Saturday, April 3, 2010

100% Pure Betty

Betty Michele sent us an email about Dearest Eulalia--why wasn't it on the list of Betty Books? Well, we'd overlooked it as it was hidden away in a compilation. Betty Debbie was sure she'd read it and was doubly sure that she owned it. But since she is here with me in Portland and away from her book stash in Seattle we'd have to have help remembering which one it was. Enter Doctor van der Stevejinck. Betty Debbie's husband wasn't too proud to read off the back of the book blurb over the phone and then, when that failed to sufficiently jog our memories, to read the opening paragraph.
But that got us thinking about those fabulous sentences that come before the main blurb. If the novel is a field of barley and the blurb is a Jägermeister then the sentence is 100 percent Pure Grain Alcohol--a Betty Book distilled to its most potent and elemental point.

To that end I offer a few (in a continuing series) of back cover distillations:


What was the truth about Penny?--Cobweb Morning (Boy, I don't know, but do I ever want to find out!)

Love and then hate. It was a seesaw
.--Grasp a Nettle (But it isn't called Grasp a Seesaw. I must read further...)

So near...yet so far...--Only By Chance (It was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, it was the best of times it was the worst of times...)

I don't want my life disturbed.
--Caroline's Waterloo (What could be so disturbing about a mousy staff nurse? I'm sure she'll sit there quietly and you won't notice a thing.)

Were Dutch doctors always so arrogant?--The Course of True Love (Yes they are, dear heart.)

Friday, April 2, 2010

Cover Art Contest

We're going to be reviewing The Moon for Lavinia sometime this month, so I thought this might be a good time for another cover art contest.

Here's the challenge: Make up a fun caption to go with the picture. The reward? Your very own Neels book - from our treasure trove.

I'll start:

"Lavinia tried to act nonchalant as she walked down the lane by the canal. She hoped no one would notice that she had super-glued her hand to the picture of Dr. Dutch van der Blondehunjk."

Leave your submission in the comments section or email it to us and I'll post it for you. We'll take entries up until Thursday, April 8th by midnight-ish (like I'm staying up for that!) and then we will let y'all weigh in on your faves (final choice to be made by The Grand Poobah Arbiters of Everything, natch).

Betty Miranda talks about Neels.

As a recent college graduate with my first job in London (not as a nurse or a down-trodden companion) I used to sneak into a used paperback store on my way home from work to stock up on Mills & Boon romances. I remember Mary Burchell and Anne Weale among the English writers. And fascinating American stories about eighteen year old girls marrying men old enough to be their fathers. These American heroines tended to wear pumps, which I knew as ballet shoes without toe blocks but I gathered were what we called “slip-ons.”

One day I picked up my first Betty Neels, a story about an English nurse and a Dutch doctor. I enjoyed it, so I looked for the author and found some more. And they were all about English nurses and Dutch doctors. I hadn’t previously come across the phenomenon of writing very similar books over and over again. Yet despite the lack of variety in Neels’ plots, I found them oddly compelling.

Fast forward many years. I moved to another country, married, raised a daughter, had several careers, and became a writer of historical romance. Cruising the romance section of Borders one day, a name caught my eye. Could this really be the same Betty Neels? I picked up the Harlequin book and flipped it over: English nurse, Dutch doctor. Yup. Same Betty.

I cannot claim to be as Betty-obsessed as the owners of this blog, or to have such a wide knowledge of the Betty canon. But I read a few of her books in recent years and stumbling on The Uncrushable Jersey Dress led me to learn more about La Neels.

What struck me most was that she only started writing in the late nineteen-sixties and her last book came out in the twenty-first century. Yet even in the seventies, when I first read her, she was old-fashioned. She described an England already long gone--if indeed it ever existed--and continued to do so. I see the World of Neels as akin to a parallel universe in a sci-fi novel, recognizable yet slightly askew.

Some random observations, questions, discussion points. Feel free to shoot me down if the texts prove me wrong:

• Does our heroine ever have dinner with Mijnheer Doctor? As far as I can see most of their encounters are over lunch or tea. My first thought was that dinner is a dangerous meal taking place far too close to bedtime with raffish overtones of Brighton. On the other hand, our heroine does dine with the balding man she isn’t going to marry. Presumably because he’s too wimpy to even think of Brighton. But my interpretation may be cynical and unBettylike. There’s the less sensational explanation that it’s a plot device. If the Dutch Doctor actually asked our heroine out to dinner it would be a real date. He would have to acknowledge his feeling and even she couldn’t be dull/modest enough to think him wholly indifferent. Dawning realizations and misunderstood intentions ruined.

• Betty’s characters mostly live in London or southern England. There are two reasons for this, I believe. 1. Handy for trips to the Netherlands. 2. Doctor Van Der Handsome can drive her anywhere in an hour or two, giving them opportunities for morning coffee, lunch or tea stops but not dinner and most definitely not overnight-in-hotel stops. (My own prejudice may be showing here. As a historical romance writer, I spend far too much time worrying about how long it will take my characters to get somewhere in a carriage and if/where they will spend the night. Given the cars the Doctor drives, he can get most places in England in a few hours.)

• No woman younger than my mother (who had ten years on Betty) wears a “good suit.” Younger women may wear an “Armani suit” but only if they earn over one million pounds a year as a corporate lawyer. Such a woman does not deserve a Dutch doctor.

• Aside from nursing school, Betty’s heroines don’t seem to be overly impressed by the possibilities of education, which is why they get such lousy jobs. But seriously, in England in the second half of the twentieth century a presentable, intelligent, well-spoken girl, even one without an O Level to her name, could do better than being an old lady’s companion for slave wages. Even if she could find an old lady who needed a companion.

•Food: Betty shows a healthy scorn for old-fashioned English food. The meals served in our heroine’s undesirable environments (cod with parsley sauce, tinned soup) are the kinds of things my grandmother used to serve. Betty knew the best English food was served at teatime or for pudding (dessert). She also had a thing for French cuisine (boeuf en croute anyone?). In her taste in food she is uncharacteristically ahead of her time, presaging the development of English foodie culture. I do not, however, believe she would have approved of Gordon Ramsey.

Cinema Betty

I went a trifle off-beat for the cinema picks for this week.

For
Tulips For Augusta we have a film made when Hollywood was still casting ugly people as ugly people (as opposed to 'Hollywood ugly'--defined as a semi-hot person wearing glasses). It's got a quarry and a Cinderella story and lots and lots of bike riding. Sounds like a Betty to me!

Breaking Away

And lest you think it is all a bunch of dreary poor people and their struggle for self-actualization, I hasten to point out a totally hot and gratuitous Dennis Quaid (before his mouth went wonky). Also, it's got some excellent opera.


The Course of True Love stumped me a bit until I remembered that Claribel gets walked off her feet by Unsuitable Frederick. Also, Marc twits Claribel a couple of times about getting picked up by strangers and opening her door to them. So it had to be:
Walk, Don't Run
This isn't Cary Grant's best ever but it is charming. The heroine is engaged to an Unsuitable, meets Cary Grant who sub-lets her Tokyo apartment during the Olympic games (as there are no other rooms to be had) and then further sub-lets his half to an Olympic speed walker. If that isn't being careless about your personal safety I don't know what is.
Alas, Cary Grant doesn't get to kiss anybody...

Thursday, April 1, 2010

Betty and the Real World


Tulips For Augusta has a ton of real world references. It's almost as though Betty lived there--you know, in the real world:
  • Sjors. Evidently much-read and much-beloved at some point by Dutch children.
  • Constantijn asks Augusta if her thumbs prick every time they meet. He's quoting Shakespeare's Macbeth "By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes." Something Wicked This Way Comes is also the scariest Disney movie ever made. Scarred me for life...I'm not kidding. I'm thinking of starting a class-action law suit.
  • When Augusta helps out at the jumble sale she unearths a great, leaden tea pot that would have been approved by Mrs. Beeton. I am desolate to find after much Googling that Mrs. Beeton never actually began a recipe with the words, "first, catch your hare..."
  • Perfume. Stinky Susan wears Chanel No5. Described as the scent of a woman rather than the scent of a flower bouquet. "I want to give women an artificial perfume," said Chanel. "Yes, I really do mean artificial, like a dress, something that has been made. I don't want any rose or lily of the valley, I want a perfume that is a composition." Augusta sports Chantilly (refined, oriental fragrance. This feminine scent possesses a blend of sandalwood, moss, and orange blossom) and Balmain's Jolie Madame (full of dark, wet greens).
The Course of True Love has Marc asking Claribel out to the theatre:
  • They go see The Phantom of the Opera. I've never seen it live (which is probably pretty awesome) but have had to slog my way through Music of the Night along with every high school band in the last 20 years. Yuck. Not my favorite.
  • They also go to see Starlight Express. "The plot features around a group of toy railway trains, portrayed by actors on roller-skates, who come to life inside the mind of a small boy." Ummmmm...roller-skates. Okay. [Betty Debbie] Roller skates are never a good idea. At least not for this Betty. The only picture of me in roller skates is of me sitting on the floor of the rink cradling my pathetic broken wrist. Last year. Ow.

The Course of True Love--Discussion Thread

Can we all agree that the name Claribel Brown is unfortunate? The Brown I take issue with on the grounds that this is the second time this week we've used it. Remember Augusta Brown of Tulips for Augusta fame. As colors for last names go, Brown falls at the end of the line after Grey, Green, White and Black as the most uninspired. And then there's Claribel. Only cows and pet goldfish should be encumbered with a name that conjures blank-eyed cud chewing.

Betty Debbie, because of The Short Unhappy Incident of the Roller Skates, has spent a lot of time with physios. Claribel is described as Junoesque and from the descriptions of her time in physical therapy (ow, ow, OW) I think they would have to be hardy, strapping lasses (and now I'm imagining a sturdy blonde caricature with braids wrapped around her head--think East German swim team).

One evening Claribel spends her time "washing the smalls". I can't tell you how much more delightful that sounds than "undies" or "whites" or "unmentionables".

Bombs in Britain (I dare you to click). Claribel is able to tell Mrs. Snow (weather related surnames!) that, "There's a suspicious parcel in the waiting-room." She had no need to explain; everyone knew about bombs in plastic bags these days. The Course of True Love was published in 1988 and there hadn't been a bomb in London that killed anybody since 1983. 17 December 1983: Harrods was bombed by the IRA. Six people were killed (including three police officers) and 90 wounded during Christmas shopping at the West London department store. Bombing picked up in 1990. Is the equivalent being asked to exit the light rail carriage without a flap because 'everyone knew about jihadists these days'? I doubt it would fail to raise so much as an eyebrow...

Cover art. Dutch castle? Check. Pepper-pot towers? Heck yes. Hawt Dutch orthopaedist? Double check. But what's that she's wearing? It looks like a cinched-in sloppy cotton T-shirt dress with...Are those shoulder pads? You're wearing a T-shirt with shoulder pads to his castle?! Have you not seen how hot he is? Claribel, girlfriend, that is not an uncrushable jersey dress.

At the end Claribel threatens to get a job in Australia or New Zealand. ("New Zealand. Mother has cousins there...Probably the island is littered with the love-lorn dregs of Europe.) Auckland rates a step better than a Brazilian coal mine but he's already in Holland a good deal of the time and I'm sure that a sensible relocation to Manchester should take her sufficiently out of his orbit if Fate, in this instance, chose to be unRemarkable.

The Course of True Love - 1988

The Course of True Love is hard for me to rate. There is sooo much to like....and quite a bit to not like. Let's get down to it.

Claribel Brown is a physiotherapist at St. Jerome’s in London. Age: 28. Tall, Junoesque, beautiful – she is almost an “Olivia”…but she’s a blonde. BLONDE. One of a very few blonde heroines in Neeldom. (In honor of this, my illustrations will feature blondes!) As she is waiting to catch the bus home, one rainy day she is shoved into the gutter by someone in the queue. A Rolls pulls up silently and the man behind the wheel orders her to get in. She sensibly says “Thank you; I prefer to go by bus.” Handsome Stranger in Rolls; “Don’t be a fool, young woman, I have no intention of kidnapping you…” (which is probably what a kidnapper would say). He takes her home and they introduce themselves to each other. He is Dr. Marc van Borsele. She lets him into his house, whips off her tights and allows him to examine her injured foot (there's three things your mama told you never to do: take a ride from a stranger, let a stranger in your house and whip off your tights for a stranger). As he leaves he admonishes her not to open her door to or take lifts from strangers. This does not seem to be the beginning of a beautiful friendship. Claribel soon has an opportunity to ride in that Rolls again. She is heading to the train station to go home to Tisbury for the weekend, hauling her luggage and the TWO CATS (which I have to think is quite a handful – I’m writing this while sitting on the train – I had two small pieces of luggage and a cloth grocery bag…and that was really a bit more than I wanted to be carrying. I can’t imagine having a cat carrier with two cats too!) when Handsome (no longer a stranger) Dr. Borsele drives by and picks her up.
Marc seems to show up with almost monotonous regularity. Claribel helps out with the hospital bazaar (that was opened by minor royalty…which minor royalty, I wonder???What is considered "minor royalty"?) –Marc shows up. He takes her home and asks if she is going to invite him to tea….and so it begins. Marc is always stopping by and begging a meal from Claribel. I lost track of the number of meals/snacks she fixes for him. Marc invites Claribel out to dinner. I do love his deviousness…he looks at her with big puppy dog eyes and she caves; “…he contrived to look lonely and hungry and in need of companionship; Claribel was aware that he was doing it deliberately, but all the same it seemed heartless to refuse.” He seems very sure of himself and he is constantly asking favours of Claribel. “Claribel, will you come help me use these tickets to Phantom of the Opera?.” “Claribel, come to Richmond Park with me.” Claribel, Claribel, Claribel. You’d think she’d get the idea that he likes her…but she remains stubbornly clueless – and increasingly irritated at him. “why come to England when he has a perfectly good country of his own?” It would be easy to get irritated with him myself, but he redeems himself over and over again by all the nice things he does. He saves her train fare as he drives her to and from Tisbury, takes her out, recovers a chair for her, feeds the cats, and even washes up.
Claribel; “Domesticity has two sides to it..you have overlooked the cooking and washing up and clearing away side of it.” “No, no…there is pleasure in the sight of some little woman bending over the kitchen sink. “ Claribel said “Huh!” (as well she should. Fret not, Gentle Reader, Marc was just having her on a bit…he actually washes up and feeds the cats so that she can get ready to go out with him) by this time it’s pretty obvious to any one (anyone EXCEPT Claribel) that Marc wants to marry her…he’s just waiting for her to find out that she wants to marry him. Enter The Evil Woman Irma Cooper. On their way down to Tisbury (again) they come upon a recent accident and Marc volunteers to take a beautiful girl home. This beautiful girl has no soul. None. The driver of the car she was in was taking her to "Brighton” and got KILLED. Yes, killed. You heard me. Evil Irma doesn’t care a bit about dead boyfriend, she needs to get home so that her parents won’t find out that she was going to 'Brighton'. Claribel sees through her, but assumes that Marc doesn’t . “Men!” said Claribel with feeling. “They can be so dim.” Marc really isn’t that dim – while Claribel is busy assuming the worst of him, he’s visiting his sister who gives birth to a son over the weekend and Marc was up all night.
The Deception:
Irma the Soulless turns out to be a stalker. Really. She lays in wait for Marc everywhere….Marc asks Claribel if she will pretend to be his fiancée so as to discourage Irma the Soulless. Claribel doesn’t want to do it, but Marc manages to get her into it before she knows it. He takes her out to eat at the Savoy – and puts a diamond ring in her hand when Irma walks in. April Fool's, Irma! She slips on his great-grandmother’s ring (boy is he going to have to pay for that when they are happily married – the fact that she had to put on her own engagement ring…as a deception). Marc asks her to “flash the ring”. (April Fool's again!) Claribel turns out to be a pretty good actress…”You should call me ‘darling’ more often; it does something to my ego.” She retorts that his ego doesn’t need it. She does agree to a series of “dates” at posh places about town so that Irma will have more opportunity to see the happy couple. Dining and dancing ensue, also lying. Marc invites Claribel to go to Holland for a visit...she says, "It's impossible, I've no holiday due, and what about Enoch and Toots?" Is it simply a coincidence that a bomb goes off in the physio department a few days later? And that Marc happens to come to Claribels rescue, throwing his not inconsiderable weight on top of her and Mrs. Snow? Hmmm.... Okay, okay I don't really think Marc had anything to do with the bomb...but it is awfully convenient - because now there is no excuse for Claribel not to go to Holland. It's here that Claribel finally sees Casa van Borsele. It's a castle, size small. Complete with pepperpot tower. Oh, and it must have slipped his mind, but instead of Mr. or Dr. or even Professor...it's Baron van Borsele. With less than 20 pages to go in the book Claribel finally realizes she's in love. Baron Marc watches her face carefully...He must have found his scrutiny satisfactory for he observed softly, "Well, well....shall we go?" She briefly toys with finding an antipodean job (New Zealand)...but when she gets stuck at the top of the Oldehove tower Marc comes to her rescue as she recites Tennyson. I love you, no, I love YOU, Kiss kiss. The end.

Food: Dutch apple tart with lashings of whipped cream, gingerbread, lemon tart, potato soup, shepherd’s pie, pineapple upside-down pudding, steak and kidney pie, Lobster Thermidor, chandfroid of raspberries, chicken in a cream sauce, an omelette filled with strawberries with warm wine sauce and cream, Victoria sponge, chicken a la king,
Fashion: a plastic pinny that says “Work Hard”, needlecord skirt and knitted jumper, quilted jacket, cotton jersey ensemble in pale toffee, pearly grey crepe de Chine with pale pink flowers, dark blue crepe de Chine.
Rating: Why isn't "Steamed Pudding With Raisins" a rating? Because that's what this seems like it is. Betty has some wonderful prose and I loved much of this book. Loved it. Unfortunately Claribel is just a little too blonde for me (thus the hated raisins). She is much too resistant to Marc - with no good reason. He's a little abrupt and arrogant, and yes, he invites himself in to meals quite often, but ladies, he scrambles eggs, washes dishes, recovers a chair and takes her out on the town...And then there is a bona fide stalker - Irma the Soulless. Love her, or rather Hate her. In lieu of "steamed pudding" I think I'll give this "mince pies".