In analysing a book you loved, do you ever find yourself dwelling more on the issues you encountered than on the joys? I find this happens sometimes with books I either admire or find dreadful. Passion stimulates the thought processes. And good literature can stand up to criticism without losing any of its power.
1857. After surviving the shipwreck that claimed her parents, newly arrived painter Emmaline Martin finds she does not fit in with her fiancé’s set in Delhi, India. As violence erupts and Indians rebel against the small British ruling elite, the only person who can help Emma to safety is a man whose mixed heritage straddles both worlds. The same man who stands between the ambitions of Emma’s fiancé and the dukedom of Auburn.
The main frustration I experienced with Meredith Duran's strong debut novel, The Duke Of Shadows, is that only its first half is set in India. In the middle of a desperate cliffhanger the story I had invested in drops everything only to reassemble itself in a new locale with new actors – and with a ‘Big Misunderstanding’ plot. It made my reading experience schizophrenic and required me to reset my emotional compass.
One might argue this is a useful ploy as it makes the reader tune in to the cultural jolt the hero and heroine feel as they move from India to England and get to know each other’s home territories. It did not work for me. If I had not been so thoroughly taken with the hero and heroine and with Duran’s smooth, intelligent prose, the book would certainly not have recovered the high opinion the Indian section had earned from me.
The contrast between British colonialism and rising Indian nationalism lends immediate urgency, and in this climate the story positively vibrates with energy. When it moves to the drawing rooms and brothels of England, it can't help but tread beaten paths and in the process its uniqueness thins.
What also annoyed me is that because of the abrupt change of scene, the 1857 rebellion becomes little more than a device to catapult the hero and heroine into each other’s arms. Once that is achieved, the plotline is all but abandoned, and so we don’t get to see the outcome of a traumatic, nationwide conflict that had huge ramifications both for India and for Britain.
So why did The Duke Of Shadows leap onto the list of my all-time favourite historical romances?
The automatic Western, novelistic association when reading about the Indian events of 1857 is probably to M.M. Kaye's Shadow Of The Moon*. The latter's epic scope allows for historical detail that the shortened page count of today's romances can't rival, but Duran's choice to focus on the emotional and psychological effects of the horrors on her characters is effective.
In fact, my complaints pale into mere quibbles when compared with the merits of this novel. I have mentioned the literate prose, which I think is on par with that of any commercial novelist I can think of. It will be very interesting to see where it leads her as her talents grow and develop. Her other major strength is intelligent characterization.
Julian is a marvellous hero. He tries to prevent the coming bloodshed and, when the authorities refuse to listen, uncomplaingly does what he can to save those he cares about. He loves deeply and unreservedly, and no matter what Emma throws at him in the second half of the novel he treats her with compassion and patience. This is a mature, reasonable adult, scarred by his own history but capable of handling his problems without unduly blaming others. (Despite a few derogatory comments by unsavoury characters and the rejection of him by most of his Indian relatives, Julian’s Eurasian blood does not noticeably hinder his success in society back in England. Of course, class, race, or ethnicity are hardly ever (never?) insurmountable problems in romances, but in this instance I do wish the author had invoked her cliché-radar and not glossed over quite so much. Being Eurasian was, even in the mid-twentieth century, something which could get you killed. I hope to return to this subject in a later post.)
The portrayal of Emma is nuanced, making her an interesting character whose emotional fragility has her teetering on the brink of hysterical collapse for much of the story. Sometimes this edged into slightly melodramatic territory for me. The gradual emergence of her inner resilience for a while steers her into obdurate refusal to deal with difficult truths, but what saves her from becoming a self-made martyr is the sensitively handled liberation of her fearfully repressed passions.
Last but obviously not least, Meredith Duran breathes authenticity into the landscape of India and its people: her language is illuminating and evocative. The descriptions fit naturally within the flow of the story, conjure vivid scents and sounds, and add meaning. The armchair traveller in me was wholly immersed in her India, which leads me to my conclusion:
I count The Duke Of Shadows among the most emotionally satisfying and uplifting romances I have read. A testament to how much I appreciated the writing is that for the first time ever in my years of romance reading I did not skip or skim the love scenes. I did not want to miss a word. I have since re-read the book as well as purchased and read every other novel by the author.
(Pocket Star Books, 2008, p.138-9):
"Early the next morning, they drew up before a rocky plateau that burst vertically upward from the plain. Geologically, it seemed so unlikely as to have been dropped there by some wandering giant. A honeycomb of dwellings clung to the bottom slopes of the tableland, whitewashed walls gleaming in the sun.
'Sapnagar** village,' Emma guessed.
She was riding pillion on Julian's horse; hers had drawn up lame, and was on lead behind them. Julian caught her hand where it sat at the front of his waist. 'Fort,' he corrected, rubbing a thumb over her palm. 'Look again at the plateau.'
All morning he had touched her like this, casually and constantly. She felt slightly drunk from it; laughter came up in her throat for no reason. She shaded her eyes with her free hand and squinted through the haze. 'Good Lord! Those are walls at the top, aren't they? They're carved out of the mountain!'
'The fort hasn't been taken in two centuries. And the Maharajah is an old friend of mine. It's the safest place I can imagine.'"
*Nightrunners Of Bengal by John Masters appears to have been a bestseller in its time, but I have not come across many current mentions about it (nor have I read it myself).
**In a 2008 interview at Ann Aguirre’s website Duran explains, ”the description of the fortress at Sapnagar is a composite of Mehrangarh Fort, Amber Fort, and the City Palace in Udaipur, all of which I’ve visited several times”.
A film of related interest: The Rising: Ballad Of Mangal Pandey. I loved the colourfulness of this movie with its opulent sets and rousing dance and song sequences. The events of the rebellion are shown from the Indian viewpoint, and the production mixes Indian and British actors. The story is told primarily through the eyes of Mangal Pandey (portrayed with passionate fervour by Aamir Khan) - an important historical character - his friend, a British officer (played by Toby Stephens, whom some may recognize as Rochester from a 2006 BBC production of Jane Eyre), and their two loves. I found Captain Gordon’s romance rather stilted despite its sweetness, but this did not detract from my appreciation of the film. Whether you’re a history buff, a romantic, an armchair traveller, or simply looking for vibrant entertainment, I heartily recommend The Rising.
