tension and thematic depth. The investigation into the stolen painting operates on multiple levels: as a narrative engine, as a moral puzzle, and as a reflection on societal cohesion. Every clue, every interaction, every moral choice reverberates beyond the immediate plot, highlighting the interconnectedness of personal integrity, historical contingency, and societal stability.

The resolution of the mystery, achieved through a combination of insight, ethical courage, and understanding of human motivation, reinforces the novel’s central themes: justice requires vigilance, moral clarity is hard-won, and historical circumstances shape but do not determine ethical responsibility.

In stylistic and thematic terms, *The Two Georges* excels in its balance of entertainment and reflection. The plot is engaging and suspenseful, yet every narrative beat carries the weight of moral and historical significance.

The authors demonstrate that alternate history need not rely solely on spectacular divergence; it can probe the human and ethical consequences of historical change, exploring the responsibilities of citizenship, conscience, and civic engagement. In this, the novel stands as a model of genre fiction that achieves both imaginative richness and intellectual depth.

Ultimately, *The Two Georges* is a meditation on loyalty, morality, and the consequences of historical choice. It challenges readers to consider the ethical dimensions of societal stability, the responsibilities of individuals within structured systems, and the fragility of a civilisation built on compromise rather than conflict.

Doyle’s investigation becomes a lens through which readers explore these questions, experiencing both the suspense of detective work and the reflective engagement of moral inquiry. The novel’s world is meticulously constructed, its ethical terrain richly textured, and its narrative rhythm both immersive and intellectually stimulating.

In conclusion, Turtledove and Dreyfuss have crafted a novel that is as morally and historically insightful as it is engaging. *The Two Georges* blends mystery, alternate history, and ethical reflection into a seamless, immersive experience, allowing readers to inhabit a world that is at once plausible, complex, and morally resonant.

Inspector Doyle’s journey demonstrates the enduring importance of conscience, ethical courage, and attentiveness to historical consequence. The novel lingers in the mind, inviting reflection on the delicate interplay between history, morality, and human action, and standing as a compelling example of how speculative fiction can illuminate both the possibilities and responsibilities inherent in historical divergence.

[Christaaay]

Great idea, but the laborious writing kills the tension and interest. Unwieldy, unnecessarily-detailed and long-winded explanations instead of action. Stilted dialogue, race and gender relations (it tries to be gender conscious and ends up creating a truly unlikable lead lady). My mind wanders every time I try to read it, even though the mystery plot interests me; it took me a week to read to page 70 during my bedtime reading. The plot just got buried!

[Tom Loock · Rating 1 out of 5]

I had finished – and very much enjoyed – Harry Turtledove's World War-novels and was looking for other books by him. This one sounded attractive: Turtledove plus Dreyfuss plus intriguing alternate history. What could go wrong?

Everything. The writing is terrible, the characters are cardboard, the internal logic is flawed and for some inexplicable reason the characters are eating all the time (was Dreyfuss on a diet?).

Since this is (mercifully) Dreyfuss' only novel to my knowledge, and it does not read like a Turtledove-novel, I do blame him for the atrocious quality. Having said that, Turtledove is still in my book for having written the most boring novel I had the misfortune to finish - Homeward Bound, the devastatingly disappointing finale to the World War/Coloniztion-sequence.

Don't waste your time.

[Mike · Rating 1 out of 5]

I tried to read this book three separate times and couldn’t bring myself to finish it. I really liked Turtledove’s “Guns of the South”, so I thought I would enjoy this alternative history. I think the difference is that Guns of the South was alternative history as it occurred, and this book was alternative history from two hundred years ago and these are the consequences. I thought the changes Turtledove and Dreyfus envisioned such as the lack of airplanes (air travel via blimps) and lack of internal combustion engines (ground travel via steam powered contraptions) was just a bit beyond my believable interest factor. Of course, Guns of the South relieved on time travel and I was okay with that, so I’m not sure what the variable is that just makes this book unreadable. I was disappointed as I thought I would really like it.

[Paul · Rating 5 out of 5]

Excellent book. The setting is North America if peace had been achieved between the Colonies and King George. The plot involves the theft of a painting called The Two Georges, telling of the meeting between Washington and George III, and the officer of the Royal American Mounted Police's actions in tracking down the thieves. It moves all over the country and is able to showcase much of this alternate America. Sir Martin Luther King as Governor General is one of many well placed touches.

Written by actor Richard Dreyfuss and renown alternate history author Harry Turtledove it's one I'd put at the top of any alternate history or steampunk list.

Brilliant!

[Jason]

When Charles (III) stepped off the zeppelin, I felt like I did when Doogie Howser stepped back into the end of the film adaptation of Starship Troopers. I have since learned to appreciate both the Prince of Wales and Neil Patric Harris, especially. Oh, the book? Um, interesting take on a different America, but the necessity of contrasts in timelines lead me to distrust the absence of the sexual revolution and other cultural norms, tech regressiveness (steam punk nod?), etc. Still a fun read in alternate history.

[Mary JL · Rating 4 out of 5]

This story asks the fascinating questions: What if America had not revolted? What if George III and George washington had made peace with each other?

I like Turtledove's brand of alternate histry and this is o exception. The portrai of the alternate America he desribes I find beleivable and interesting.

The characters are adequtely drawn, but it is the ideas that I find fascinating. It is a bit long but goes really quicly.

[Laura · Rating 1 out of 5]

What started as a promising premise, that the US never declared independence and the world is still ruled by a few major colonial powers, quickly becomes a boring whodunnit, complete with every cliche British phrase and exclamation you have ever heard. I stopped reading after about 100 pages, as I just wasn't that interested in the story.

[Kevin · Rating 4 out of 5]

A whodunnit, about a missing painting, in an alternate universe where the American Revolution never happened.

[Art · Rating 1 out of 5]

One of the worse books ever written. Giving it half a star for the input of Turtledove. Richard Dreyfus can act, but NOT write.

[Neil · Rating 3 out of 5]

It is funny. This is the third time [maybe fourth time] I have read this book, and I do not think I liked it as much as the prior times I have read it. I like the overall plot, the overall story, but I felt there were some “problems” with it. Some of the problems were ‘personal’ in nature in that I did not care for how the prisoners were treated or how the RAMs abused the laws to suit their needs. Some of the problems had to do with different aspects of the plot. Overall, the character development was pretty decent. I think the first time I read the book, the ending truly did shock me. Obviously, not so much this time around [although it has been quite a few years since I last read this book].

The book starts off slow and slowly builds up to speed. It takes several chapters before it gets moving; even thing, it does slow down in places once it gets moving. I do remember having trouble getting the book started the first few times I did try to read it before I actually finished it. It still felt like it was slow in getting started this time around, too. On the one hand, I suppose that is ‘fine’ because I would guess the authors are trying to get the reader acclimated to this ‘new alternate world’ in which the Colonies never revolted and broke from England and the sun truly never has set on the English Empire in this alternate timeline.

In this alternate world, the authors speculate that the world would not have advanced nearly as far as it could have without the advent of the United States of America or even the various wars [including the World Wars] having been fought. Life on this planet revolves around coal as being the primary fossil fuel being used. No gasoline or oil. Industry and power plants are dependent upon coal being used as energy sources. In addition, most of the automobiles are based on a steam-engine design and are not internal combustion engines. I did find myself wondering how aeroplanes flew, what kind of fuel they required. The same with the engines on dirigibles – one would think that they would be gasoline-powered or some other kind of fuel-base as opposed to steam. Logically, one would think such engines should have been applied to automobiles, to trucks and vans and other vehicles, as well. Apparently not.

Interstate travel is by either dirigibles or trains; in any case, it takes several days to go cross-country. The dirigibles are at the mercy of the prevailing winds; the trains are clearly limited by where the tracks have been laid across the countryside. It is amusing to read the responses of people who express reluctance about aeroplanes ever being used to travel cross-country, considering how wide-spread airplanes are used today. Perhaps the authors have extrapolated upon opinions around the time dirigibles were more commonly used and applied them to the future?

Even though slavery no longer publicly exists, there are still definite caste systems in place, even in English or American society. Some of it seems to be based on skin color, some of it is based on whether a person is a servant or not; some if it seems to be based on money; some of it was based on the type of job a person had. I thought the authors did a decent job of getting those differences and thoughts across over the course of the novel. It was more subdued than blatant, in my opinion, and perhaps it was also unintentional.

In "our history," slavery was abolished in the Empire in 1833, and all slaves were given a four-year apprenticeship so they could acquire work and function in society after being fully-freed. It would have been nice to know when it was abolished in this word; I interpreted it being abolished to mean it should have been abolished at an earlier time in the North American Union than when the Civil War was fought. That being the case, the authors kept having Sam Stanley expressing thoughts, statements, impressions, and opinions as if slavery had not been abolished until much later in American history and that the Civil Rights movement had occurred [with the accompanying violence against black protesters] when there should not have been a real need for it. Some of Sam’s comments and attitudes seemed quite incongruous in relation to the society as described in this book. But that is just my personal opinion, based on how Sam’s opinions being expressed sounded to me.

Some of the story was definitely cheesier than it need to be like how, when Sam and Thomas were cruising over what would have been Minnesota, Sam exclaims how there must be ‘ten thousand lakes down there!’ In addition, the “science romances” (such as the one that Bushell was specifically reading) that were mentioned involving parallel world where the NAU had become free and was a superior power in the ‘modern world’ seemed both pretty “normal” and cheesy to me (162 – 163). I am sure there is supposed to be some kind of irony in this, writing about parts of what sounded like it could have been “the current world” as an “alternate world romance” in an “alternate reality” or “alternate history” [except that the novel read by Bushell made slaves of both blacks and Native Americans]. To be honest, the first time I read this book may have been the first time I came across such a ‘plot device’ in a story; in any case, I found it amusing. However, it has been used in two other stories I remember reading since I first read this book. The first that comes to mind is The Man in the High Castle (written by Philip K. Dick about the Nazis and Japanese winning WWII and dividing up the world between them). I do not remember the second novel off the top of my head, but I know I have read at least one other “alternate history” book that did this very same thing. I could not quite decide if Bushell’s responses and reactions to the novel are meant to be tongue-in-cheek or not especially when talking with his adjutant, Sam Stanley, about how different Russian customs are from the Americans or even British for breakfast; he initially has an epiphany that if the Colonies had separated from the U.K. in the past, they would see their being a separate country from the British Empire as being ‘custom’, as being what they were used to, as being their due. But then his stupid stubborn mulish streak asserts itself and he says to himself that “it’s not the same thing” (164). He claims he reads them to get to know the mind of his “enemy” better [the Sons of Liberty], but I think he reads them because he secretly enjoys them. This “sci-rom” he reads has an odd take on the future, however. In this alternate future, America still has slaves – the slaves being the Native Americans and the Blacks. They still manage to come to the rescue of the British Empire against a United Germany – a la World War II, I guess. Bushell makes the comment that the author was an idiot because he did not take into account how much more efficient and productive machines are than slaves, so it makes no sense for an economy based on and driven by slaves could outpace and outcompete economies that are machine-based in the modern world.

The ‘part’ where Bushell “mentally brags to himself” the day after meeting with Horace, King and Clark was a bit cheesy. He describes himself as having been difficult and stubborn and, ultimately, getting what he wanted (111), but it really does not come across that way when you read that part of the narrative. It merely comes across as Bushell being a jerk to the man who seduced his wife [understandably so]; he does not come across as rebellious or scheming as much as he comes across as angry and petulant, like a bit of a child. His apology was humorous as well [well, how it was described]. . It felt like the authors were being a little tongue-in-cheek while making sure the reader knew and understood the ‘point’ or ‘inside joke’ the authors were trying to make at that moment in the story.

I was not too sure how I felt about Bushell being given a large envelope filled with blank search warrants already signed by the judge (70). They were a ‘gift’ to be used judiciously, but Bushell himself even acknowledges that if word ever got out, their case would be ruined and it would probably ruin several other cases that had already been decided from the use of these illegal warrants. So it is funny how he feels free to condemn the Sons of Liberty yet is such a hypocrite when he is willing to bend and/or break the law to get what he wants via these illegal search warrants. Like, how he gives the head of the local Independence Party grief for hiding behind the very laws for protection that they are protesting and demanding to be freed from by becoming independent of the British Empire (63); he condemns somebody for, essentially, not breaking the laws with their behavior while he himself is breaking the laws he claims he holds dear and has sworn to uphold with those illegal search warrants.

P. 285 – I do not quite know how English law works, but an interesting conundrum appears that is never fully addressed in the book. We later find out that Sir Horace Bragg is a traitor, yet he knows that Bushell has illegal search warrants in his possession that have been used during the case. In addition, he also starts to point out that the search warrants from Liverpool may not be valid in Victoria. He should know if they are or if they are not. One of the Mounties does not care about their legality as long as it gets the Mounties the forced entrance they desire because nobody will challenge the search warrants at the moment they are presented. That being the case, considering the evidence gathered in the searches from the use of these illegal warrants brought about future searches, that means any and every evidence gained [obtained?]in those subsequent searches are now tainted. The tainted warrants and tainted evidence should mean that everybody who was arrested should be able to go free and the evidence obtained against them should be thrown out in the courts. Bragg knows illegal search warrants have been used – why wouldn’t he have told his solicitor [or any solicitor] that these warrants were being used? That way, the tables could have been turned, so to speak, against Bushell and the charges against Bragg [up to a point]. In any case, the charges and evidence gathered against some of those arrested could have been thrown out. Definitely a weak point in the plot.

In addition, it is amusing to me how much Thomas Bushell bends and breaks the very laws he swears he is upholding and defending, the same laws that he accuses the Sons of Liberty of hiding behind for protection. He has officers “unofficially” break into Sir David Clark’s residence in a vain attempt to gather evidence against Clark in the case. His former wife, Irene, even calls him and accuses him of such shenanigans going on [as she sees evidence of such breaking and entering having occurred]. He goes to the lengths of telling Kathleen that he refuses to acknowledge that the RAMs do some things “unofficially” and “off the books” so that they remain “unofficial” and “off-the-books” lest they become “official” by being acknowledged by him. Funny, how criminals are arresting and accusing others of being criminals isn’t it? That means some of the accusations from the Sons of Liberty directed at the RAMs were closer to the truth than Bushell would have preferred to think about, consider, or admit. In addition, Bushell claims that those who have been arrested are not suffering as badly as they would have had they been arrested by the Russian or Franco-Spanish [secret] police, yet the book describes how some of those arrested have been brutalized and crippled while being interrogated by the American police. I, personally, do not see much difference between what the RAMs are described as having done to those arrested or accused having done versus what Bushell claims the Russians or the Holy Alliance does to their prisoners [not in the end, anyway].

In addition, nothing resembling Miranda Rights are used throughout the book until the very end; it is implied in the number of times that the more educated defendants state they will not speak without a solicitor present, but even then, the officers never read the accusers their rights or inform them of their rights [especially those not well-educated]. Yet, towards the end of the novel, we ‘suddenly’ have some version of Miranda being ‘read’ to some of the accused who have been arrested. It is kind of funny how this is implied to have always been present over the course of the novel without ever having been previously mentioned.

In terms of character development, I felt that Thomas Bushell, Kathleen Flannery, and Sir Horace Bragg had the best development. I would have liked to have seen Sam Stanley’s character developed further than it was; he was more than just an ‘interesting sidekick’ but he could have been quite a bit more in the story. Thomas Bushell has to undergo several shocks over the course of the book such as learning his ex-wife Irene may have cuckolded him with more men of title than he ever realized, despite how their marriage ended and ends up learning a few things before he ultimately has a decision to make as a person that does, in many ways, change him and helps him to grow and mature even further [I felt, anyway]. Kathleen Flannery also undergoes some character development, but hers seems to alternate between progression and regression I could not quite decide if that was due to her being Bushell’s developing love interest over the course of the novel, but she was better fleshed out as a (wounded) character over the course of the novel. I would like to think she develops as a strong character, in her own right, by the end of the novel. Sir Horace Bragg’s development was a shock the first time around, despite the various bread crumbs scattered across the course of the novel to give hints to the reader about how his development might go. There was one character introduced in the beginning of the novel I would have liked to have seen continue in the story over the rest of the novel; I did like his character and thought he had potential for some strong character development as well.

The narrative alternates between good entertainment and bad writing. Some if it is quite good; some of it is really bad (i.e. – bad humor, cheesy puns, lazy writing, hypocritical heroes, one particular phrase [paragraph] being used multiple times in the book, stupid comments and/or observations, etc.). There are a couple of twists in the book; one of them I had actually forgotten about but the other remained with me even after the length of time since I last read this book. I did like the basic plot; I did not necessarily quite like how long it took to get there or the path the plot took. At times, it did seem longer than it needed to be. That being said, I did understand why it might have taken as long as it did [as the authors did expand upon a lot of simpler things, like meals and describing dining situations; I did not mind as I felt it helped better develop this world that they had created].

I did like how some of the friendships and relationships developed over the course of the book. I thought they felt “natural” in their progression. I thought it was funny how Bushell kept having various epiphanies yet they never seemed to last. I do not think the book portrayed the Mounties in the best possible light, to be honest, but it was probably a ‘realistic’ light [based on human behavior, what is revealed about police behavior and brutality in the news, and whatnot]. It gets mildly gritty, in parts, but not obnoxiously so. It had at least three or four famous personages in it Martin Luther King, John F. Kennedy, Robert Kennedy mentioned in passing, and I think Richard Nixon; I could not quite decide if there were more but I did not recognize them.

Despite its various flaws and failings, I did find the book enjoyable, overall. It provides enough ‘background’ as to the history of how the world developed without requiring huge infodumps. It is strange to read of a world where there are no rockets, satellites, computers, passenger airliners or jumbo jets, supersonic flights, air conditioners, cordless phones, fax machines, copiers or printers, Walkmans, VCRs, supertankers, the Panama Canal, a united country called Germany, or a host of other accoutrements people might consider normal “today” or even in 1996. It was a fun book to read, and I did enjoy revisiting this alternate world and the mystery it provided.

[D J Rout · Rating 3 out of 5]

Regrettably, this novel doesn't have an afterword that explains who wrote what, so I have to guess that the plot is Richard Dreyfuss's and the bulk of the writing, including the setting is Turtledove's. In the acknowledgements, they acknowledge Harry Harrison's thoughts on what the world would bd like if the Americans had lost the rebellion in 1776, but they dont' cte whether they got this from A Transatlantic Tunnel, Hurrah! or Harrison's essay on that book—which I can't find at the moment.

One of the fun aspects is seeing how characters familiar in our timeline turn up as essentially the same characters in this alternate history. Martin Luther King Jr. is Governor-General of the North American Union; John F Kennedy is a womanising, Trump-like publisher of a radical magazine that advocates for rebellion against King Charles III. Many more English surnames turn up in a North America without an Ellis Island, and where the Iroquois nations still have autonomy within the Empire. The setting also follows the alternate history trope of having less technological development than our timeline, which is something that usually irritates me but it's nice to see people travelling leisurely in airships rather than rushing about in planes. A lot of time is devoted to food descriptions and lavish tipping, too.

Because the plot so resembles a movie script, it's a nice one to follow that movesa long at a good pace, even over nearly 600 pages, and the certainties that you would expect in a movie turn up in the story. Once the protagonist sleeps with the possible villain, he discovers that she's exactly who she says she is and isn't going to turn out to be a stupid twist in the tail contrived by someone from marketing after a test screening. Dreyfuss knows movies too well for that.

If this were made into a movie, the two detectives' galumphing around the NAU would be too ponderous to deal with, which is why this would make a good short series for a streaming service. It all ends happily, with very little that seems contrived, at least on first reading. And at last I can say I've read it after waiting so long.

[Stuart Dean · Rating 3 out of 5]

It's 1996 and the sun has not set on the British Empire. The American Revolution never happened, and the famous painting of George Washington bowing before King George III, the Two Georges, is on display in New Liverpool. Royal American Mounted Police Colonel Thomas Bushell is responsible for its protection when outside the museum a prominent public figure is murdered, by gunfire no less. This turns out to be a distraction, as the painting is stolen during the hubbub. Bushell must recover the painting before the arrival of King-Emperor Charles III, and begins a continent wide quest that involves the notorious terrorist organization the Sons of Liberty, who want to establish America as its own country free of British rule.

Like most Turtledove novels it's an alternate history story, showing how things would have been if America had remained under British rule. Mostly its like it's 1920, almost steampunk in its outlook, and the people have the moral sentiments of Edwardian England. People travel by airship and train over long distances, and steam driven cars otherwise. Guns are virtually outlawed so there is little violent crime; the police go unarmed. Not as many famous figures are named as is normal for Turtledove, but the murder victim is easily identified, and the manner of his death is very familiar.

It's a police procedural, following clues and interviewing suspects as they arrive. Following the leads allows Bushell to travel over the entire breadth of the country. The crime part is well done without too many unbelievable coincidences or blind luck involved. There's some action and danger, and a good deal of political intrigue. Also a love story.

It's hard to say how much Richard Dreyfuss was involved. Maybe he wrote it with Turtledove's help, maybe he just came up with the basic idea and let Turtledove ghost write the majority of it. Whoever did the writing, he turned a detective story into an interminable travelogue. From the very beginning virtually every trip is described in detail. We learn far more than we'd ever want to know about airship travel, train travel, steam car travel, even ferry travel. And practically every meal eaten is described as well. Also the clothing everyone wears is mentioned. Turtledove's characters are rarely very deep, so the Irish cop with a drinking problem is probably him. And so is the cheating spouse, as there's an unfaithful wife in every book.

The book could have been a good hundred pages shorter without the Michelin Guide to hotels that don't exist, but when it gets around to telling an actual story it's pretty good. 3 stars a knife and a fork.

[Matthew Taylor · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book is from the mid-1990s and I have now read it for the first time in 2024.

In 1995, I imagine various conceits of this book would have seemed to be a charming American-liberal fairy tale ... an America without guns! An America where no cop has been killed for 14 years! An America where slavery ended peacefully (with compensation to slaveowners) in 1834! An America with prosperous, autonomous, and culturally confident Native American nations! A world where (Sir) Martin Luther King is the President! (I mean, Governor-General...)

Against this idylle, the authors cobble together an array of extremely hostile concepts to create the terrorist "Sons of Liberty" who wish to see America free from the British Empire... all of which must again, in the confident 1990s, have raised a chuckle at their brute bestial nature. These "proud Americans" are vicious white supremacists, sprinkled with some sex pests, and with an strata of Irish-Americans angry at the subordinate place of Irish in a British world ... and even more so as black people "got their freedom".

In 2024, none of this feels like a comedic over-exaggeration of white supremacist American exceptionalism; the "Sons of Liberty" in The Two Georges are with us today. They look at the America they inhabit, and they hate it for not being what it should be - exclusionary, white, and somehow strong due to this. The serpent-myth of "Irish slavery" - a white American idea designed to minimise the legitimate complaints of African-Americans by inventing a fictional white suffering, is widespread. The anger at being "forced" to accept the equality of African-Americans powers exclusionary ethno-nationalism across America's right.

The sequence where a female character is sexually assaulted by a smooth talking powerful man, in full view of other men, who do not realise what is happening, was so brilliantly executed as an example of "metoo" style revelation, was alone in its brilliant precognition. The rest of the book means that, here in 2024, I think The Two Georges has become less an exaggerated "alternate history" & instead a prescient and brilliant thought-experiment about how Americans, when lacking any other means to define themselves in a changing and difficult world, might choose to do it by viewing themselves as an exclusionary exceptional white nation. Eerie.

[Steven Lee · Rating 1 out of 5]

The premise of this book had it on my radar for several years. I spotted it in a used bookstore and took the opportunity to finally read it. What a disappointment.

The basic premise of The Two Georges is that the American Revolution ended in a peaceful settlement between the British Empire and the American colonies. In the present of the novels (the 1980s or 1990s as far as I can tell), America is something like a dominion of the British Empire and the countries are far more closely aligned together than say Canada and the United Kingdom are in our world.

I think the setting is quite ridiculous in the story. My main objection is that the world is essentially a steampunk world. Cars operate on steam engines, air travel is restricted to dirigibles, etc. The world is very much frozen in a different time. There's a bizarre quality to this, in my opinion, in that a lot of the culture of world seems to be Victorian a century after that period. I don't understand why the authors wouldn't simply set the novel in the 1800s if they wanted steampunk technology and Victorian values. Instead the reader is asked to accept a world radically unchanged over many decades. It nearly feels like the authors considered what a more British America would look like and got stuck in a very cartoonish style for the country.

The plot itself centers on a anti-imperial independence movement and the hunt for the thieves of a precious, symbolic painting. Centering the story around a painting strikes me as odd. I cannot think of anything like that in this world what would have an equivalent social value.

The story itself is... fine. It's a big, dramatic adventure, rushing around North America to show off how the place developed differently from our world. Some parts are interesting, but not terribly so.

Overall, it was a disappointment and failed to really grab or hold my interest with the setting, characters or plot.

[Reza Amiri Praramadhan · Rating 5 out of 5]

In this alternative world, The whole Northern America, bar Alaska, which stayed under the Russian Empire, was united under the name of North America Union, and British Empire reigned supreme. The cooperation between loyal George Washington and George III was immortalised in the the painting which became title of the book. The painting came to symbolise unity across the Atlantic Ocean. In this quick-paced, thrilling, detective story, we followed Colonel Bushell, Captain Sam Stanley and Dr. Flannery in their endeavours to find the stolen Two Georges painting and unravel a conspiracy by Sons of Liberty, an underground organisation hell-bent on freeing America from British yoke. I highly enjoys following through the whole story, fast-paced, yet peppered with subtle hints here and there, and the ending was satisfying. I highly enjoy the cameos of numerous historical figures, such as Sir Martin Luther King, John F. Kennedy, and even ‘Tricky Dick’ Nixon.

[Michael Norwitz · Rating 3 out of 5]

Turtledove's series of alternate histories continue with a tale in which the United States had never achieved independence from England, an event commemorated by a painting (for which the title is named), of George Washington surrendering to George III. The painting is stolen (at an inauspicious time), leading to a nationwide search.

I didn't find the book boring, exactly, but the investigation meandered for far too long. Also, while I can appreciate that the protagonist's unwavering allegiance to the British 'King-Emperor' was probably meant to be presented with a degree of self-aware irony, but the sanitising of the British Empire was never plausible to me, as was the frozen-in-time fashions and attitudes. Moreover, while I could appreciate the significance of the painting ... to a degree ... its omnipresence in American culture felt downright Stalinesque, and completely unbelievable.

[Kenneth Flusche · Rating 3 out of 5]

This book is on two levels, on the surface a simple cops and robbers. Who stole the painting and why?
The other is Alternate History with a twist instead of soon after the breaking point over 200 years have pasted. The break was 1775 peaceful compromises with the mother country instead of declaring Independence and War. The setting is 1980 something (after 1981 I don't understand Wine) Slavery ended 1835 (aprox) So another war was averted. The book points out NO Major Wars since early in the 1700's. So what are the major changes, steam and electricity are king not petroleum. Airplanes are still small bi-planes. Telephones are still manuel with operators making the connections. The technology seems stuck in the 1930's. The thinking question on both levels is WHY???

[B. Zucker · Rating 2 out of 5]

Did not finish. Made it about 2/3 through but just couldn't care enough to keep reading. What is at stake in this "thriller"? A painting. Me oh my. Also, when I read a book about an alternate America still dominated by the British Empire, I want the Sons of Liberty to be the good guys, not the bad guys.
Also also, the book is full of references to the game of cricket, which I don't understand and have no reason to learn about.
Two stars instead of one because it involves airship travel which is cool.