I’m thrilled to present this guest post by Stacey Agdern. It never occurred to me that a romance novel could be an important part of a modern family’s practice of an ancient religious tradition, but it makes perfect sense now. Thank you, Stacey.
Stacey Agdern is an award winning bookseller whose achievements have been cited in Publishers Weekly. She is also one of Barbara Vey’s WW Ladies, reviews Manga and Graphic Novels for Romantic Times Magazine and has given presentations about working with booksellers at regional and national conferences. She can be found on twitter at @nystacey.
This year, my brother and sister-in-law decided that they wanted to add an element to our traditional Passover seder. They suggested that the attendees bring with them a reading, a song, something that would elaborate on the themes of the holiday; anything from the Exodus to the greens on the seder plate.
It took no time at all for me to decide what I wanted to bring. I make no secret of my admiration for Liz Carlyle’s Never Deceive a Duke and the way she deals with the theme of anti-semitism in regency England. Especially since the hero of the story is one of few Jewish characters to be depicted in a historical romance novel (and in a leading role…).
The words used to describe the thematic path of the Exodus, the going out of Egypt, are “from degradation to dignity.” But when I thought about things further, I realized that these words also described the character arc of the hero of Never Deceive a Duke. Not only from the slums of his youth to the wealth of his adulthood, but also, and more importantly for my purposes, his religious arc.
Yes. His religious arc. For the hero grows from a boy unwanted because he has a Jewish taint, to a man who finds comfort in the faith of his mother and the grandparents who loved him. From Degradation to Dignity.
The notes below are what resulted from my mental ramblings. The italicized passages are taken from the story, my notes and interpretations below. I hope you find them thought-provoking.
From Degradation to Dignity: The Journey of Gabriel Ventnor aka Gareth Lloyd
Passover themes as explored in Liz Carlyle’s “Never Deceive a Duke”
By Stacey Agdern
Gabriel stood at a distance as the older boys played, kicking their ball along the swath of green. He had seen them in Finsbury Circus before. And he had seen the ball too; an amazingly round and bouncing sphere that skittered across the grass at lightening speed, and made a satisfying ‘thunk’ when kicked.
The smallest boy caught Gabriel’s eye and crooked a finger. With a glance back at his dozing grandfather, Gabriel dashed onto the grass.
The boy held out the ball. “We need a sixth,” he said. “Can you kick?”
Gabriel nodded. “I can kick.”
The biggest boy elbowed past him. “Give it will,” he said, snatching the ball from between them. “We ain’t playin with Jews.”
The time: The regency era
The place: England.
The facts: Our Gabriel is the product of a mixed marriage between the son of an aristocratic family and a young Jewish woman. He is loved by his parents and maternal grandparents. But his father is a soldier, a major in the British army stationed in India. So he is left with his mother and grandparents, ignored by his paternal relatives, subject to prejudice because of the ‘taint’ of his mother’s faith As you can tell from the scene above, the anti-Semitism of regency England runs deep. It is accepted at all levels of society and passed down to children as young as those depicted in the scene.
“Well he looks sturdy enough,” mused the Duchess, cutting a glance at her husband. “He does not appear to be wormy. He seems appropriately humble. And at least he is not swarthy.”
“No,” admitted the duke churlishly. “He is Major Ventnor made over, thank god-those gangling legs and that gold-colored hair included.”
The duchess turned her back on the old woman who had brought the boy. “Really, Warenham, what choice do we have here?” she murmured. “We must ask ourselves, I think, what is the Christian thing to do? Your pardon, of course, Mrs. Gottfried.” This last was tossed carelessly over her shoulder.”
On the death of his mother, father and maternal grandfather, his maternal grandmother is left with no choice but to seek help from his paternal relatives. They despise the young boy, despite the fact he seems to look just like them. Therein lies the fundamental problem with anti Semitism: at its core, it’s a prejudice against something a person can’t see or touch. As a result, it’s a rather difficult prejudice to fight, as Gabriel is learning here.
The church of St. George’s-in-the-East was a towering white edifice dwarfing everything which surrounded it. Stark against the Sunday morning sun, the bell tower cast a shadow which ran all the way to Cannon street and right over Gabriel’s toes.
“Bubbe, I don’t like it,” he whispered, tugging at her hand.
“What is this?’I don’t like it?’ ” she chided. “It’s a church, tatellah. It is god’s house.”
“Not your god,” Gabriel muttered.
His grandmother squeezed his hand. “Gabriel, my child, you must learn to be a part of them, these English. In a few years, you will be old enough for your Bar Mitzvah, yes?”
He narrowed one eyes suspiciously. “The English don’t have them ,bubbe.”
“Oh yes, but they are called confirmations,” she answered. “It was your mother’s dearest wish that you should have one.”
This scene is both controversial and rather important to Gabriel’s growth. It is controversial because many readers believe that Jewish grandparents would not raise their grandson out of the faith. But these comments come out of a modern view, products of a society where it is possible to live freely and openly as a Jew. However, in Regency England, Jews could not attend university, sit in parliament and do many other things English citizens took for granted. Therefore, it could be argued that Gabriel’s grandparents were acting purely with Gabriel’s survival and success in mind. Any grandparent who loved their grandson would understand that.
It is important to Gabriel’s growth because it demonstrates how truly in-between both the ‘English’ and the Jewish world he is. His loving maternal grandparents lived in a world he could not fully join, and the rest of the world didn’t really want him.
“Oy gevalt,” murmured his grandfather. “Poor devil.”
Soon the commotion was gone. Zayde grabbed Gabriel’s hand and hastened away. The gang had vanished into the g loom. “What did that man do, Zayde?”
“Drank too deep with men he did not know,” he said. “The English need sailors and to the press gang, almost anyone is fair game.”
Later in his own life, Gabriel was sold to a press gang by his paternal relatives. But thankfully, his story does not end there. For us, it jumps ahead to a time where Gabriel is forced to confront his ghosts and his past.
“You are surprisingly knowledgeable, Gabriel, for one who did not worship the faith.”
They had started down the hill which lead to the pavilion and the small lake beyond. Gareth found himself growing unaccountably tense. “Everyone I knew, Antonia, was a Jew,” he said quietly. “As a small boy, I had seen no other way. And yet I was kept from being a Jew.”
…
“Do you believe what they believed?” There was no hint of judgment in her voice, merely curiosity.
“Some days, Antonia, I don’t know what I believe.” He paused to lift a wayward briar from Antonia’s path. “For me, this isn’t even about faith. It’s about a nurturing community of good and honest people.”
She ducked under the briar, then glanced toward him with a faint smile. “Perhaps I understand better than you might imagine, Gabriel.”
Antonia has lived through the tragedy that brought Gabriel back to the central scene of his childhood pain; the death of her husband and child give him an unexpected and unwanted title. And yet she finds herself listening to him when he explains the process of shiva, of mourning. She who has no reason to listen at all.
Even though this story covers a great deal more ground, Gabriel Gareth Ventnor’s journey from degradation to dignity serves as its core. Thank you for listening.
That was beautiful – thank you for sharing, and also for introducing me to a book I had not yet read. I will be adding it to the TBR certainly.
It’s funny, just last night I was talking to my children about Confirmations and Bar Mitzvahs. They are at an age when they are a wee bit jealous of their friends’ First Communions and Bar/Bat Mitzvahs (as Episcopalians we mark neither milestone). Although the passage above is from a work of fiction, it’s nice to think that this is a conversation that’s happened through time. I’m not alone!
Thank you for this excellent review. I will keep this book in mind when I go to a bookshop next. I’m glad romance novelists, whether they write contemporaries or historicals, no longer shy away from discussing social issues or controversies. These are issues some of us have to confront every day–it is good they are dealt with in popular cultural forums too.
Haven’t read the book yet, but I’m curious: why is a British Jew tossing Yiddish into conversation (Zayde, tateleh)? Is his family from Eastern Europe? Uncommonly early for them to have emigrated, if it’s a Regency novel. What’s the scoop?
I haven’t read this book (haven’t read many Carlyle books since years ago), but I think I will as it sounds interesting. Many thanks.
@Eric
I’m largely ignorant about this subject, but could you clarify what you mean by ‘uncommonly early’?
I think I was taken aback by that because I’d assumed it was generally accepted that England has a Jewish presence since 12th or 13th century and again, early 17th century. But I’m guessing you already knew this, so I’m thinking I misunderstood your question. Please educate me? Oh, and telling me that my limited knowledge of British Jewish history is completely f***ed is okay with me, too.
I’m always willing to learn unfamiliar aspects of history.
(And since you mentioned ‘British’, I have to point out that Scotland has a different history (and legal system) from England and Wales’s.)
Hi, Malili! Your clarification about “British” vs. “English” is exactly on point here. Yiddish was spoken by Jews from Eastern Europe, but those Jews didn’t begin emigrating Westward in large numbers until the end of the 19th century, decades after the Regency. (Part of my own family came to Glasgow, and dispersed from there, in the 1890s.)
What Jews there were in England in the earlier 19th c. were mostly Sephardic Jews, descended from the community that was expelled from Spain in 1492; they never spoke Yiddish at any point. To have one of them dropping a Yiddishism into conversation would be like having Mr. Darcy drop an “och” or “sassenach” or “wee bairn” into a chat with Elizabeth Bennett, on the theory that he’s “British,” and we all know that’s how they talk, aye?
The local English Jewish presence disappears in 1290 with the edict of expulsion, and gets rebuilt after Cromwell allows Jews to return, but there’s no historical continuity between those communities that I know of. (Would be glad to have that corrected!) And neither spoke Yiddish.
I also notice that there’s a reference to a female character’s Bat Mitzvah in the novel. Is the family from Rome (where they didn’t speak Yiddish)? If not, that’s awfully unlikely, although not absolutely impossible. My wife stumbled over that anachronism when she read the book–which, I should add, she also quite enjoyed!
Few Jews lived in England (later Great Britain) following their legal expulsion in the late 13th century until they were allowed to return in 1655. Those that did immigrate in the 17th and 18th centuries were predominantly Sephardim (from Spain, Portugal, Brazil and elsewhere). They would not have spoken Yiddish. That is not to say that there could not have been a Yiddish speaker anywhere in Britain, and no doubt, there probably were a few families. But until the late 19th century, when the large waves of Ashkenazi emigration began in Eastern Europe, there would have been very few Yiddish speakers in the British isles.
Hmmm… And even if they were Ashkenazim, they might not have spoken Yiddish. The first waves of German Jews who came to the US, at least, spoke German, not Yiddish; they were Reform Jews, and not particularly keen on being associated in anyone’s mind with the much poorer, Orthodox or secular-leftist, Yiddish-speaking masses who came later from Poland, Russia, etc. Big differences in class, education, affiliation, etc.
@Eric and @DH
Ah, now I have a better understanding of the question. Many thanks. Eric, your use of Darcy and the Scots dialect is imaginative, funny, and surprisingly helpful. It really was.
–
I forgot to say: while reading this post, I thought of one of our prime ministers, Benjamin Disraeli. Did anyone think of him as well?
I read and loved this book as well. And while I agree that it may not have been absolutely historically accurate in the differences between Askenazim & Sephardim language, or the use of bat mitzvah (which frankly, I don’t recall), I still applaud Ms. Carlyle for including a Jewish hero and showing us what it was like for Jews back then.
I’ve often lamented the fact that there were so few Jewish characters in romance (in non-stereotypical roles), and for her to put Gabriel in as her hero was wonderful. I only wish that there were more authors who would do so. I’d love to see more authors write about Jewish folks who fall in love and rather than go to church, go to shul instead. We’re not freaks of nature to be stereotyped.
Great review, Stacy! Thanks for sharing it, Jessica.
Just popping in to say what a fascinating discussion. Back to lurking!
I did, but I didn’t have much else of interest to add, except a nitpick regarding the comment about how
English citizens who were female couldn’t take those for granted either. Neither could Catholics, Quakers and other dissenters. And much of the working class was disenfranchised (and, realistically speaking, wouldn’t have had any opportunity to go to university either).
@Lori
Please don’t think I’m being negative about the book as a whole! Its anachronisms don’t sound worse than many others in historically-set romances–they just happen to be the kind that I’d notice.
@Maili: Thanks! I had fun thinking of a good comparison. I’m glad you enjoyed it.
@Laura: I thought of Disraeli, and even more of Daniel Deronda, who counts as a Jewish romance hero, I suppose.
@Eric: I do admit to being a pretty forgiving reader. Unless it’s something that really hits a hot button. So no problem
My overall feeling was wow – she did a great job with all aspects of the book, and I was just so pleased to see a Jew portrayed as a real person in any romance, that I was willing to overlook inaccuracies that don’t reflect poorly on Judaism in general.
Not just Jews but anyone not in the Church of England (for example, any of the “nonconforming” sects of Protestantism) couldn’t hold a wide variety of jobs or go to university. Indeed it’s difficult to show how thoroughly some of these attitudes have changed, and stories like this are important reminders that the current milieu isn’t a foregone conclusion. And what a great to add to the seder conversation!
Wonderful Stacey!
Thanks to Eric, DH, and Maili for this fascinating discussion. For myself, I would’ve expected archaic Hebrew over Yiddish, but it would’ve been more of an ignorant gut instinct, rather than an informed prediction. I now know the history better. Perhaps many Americans are far more inclined to think of Yiddish for Jewish speakers.
Great post and discussion, thank you!
I know there are still speakers of Ladino but I have no idea whether the Sephardim of Regency London would have spoken it.
After a bit more Googling I found this:
Laura – minor correction. 19th century Great Britain did not have “citizens” it had “subjects.” There is an interesting piece at http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/magazine/4191613.stm which talks about when or if they are citizens today.
Thanks for a really interesting discussion. I will definitely be picking this book up and also looking up some history on the subject.
The only other historical romance book I can remember reading with a Jewish main character I believe was called Star Sapphire. I don’t remember the author; I think it was the late 80s. The Jewish heroine entered a marriage of convenience with an English nobleman. He was mostly kind to her, but didn’t really attempt to introduce her into his Society. She was approached by the Rothschilds to help deliver a shipment of gold to the army in Spain, posing as a Spanish widow on her way home (I think). When she went missing is when the husband realized how much he cared about her.
I remember I kept that book for several years because it was the only one I ever read that had a heroine with a Jewish background, too. Even my sister read it (she hated reading back then).
Sorry. I was referring back to Stacey’s usage, which I’d just quoted, but I should have put my use of the word in quotation marks.
“Citizens,” in a Regency context, makes me think of the French Revolution and the Scarlet Pimpernel.
In a modern UK context, the word “subject” makes me think about the bit in UK passports about how
According to the post you linked to, there’s actually a mention of the “bearer” being a “citizen,” but nonetheless, it’s always struck me as being extremely archaic.
Another book – a great one but out of print – with a Jewish main character is A Bed of Spices by Barbara Samuel. It takes place in the 14th century, the hero is a Jewish physician, the heroine the daughter of a German nobleman. LikesBooks.com has a great review that made me find it on the used book market. It did not disappoint. It’s been a while since I read it but I remember that I was ok with the HEA (which, you can imagine, was difficult to accomplish given the time period.)
The only ones I’ve come across are Miss Jacobson’s Journey by Carola Dunn which, like the one you mention, has a plot that involves the Rothschilds and a delivery of gold, and Claire Delacroix’s Honeyed Lies, which begins in Toledo in 1084.
My partner proudly declares (at EVERY opportunity in American company) that he is a subject, not a citizen. He loves the reactions he gets.
I’m definitely going to read this book; I’ve enjoyed the author’s two most recent books, but wasn’t sure where to start with her backlist. I love “outsider” romance stories.
I think the point about others (women, working class, pretty much anyone not CofE) being excluded from a lot of the same areas as Jews is valid, but I’m not sure what exactly the point is as regards this book. Other books can and do deal with women, Quakers, people of color, members of the lower classes, et cetera, aspiring to what they can’t have or actually getting it, through marriage or some twist of circumstance. I’ve not encountered a Regency romance novel that does that for a Jewish character, though.
I mentioned it as a nitpick regarding Stacey’s review, not the book itself.
Wow. What an interesting post and a fascinating discussion. You really do learn new things every day!
I’m thinking that I’d like to get hold of this book now. I haven’t read much by this author but this one sounds intriguing. I take it that Antonia is the herione? I gather she is a relative of some kind – is she the hero’s widowed sister-in-law or someone else?
Also @ Eric Selinger, please excuse my ignorance but who is Daniel Deronda?
Kaetrin, I’m not Eric, but I can tell you a bit about Daniel Deronda. He’s the hero of the book of the same name, written by George Eliot.
@Kaetrin
I’m not Eric, either, but thought you’d like to know there is a BBC TV adaptation of Daniel Deronda. The first and, until the BBC version in 2002, only adaptation was filmed in 1921, with Reginald Fox as Daniel Deronda.
Edited:
Additions to book suggestions:
Nita Abrams wrote a couple of Regency-era historical romances featuring Jewish heroines. Can’t remember the titles.
Jewel of the Sea – Susan Wiggs (a secondary character is Jewish; this novel basically highlights the prejudices against him because of his background)
The Morning Gift – Eva Ibbotson (a turn-of-the-century historical romance of heroine, who’s daughter of (I think) Austrian-German Jewish parents)
Thx Laura & Maili. Clearly I am a literary ignoramous but I am getting better educated by the minute!
Thank you, Stacey and Jessica–I love these discussions!
Jessica asked if she might post a comment from me, and I decided I should come do it myself. I would like to thank both she and Stacey for their comments regarding this book. I wrote it in part because the degree to which Jews contributed to England’s history and culture is so often overlooked. The book just a work of popular fiction, yes, but I thought it gave perhaps a small glimpse of an oft-neglected view of life in the 19th century. Ignorance is sometimes best battled in small, incremental ways.
Great post, Stacy, and great discussion. I loved this book and it never occurred to me reading it that the use of yiddish words was questionable.
Re. Disraeli, his father Isaac had his sons baptized because he knew that was the only way they could get anywhere in life. I can’t remember which year Jews were permitted to sit in Parliament (Sometime in mid-19th century). The first was a Rothschild who had been elected some years earlier but was only then allowed to take his seat.