From Allison:
It looks like the librarians at the National Park Service (talk about an awesome job!) are serializing an old book (“Yellowstone Park Romance” from 1911, I think) in the run up to Valentines Day.
Apparently you will “follow the adventures of Clara and her gentleman hobo as they fall in love amidst the wonders of Yellowstone” (at least according to the FB post that tipped me off to this). Sounds nifty to me, and maybe to other SBs, too?
YES. YES IT DOES.
(Is it wrong that I searched for romances titled, “Her Gentleman Hobo?”)
ETA: From one of those most awesome librarians, Jessi:
Did you know that people can fall in love anywhere? Even a National Park? We’re trying something new at the Yellowstone Research Library and serializing one of our (out-of-copyright) books, “Yellowstone Romance,” on our blog.
Purple prose? Check. Edwardian era terminology? Check. (Partial) Epistolary narrative? Check. Winsome young heroine? Check. Gentleman hobo as hero? Check.? Wait… What?
Part travel guide, part love story, this book just had to be shared. We’re pairing every chapter with an image from either the museum or the archives (’cause, you know, culture). Excerpts are also being posted every day on the park’s Instagram.
It started on Feb. 1 and will run through Valentine’s.
I also like this part of the introduction to the story:
Please note that many of the practices the author writes about (including feeding the animals or tramping near certain features) are no longer allowed today.
Understood.
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We’ve got a three question survey and respectfully ask for your input, should you be interested! Would you be interested in a subscription box for romance readers? Answer me (or us) these questions three!
Thank you in advance!
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I read this about a week or so ago, and I’m still thinking about it – mostly because I forgot to share it with you.
After the publication of her newest book, True Pretenses ( A | BN | K | AB | WorldCat ), Rose Lerner, a recent guest on the DBSA Podcast, wrote about anti-Semitism during the Regency over at All About Romance (or A-Ayar, if you’re me and talk too fast) and everything she shared was fascinating to me:
There was a sort of unpredictable algorithm for how accepted you could be based on (1) how much money you had and how good your parties were and (2) how British you were willing to be. The markers in the British assimilation spectrum were things like “dressing in British fashions,” “not keeping kosher,” “donating money to Christian charities,” etc. The end of the spectrum was conversion, and rich Jews who hoped to integrate fully into British society did convert. Whether they were truly 100% accepted is doubtful, but they certainly got much closer.
The part about “Jewish noses were fluctuating up and down before mine eyes” has inspired many a hilarious animation in my brain.
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And finally, I was really proud to be quoted in this article by Danielle Binks titled, When will we write an obituary for literary sexism? THIS IS A GOOD QUESTION. Looking at the sexism of the obit and the long reach of influence following the publication of The Thorn Birds, Binks wrote,
Looking back at McCullough’s career, research fellow in English literature at Deakin University Michelle Smith wrote; ‘Like much women’s genre fiction, McCullough’s romances and detective fiction were often regarded as unimportant at the same time as they were acknowledged as undeniably compelling.’
Binks asked this question following (in case you missed it and if you did I am sorry about the following information which may cause turdly feelings) the ghastly obituary in The Australian for The Thorn Birds author Colleen McCullough which began, and put down the sharp objects, I must insist:
COLLEEN McCullough, Australia’s best selling author, was a charmer. Plain of feature, and certainly overweight, she was, nevertheless, a woman of wit and warmth.
Oh, have mercy.
This delightful bit of horribleness inspired Joel Meares at the Sydney Morning Herald to craft similar obituaries for famous literary figures:
Mark Twain
Unkempt and certainly hobo-esque, Mark Twain nevertheless could weave a rollicking tale of river-bound adventure.
(Did I anticipate two mentions of the word “hobo” in this entry? No, I did not.)
Binks’ article also highlights the sexist silence when it comes to Australian publications lauding the career of Australian author Stephanie Laurens:
Stephanie Laurens is the #1 New York Times international bestselling Australian romance author of the Cynsters series. Laurens has enjoyed incredible success over her long career; ‘I’ve been consistently globally published (so for 25 years), translated into umpteen languages, have received a RITA award (US) and a Ruby (Aust), am a #1 New York Times bestseller, and at last count 33 of my 60 titles have appeared on the upper ranks of the NYT fiction bestseller lists. All of my current 60 titles remain active in print and e-book globally, and that number increases every year.’
And yet, Laurens is rarely celebrated as one of Australia’s biggest author exports, her name rarely listed amongst the likes of Matthew Reilly, Tom Keneally, or Australia’s once lauded “biggest-selling author” Bryce Courtenay (whose 2012 obituary in The Australian celebrated him as a ‘latter-day Dickens,’ FYI). Laurens admits; ‘I have achieved all that [success] with next to no recognition from the Australian media.’
Books like The Thorn Birds, as I wrote to Binks when she emailed me, is a major part of what I see as the literary inheritance among women. So many of us are introduced to romance when a female relative or friend hands us a book – or better yet, hides a book so we won’t see it. Both were the case with The Thorn Birds, and while the book itself isn’t exactly a romance, it was the gateway for many readers into the genre.
But of course, it’s so very difficult to celebrate and acknowledge any achievements of women without bringing their appearance into the discussion.
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From Terri:
I’m pretty certain that you’ve seen the sex chair post on the Apartment Therapy site, but on the very slim chance that you hadn’t, I had to share it.
I checked out the site for the first chair listed, and the “How It Works” video that (ahem) demonstrates the features of the chair is hysterical.
Between the flexible and yet apathetic-looking models/demonstrators, the weirdly generic voice (the narrator reminded me a bit of Siri), the music (I will never listen to “Moonlight Sonata” the same way again), and the fact that the people seemed to be getting it on in the living room right by a wall made entirely of windows, the entire thing would seem like a joke if it weren’t so solemn.
I am hoping to either see some of these on the covers of erotic contemporary, or read about them in a sex scene VERY SOON. PLEASE. YES. YES, YOU SHOULD.
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So, what are you reading online this week? Any links you want to share that made you laugh or think or fume or both or all three?
I felt so badly on Ms McCullough’s behalf when I read her obituary in The Australian that I felt physical pain.
Why, why are men so afraid of women?
Haha the sex chairs are fantastic. Especially the videos for the Tantra chair. It’s basically porn movies to sell a chair. Ha, love it.
Did you notice on the sex chair page on apartment therapy.com there was a link to sexy wallpaper patterns?
I get that we, as the females of the species, are subjected to ridiculous, and rude, commentary focusing solely on our physical charms, or seeming lack there of, our “womanly” accomplishments, our fertility and marriageability, etc, at the exclusion of our actual merits and accomplishments. That is wrong.
I feel like, perhaps in this instance, there is some wiggle room. I don’t think the author of that obituary intended to denigrate Colleen McCullough. I think “Plain of feature, and certainly overweight…” is perhaps a badly worded attempt to describe a woman who didn’t care about, and maybe even reveled a bit in, not fitting the cookie cutter ideal for womanhood.
“In one interview, she said: “I’ve never been into clothes or figure and the interesting thing is I never had any trouble attracting men.”” I think this woman may have enjoyed the irony of being so successful at life, renowned scientist, acclaimed author, independent woman, all in a man’s world. A woman who was married for the first time at age 46, to a man younger than her by 13 years, and was apparently successful there too as he was still with her 30 years later.
I don’t know Colleen McCullough but if this were my obituary, I’d have a good laugh.
Has anyone seen this yet?
http://www.ew.com/article/2015/02/05/watch-new-lego-parody-fifty-shades-grey-trailer
Thank you, Sarah 🙂 and for your fantastically spot-on comments.
… I was disheartened after the McCullough disrespect, that Harper Lee’s publishing news was met with similar sexist comments. Lots of people on social media didn’t realise she was a woman, for one thing. And many news outlets (*cough* CNBC *cough*) saw fit to drudge up that old nasty gossip that Truman Capote actually wrote ‘To Kill a Mockingbird’ (because, “duh”, a woman couldn’t have written a Pulitzer Prize-winning novel and Capote was definitely the sort of person who wouldn’t take credit for that Great American Novel if he had ghostwritten it).
LitWorld sexism.
Urgh, to the nth degree.
I’ll be checking in on “Yellowstone Park Romance” to see how it compares to “The Furnace of Gold” by Philip Verrill Mighels, publ. 1909. I found this when we were going through my great-uncle’s house before it was torn down (built by my great-great uncle in 1910, and home to four generations of my family, but Skokie wanted a parking lot, so there you go). I treasure this little gem featuring, yes, a woman trying to pass as a boy set in Nevada. So, I come by my romance addiction genetically as this must’ve belonged to my Great-Grandmother. The next to last chapters are titled The Engines of Climax and The Last Cigars which I totally didn’t appreciate when I was younger before my love of a good sex euphemism developed.
A lot of authors posted sarcastic self-obits after the appalllingly sexist McCullough one was printed, of which my favorite was author Neil Gaiman’s: “Although his beard looked like someone had glued it on and his hair would have been unconvincing as a wig, he married a rockstar” (Amanda Palmer, for those who don’t know”
Holy. I’m Australian and I had no idea that Stephanie Laurens was Australian. It’s so very sexist that I didn’t know that. Our media lauds anyone remotely Australian and successful but she’s not well known? Wow.
I attended my best friend’s sister’s memorial this weekend. After reading her (glowing) obituary, I realize I have, perhaps, an uncommon expectation for reality in obituaries.
My friend’s sister was well liked by many and truly loved by her family but she was not an easy person to live with. She likely suffered from a mild form of autism, whatever the cause, she lacked real empathy and impulse control. She was rather selfish. She was not a stellar mother. To my knowledge she was neither terribly talented artistically, nor very, very smart. She frequently got into situations she’d later have to be bailed out of, purely as a result of not thinking ahead, and she was stubborn and unapologetic about it. She took it as her due, to be rescued, repeatedly, from the consequences her own actions at the expense of others.
To be fair, she did try. She would acknowledge her mistakes, just couldn’t seem to learn from them. She loved her children and family unreservedly.
Her obituary read, to me, like fiction. Or fantasy.
Perhaps it’s a very good thing that I am not called upon to write obituaries as I might see fit to add in some truth to the mix.
On the other hand, her family seemed very well pleased to remember her good points, and I know she had them, and forget any hint of the stress she heaped upon them daily. I didn’t want them to sit around and bad mouth their daughter or sister or mother or niece or aunt or friend, but I felt quite unable to connect the person I was hearing about to the woman I new. Certainly, I had nothing to say about that person.
All this is to say, when the time comes, I hope my own obit reads like the story of my life and not the story of the person people wished me to be. It may well begin with, “She was fat and happy…”
[…] Links: Yellowstone Romance, A 3 Question Survey, and Oh … http://smartbitchestrashybooks.com/Part travel guide, part love story, this book just had to be shared. We're … Binks' article also highlights the sexist silence when it comes to Australian publications lauding the career of Australian author Stephanie Laurens:. […]
My mom had a copy of The Thorn Birds, and I read it when I was probably way too young. It may have been my first romance novel, followed by Sunfire romances and some Christian ones. My favorite Thorn Birds story comes from my best friend. She had never read it or seen the movie, but I had told her about it. Then later she and her boyfriend were stuck in a hotel room in Barcelona (I think) with food poisoning. There wasn’t much on TV except The Thorn Birds in Catalan. Between BF’s sketchy knowledge of Spanish and the bits of plot I had told her they figured out what was going on. And they were entertained and distracted from their misery.