Book Reviews in Brief: The Matchmaker of Perigord and Clara & Mr. Tiffany

Oh, the weather outside is frightful, but book reviews are so delightful!  Here are two mini reviews from books I've recently read.

The Matchmaker of Perigord by Julia Stuart. I've rarely encountered a novel that was as charming and fable-like as this one.  Set in the tiny French village of Amour-Sur-Belle, whose inhabitants can only charitably be described as kooky, this is the story of Guillaume, the barber-turned-matchmaker, who rather haplessly tries to bring love to Amour. If you're a fan of Chocolat and an admirer of the diversity found in even the smallest hamlets around the world but that still retain the unique flavor of their region, then this is the perfect novel for you.  


It's not as polished or ambitious as her newer book, The Tower, the Zoo, and the Tortoise, which was one of my favorite books of 2010, but it's still a good read if you enjoy that sense of whimsy.  My sales rep from Harper, Anne DeCourcey, sent me a finished copy of this backlist title at my request. 


Clara and Mr. Tiffany by Susan Vreeland. Vreeland does it again, taking a female character whom art history has relegated to a minor role and creating a wholly believable and full life for her.  Here we have Clara Driscoll, who creates beautiful and innovative glass designs for Louis Comfort Tiffany in fin de siecle New York.  I found the art process behind the making of the stained glass pieces to be endlessly fascinating!  The period detail, as well as the increasing interest in unionized labor and workers’ rights, added to my enjoyment, too.  This is a fairly light read with just enough historical substance to give it a bit of heft.  


This book was published by Random House in January, but I read it in ARC form a few months ago when my sales rep, Michael Kindness, gave me a copy.  

An odd coincidence

Okay, so is it a coincidence? Or is it just an instance of cosmic harmony where two of my best loved books for the fall happen to mention the same obscure historical figure? Mary Toft was an English woman living in the early to mid 18th century who convinced leading medical authorities of the day that she had given birth to rabbits. Yes, live rabbits. Apparently she had them going for quite a while and eventually 'fessed up. What an embarrassment to the Royal docs, eh?
Bill Bryson makes reference to it in his wonderful book called At Home: A Short History of Private Life in a section on medical history, particularly the woefully inadequate medical care given to women up through the 20th century. Not only was it indelicate for a doctor (always male) to actually examine his female patients, his patients didn't even have the vocabulary to describe their ills when something went amiss "down there." It's a wonder that every woman didn't die in childbirth.



In Julia Stuart's charming new novel called The Tower, the Zoo, and the Tortoise, it's a minor character who stumbles across the interesting information about Mary Toft and then shares it with his friend Balthazar, a Beefeater living in the Tower of London, as a means of distracting his friend from mourning the death of his son.

I had read Bryson's book first and found the Mary Toft tidbit extraordinary, but that was nothing compared to how I felt when I ran across her name once more in Stuart's novel. Is there anybody out there who can calculate the chances of that happening? I dunno. But it seemed so rare that it deserved its own blogpost.

My new favorite book for the fall

If I had only one word to describe this book, I’d be hard-pressed to choose between “delightful” and “charming.” It’s one of those rare gems that introduces you to indelibly quirky characters, showcases a meandering plot that is utterly rewarding, and provides just as many laugh-out-loud moments as poignant ones. Balthazar Jones is a Beefeater who lives in the Tower of London with his wife, Hebe, who escapes during the day to run an outrageous Lost and Found office for the London Underground. Because of Balthazar’s proprietary relationship with Mrs. Cook, the world’s oldest living tortoise, the Queen decides to transfer the royal bestiary from the London Zoo back to the Tower, where Queen Elizabeth I originally housed it. Along the way we encounter missing penguins, a purloined bearded pig, the troublesome ghost of Sir Walter Raleigh, and the Tower chaplain, who moonlights as both a rat exterminator and a bestselling writer of women’s erotica with a strong moralistic tone, under the pseudonym Vivienne Ventress. I can’t tell you the last time I read a book filled with such wonderment, and it really is a joy to read a book whose literary value isn’t compromised by its sparkle and charm. People who loved The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society or Major Pettigrew's Last Stand will love this one, too, as will anybody who enjoys books that are pleasantly offbeat and filled with British humor. It was simply enchanting.