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Monthly Archives: February 2006

My only real hobby — besides reading books, buying books, going to libraries, buying more books, wishing I had time to read them, trying to find room to store all my books (all of which is not a hobby, after all, but an obsession, or, if I stretch things a bit, a part of my career and therefore all of it quite necessary) — sorry, where was I? Oh yes . . .

As I was saying (or trying to say, before my book habit got in the way, as it always does) — as I was saying, my only real hobby is acting. I particularly love Shakespeare. At the moment, my husband and I are in a production of Shakespeare’s comedy As You Like It at Caltech. I’m playing Celia, the Duke’s daughter who runs away to the Forest of Arden, and Todd plays Oliver, a villain who reforms and (coincidentally) falls in love with Celia.

Now that I have my lines memorized (and there are a lot of them — Celia is quite a nice role) — I can read John Philip Kemble’s version of the play and tell immediately which lines he cut, and which words he changed. Quite fun!

Kemble was in charge of the Theatre Royal Covent Garden before and during the Regency, and he was one of its top actors too. He was most respected as an actor when playing tragic roles, particularly noble Romans, but he also appeared in comedies. When he was young, he sometimes played Orlando — and when he got a bit older, he often played the melancholy Jaques (who has the famous speech “All the world’s a stage . . .”)

Mrs. Jordan, nowadays better known as the long-time mistress of the Duke of Clarence (one of King George III’s sons, who later became King William IV) and the mother of many of his children, was the most popular comedic actress of the time. She frequently played Rosalind, but by the Regency proper was too old — and too large — to play a young lady who disguised herself as a boy.

Then again, if you look at the engraving here by Bunbury, you will see that even when she was young, the lovely Mrs. Jordan did not possess what we would call a “boyish figure.” Indeed, one can tell from the way the artist drew her that seeing her curvaceous figure in men’s revealing clothing was something that the men found quite pleasing…and so few of the men would have likely complained that the delicious Rosalind would never have passed for a boy with that shape…

Next week, I’ll talk about Kemble’s version of the play — and which lines were too naughty (and which weren’t) for Regency audiences . . .

Cara
Cara King, www.caraking.com
MY LADY GAMESTER — out now from Signet Regency!!!

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Last week I talked about one of my favorite winter pastimes–climbing under the electric blanket and watching movies until it’s spring again. This week, my #2 winter favorite–eating! Regency-style (sort of).

I’m not much of a cook. I just don’t have the patience for it, beyond stuff like omelettes and pasta carbonara. But I love to eat (and I’m sure my hips will love me for it, come May and sundress time!). And, if you look at portraits of people like our friend Prinny, obviously people in the Regency shared my appreciation for yummy cuisine.

Regency dinner parties were quite different from my own, of course. No bagged Caesar salads and boxes from the Mandarin Wok. Louis XIV’s court at Versailles (no slouch in the dining department) established the custom of dining “a la francaise”, i.e. all the different dishes at each course were placed on the table at the same time. Diners could then help themselves (or let footmen help them) to whatever was nearby. I imagine this would mean that the guests couldn’t sample all the dishes, so you would have to be sure an interesting selection was near each guest. It would be terrible if your favorite was waaay down the table! In France, important feasts could include up to eight courses (including my favorite, dessert), and last many hours. In England, it seems that even very formal dinners were usually in three courses (also including dessert!), after which ladies could retire to the drawing room for tea and gossip, and the men could remain behind for drinking.

But even the abbreviated courses meant dinner could last hours. In 1829, in a book titled “Apician Morsels”, the author wrote, “Five hours at dinner table are a reasonable latitude when the company is numerous and no lack of good cheer.” In “The Experienced English Housekeeper” (1769), Elizabeth Raffald pointed out “As many dishes as you have in one course, so many baskets or plates your dessert must have, and as my bill of fare is twenty-five to each course, so must your dessert be of the same number and set out in the same number.” Thus making 75 dishes. At a party in 1767, Sir William Lowther offered 180 dishes at his home in York.

The first course usually consisted of soups and stews, vegetables and boiled fish and meats, followed by “remove” dishes of more fish or meat. The second course sounds similar to me–vegetables, meats, fish, with exotic pies and other savory baked fare like “gumballs” and “cheese wigs.” (FYI, gumballs were made from eggs, flour, sugar, butter, mace, aniseed, and caraway seeds mixed together in a paste, then baked. Cheese wigs–er, I’m not entirely sure. Maybe another Risky can enlighten us!). Dessert was then the crowning glory. In 1750, Horace Walpole wrote “All the geniuses of the age are employed in designing new plans for dessert.” At a party given by the Duke and Duchess of Norfolk in 1756, dessert was “a Beautiful Park, round the edge was a Plantation of Flowering Shrubs, and in the middle a Fine piece of water with Dolphins Spouting out water.” Beats a carton of Hagen Dazs Dulce de Leche, I guess. 🙂

A very large household could employ their own confectioner, but smaller households would usually make use of independent chefs. In 1763, Viscount Fairfax held a party for 18 people, and the invoice for dessert (provided by William Baker) was 16 pounds, which included the rental of the glass structures necessary to display the dessert.

I recently came across a slightly modified recipe for Hedgehog Cake, which I may (or may not) attempt soon. Cake and custard, ummmmm. (If you’d like the recipe, just let me know!)

Hopefully winter will be over soon!

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Greetings, dear ones! Bertie the Beau here once again, popping in whenever I have an atom of free time.

Could someone please explain:

1) What is football? And why are the members of gang called the Stealers not in gaol?

2) What is half time? Is that a sort of time-travelling device?

3) What is the secret to the Tele-Vision story entitled “Lost”? If so many people actually watch these lost people, why cannot any of the watchers tell the lost people where they are?

4) Why are the modern Olympic Games called the Olympic Games when the competitors are obviously clothed?

5) Why would a beautiful woman become so desperate that she married a house?

(As you may guess, I have been studying the Tele-Vision device, which may explain why I only have an atom of free time.)

As ever, I remain exquisitely yours.

Bertram St James

The biggest message I have today is that…Cathy Decker’s Regency pages are back!

They have been down before and down for some time, but this last time I worried that they would not be back. But today I checked, and there they are. If you haven’t visited Cathy’s Regency pages before, do it now–and if you have seen them before (which may be most of us) it’s worth going again.

http://hal.ucr.edu/~cathy/reg.html

If you check out her home page, she has an explanation of what is happening with her site. It is a mammoth contribution, so I am not surprised that all the links do not work all of the time. I’m not bothered at all as long as she keeps the site going! Yes, there are
other Regency sites, but I believe that hers is the best, in sheer volume of information and in the detail that she is able to present. I say that primarily because she mentioned her journal pages where she has included written content when available (from such as “The Gallery of Fashion”). I don’t know of another site which has such a complete collection of fashion plates/journal pages from the Regency period.

Cathy’s Regency pages also contain some of her own articles, being a student of the period. I should mention that Cathy Decker is Dr. Cathy Decker with a PhD in 18th Century British Literature and the novel, and teaches in the Dept. of Psychology at the University of California at Riverside. I won’t try to explain how her degree and psychology are connected, only that she has worked with the Psycholinguistics and Computational Cognition Lab. If you are curious, go here:
http://hal.ucr.edu/~cathy/lab.html

I know that the lab site is the old location of her pages:
http://locutus.ucr.edu/index.html

Being me, I of course visited the lab cats page!
http://locutus.ucr.edu/catindex.html

The portrait image is from the Elisabeth Louise Le Brun Art page, which is one of the pages linked to Cathy’s site.
http://www.batguano.com/vigee.html

Well, that’s all for today…go check out Cathy’s Regency pages!

Laurie Bishop
LORD RYBURN’S APPRENTICE
Signet, January 2005

Next week–February 9th from 12:30-2:00, to be exact–I’ll be signing books, along with
Eloisa James, at Waldenbooks in Rockefeller Center in New York City. It’s my first bookstore signing, and I’m pretty psyched (and yes, I will be wearing all black. I mean, did you expect taupe and teal?).

Which led me to think about meeting authors, and what you’d say to them, or if you even like meeting authors (or musicians, or artists, or actors), or if you prefer to keep your distance. And if you did meet someone whose work you admire–an author, specifically–what would you ask?


If I could ask Jane Austen a question, it would be: ‘Can I be you?’ No. Maybe not. How about ‘Do you like people, or do you just like making fun of them?’ Or ‘Were you trying to be so obvious in naming Mr. Knightley?’

If I met the Bronte sisters, I’d have to ask just what they felt about their brother, and were they really as nutty as their writing makes them seem.

If I met Jorge Luis Borges, I’d ask him–oh, I dunno. It wouldn’t be possible to ask him how his mind works, so I think I’d just gawk (I thought of Borges because in addition to Groundhog Day, yesterday was also the date of the founding of Buenos Aires, and Borges was Argentinean).

So–do you like getting to meet creators in person? Which authors would you most like to meet, and what would you ask them? Whom have you met already?

And, if you are in NYC next week, come say hi!

Megan
www.meganframpton.com