Perdita by Paula Byrne
Gainsborough Library has clearly embarked on a programme to educate the
Gringley Book Club in the adventures of feisty late 18th century celebrity women.
Following directly on from Mary Eleanor Bowes (in Wedlock last month), please
now meet Mary Robinson, an almost exact contemporary. Born 1757 in Bristol,
her stunning beauty and theatrical potential was spotted by David Garrick, while
as a writer she became the protégée of Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire. She
was soon on the stage at Drury Lane, where in the role of Perdita she captivated
the Prince of Wales (eventually George IV) and left the stage to become his first
public consort. That was followed by dalliances with Charles James Fox, for
whom she actively campaigned in the crucial Westminster by-election, and then
the soldier Banastre Tarleton. The major portraitists (Gainsborough, Reynolds
and Romney) all painted her, and she was lampooned in many Gillray cartoons.
Crippled in her mid twenties by a mystery affliction, Mary then became a novelist
and poet, rubbing shoulders especially with Coleridge, and became known as the
“English Sappho” before dying in her early forties. Paula Byrne’s biography from
2005 had been a commercial success, and a Richard & Judy choice.
This book is much thicker than Wedlock, in smaller print, and written in a drier
and more conventional biographical style, though stopping short of being an
academic treatise. There are lengthy quotations from letters, biographies, novels
and poems, not just from the pen of Perdita. Your reviewer has an interest with
this period of history, backed up now by obligations to report faithfully on the
books the Club reads, so waded dutifully through to the end. I found both the
book and the person interesting, though they were both also inclined to be
tedious and somewhat self-important. It was no great surprise to find my
response shared by the majority of the Book Club. Some had made a start and
given up at an early stage. Only a handful had made it through to the end.
Typical quotes were: “I found Mary herself fascinating, but the book got tedious
as it went on” or “it really suffered coming on the back of the previous book.”
Even those who had only read part of the book because of the heavy going
found Mary herself an intriguing person. Her “career” had started at such a
young age, and she had found early celebrity, indeed notoriety, and then had
had to reinvent herself more than once. Comparisons were drawn with Madonna
and Jordan in today’s world. None of us had heard of her before reading this
book, and some suspected her historical significance had been overplayed by this
author. Combined with Wedlock, we all felt we had learned a lot more about this
period, with a few illusions shattered. The apparent behaviour of the male
aristocracy was particular noteworthy – not just the rampant immorality, but the
way everybody seemed to live on credit. What changes?
All in all, the Book Club was pleased to have learned about Mary Robinson, but
disappointed by the book itself; it scored quite poorly, with no high scores at all
to bolster the average, and many did not feel they had read enough of it to
proffer a score.
Our leader then piled on the table the next book from the library – a 17th century
biography of a gentlemen’s club - and she suggested we rebel. The revolt was
unanimously agreed, and an alternative book eventually selected, no doubt to
the benefit of Amazon and others!
Page Turner
Next Month: Post Mortem by Patricia Cornwell