A little bit (two inches wide) of ivory

I love Jane Austen, and I rarely read Austen pastiches - you know, sequels to Austen's novels, or Austen's novels retold from different points of view. These are authors' hopeless love letters to Austen, and I sympathize. But without Austen's brilliance, such books are just a tiny bit boring.

(I know that's a controversial statement. The opinions here expressed do not represent the opinions of the Library or anyone else at all, possibly. But I stand by them.)

Austen's novels are about parties, and picnics, and gossip, and dresses, and who's going to marry whom. Middle-class Georgian English ladies were not supposed to be interested in politics, the stock market, the war, the latest news, or anything interesting. They were largely confined to what made them attractive to potential husbands: their looks, their clothes, their manners, their accomplishments. Attracting the right husband was the most important decision of their lives - until it came time to attract husbands for their daughters.

This is Austen's genius: she shows what a triumph it was for women in such narrow circumstances to grow up straight and true (like Lizzie Bennett) and not neurotic and vapid (like Lizzie Bennet's mother). Emma, Austen's best book, is about a strong and opinionated woman who makes a serious mess out of things, mostly due to sheer boredom.

All of this brings me to a new novel by Mary Robinette Kowal, Shades of Milk and Honey. The plot will look familiar to any Austen reader: two sisters, Jane and Melody. Neither will have a great dowry, but both would like to marry their gentlemanlike neighbor. Then a handsome sea captain comes to the village, as does a mysterious artist. Secrets are discovered; tears are shed. In the end, they find husbands.

The twist is that magic exists in this world. Glamour, it's called; you use it to spin illusions. Because glamour is tiring, it is mostly used for interior decorating and party tricks. It's one of the accomplishments that young ladies are expected to know. In fact, magic is fairly banal and inconsequential, like the other things that women are allowed to occupy themselves with.

This book could have exactly the same plot and ending if there were no magic, which is really a problem for a fantasy novel. Also, the whole premise also seems really doubtful to me: if magic were real, would this setting even exist? If magic were real, is making the parlor look like a forest glade the best use for it you can think of? Even if it's only good for illusions, would not inventors, statesmen, and entrepreneurs of all kinds have poured time, money, and effort into developing applications for it? Would anyone have the resources left to invent the chronometer or steam engines? Would Jane Austen's world have come to pass?

To sum up: I found Shades of Milk and Honey unconvincing and unsatisfying. But if, unlike me, you enjoy Jane Austen pastiches, you might try it.