In the Absence of the Emperor: the absence of enjoyment
These words I wrote at the close of my last entry have turned out to be somewhat prophetic. I really struggled with this book. I had little interest in the subject matter before I started, but that doesn't necessarily mean I won't enjoy readying about the topic; I am, for example, currently reading a book about golf. Yes, golf. I only really enjoy crazy golf, but the book is by a writer whose other books I have loved and his witty and self-deprecating style make it an enjoyable read in spite, rather than because of the subject. So my lack of interest, combined with my lack of knowledge of this period of history gave me little motivation to continue reading, but continue I did, as I had committed to reading all Simona's books and I wasn't going to let Napoleon beat me. I will admit to skimming the final few chapters somewhat, but as I have no intention of taking it as my specialist subject on Mastermind any time soon, I think that's allowable.
The book is one of Simona's only two commissioned works, and I think that this was a job, rather than a work borne of one of her personal passions shows. The book describes the days and months following Napoleon's defeat, the return of the Bourbon King Louis XVIII to France following 23 years in exile and how society in Paris and London responded. When I was at school I always enjoyed my history lessons, but I was pretty rubbish at it, once getting a shameful 3/20 for a piece of coursework. My problem was that I described events rather than analysed them, and that is a feature of this book too. In one way that is helpful, as I now know what happened after Waterloo, and how the English soon rushed back to holiday in Paris and marvel at how the French were not as barbarous as they had been led to believe. What I don't know having ploughed through the book is why did the French welcome back the royalty they had so violently dispatched to the guillotine?
In the Absence of the Emperor is, however, worth more than 3/20. Simona had consulted a wealth of historical sources (including the journal and correspondence of a Miss Mary Berry. Who knew the doyenne of baking was over 200 years old?) and whilst her research was clearly careful and comprehensive this book lacks the personal knowledge and reflection that lifted the other historical account she wrote, Sixty Miles from England, from being too dry. Maybe the sources she used here weren't in themselves as sharp tongued and gossipy as the Foreign Office papers quoted in the earlier book, but I didn't get the same impression of real, rounded personalities here.
This entry, therefore, is going to be short and sweet; it is difficult to write much about something you have really not enjoyed, but equally not hated or found anything actually bad to write about. If you have been inspired to read any of Simona's books as a result of this project, don't start here! I usually like to take a book on holiday that is connected to wherever I am going - set in the location, written by a local author - but I am very relieved I hadn't saved this for my upcoming Paris trip as I'd have been very miserable! For the same reason, I'm going to go out of chronological order for my next read, and save Cheltenham for my next visit to my parents. This was her other commissioned work, but I'm hopeful that it being about my home town will make it a different proposition to In the Absence of the Emperor and far more satisfying read. My next read will be the book published posthumously, Singing and Dancing Wherever She Goes, about Maud Karpeles. collaborator and assistant to Cecil Sharp, collecting over 1500 folk tunes during their 1916 trip to the Appalachian Mountains. Simona knew the 'small and witchy' Maud, so this books returns to more familiar territory of a personal connection between author and subject, which I'm fervently hoping will mean a book I can once again enjoy on my morning commute.