Shades of Milk and Honey, by Mary Robinette Kowal

I grew up at a crafts school.  Our house was filled with people who talked about art, who were thrilled with making things; famous artists visited and taught, poets came to read, musicians played.  It was an unusual childhood.  I grew up to study costume and fashion; I got an MFA in fine art.

So reading Mary Robinette Kowal's Shades of Milk and Honey, a Jane-Austen-inspired novel of Regency-era England, was like coming home.  Here is a book written by a person who understands the tactile enchantment of the creative art process.  Certainly, like Austen, she brings us misguided romances, unmarried sisters, eligible bachelors, ridiculously hysterical mothers, and an intelligent, plucky heroine with both good sense and awareness; there are plot twists and intricate turns of betrayal and forgiveness, and like Austen, a cuttingly clear view of how people tick; but there is more here, not least of which is the introduction of magic into the mix.  For among the accomplishments a young woman in this world of manners and mores is expected to learn, making glamour is as important as music, drawing, and good conversation.  Since the heroine, Jane, is adept at creating elegant effects, whether in the living room of her house or as part of the entertainment at parties, we are allowed into her perceptions of how it's done.  And it's fascinating stuff.

Ms. Kowal, a professional puppeteer since 1989, knows how to make things.  She understands not only how it feels to hold and fold fabric, stitch things together, and stand back to see its effect; she understands the thrill of making an illusion work, of drawing an audience or a viewer so far into that illusion that they forget themselves.  Throughout the book, the joy and anguish of creation, of trying and failing and trying again -- when your eyes can see what's wrong but your fingers aren't quite up to it -- shines through.  Jane is a gifted amateur, modest about her achievements but enough of an artist to want to know more about how glamour works than she can learn in her sheltered environment; when she meets the impenetrable Mr. Vincent, a celebrated glamourist, she is fascinated by the techniques he uses to make his art. Along the way, we get real insights into artists, the making of illusions, and the difference between dabbling and serious art.

This insight into the workings of artists' processes is surprisingly rare, at least in novels, much less novels as enjoyable and readable as this one.  It is difficult for word-people to capture the interiority of art-making, the specific kind of focus required -- a sort of plunge into the materials, a losing of oneself into the moment and movement of it.  But Ms. Kowal has clearly thought carefully about this, because glamour in her world is made from folds and stitches and tyings-off of aether, and requires the same dexterity and awareness of draping that fabric entails; the end effect is one of illusion -- and when it comes to illusion, Ms. Kowal is an expert.

Despite the story's attention to social and historic detail, it doesn't allow itself to become bogged down in the trivialities of manners and society.  As readers, we care about the characters, and we believe in their passions, and to the purity of the historically accurate narration, Ms. Kowal adds a drop, just the tiniest smidge, of a broader, more contemporary awareness.  At the climax, for example, where a father confronts the man who wronged his daughter, the author manages to carry off the complexity of a modern thriller while still nurturing the characters' Regency morals and motivations.  And the dark angst of Mr. Vincent smacks of a character from a Henry James novel: real, fraught, difficult, even tragic, but whose leanings toward disaster are happily kept in check by the enforced tidiness of an Austen-like plot.

Ms Kowal very adeptly manages the old-fashioned language, and uses the formulas of Austen's novels to good avail as a skeleton on which to hang the deeper story: that of an amateur finding her art.  And the love story here is a true one, as well, with the pain and self-doubt of the heroine a nice foil against the satisfyingly difficult male lead.   There are times, just a few, where the story suffers from the mere fact that the author is not, like Jane Austen was, suffering the same specific tribulations as her characters; but this is not really a fair comparison.  Mary Robinette Kowal knows her stuff -- her characters, their art, and the times they lived in, intimately and well.  And that's what matters.

Chick Points:

[We award "chick points" from 1 (lowest) to 5 (highest) for each book we read. Point awards are of course totally subjective, but we hope they at least give a flavor of where a book stands on specific  subjects.]

Strong female characters: @@@@ (4 points out of 5)

The main character, Jane, is wonderful.  In one desperate scene she is being treated with condescension by a man she loathes while trying to get somewhere, and she reacts in exactly the way she should have.  It is such a stellar example of what is wrong with those men who think they are being helpful while treating you like you are stupid -- we all know the type -- that it endeared me forever.  Some of the other characters were allowed to remain true to type without too much tinkering -- Jane's mother, for one, whose puffy hysteria is perfectly reminiscent of Elizabeth Bennet's mother in Pride and Prejudice -- but overall, they are exactly as they need to be for the concept to work.

Treatment of women in the book: @@@@@ (5 points out of 5)

This was a difficult one, as the book is of necessity about the lack of power women had in Regency society.  But Ms. Kowal does what she can with it, to very satisfying effect.  The fact that, when emergency strikes, Jane's father is willing to help his daughter, even if it means throwing propriety to the winds, made me happy.  The unconventional romance that develops is also resolved in a nice way, true to both modern sensibilities and the requirements of the story.

Appearance of women on the cover: N/A

The Regency style portrait on the cover is entirely appropriate and elegant.