Лорен Уиллиг - The Mischief of the Mistletoe

The haphazard nature of the educational program, however, is true to form. A contemporary of Austen’s at Mrs. La Tournelle’s described it as a place “where girls might be sent to be out of the way and scramble themselves into an education, without any danger of coming back prodigies.” According to Austen’s biographers, the curriculum included French, spelling, needlework, deportment, dancing, music — and, surprisingly, theatre. The inspiration for the Christmas recital at Miss Climpson’s came directly from Mrs. La Tournelle’s boarding school, where the girls took part in a number of amateur theatricals.

Biographers have debated why Austen failed to finish The Watsons. Her nephew, Austen-Leigh, posited that she abandoned it because her heroine was too socially lowly. Jon Spence, in Becoming Jane Austen, attributes it to her recognition of the grim tone of the novel, arguing, “She had given free rein to the expression of her own bitterness, and it signals her defeat in trying to write The Watsons... [S]he did not want to write such a novel.” Claire Tomalin believes “a more likely reason” may have been because “the theme of the story touched too closely on Jane’s fears for herself.” According to Austen’s older sister, Cassandra, Austen intended to kill off Emma Watson’s father partway through the novel. Deirde Le Faye posits that the death of Austen’s own father, early in 1805, may have been the stimulus for abandoning the book. Far more fun, all around, to pretend that the cause lay in Christmas puddings, French spies, and a man named Turnip.

For those wishing to hear more of Austen in her own voice, there are her letters, reprinted by Pavilion Press (I shamelessly culled phrases from Austen’s extant letters for the letter to Arabella at the front of this book), and her juvenilia, compiled in Catharine and Other Writings. For contemporary, or near-contemporary, recollections, one can go to J. E. Austen-Leigh’s Memoir and Caroline Austen’s My Aunt Jane Austen: A Memoir and Reminiscences. Biographies of the authoress include, among the more recent efforts, Claire Tomalin’s Jane Austen: A Life, Jon Spence’s Becoming Jane Austen, and John Halperin’s The Life of Jane Austen. Deirdre Le Faye’s Jane Austen: The World of Her Novels does an excellent job of situating both the authoress and her novels in cultural context. I also owe a debt of gratitude for the Morgan Library’s fortuitously timed exhibit “A Woman’s Wit: Jane Austen’s Life and Legacy,” which provided a rare opportunity to see letters and manuscript pages written in her own hand, books from her library, and contemporary images of people, places, and events that touched on her life.

As a final note, you may have noticed some differences between Christmas as we know it and as Arabella and Turnip experience it. Much of what we associate with a “traditional” English Christmas came over with Victoria’s Albert from Germany in the mid-nineteenth century. The iconic Christmas tree was introduced by Queen Charlotte in 1800, but only became popular during the reign of her granddaughter, Queen Victoria. Carols were also a Victorian addition to the Christmas canon. Although I did include some anachronisms (like the Christmas pageant), for the folks at Miss Climpson’s and at Girdings House, I tried to re-create the earlier model of Christmas celebration, in which the halls would have been decked with holly — but no tree — and the main celebration took place on Twelfth Night, rather than Christmas proper. Different parts of England had their own regional traditions, including the fascinating Epiphany Eve ritual of frightening away the evil spirits that I co-opted for my characters.

By 1803, the year in which this story is set, plum pudding was well established as traditional Christmas fare. Traditions and mythologies abound. Some require that Christmas pudding be made no later than the twenty-fifth Sunday after Trinity, with each member of the household stirring the pudding three times, in tribute to the Three Kings. Likewise, the thirteen ingredients (although some recipes have more and other fewer) are said to represent Christ and the twelve Apostles, while the holly garnish is meant to symbolize the crown of thorns. Other, less religiously charged, traditions include making a wish as one stirs the pudding (I’ve always liked this one) and hiding coins, gold rings, thimbles, buttons, or other items in the pudding, as the Dowager Duchess of Dovedale does with the cakes in this book.

There are a dizzying number of Christmas pudding recipes. While recipes vary, all seem to include the same basic components: suet, raisins, lemon peel, spices, breadcrumbs, and brandy or ale. According to one source, plum pudding originated as a medieval dish called frumenty — a soupy porridge made up of boiled mutton, raisins, prunes, spices, and wine. With the addition of eggs, breadcrumbs, and dried fruit during the late sixteenth century, the soupy porridge thickened into the glutinous ball recognizable to us as plum pudding. Christmas pudding fell out of favor during the latter part of the seventeenth century but was brought back to the fore by George I, who might not have been able to speak English, but did know a good thing when he tasted it.

King George’s Christmas Pudding (1714)

Combine:

1 lb eggs

1 1/2 lb shredded suet

1 lb dried plums

1 lb raisins

1 lb mixed peel

1 lb currants

1 lb sultanas

1 lb flour

1 lb sugar

1 lb breadcrumbs

1 teaspoon mixed spice

1/2 grated nutmeg

1/2 pint milk

1/2 teaspoon salt

the juice of a lemon

a large glass of brandy

Let stand for 12 hours.

Boil for 8 hours and boil again on Christmas Day for 2 hours.

This will yield 9 lbs of pudding.

Don’t forget to make a wish as you stir...

Turnip Fitzhugh first stumbled his way onto the scene as a lovable bumbler in the second book of the Pink Carnation series, The Masque of the Black Tulip. For some time now, the e-mails have poured in, asking when Turnip was going to get some lovin’ (direct quote, there). For all of you who worried about Turnip’s future, this book is for you.

I had vague ideas for a book about Turnip, but I didn’t know quite what I was going to do with him until The Temptation of the Night Jasmine, at the Dowager Duchess of Dovedale’s Twelfth Night dinner, when I saw Turnip seated all the way down at the end of the table next to a wallflower named Arabella Dempsey. And I thought, what if... ? “What if” always gets me into trouble.

For those of you who have read the series, you’ll have recognized the second half of this book as Night Jasmine turned inside out, the same events and characters experienced from the point of view of minor members of the house party, whose focus and concerns are completely different from those of Robert, Duke of Dovedale; Lady Charlotte Lansdowne; and the other primary actors of that book. Ever wonder why Turnip was trying to cut down that tree with the wrong side of his ax in Night Jasmine? Now you know.

While I tried not to turn this book into a Christmas reunion special, several characters from the prior Pink books did pop up to make appearances in Turnip’s story. As a refresher for those who have read the series, or an introduction for those who haven’t, here’s the Who’s Who of both recurring characters and some new friends and relations of pre-existing ones.

Since we’ve already mentioned Robert and Charlotte, hero and heroine of Book V, The Temptation of the Night Jasmine, here’s the rest of the gang.

Turnip Fitzhugh: Turnip has been around for several books now, fighting off French spies, spreading good cheer, and tripping over things. He attended Eton with the main characters of the first three Pink books: Lord Richard Selwick (aka the Purple Gentian), Miles Dorrington, and Geoffrey Pinchingdale-Snipe. Lord Richard and Miles were the year ahead, Geoff and Turnip a year behind, which accounts for the strange rapport between the brainy Geoff and scatterbrained Turnip.

Miss Penelope Deveraux: Heroine of Book VI, The Betrayal of the Blood Lily. Poor Pen. It’s not easy being a femme fatale. In Penelope’s first appearance, in The Masque of the Black Tulip, she’s being scolded by Henrietta Selwick and Charlotte Lansdowne, her two closest friends, for improper behavior on a balcony with none other than our favorite Turnip. Turnip isn’t the only man with whom Penelope canoodles on projecting bits of masonry. At that very same eventful Twelfth Night ball, just a few hours after the end of this book, restless and rebellious Penelope manages to get herself into a fix she can’t brazen her way out of.

Lord and Lady Vaughn: Stars of Book IV, The Seduction of the Crimson Rose. Lord Vaughn is related to absolutely everyone who is anyone, including dodgy French chevaliers. Having spent a decade in shadowy pursuits on the Continent, Vaughn’s loyalty is frequently suspect. His wife, the former Mary Alsworthy, likes to forget her low origins by lording it over people.

Lord and Lady Pinchingdale: Hero and heroine of Book III, The Deception of the Emerald Ring. Geoffrey Pinchingdale-Snipe originally served in the League of the Scarlet Pimpernel, rose to second-in-command of the League of the Purple Gentian, and now freelances for the League of the Pink Carnation. Given that Geoff tends to be the mastermind behind the scenes, rather than the man in the black mask swinging from a rope, one assumes that fatherhood won’t do too much to curtail his activities for the cause.

Lady Henrietta Dorrington: Heroine of Book II, The Masque of the Black Tulip. We don’t see much of Hen in this one, because, as readers of Night Jasmine know, she’s occupied with Charlotte’s romantic crises, but she does get a brief cameo. Sister of the Purple Gentian, Lord Richard Selwick, Henrietta likes to have a finger in every pie — or pudding, as the case may be.

Lieutenant Tommy Fluellen: Best friend to Robert, Duke of Dovedale, harboring a painful and unrequited infatuation for Miss Penelope Deveraux (see Temptation of the Night Jasmine).

The Dowager Duchess of Dovedale: Terrorizing innocent characters for five books and still going strong. Nothing outlasts the Energizer dragon!

Martin Frobisher, Lord Henry Innes, Sir Francis Medmenham, and Lord Freddy Staines: Men about town and members of the same dodgy Hellfire Club, the Order of the Lotus (see Temptation of the Night Jasmine).

Sally Fitzhugh, Lizzy Reid, and Agnes Wooliston: We haven’t met any of these characters before, but you can bet we’re going to see more of them. Sally Fitzhugh is, obviously, Turnip’s sister, but the other two are also sibs of Pink Carnation veterans.

Lizzy Reid is the younger sister of Captain Alex Reid, hero of Book VI, The Betrayal of the Blood Lily. She’s also sister to Jack Reid, the double agent known as the Moonflower.

Agnes Wooliston is first cousin to Miss Amy Balcourt, heroine of Book I, The Secret History of the Pink Carnation. More important, she’s the youngest sister of Miss Jane Wooliston, aka the Pink Carnation.

Add up three adventurous sixteen-year-olds, two deadly spies, and one very lax headmistress, and you have the potential for a great deal of trouble. . .