| This blog fell silent for four months, much longer than I intended, what with one thing and another. But I intend to continue my exploration of novels of the long 18th century and discuss them in terms of Austen's genius. This blog explores social attitudes in Jane Austen's time, discusses her novels, reviews forgotten 18th century novels, and throws some occasional shade at the modern academy. The introductory post is here. My "six simple questions for academics" post is here. |
Fair heroines and feckless heroes: Maria, a novel (1785) by Elizabeth Blower
Hugh Grant as Edward Ferrars in the 1995 movie What makes a hero? You’ll find lots of modern readers putting down Austen heroes—Edmund Bertram of Mansfield Park tops the list of disliked heroes, followed by Edward Ferrars of Sense and Sensibility. Edmund is clueless and Edward is feckless. Mr. Knightley of Emma and Henry Tilney of Northanger Abbey are mansplainers. Persuasion’s Captain Wentworth flirts with the Musgrove girls in front of Anne Elliot, and don’t tell me he doesn’t know what he’s doing. Mr. Darcy of Pride and Prejudice usually escapes unscathed, unless you fault him for being a wealthy landowner in a nation where so many were desperately poor.
Well, at this blog we look at Jane Austen’s novels in context, not only in the context of her times but in the context of the novels of her times. And I can report that there are many un-heroic heroes in these novels. Their chief failing is how readily they believe any malicious gossip attacking the heroine's reputation. In other cases, as with Edward Ferrars, they are trapped in circumstances arguably beyond their control. Although he should have mentioned he was engaged. See what you think of the hero of Maria, a 1785 novel by Elizabeth Blower...
Well, at this blog we look at Jane Austen’s novels in context, not only in the context of her times but in the context of the novels of her times. And I can report that there are many un-heroic heroes in these novels. Their chief failing is how readily they believe any malicious gossip attacking the heroine's reputation. In other cases, as with Edward Ferrars, they are trapped in circumstances arguably beyond their control. Although he should have mentioned he was engaged. See what you think of the hero of Maria, a 1785 novel by Elizabeth Blower...
Orphaned and semi-orphaned heroines
Maria follows the path laid out by Fanny Burney in Evelina (1778) and features not one but two beautiful, well-educated but poor girls from good families. Their suitors are handsome, nobly-born and wealthy. But of course our lovebirds can’t marry until certain obstacles are cleared away. What do the heroes do to clear away the obstacles? Nothing, really. They basically have no agency within the strict social norms of their time.
The behaviour of Maria’s “hero”—yes, I am breaking out the sneer quotes—I find rather repulsive. Maria’s physician father befriends Mr. Aubrey and he becomes a regular visitor to their home. Though he is often melancholy, he is attractive and well-informed, and he and Maria love the same music and the same poetry. When she is caught in a crowd leaving the theatre, Aubrey sweeps her up in his arms and rescues her. The next day, he cuts a lock of her hair while she is half-asleep on the sofa. All very promising, but then Maria learns from the servants that he is a married man. When he was young, he ran up gambling debts and was forced into marriage to an elderly heiress by his father. The wealthy spinster fell in love with Aubrey and “though she’s vastly ugly, and old, and disagreeable [servant Jane explains], the family persuaded him to marry her, for she was in such a bad state of health that they did not expect her to live long.”
After taking his marriage vows, Aubrey doesn’t live with his wife, nor, it appears, communicate with her at all. The Aubreys just took the money and ran. But that’s me editorializing. For the author, the only moral lessons arising out of this situation is that girls should scold their servants for impertinent gossip, and Maria must hide her love for Aubrey. As it happens, Aubrey calls on the family to take his leave—he must go away—he doesn’t explain where or why, leaving Maria with a broken heart.
Maria follows the path laid out by Fanny Burney in Evelina (1778) and features not one but two beautiful, well-educated but poor girls from good families. Their suitors are handsome, nobly-born and wealthy. But of course our lovebirds can’t marry until certain obstacles are cleared away. What do the heroes do to clear away the obstacles? Nothing, really. They basically have no agency within the strict social norms of their time.
The behaviour of Maria’s “hero”—yes, I am breaking out the sneer quotes—I find rather repulsive. Maria’s physician father befriends Mr. Aubrey and he becomes a regular visitor to their home. Though he is often melancholy, he is attractive and well-informed, and he and Maria love the same music and the same poetry. When she is caught in a crowd leaving the theatre, Aubrey sweeps her up in his arms and rescues her. The next day, he cuts a lock of her hair while she is half-asleep on the sofa. All very promising, but then Maria learns from the servants that he is a married man. When he was young, he ran up gambling debts and was forced into marriage to an elderly heiress by his father. The wealthy spinster fell in love with Aubrey and “though she’s vastly ugly, and old, and disagreeable [servant Jane explains], the family persuaded him to marry her, for she was in such a bad state of health that they did not expect her to live long.”
After taking his marriage vows, Aubrey doesn’t live with his wife, nor, it appears, communicate with her at all. The Aubreys just took the money and ran. But that’s me editorializing. For the author, the only moral lessons arising out of this situation is that girls should scold their servants for impertinent gossip, and Maria must hide her love for Aubrey. As it happens, Aubrey calls on the family to take his leave—he must go away—he doesn’t explain where or why, leaving Maria with a broken heart.
Georgian tea time The turn of fortune's wheel
A year later, Maria’s father loses all his money and dies, Maria’s mother dies of grief, and Maria is reduced to working as a governess. The husband of the house is a lecher--probably a problem frequently experienced by heroines in real life. Maria is lucky to escape from her situation when Dr. Edgeware, an old family friend, looks her up and offers her a home with himself and his widowed sister. There she is free from being sexually harassed but she has to listen to the irritating widowed sister, who is one of a gallery of comically objectionable characters who populate this type of novel.
Dr. Edgeware takes Maria to meet his friend Lady Melmoth and her companion Emilia Hampden, described approvingly as “a lady of literature.” In fact, she can read and translate Latin, and no-one ridicules her for it. Maria immediately takes to Lady Melmoth and Emilia, and vice versa.
The authoress of this story is least successful when attempting to portray a group of people engaged in genteel conversation. For example, after a guest complains about the ingratitude of people she has assisted, Maria observes: “What an affecting instance of the depravity of human nature. But disappointments of this kind will never deter a liberal mind from seeking occasions to render services. There is a pleasure of the highest and noblest kind annexed to the performance of a generous action; a pleasure which the gratitude of the objects obliged may somewhat increase, but which their ingratitude can never destroy.”
A year later, Maria’s father loses all his money and dies, Maria’s mother dies of grief, and Maria is reduced to working as a governess. The husband of the house is a lecher--probably a problem frequently experienced by heroines in real life. Maria is lucky to escape from her situation when Dr. Edgeware, an old family friend, looks her up and offers her a home with himself and his widowed sister. There she is free from being sexually harassed but she has to listen to the irritating widowed sister, who is one of a gallery of comically objectionable characters who populate this type of novel.
Dr. Edgeware takes Maria to meet his friend Lady Melmoth and her companion Emilia Hampden, described approvingly as “a lady of literature.” In fact, she can read and translate Latin, and no-one ridicules her for it. Maria immediately takes to Lady Melmoth and Emilia, and vice versa.
The authoress of this story is least successful when attempting to portray a group of people engaged in genteel conversation. For example, after a guest complains about the ingratitude of people she has assisted, Maria observes: “What an affecting instance of the depravity of human nature. But disappointments of this kind will never deter a liberal mind from seeking occasions to render services. There is a pleasure of the highest and noblest kind annexed to the performance of a generous action; a pleasure which the gratitude of the objects obliged may somewhat increase, but which their ingratitude can never destroy.”
The auburn-haired Maria confesses her love for Aubrey Confessions of love
After a few more sententious and skim-worthy speeches, Lady Melmoth invites Maria to join her and Emilia for a stay at her country seat, Castle Dunlough, a setting which promises gothic excitement. But the gothic chills, as usual, turn out to be false alarms. A roving night spectre is a wandering servant, a bleeding cadaver is a painting, etc. Spying a white figure in the garden, Maria realizes that it is a statue of Aubrey! In an unguarded moment, she kisses the statue and confesses her love for the original—who just happens to be entering stage right. Turns out he’s Lady Melmoth’s younger brother! Incidentally, Lady Melmoth was also forced into a loveless marriage but now she’s got the money and the castle.
Aubrey and his friend Lord Newry from Ireland settle in for a visit. Newry is a raconteur and a flirt who gets handsy with Maria and Emilia but they both can see that he is a cad with one thing on his mind.
We learn that Aubrey’s elderly wife is ill in Bath. It seems he never goes near her, and when he learns she was involved in some kind of accident, he takes no interest whatsoever.
Emilia and Maria share a bedroom. Late one night Emilia tells her backstory, which takes up at least a third of the novel. Like Maria, she is from a good family with a good education. Since the early death of her mother, she’s been the guest of wealthy family friends, Mr. and Mrs. G_____. Mr. G_____ dies, and Mrs. G_____’s nephew comes to visit. He just happens to be young, handsome, and the second son of a lord. Maria and Lord Henry fall in love. He proposes by letter, but she, after much struggle with herself, refuses him because she too far beneath him socially and has no fortune. But when Mrs. G_____ hears of the romance through a family servant, Maria is blamed for inveigling him. Mrs. G_____ throws her out, and she has no choice but to go home to her dad, who has come down considerably in the world since losing his government position.
It looks like Emilia, like Maria before her, must turn to earning a living. Dad loves the theatre and so he urges her to write a play. She doesn’t, but the theatre is a recurring topic in this novel, as I note below. At her lowest ebb, with dad in debtor's prison and after turning down an unwanted marriage proposal, Emilia is taken up by Lady Melmouth.
We return from the extended flashback to morning at Castle Dunlough.
After a few more sententious and skim-worthy speeches, Lady Melmoth invites Maria to join her and Emilia for a stay at her country seat, Castle Dunlough, a setting which promises gothic excitement. But the gothic chills, as usual, turn out to be false alarms. A roving night spectre is a wandering servant, a bleeding cadaver is a painting, etc. Spying a white figure in the garden, Maria realizes that it is a statue of Aubrey! In an unguarded moment, she kisses the statue and confesses her love for the original—who just happens to be entering stage right. Turns out he’s Lady Melmoth’s younger brother! Incidentally, Lady Melmoth was also forced into a loveless marriage but now she’s got the money and the castle.
Aubrey and his friend Lord Newry from Ireland settle in for a visit. Newry is a raconteur and a flirt who gets handsy with Maria and Emilia but they both can see that he is a cad with one thing on his mind.
We learn that Aubrey’s elderly wife is ill in Bath. It seems he never goes near her, and when he learns she was involved in some kind of accident, he takes no interest whatsoever.
Emilia and Maria share a bedroom. Late one night Emilia tells her backstory, which takes up at least a third of the novel. Like Maria, she is from a good family with a good education. Since the early death of her mother, she’s been the guest of wealthy family friends, Mr. and Mrs. G_____. Mr. G_____ dies, and Mrs. G_____’s nephew comes to visit. He just happens to be young, handsome, and the second son of a lord. Maria and Lord Henry fall in love. He proposes by letter, but she, after much struggle with herself, refuses him because she too far beneath him socially and has no fortune. But when Mrs. G_____ hears of the romance through a family servant, Maria is blamed for inveigling him. Mrs. G_____ throws her out, and she has no choice but to go home to her dad, who has come down considerably in the world since losing his government position.
It looks like Emilia, like Maria before her, must turn to earning a living. Dad loves the theatre and so he urges her to write a play. She doesn’t, but the theatre is a recurring topic in this novel, as I note below. At her lowest ebb, with dad in debtor's prison and after turning down an unwanted marriage proposal, Emilia is taken up by Lady Melmouth.
We return from the extended flashback to morning at Castle Dunlough.
Longleat Hedge Maze, photo by Niki Odolphie from Frome, England More complications before our HEA
Lord Newry corners Maria in the castle hedge maze and propositions her: “I detest the ungenerous, sordid fetters of marriage—but accept my ardent love, and you may command my life, my soul, my fortune as your own.” She of course refuses and he starts to sexually assault her when Aubrey shows up. This leads directly to a duel. Newry runs away, Aubrey is wounded. Now Lady Melmoth has a seriously wounded brother to nurse. One thing I’ve learned in reading these old novels is that when you take a beautiful and dependent heroine into your house, you are just asking for trouble: “The delicate frame of Maria, overcome with the terrors and conflicts to which this day of calamity had subjected her, was seized on the evening with a fever, which, before morning, had risen to so great a height, than an actual delirium bewildered her faculties; and her life became doubtful for several days.”
Maria recovers just as Emilia receives wonderful news: her benefactress Mrs. G_____ has learned that she, Emilia, had in fact behaved honourably in rejecting Lord Henry. Lord Henry is now of age, and he rushes to the castle to propose to Emilia. Unlike in Austen, we are given the heroine’s acceptance in her own words: “The reserve, my Lord, I formerly imposed upon myself, I now disclaim. You have arrived at an age, when your own inclinations, if founded on virtue, have a right to supersede parental authority. I have no friend but what would rejoice in my acceptance of your generous offer. My earliest friend, my kind benefactress, [Mrs. G_____] even solicits me to accept it. Thus sanctioned, let me frankly confess,--I feel the most lively sensibility to your lordship’s merits; and, if it is in my power to contribute to your happiness, it will ever be my pleasure, my pride, and my glory to do so.”
Lord Newry corners Maria in the castle hedge maze and propositions her: “I detest the ungenerous, sordid fetters of marriage—but accept my ardent love, and you may command my life, my soul, my fortune as your own.” She of course refuses and he starts to sexually assault her when Aubrey shows up. This leads directly to a duel. Newry runs away, Aubrey is wounded. Now Lady Melmoth has a seriously wounded brother to nurse. One thing I’ve learned in reading these old novels is that when you take a beautiful and dependent heroine into your house, you are just asking for trouble: “The delicate frame of Maria, overcome with the terrors and conflicts to which this day of calamity had subjected her, was seized on the evening with a fever, which, before morning, had risen to so great a height, than an actual delirium bewildered her faculties; and her life became doubtful for several days.”
Maria recovers just as Emilia receives wonderful news: her benefactress Mrs. G_____ has learned that she, Emilia, had in fact behaved honourably in rejecting Lord Henry. Lord Henry is now of age, and he rushes to the castle to propose to Emilia. Unlike in Austen, we are given the heroine’s acceptance in her own words: “The reserve, my Lord, I formerly imposed upon myself, I now disclaim. You have arrived at an age, when your own inclinations, if founded on virtue, have a right to supersede parental authority. I have no friend but what would rejoice in my acceptance of your generous offer. My earliest friend, my kind benefactress, [Mrs. G_____] even solicits me to accept it. Thus sanctioned, let me frankly confess,--I feel the most lively sensibility to your lordship’s merits; and, if it is in my power to contribute to your happiness, it will ever be my pleasure, my pride, and my glory to do so.”
Bing AI image More impediments--spoilers follow
A happy ending for Emilia, but what about Maria and Aubrey? They are both convalescing and getting back on their feet when word arrives that Mrs. Aubrey has died in Bath. Aubrey doesn’t order mourning. He plans to propose marriage to Maria.
But before he can, she receives a note asking her to meet a mysterious woman in a nearby respectable farmhouse. Maria goes there and finds a young woman, claiming to be Aubrey’s mistress, and their little love child. Tearfully, Maria agrees that this woman has the prior claim on Aubrey and she laments that she was deceived as to his character. Luckily, she escapes Castle Dunlough by accepting an invitation to stay with a relative, Lady Davenhill. (Her father was estranged from his noble and wealthy family when he married beneath him but Lady Melmoth has helped to heal the breach.)
Maria has hopped from her governess post to Dr. Edgeware’s house to Lady Melmoth’s castle, rising in society and luxury with every step, and now she quickly bids adieu to Lady Melmoth to go with Lady Davenhill to London (that’s me editorializing again), where they plan to shut their door to Aubrey. Maria had promised to not tell Aubrey she knows about the mistress because then Aubrey would be angry at the mistress when he ought to marry her.
You probably guessed that this state of affairs was caused by malicious deceit. It was actually Lord Newry’s mistress who caused trouble for Aubrey and Maria, abetted by a servant who stole a miniature portrait of Aubrey from Lady Melmoth. When this is all cleared up, and Lord Newry clears out of England, our hero and heroine can get married.
A happy ending for Emilia, but what about Maria and Aubrey? They are both convalescing and getting back on their feet when word arrives that Mrs. Aubrey has died in Bath. Aubrey doesn’t order mourning. He plans to propose marriage to Maria.
But before he can, she receives a note asking her to meet a mysterious woman in a nearby respectable farmhouse. Maria goes there and finds a young woman, claiming to be Aubrey’s mistress, and their little love child. Tearfully, Maria agrees that this woman has the prior claim on Aubrey and she laments that she was deceived as to his character. Luckily, she escapes Castle Dunlough by accepting an invitation to stay with a relative, Lady Davenhill. (Her father was estranged from his noble and wealthy family when he married beneath him but Lady Melmoth has helped to heal the breach.)
Maria has hopped from her governess post to Dr. Edgeware’s house to Lady Melmoth’s castle, rising in society and luxury with every step, and now she quickly bids adieu to Lady Melmoth to go with Lady Davenhill to London (that’s me editorializing again), where they plan to shut their door to Aubrey. Maria had promised to not tell Aubrey she knows about the mistress because then Aubrey would be angry at the mistress when he ought to marry her.
You probably guessed that this state of affairs was caused by malicious deceit. It was actually Lord Newry’s mistress who caused trouble for Aubrey and Maria, abetted by a servant who stole a miniature portrait of Aubrey from Lady Melmoth. When this is all cleared up, and Lord Newry clears out of England, our hero and heroine can get married.
So to recap the actions of our heroes: you already know how I feel about Aubrey’s mercenary marriage. His duel with Lord Newry only made a bad situation worse, of course. He spends most of the novel moping about and cursing his fate. Lord Henry, the lover of Emilia, is a nice young man. But if you expect your heroes to be more than victims of circumstance who prevail in the end only because of lucky twists of fate, you will be disappointed in the average 18th century hero. Darcy is the exception.
Elizabeth Pope (nee Younge (1740 -1797) in a tragic attitude Other features of note:
How to refuse a proposal:
“I thank you for your expressions of esteem and admiration, Mr. Railton; but I feel no inclination at present to change my situation; and, therefore, should be obliged to you to importune me no further on this head, as no solicitations will at all alter my sentiments.”
Servants:
Unlike Austen’s novels, where servants are far in the background most of the time, servants are key in this novel is conveying important information, and in causing trouble for the two pairs of lovers.
The theatre:
There is a lot of talk about the theatre. Emilia drops a compliment to the playwright William Hayley (1745 –1820) for his play Marcella, “in which the author has emulated, with classical spirit and true poetic enthusiasm, the melting pathos and the sublime horrors of the Greek drama.” Another character throws in the observation that the figure of a British Tar is always applauded in any play, so long as he “let[s] off about the glory of the English NAVY… the honour of old England,--excellence of English roast beef… and the beauty and virtue of English women.” Another character runs back to her house to get a third handkerchief before heading out to the theatre. And out of nowhere, we get four pages devoted to praising the tragic actress “Miss Younge” in the role of Andromache in “The Distressed Mother.”
Slavery and Empire:
Maria’s father dies after he travels to the West Indies to help deal with an epidemic. He takes all his money with him, planning to invest in some property. But dad and the money are lost. No intimation in this novel that slavery and plantations are wrong. Maria’s brother is mentioned but plays no part in the novel. We are told he is a “writer” (that is, a clerk), for the East India Company. Again, a device for keeping a character offstage and out of the action. However, the philanthropist and abolitionist Josiah Wedgewood was a subscriber to this novel.
How to refuse a proposal:
“I thank you for your expressions of esteem and admiration, Mr. Railton; but I feel no inclination at present to change my situation; and, therefore, should be obliged to you to importune me no further on this head, as no solicitations will at all alter my sentiments.”
Servants:
Unlike Austen’s novels, where servants are far in the background most of the time, servants are key in this novel is conveying important information, and in causing trouble for the two pairs of lovers.
The theatre:
There is a lot of talk about the theatre. Emilia drops a compliment to the playwright William Hayley (1745 –1820) for his play Marcella, “in which the author has emulated, with classical spirit and true poetic enthusiasm, the melting pathos and the sublime horrors of the Greek drama.” Another character throws in the observation that the figure of a British Tar is always applauded in any play, so long as he “let[s] off about the glory of the English NAVY… the honour of old England,--excellence of English roast beef… and the beauty and virtue of English women.” Another character runs back to her house to get a third handkerchief before heading out to the theatre. And out of nowhere, we get four pages devoted to praising the tragic actress “Miss Younge” in the role of Andromache in “The Distressed Mother.”
Slavery and Empire:
Maria’s father dies after he travels to the West Indies to help deal with an epidemic. He takes all his money with him, planning to invest in some property. But dad and the money are lost. No intimation in this novel that slavery and plantations are wrong. Maria’s brother is mentioned but plays no part in the novel. We are told he is a “writer” (that is, a clerk), for the East India Company. Again, a device for keeping a character offstage and out of the action. However, the philanthropist and abolitionist Josiah Wedgewood was a subscriber to this novel.
Contemporary Review
The New Ladies Magazine declared that Maria was “A pleasing and elegant little trifle, neither confused by character, or overloaded with incident; the few which are introduced are strongly drawn, and ably supported. The dialogue is both humourous and pathetic. The English Review gave reserved praise: “The intention of this Novel is to inculcate the principle of active benevolence; and from its moral tendency, it may be useful. In its execution it is not altogether defective.” Nothing about Aubrey's fortune-hunting first marriage.
Active benevolence features in this novel through the generous actions of the wealthy Mr. and Mrs. G_____, the compassionate Dr. Edgeware, Lady Melroth (Aubrey’s sister) and Lady Davenhill (Maria's relative) who all go out of their way to help Maria and Emilia. Emilia herself comes to the add of some young girls who are being dunned for a bill they owe. The French translation of this novel includes an author's preface with the usual disclaimer that her intention is to inspire a horror of vice, while the heroines and their "amis" provide lessons of virtue.
The New Ladies Magazine declared that Maria was “A pleasing and elegant little trifle, neither confused by character, or overloaded with incident; the few which are introduced are strongly drawn, and ably supported. The dialogue is both humourous and pathetic. The English Review gave reserved praise: “The intention of this Novel is to inculcate the principle of active benevolence; and from its moral tendency, it may be useful. In its execution it is not altogether defective.” Nothing about Aubrey's fortune-hunting first marriage.
Active benevolence features in this novel through the generous actions of the wealthy Mr. and Mrs. G_____, the compassionate Dr. Edgeware, Lady Melroth (Aubrey’s sister) and Lady Davenhill (Maria's relative) who all go out of their way to help Maria and Emilia. Emilia herself comes to the add of some young girls who are being dunned for a bill they owe. The French translation of this novel includes an author's preface with the usual disclaimer that her intention is to inspire a horror of vice, while the heroines and their "amis" provide lessons of virtue.
About Elizabeth Blower (active between 1780-1788)
Elizabeth Blower wrote her first novel when she was 17 years old. The invaluable Feminist Companion to Literature in English notes that Blower included scenes of political scenes and campaign violence in her second novel George Bateman (1782), and that she was born in Worcester, "a town notorious for election violence." As well, the authors of A Biographical Dictionary of Actors, Actresses, Musicians, Dancers, Managers and Other Stage Personnel in London, 1660-1800 have researched her brief acting career spanning (1782-1788). The theatre scenes in Maria likewise are no doubt drawn from her years as an actress. Perhaps she was even once in such dire circumstances that she contemplated suicide, as Emilia does. Otherwise we have little biographical data on Elizabeth Blower.
Maria might be of interest to scholars researching the Georgian theatre scene, but otherwise I think I read it so you don't have to. While Blower includes half-a-dozen comic characters in her novel, she doesn’t have Austen’s gift for bringing them to life, and the stilted pronouncements of Maria and Dr. Edgeware sound unnatural.
Previous post: Wrap-up of Rosella
Elizabeth Blower wrote her first novel when she was 17 years old. The invaluable Feminist Companion to Literature in English notes that Blower included scenes of political scenes and campaign violence in her second novel George Bateman (1782), and that she was born in Worcester, "a town notorious for election violence." As well, the authors of A Biographical Dictionary of Actors, Actresses, Musicians, Dancers, Managers and Other Stage Personnel in London, 1660-1800 have researched her brief acting career spanning (1782-1788). The theatre scenes in Maria likewise are no doubt drawn from her years as an actress. Perhaps she was even once in such dire circumstances that she contemplated suicide, as Emilia does. Otherwise we have little biographical data on Elizabeth Blower.
Maria might be of interest to scholars researching the Georgian theatre scene, but otherwise I think I read it so you don't have to. While Blower includes half-a-dozen comic characters in her novel, she doesn’t have Austen’s gift for bringing them to life, and the stilted pronouncements of Maria and Dr. Edgeware sound unnatural.
Previous post: Wrap-up of Rosella
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