I started reading the book with some trepidation, because I couldn't help remembering my mixed experiences with historical fiction about famous painters. For example, I had always loved Vermeer's paintings until I read the historical novel Girl with a Pearl Earring by Tracy Chevalier, which made me wonder exactly what kind of man Vermeer really was. On the other hand, I liked the book Lydia Cassatt Reading the Morning Paper by Harriet Scott Chessman, which I thought gave me some insight into Mary Cassatt's life and also the world of the impressionists. My book group decided to read Luncheon of the Boating Party, though, so I decided to give it a chance, and I'm glad I did. I listened to it on CD, which gave me the advantage of hearing the correct pronunciation of French words and names. It had the disadvantage, however, that I kept getting the numerous characters confused. Also, I constantly wanted to look at the painting itself as it started to take shape in the narrative. I solved this problem by printing a copy of the Wikipedia article about the painting from the Internet, which included an image. So my suggestion is to have the book and the CD version both on hand for maximum clarity and enjoyment.

I found myself enthralled with the book. I felt like I was immersed in French life in 1880, during La Vie Moderne, an exciting time of social change.  We tend to think we are living in modern times and that all previous times were part of ancient history, but Vreeland managed to capture that time in history and make it feel immediate to me.

A historical novel like this one can be used as a starting point to exploring history and ideas through other nonfiction books and complementary experiences. At KCLS we have one of the books that Vreeland used to research her book: Impressionists on the Seine: A Celebration of Renoir's Luncheon of the Boating Party by Eliza E. Rathbone et al., which is a great source for more background information and pictures. 

Arturo Pérez-Reverte is one of my favorite authors, ever since I stumbled across The Fencing Master.  Although he has a number of excellent stand-alone titles, Pérez-Reverte is best known for his musketeer-like Captain Alatriste series.  One of Spain's (and Europe's) most popular authors, he writes in what I think of as a deliciously old world European style - hard to describe - patient and eloquent, but not at all slow.  I find his writing similar to Gabriel Garcia Marquez (without the magical realism).

Diego Alatriste, an inveterate gentleman soldier and veteran of the Flemish Wars (17th century), is willing to fight for God, country and gold, but mainly for gold.  In Captain Alatriste, the first book in the series, he has been hired to assassinate two British visitors.  Always reluctant to shed needless blood, he spares their lives, opening a hornet's nest and infuriating the Holy Inquisition.  Not good.

Pérez-Reverte's works are excellent historical fiction picks for adults and (I think) older teens. If swashbuckling isn't to your fancy, Pérez-Reverte writes some other dynamite thrillers and even a narco-saga that is surprisingly entertaining given the rough subject matter.

The Civil War is a good example--new books on Abraham Lincoln and the war seem to come out every month and still make the Best Sellers list.  The sinking of the Titanic is another event that still fascinates readers. One event about which I've read voraciously is the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire in 1911.

One hundred forty six workers died in a fire that was under control in less than an hour. Situated on the 8th, 9th and 10th floors of a new "skyscraper" in New York City, the Triangle Factory made ladies' shirtwaists which were all the rage at the time. Like the Titanic tragedy, there are many "if onlys" in the Triangle story that would have meant many lives being spared: proper fire escapes, doors that were not locked by factory bosses, fire hoses that actually worked, enforcement of the non-smoking rule.

In Margaret Peterson Haddix's book Uprising, she brings to life not only the facts of the story, but three young girls who lived them. Yetta from Russia and Bella from Italy both came to the US looking for a better life and hoping to save enough money to bring their families from their homelands.

Caught up in the workers' strike that predated the fire, Yetta and Bella befriend Jane, a lonely society girl who becomes involved in their crusade. Their friendship is a big part of the story, as is the plight of many other girls newly arrived in the States and held at the mercy of greedy factory owners.

Haddix, who is the author of the popular Shadow Children  series for kids and teens, has a talent for mixing history and fiction and the ability to write about tragedies like the Triangle fire without making them maudlin. Even though we know how these sad stories end, in the hands of a skilled author, they are worth the read.

Cheney is conflicted between her desire to be with Wright, and societal expectations placed upon her. Critics of their relationship were open in their distaste for her ethical decisions. Because she was the other woman, Cheney was vehemently accused of homewrecking, more so than Wright. Her narration reflects her guilt and eventual acceptance of her choices

This novel is part historical fiction, part biography, and reflects a dedication on Horan's part to research a relatively unknown part of Wright's romantic past. Beautifully written, Loving Frank exudes a graceful flow, introducing the reader to the beauty and complexity of their illicit affair.

Roseanne McNulty is 100 years old and has spent over half of her of life in the Roscommon Regional Mental Hospital when she begins the secret journal.  But the voice recalling many years full of turmoil and sorrow does not sound mad.   Her language is at once precise and lyrical, full of poetry, yet firmly grounded.  Her personal tragedy is gradually depicted against the backdrop of sectarian violence and a whole country in upheaval.

Roseanne's journal is interspersed with the commonplace book of Dr. Green, manager of the mental hospital. The institution is being downsized, and he must determine who should be given the freedom to return to the community. Though well meaning he is absorbed in his own sorrow, mourning first the failure of his marriage, then the death of his wife.    There are few records to help him evaluate Roseanne, and she is not particularly helpful to him.  

Dr. Green's search for clues as to why Roseanne was institutionalized finds a somewhat different history than the one the revealed in her journal raising many questions for the reader.  Was her father a member of the hated Irish police, or merely a grave digger?  How did he die?  If she was married, why did she tell Dr. Green he should address herby her maiden name?  Did she kill her only child at birth?  If not what happened to him?  And the big one - is she mad?

The quality of Barry's language and the vividness of Roseanne's story more than compensate for the occasionally awkward device of the two journals and slightly too pat ending.  The people in Roseanne's past; the stifling life of a small town contrasted to the wild openness of the sea; the eternal Irish rain all come alive on the page.  Curl up with this book before a toasty fire on a wet evening and you might not be sure whether the misty rain outside your window is coming in off Puget Sound or Sligo Bay.

Mehrunissa, whose name means "the Sun of Women," is born to Persian refugees in 1577 as they flee into the lands of the Mughal Empire.  Her birth marks a change in the fortunes of her family, and she is raised on the fringes of Emperor Akbar's court.  At the age of eight, Mehrunissa attends the festivities as the heir to the throne, Prince Salim, marries for the first time.  In that moment, she vows that she, too, will marry Salim and become a princess.  Several years later, Prince Salim is enthralled by teenaged Mehrunissa from the first time he sees her, just days before her marriage to another man.  Over the next decade and a half, Salim fights for his position in the empire as Mehrunissa endures a loveless marriage.  Finally, after years apart, Mehrunissa must decide if she will stand by her vow even if it means losing the man she has always wanted.

Much more than a simple love story, The Twentieth Wife, by local author Indu Sundaresan, is a fascinating look at the Mughal Empire during its height.  Spanning much of present-day India, Pakistan, Afghanistan and Bangladesh, the Empire had a profound influence on language, culture, government, architecture and cuisine.  Sundaresan combines meticulous research with vivid description, bringing the land and people to life.  The sounds, smells, and tastes of India come through on every page, while the descriptions of court life provide action and intrigue.  Even though the historically-based ending of the story is no surprise, Sundaresan's skill as a storyteller kept me enthralled and wondering what would happen next.  That little sadness that I feel at the end of a wonderful book was tempered by knowing that the tale of Salim and Mehrunissa is continued in The Feast of Roses.

Have you ever had a conflict with a neighbor?  Have you ever butted heads with your teenaged child?  Have you ever said a sharp word you wanted to take back once you said it?  What if doing any or all of these things could get you jailed for being a witch?

Kathleen Kent, author of The Heretic's Daughter, is the descendent of Martha Carrier, who in 1692 was arrested and accused of witchcraft for the very reasons listed above.   In an age when fear was enough to motivate friends and families to turn against each other, Martha's young daughter Sarah watches helplessly as her mother becomes the target of pointing fingers.  Left to help care for her father and young brothers and then ultimately jailed herself, Sarah's story mirrors her mother's until the final terrifying chapters of the story.

The Salem Witch Trials is not a new subject for historical fiction, but Kent's telling brings it to readers in a new way and manages to make the horror of it real and personal.   As the book opens, Sarah is an old woman writing a letter to her granddaughter about the events of almost sixty years earlier.  Her characters are real and recognizable, from the mean girls who torment Sarah when she comes to town to the kind reverend who visits the condemned prisoners.   She creates nobility in the imprisoned women who try to maintain their dignity in filthy conditions and cruelty in the sheriff's wife who trades extra rations for the prisoner's clothing.

When I told many of my friends that I was going to blog about Katherine by Anya Seton, they all sighed and said it was one of the best historical romances that they had ever read.  Yes, ALL of them sighed and said it was the best.  Why is it so "sighable?"  Katherine was a fourteenth century woman, born in 1350 to a poor family; at a young age she married Sir Hugh Swynford, a rather boorish extremely jealous man.  Because her sister married Geoffrey Chaucer and was part of the court of the Edward the III, Katherine caught the eye of the Duke of Lancaster, John of Gaunt.  After the Duchess of Lancaster's death, Katherine became the mistress of the Duke.  She was called a witch and a whore, but she was with the Duke, through his second marriage to Constance of Castile and after Constance's death, she became his third wife which caused a bigger scandal than when she was his mistress.  Katherine was at the center of the most turbulent times, and she was a strong woman who held the Duke's love and attention for more than twenty-five years.

Anya Seton brings the English medieval times to life, in all the filth, disease, superstition, royal pageantry, intrigue and of course Katherine's love story, mistress and wife to a Duke and the ancestress of Kings.

I read Katherine many years ago and had almost forgotten about it. But then I spied the Mistress of the Monarchy; The Life of Katherine Swynford, Duchess of Lancaster, by Alison Weir.  When I read the introduction and discovered that Alison Weir enjoyed reading Katherine and the book had a large impact upon her, I had to read it again. (Ms Setons's book that is, although I have read Alison Weir's introduction more than once too).  Ms Weir states that she wanted to write Katherine Swynford's biography for forty years. Although Ms Weir enjoyed Anya Seton's book, she said, "Do not forget it is fiction."  Anya Seton wrote accurately but from a twentieth century perspective; this does not lessen the quality of the story, but it might change your vision of Katherine.   I suggest you read Katherine first and then read Mistress of the Monarchy, because sometimes the facts could lessen the impact of this classic romance.  On the other hand why should the facts bother you when you are reading a great love story?