It may have been simply the timing – there couldn’t be a better set up for a mystery lover at Christmastime – but Jane and the Twelve Days of Christmas brought Stephanie Barron’s “Being a Jane Austen Mystery” series back into my rotation after a fairly lengthy hiatus.
After two slightly disappointing previous installments, I found myself thoroughly engrossed in a mystery that had all the classic elements of a good mystery: Jane and her family trapped in a snowbound country estate, a nefarious murder that leaves a household full of suspects, geopolitical intrigue, a pleasant subplot of a hand-made doll’s wardrobe and an as-ever observant but slightly more snarky (and hilarious) Jane Austen.
So again, it may have been the timing. It was Christmas, I was determined to get into the Christmas spirit and it was bitterly cold in both Phoenix and Las Vegas (by Phoenix and Las Vegas standards, mind you) where I started and finished the book. I’m a great believer in literary ambiance and if there were ever a book written to be enjoyed while drinking spendy tea and wearing Christmas fuzzy socks this is it.
Yet perhaps this particular installment achieves its aim so well because Barron fleshes out Austen and her family in a way I don’t think she ever has before.
In this book we glimpse Austen’s deep yearning for her deceased father. The complexities of her relationship with her sister Cassandra elevate “Cass” from a background character to a much more appealing player. Likewise, even Austen’s brother Henry and his wife, Mary, unlikeable though they may be, feel like those family members we all have in one iteration or another. That's not to say there's an excessive amount of naval gazing, mind you. But Jane felt more like a woman and less like just a detective-cum-authoress than ever before.
It’s clear Barron conducts an extraordinary amount of research into every book and is meticulous about incorporating actual facts from Austen’s life into the mystery. Or rather, she takes Austen's life and puts a mystery into that time period. If Austen was in Bath in December of 18__, that’s where that mystery will take place. If her brothers were deployed during the first Napoleonic war, then Barron will be certain to work in Jane’s justifiable fretting about them. The books are set up as journal entries for chapters, but the dates are not made up in the slightest. In terms of sheer chronological detail, this series may be as close to nonfiction as a pastiche can ever hope to get.
And maybe that’s why Barron always seemed a bit reticent to develop her Jane Austen’s character. In the other books, I always felt like Austen was almost too objective, her astuteness the product of an impartiality that made her a touch less, well, human.
Not so in Twelve Days, however. It feels as though Barron has made whatever peace she needed to in order to allow this iteration of Austen blossom into a full-fledged heroine, complete with an internal life that goes beyond eagle-eyed observation of others and an intellect softened by wit.
There’s even the slightest whiff of romance, which I for one was happy to see, but in true Austen style this in no way interferes with or subtracts from the very serious business of murder, family secrets and – huzzah! – plausible secret passages.
In addition to a wonderful atmosphere and well-developed characters (there are quite a few, actually), this particular Jane Austen mystery sheds light on Edwardian Christmas celebrations and traditions, which nerds like me always enjoy. From the actual boughs of holly decorating the table to the literal Yule log burning in the hall, I learned quite a bit in the best way possible, by being told a story. Not being religious, I found the days honoring various saints was especially fascinating.
Finally, as a political junkie, the addition of a crucial geopolitical facet to the mystery left me falling asleep only because I couldn’t keep my eyes open and waking up eager to get to reading again. I wish that had been developed a bit more, but respect that it really couldn’t be without stretching the boundary of plausibility too far.
No comments:
Post a Comment