REVIEW: The Girls of King's Royal
Oct. 6th, 2008 09:23 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
feather_ghyllThe Girls of Kings Royal: L. T. Meade. Chambers 1913
My first L. T Meade, and having some idea of her importance in terms of girls' stories, I was very curious about it, but having finished the book, I can't say I was that impressed. I think I was meant to be uplifted by the moral tone, but I was more flummoxed by its silliness than anything and quite the resistant reader.
"Thou wilt not point the wanton toe in my presence." (p 61)
"I have forgotten nothing," she said, "I have given up nothing. Be careful how you treat me. The lion sometimes lies down and sleeps but he awakens with renewed strength. Such is the case with Cora St. John." (p 213)
The three Rossalyn girls are brought up by the strictest of Quaker mothers, Endeavour Rossalyn (who rules over her husband by the strength of her personality, never mind Biblical teaching, although it's her disapproval of flowers of any other colour than white that got to me). When her niece Bridget (who is such a cliche of an Irish girl - completely surprising given that Meade was Irish) decides that her cousins shouldn't be effectively cloistered, which is fair enough, she gets her way through hugs and kisses and by simply assuming that everyone will carry out her orders. And the do.
So, Mercy, Prudence and Ruth, whose education so far, like mine, has left them ignorant of the kings of England, go to Highfield, a select school run by a reputedly excellent woman - Mrs Penelope Penrose. Given her blatant favouritism, I found her so-called wisdom hard to swallow. It was partly because she used one of those favourites, Bridget, to warn the three Rosslyns not to trust a new girl until she had sounded her out (!) that said new girl, Cora St. John took a hate to the high-minded but blunt eldest Rosslyn, Mercy.
Cue a ridiculous plot (and some fun interpreting the motivation), where Cora manipulates and blackmails person after person to keep herself in funds and get Mercy excommunicated from the Quakers!!! (She couldn't settle for getting her expelled like most schoolgirl villainesses?) Perhaps I should say that I found goodie Bridget as annoying as Cora, however much Meade approves of the former and paints her as sweetness and light -- they both gush like nobody's business.
Anyway, via a ridiculous letter and supporting machinations, Cora gets the Rosslyns (wait for it) dancing (oh noes!), an activity that their mother and creed have forbidden for them. The Rosslyns, particularly Mercy, and Cora's pawns are dishonoured publicly - but not Cora, although Bridget and others suspect her of some involvement. It takes a barrage of telegrams, train journeys and encounters (in which everyone more or less repeats the same facts) to sort it out and for hard Endurance to show Cora mercy because Mercy begs it (and for the writer to forget that Mrs Penrose, not Endurance, runs Highfield). Also, you just know that Meade named the mother and daughter solely for that moment.
There are countless 'oh please' moments and several unintentionally hilarious lines -- this is rank and badly done melodrama, perhaps because its intent is to improve rather than to entertain. There's no mention of the actual lessons at the school -- this may be because of the time in which it was written, but what is in the book undermines what the author says about its scholastic excellence. Naturally able she might be, but I don't think that a girl who's ignorant of the history of England could turn out to be scholarship material just like that. This overly emotionally charged tale is full of contradictions, making it impossible to take too seriously or to read it as Meade intended, otherwise I got too exasperated.
She listened, however, to Cora's tale, which was, to say the least of it, extremely incongruous, and had so many loopholes which seemed to Lady Blair to point to Cora's wickedness, that she had scarcely patience to endure the silly and badly-made-up tale. (p 301)
Honestly, it was a let down.
My first L. T Meade, and having some idea of her importance in terms of girls' stories, I was very curious about it, but having finished the book, I can't say I was that impressed. I think I was meant to be uplifted by the moral tone, but I was more flummoxed by its silliness than anything and quite the resistant reader.
"Thou wilt not point the wanton toe in my presence." (p 61)
"I have forgotten nothing," she said, "I have given up nothing. Be careful how you treat me. The lion sometimes lies down and sleeps but he awakens with renewed strength. Such is the case with Cora St. John." (p 213)
The three Rossalyn girls are brought up by the strictest of Quaker mothers, Endeavour Rossalyn (who rules over her husband by the strength of her personality, never mind Biblical teaching, although it's her disapproval of flowers of any other colour than white that got to me). When her niece Bridget (who is such a cliche of an Irish girl - completely surprising given that Meade was Irish) decides that her cousins shouldn't be effectively cloistered, which is fair enough, she gets her way through hugs and kisses and by simply assuming that everyone will carry out her orders. And the do.
So, Mercy, Prudence and Ruth, whose education so far, like mine, has left them ignorant of the kings of England, go to Highfield, a select school run by a reputedly excellent woman - Mrs Penelope Penrose. Given her blatant favouritism, I found her so-called wisdom hard to swallow. It was partly because she used one of those favourites, Bridget, to warn the three Rosslyns not to trust a new girl until she had sounded her out (!) that said new girl, Cora St. John took a hate to the high-minded but blunt eldest Rosslyn, Mercy.
Cue a ridiculous plot (and some fun interpreting the motivation), where Cora manipulates and blackmails person after person to keep herself in funds and get Mercy excommunicated from the Quakers!!! (She couldn't settle for getting her expelled like most schoolgirl villainesses?) Perhaps I should say that I found goodie Bridget as annoying as Cora, however much Meade approves of the former and paints her as sweetness and light -- they both gush like nobody's business.
Anyway, via a ridiculous letter and supporting machinations, Cora gets the Rosslyns (wait for it) dancing (oh noes!), an activity that their mother and creed have forbidden for them. The Rosslyns, particularly Mercy, and Cora's pawns are dishonoured publicly - but not Cora, although Bridget and others suspect her of some involvement. It takes a barrage of telegrams, train journeys and encounters (in which everyone more or less repeats the same facts) to sort it out and for hard Endurance to show Cora mercy because Mercy begs it (and for the writer to forget that Mrs Penrose, not Endurance, runs Highfield). Also, you just know that Meade named the mother and daughter solely for that moment.
There are countless 'oh please' moments and several unintentionally hilarious lines -- this is rank and badly done melodrama, perhaps because its intent is to improve rather than to entertain. There's no mention of the actual lessons at the school -- this may be because of the time in which it was written, but what is in the book undermines what the author says about its scholastic excellence. Naturally able she might be, but I don't think that a girl who's ignorant of the history of England could turn out to be scholarship material just like that. This overly emotionally charged tale is full of contradictions, making it impossible to take too seriously or to read it as Meade intended, otherwise I got too exasperated.
She listened, however, to Cora's tale, which was, to say the least of it, extremely incongruous, and had so many loopholes which seemed to Lady Blair to point to Cora's wickedness, that she had scarcely patience to endure the silly and badly-made-up tale. (p 301)
Honestly, it was a let down.
