The Foundling - Review by Carole

I remember Georgette Heyer's Regency romance books vividly from my young teenage years. They always had painting-like covers showing impossibly beautiful people from times gone by. At that time, the stories didn't intrigue me; I gravitated toward Victoria Holt and Barbara Michaels in those days. But my sisters-in-law are big fans, and they recently discovered that her books are back in print. One of them gave me The Foundling to read. It stayed on my nightstand for a while, but I finally picked it up. I'm very glad I did.

What I didn't recall at all from days gone by was the humor that Heyer injects into her stories. It's like she's poking a bit of fun at the very scenarios she creates. This particular story is full of breach of promise, mistaken identity, besmirched honor, missed communications, and drawing room situations (why don't we have drawing rooms anymore?). I enjoyed the book thoroughly, and I'm taking a couple of more to the beach with me later this month.

All in all, they are not life-changing stories. They are Fluff-n-Trash at their very best. After slogging through Ahab's Wife recently, it was a welcome change of pace. The books are very visual to me--I could picture them as movies. I wonder why that hasn't ever happened to Heyer's books. Maybe now that I've read one, it will. I seem to have that mysterious power--I try to only use it for good. Sometimes I read a book only to hear that a movie is in the offing, and I want to shout, "Noooo!" Feast of Love was a recent example. But if my powers lead to a Heyer book making its way to the big screen, I could live with that. I'll let you know if I hear anything.

How Do You "Shop" for Books?

This morning, as I perused the book section of the local newspaper, I wondered how other people find books to read.

Me, I troll constantly for books. I feel a little like a shark. Seeking books to read is as natural to me as breathing. It's not that I don't have enough to read, for heaven's sake. Even after my moratorium, my nightstand creaks under the weight of the pending book pile. We won't even mention the "vertical" stacks in my den (one of which nearly beaned a cat last weekend).

I just love books. I love the news stories about them, the adventure of seeking them, the thrill of encountering a new gem. I love the feel of books, turning them over in my hand as I ponder them, reading the dust jacket blurbs, wondering just how accurate the reviews are. (I mean, one doesn't expect to read "Ick!" on a dust jacket, does one?)

The thrill is as much in the hunt as in the actual discovery. I check out book reviews, book news, book and literature blogs, author interviews. I check out list of award-winning books. I look at paragraph-long reviews in The New Yorker. Sometimes book discoveries aren't anywhere near the arts and literature section. When that new television show is based on a book (only the show's writers disavow hearing about that suspiciously familiar storyline), the story can be in the Regional or Metro section of the paper.

Nearly every day I find a new gem: a new book, an interesting new author, a tidbit about a dead author.

I also keep a list of books in my organizer. More often than not, I'll recognize a title buried in the sports section of the thrift store book section and hold in my hands that bio on cousins (tsars, emperors and kings) that started World War I. My list is ever-growing and, frankly, it's terribly long. I started to have to annotate it with when I read it and, if I didn't finish it, why. However, I will continue to add to the list (and update Terry Pratchett's book list, which ends with books set to be published in 2006, shame on me).

Most importantly, I listen to people whose opinion on books I respect. Carole is my go-to person on books; we may not always agree on books, but I trust her judgment. If she likes a book, I am more likely to give it a chance. I also trust Kathy's opinions on books, especially since she recommended No Angel, The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time and Feast of Love. I also trust Lois, whose recommendation of The Red Tent compelled me to give it the college try it deserved and whose comments on Heart-Shaped Box prompted me to keep my Reading Buddy close.

How do you determine what books to read? Where do you look? Whose opinions do you trust?