Review: Such Mighty Rage by C. Guy Clayton
Such Mighty Rage by C. Guy Clayton
Published in 1985
Rating: Loved it! (5/5)
I'm sorry, my dears. I am still a traitor to the "real" Percy and Marguerite. (I've been instructed that I can't love both Orczy and Clayton.)
Not that my treachery should be surprising. I mean, I'm the girl who found something to like in The Phantom of the Paradise. I will grant you that I never loved Paradise as I'm finding myself loving Clayton's novels, and I do understand why you hesitate to read them yourselves. (pan_demalheur can bear witness to my reaction to my first reading of Daughter of the Revolution -- it was one of two times I was seriously tempted to burn a book.)
I don't think I can fully explain why the change occurred (though I have tried in my post on the last volume). I simply know that it has, and my enjoyment has only increased with this volume.
I do have a few hesitations as I begin the third book of the series. This is because a lot of my pleasure derives itself from seeing the story reinterpreted by someone whose ideas and reactions are so very different from mine. If nothing else, Clayton must be congratulated on the inventiveness behind the first two books. Since it seems the third is to drift into unfamiliar territory, I don't expect the delightful irony to continue, at least not in the same way. However, by this time, I have fully taken Clayton into my heart and will proceed with all possible good will.
The premise behind the first two books is this. The Day Dream sank off the coast of Guernsey on 22 March 1805 with its owner aboard. Before the end of the year, Lord Antony Dewhurst published Memoir of a Gallant Friend, which was later Orczy's basis for The Scarlet Pimpernel and which provoked Lord Hastings to challenge Dewhurst to a duel as the memoir cast aspersions on Marguerite's character. In the years leading up to her death in 1824, Marguerite began her books in answer to a request made by the Vicomte de Tournay.
This duality of records is set up in the first book, but it's in the second that it truly comes to fruition. You see, if there's a villain in Such Mighty Rage, it's actually, unwittingly Lord Antony Dewhurst (which I think I enjoyed all the more as he's always been my favourite League member).
You may recall I revealed that one of the twists in this series is that Armand is an alter-ego for Marguerite, invented out of necessity, continued out of convenience. Well, you see, though Tony (who is not in on the secret) immediately takes a shine to Marguerite -- well, the opposite happens with Armand, and it proceeds to the point where Tony will pop Armand one whenever (s)he comes too close.
Such Mighty Rage is a wonderful romp through mistaken identities, blatant infidelity, jealous ex-lovers, theft on the grandest scale imaginable and a wonderful battle over the reader's idea of "what really happened", Marguerite's version or Tony's (reported through Orczy). *
Interestingly, on the surface, at least, Tony's version seems much less derisive of Marguerite's character than Marguerite's does of Tony. Also, Hastings has yet to walk onto the page (meaning he has not been witness to any of it). Clayton admits in Daughter of the Revolution:
It is hard to discover anything in Lord Antony's portrayal of Lady Blakeney that might have provoked Hastings.
So one also wonders if a) Orczy's version glossed things over and/or b) we shall get find some hint of the insult, which Clayton "missed". That's certainly enough to keep me going into the third volume.
Also, I love this quote, as it perfectly sums up Percy's theory of the best way to perform a rescue:
There are two ways of setting about this sort of thing, my friend. You can either act so discreetly that no one knows that you've done it, or you can make so much noise and ostentation that they fall over themselves to oblige. I favour the latter. Now as soon as Marguerite is presentable [ie: in drag] we'll put it into effect.
I know many (okay most) people who are reading this likely won't got out and read Clayton, but I really wish you would give it a try. I know if circumstances had not conspired in the way they did, I might still be stuck in the same rut. If nothing else, it's a great look at just how far the Pimpernel story can be stretched (though it is so much more). It gave me such a wonderful realignment -- reminding me that even the more sacred texts could do with a little re-interpretation (or even ridicule), and just because at one point you don't agree with something, that doesn't means there isn't value to be found in it, or even that you might one day come to love it.
*Yes, yes, the Orczy version is right, but I'm speaking from that mental-gymnastics-promotes-mental-health frame of mind.
ETA: I forgot to mention my one major disappointment with Clayton's second volume. Though the author draws attention to Tony/Orczy/Marguerite's antisemitism, I wish there had been a similar attention drawn to the blatant gay-bashing in "Marguerite's" version. One cannot ask for perfection, despite having strong links to the persecuted group. I can only hope that, in the the twenty first century, we will finally begin to release all our prejudices.
Cate
Published in 1985
Rating: Loved it! (5/5)
I'm sorry, my dears. I am still a traitor to the "real" Percy and Marguerite. (I've been instructed that I can't love both Orczy and Clayton.)
Not that my treachery should be surprising. I mean, I'm the girl who found something to like in The Phantom of the Paradise. I will grant you that I never loved Paradise as I'm finding myself loving Clayton's novels, and I do understand why you hesitate to read them yourselves. (pan_demalheur can bear witness to my reaction to my first reading of Daughter of the Revolution -- it was one of two times I was seriously tempted to burn a book.)
I don't think I can fully explain why the change occurred (though I have tried in my post on the last volume). I simply know that it has, and my enjoyment has only increased with this volume.
I do have a few hesitations as I begin the third book of the series. This is because a lot of my pleasure derives itself from seeing the story reinterpreted by someone whose ideas and reactions are so very different from mine. If nothing else, Clayton must be congratulated on the inventiveness behind the first two books. Since it seems the third is to drift into unfamiliar territory, I don't expect the delightful irony to continue, at least not in the same way. However, by this time, I have fully taken Clayton into my heart and will proceed with all possible good will.
The premise behind the first two books is this. The Day Dream sank off the coast of Guernsey on 22 March 1805 with its owner aboard. Before the end of the year, Lord Antony Dewhurst published Memoir of a Gallant Friend, which was later Orczy's basis for The Scarlet Pimpernel and which provoked Lord Hastings to challenge Dewhurst to a duel as the memoir cast aspersions on Marguerite's character. In the years leading up to her death in 1824, Marguerite began her books in answer to a request made by the Vicomte de Tournay.
This duality of records is set up in the first book, but it's in the second that it truly comes to fruition. You see, if there's a villain in Such Mighty Rage, it's actually, unwittingly Lord Antony Dewhurst (which I think I enjoyed all the more as he's always been my favourite League member).
You may recall I revealed that one of the twists in this series is that Armand is an alter-ego for Marguerite, invented out of necessity, continued out of convenience. Well, you see, though Tony (who is not in on the secret) immediately takes a shine to Marguerite -- well, the opposite happens with Armand, and it proceeds to the point where Tony will pop Armand one whenever (s)he comes too close.
Such Mighty Rage is a wonderful romp through mistaken identities, blatant infidelity, jealous ex-lovers, theft on the grandest scale imaginable and a wonderful battle over the reader's idea of "what really happened", Marguerite's version or Tony's (reported through Orczy). *
Interestingly, on the surface, at least, Tony's version seems much less derisive of Marguerite's character than Marguerite's does of Tony. Also, Hastings has yet to walk onto the page (meaning he has not been witness to any of it). Clayton admits in Daughter of the Revolution:
It is hard to discover anything in Lord Antony's portrayal of Lady Blakeney that might have provoked Hastings.
So one also wonders if a) Orczy's version glossed things over and/or b) we shall get find some hint of the insult, which Clayton "missed". That's certainly enough to keep me going into the third volume.
Also, I love this quote, as it perfectly sums up Percy's theory of the best way to perform a rescue:
There are two ways of setting about this sort of thing, my friend. You can either act so discreetly that no one knows that you've done it, or you can make so much noise and ostentation that they fall over themselves to oblige. I favour the latter. Now as soon as Marguerite is presentable [ie: in drag] we'll put it into effect.
I know many (okay most) people who are reading this likely won't got out and read Clayton, but I really wish you would give it a try. I know if circumstances had not conspired in the way they did, I might still be stuck in the same rut. If nothing else, it's a great look at just how far the Pimpernel story can be stretched (though it is so much more). It gave me such a wonderful realignment -- reminding me that even the more sacred texts could do with a little re-interpretation (or even ridicule), and just because at one point you don't agree with something, that doesn't means there isn't value to be found in it, or even that you might one day come to love it.
*Yes, yes, the Orczy version is right, but I'm speaking from that mental-gymnastics-promotes-mental-health frame of mind.
ETA: I forgot to mention my one major disappointment with Clayton's second volume. Though the author draws attention to Tony/Orczy/Marguerite's antisemitism, I wish there had been a similar attention drawn to the blatant gay-bashing in "Marguerite's" version. One cannot ask for perfection, despite having strong links to the persecuted group. I can only hope that, in the the twenty first century, we will finally begin to release all our prejudices.
Cate