Not Quite Sabbatini

There has been the usual bustle of a household at Christmas and mine's been no exception. We live in a townhouse, with three finished levels, a son and his family -- two girls, one of them angelically beautiful -- temporarily occupying the lower level. My wife's been out shopping for multiple families, putting up a tree, decorating the front yard, and cooking.

We had dinner at my brother-in-law's on Christmas Eve. He and his wife, Faye, entertained on that evening by tradition. She would make lasagna and have an enormous salad that never quite got finished, and one or two other dishes. We ate at the table for years, then buffet style as their son married and their daughter-in-law's father and his girlfriend (he's a widow) would fly in from Buffalo. Faye was diagnosed with stage four pancreatic cancer in September, a couple years ago, and she died close to Christmas that same year -- maybe on Christmas Day. I can't remember precisely, either because I'm getting old or because I'm trying to forget. The point is that it was a very pleasant little party. My wife did the cooking, with two lasagnas made from scratch (the best she's ever made, in fact), and an enormous salad we threw together out of bagged grocery store salads and store-bought dressing. I was expecting it to be maudlin, but I think I could hear Faye's laugh more than a few times.

I read Robert Neilson Stephens' Philip Winwood. It was the first book of Stephen's I've read, and I doubt it'll be the last. The setting is New York just prior to the time of the Revolutionary War. The plot's fairly simple: Philip the stray boy, taken in by Margaret, a little girl of his own age; her younger brother Tom; her sweet sister Fanny; and her older, ne'er do well brother Ned, all narrated by Bert, the boy next door. Margaret's stern patriot father takes the boy in, raises and educates him. Margaret's thing is that she wants to go to see the sights of England. She and Phil get married and at that point the Revolutionary War starts. She's a spoiled little creature and when Phil goes to join the rebels instead of sailing for England she turns on him. Little brother and boy next door join the Loyalists, so 'tis a tale told from both sides, with understanding and sympathy for both. The villain in the whole piece is Ned, not even actually Captain Falconer, who sullies Margaret's reputation, fights a duel with Tom -- the younger brother -- and kills him.

I can see where Sabatini picked up the mantle of writing adventure stories from Stephens. Much of the feel is the same. The main characters are nicely drawn. You can see their motivations, you can feel the friendship among them, you can feel sympathy for them. When Philip first appears he's carrying two suitcases and a kitten in a sack slung over his shoulder. Fanny could be a lot more developed -- Bert ends up marrying her, so you'd think he'd give her a bit more attention. I can see where Ned has to be a nasty fellow. The plot as constructed wouldn't work without him being the way he was, and God knows there are enough people in the world who follow the path of least resistance, whose empathy with others, even close family, stops at the inside of their own epidermis. Most aren't quite as overtly unpleasant as Ned.

Stephens presents both sides of the story of the Revolution, Philip and Mr. Fairingfield, Margaret's father, adhering to the rebels, Bert and Tom to the Loyalists. They don't hate each other and they remain friends. All do their duty as they see it. That keeps it interesting. Having all murderous villains on one side and all cleft-chinned, muscular heroes on the other would have made it boring. Even though the reader know how it's going to turn out (SPOILER: The rebels won) the reader wants to see how this particular drama plays out, feeling sympathy with all the characters but Ned and sometimes Margaret.

I believe reading Philip Winwood and Sabatini's The Carolinian back to back would present little difference in the quality of the writing. Philip is no Captain Blood, or Scaramouch, but he's of the same quality as The Lion's Skin or Bardelys the Magnificent, which is saying a lot.

As for my own productivity, I finished the chapter I was working on and  wrote a part of the next on Del of Kerao, but the ideas are tangled and my thoughts have been on other things, including the holidays and my health. I wrote the first chapter and most of a second on a new book, featuring a heroine with only one arm and one leg. I had to fight the temptation to simply write a romance based on Mary Dague.  I've made her a helicopter pilot, but that could change -- it's irrelevant to the rest of the story. She could be Quartermaster or Signal Corps, could even be a Personnel Officer. Quartermaster would probably be best, in fact. I've named her Cornelia Catherine Moriarty and her love interest will be named (probably) Quincy Holmes, just so I can make jokes about that and eventually have them start Moriarty & Holmes, Inc.

In the first chapter, which might just be a prologue, C. Catherine (she hates her first name) tells her husband she's getting a divorce after his fourth affair. The same thing happened to Mary, and she doesn't blame her husband; she was a burden, and their relationship had become more of a nurse-patient. A burden that's light when you assume it weighs more after a couple miles. If you've assumed it for a lifetime it can be really heavy. C. Catherine, single and at large, is trying hard not to any burden to anyone, to include her family. I look at what life is like for people with disabilities, following her through the abominable processes of taking a bath and going to the gym. With half the number of limbs she's got to be twice as strong and capable. I think one of the themes will be reliance and trust in others. C. Catherine (Quincy names her Nellie) is something of a hard ass, unwilling after her divorce to admit that sometimes she does need help. That's a problem lots of military people have, despite the emphasis on teamwork. "Suck it up" is the usual phrase, and it becomes a way of life. In the event of major problems, like loss of limb, it can lead to depression, so there's something for me to write about.