Such Language, Part 29

Our next installment of 19th century slanguage from that veritable bible of colorful cant, the 1811 Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue. Have fun!

Gallows bird: A thief, or pickpocket; also one that associates with them. My brother’s new friends that he met at the prize-fight last week are quite the collection of gallows-birds.

Ralph Spooner: A fool. Papa told him not to be such a Ralph Spooner and stop going about with them, but when has my brother ever listened?

Dished up: To be totally ruined. I fear that if he persists in seeking their company, he’ll be dished up in no time.

All the kick: in fashion. Apricot-colored neck ruffs may be all the kick right now, but they make me look alarmingly liverish.

Cannister: The head.  I haven’t the faintest idea how Lord Creepey got it into his cannister that I’ll dance with him at Almack’s tonight.

Sherry off: to run away. In fact, I’ll cheerfully sherry off first.

Thornback: An old maid. Indeed, I’d much prefer to be a thornback to encouraging his suit.

 

Such Language! Part 20 (seriously!)

Another installment of colorful verbal shenanigans from the 1811 Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue. Enjoy!

Article: A wench. A prime article; a handsome girl. She’s a prime article (Whip slang), she’s a devilish good piece, a hell of a goer.  (When my insufferable brother and his equally insufferable friends begin talking about the girls they see driving or riding in Rotten Row as prime articles, I have been known to lay about me with a riding crop.)

Grumble in the gizzard: To be secretly displeased about something. (My sister, on the other hand, smiles and laughs at them, but secretly I know she’s grumbling in her gizzard about it.)

Kidney: Disposition, principles, humour.  Of a strange kidney; of an odd or unaccountable humour. A man of a different kidney; a man of different principles. (As you might have guessed, my sister and I are of a very different kidney.)

Totty-headed: Giddy, hare-brained. (Totty-headed Clarice Smedley may be—she tends to promise to dance with twice as many gentleman as there are dances at any given ball—but she’s also exceedingly kind.)

Yam: to yam; to eat or stuff heartily. (Cousin John’s tendency to yam at all meals has made him the despair of my aunt and the favorite customer of his tailor.)

Maggotty: Whimsical, capricious. (Did you hear that Lady Smythe-Flittery had the maggoty idea of dyeing the champagne green at her first party of the season, as a way to celebrate the coming of spring?)

Flustered: Drunk. (Of course, everyone at her party was so flustered that I’m not even sure they noticed the verdant hue of the champagne they were guzzling...or no longer cared.)

Richard Snary:  A dictionary. A country lad, having been reproved for calling persons by their christian names, being sent by his master to borrow a dictionary, thought to shew his breeding by asking for a Richard Snary. (No more from me--I don’t think I can top that!)

Bits and Bobs

Any Pokemon fans out there?

Anyone who is even slightly acquainted with Pokemon will know about the one called Eevee, a cute little fox/cat-like critter who is genetically extroverted and can evolve into a multitude of equally cute little fox/cat-like forms, all of which have names ending in –eon. There’s Vaporeon and Jolteon and Flareon and Umbreon andandand...you get the idea.

Well, my daughter presented me with the latest Eevee evolution, and this kid knows me well.  Meet...NAPOLEON!!!

Two hundred and one years ago today, Napoleon was on his final journey on French soil, which he would depart forever on July 15. This little guy, though, won’t be leaving my writing room.

I’m going to ask her if she’ll design me a Wellingteon next. ☺

Holding your Horses

Fans of Georgette Heyer and Regency-set books in general frequently feature heroes (and sometimes heroines) who are adept at “handling the ribbons”, or driving a vehicle, be it a handsome barouche, a dashing curricle, or a semi-suicidal high perch phaeton “to an inch.” I can’t be the only one in this mostly horseless era to wonder what that was like...and here’s a video that can give us a flavor. Just wonderful!

Lights...Camera...Action!

The word on the street (or more accurately, the blogosphere) is that a movie version of one of Georgette Heyer’s funniest and best-loved novels, The Grand Sophy, is in the works.

Yes, you heard me correctly—a Georgette Heyer movie.

I’m not entirely sure how I feel about this—some books are just so wonderfully crafted that being chopped, pushed, and prodded into movie form until they’re unrecognizable is positively criminal (*coughcoughWinter’sTalecough*), and I would hate to see The Grand Sophy butchered to fit some director’s “vision.”  On the other hand, if it’s done right—IF!—it could be awesome.  If you’re interested in following this story, try here and here...I know I’ll be keeping an eye on it!

 

Retro Blast: Chair Amie

Here's a Retro Blast that will cleverly lead into a future post. We haven't seen the last of inventors named Mr. Pocock!

Of course, after telling you that we’re going to be branching out of the 19th century, here I am with another Ackermann picture and post. But can you blame me? Here, for your viewing pleasure, is Pocock’s Reclining Patent Chair, from the March 1813 issue of Ackermann's Repository:

The accompanying text reads: Our engraving this month represents an elegant fashionable fauteuil chair, upon Messrs. Pocock’s patent reclining principle, to incline the back to any position, with double reclining footstools, which slide from under the chair to extend it when the back is reclined to the length of a couch. A reading-desk is attached to the side, and contrived to swing round in front of the chair. The whole is designed with classical taste, in the present improved fashion of modern furniture, by the ingenious inventors, Messrs. Pocock’s, of Southampton-street, Covent-Garden.

I did a little research, and it seems that the Pocock company specialized in furniture for invalids, perhaps like some of these that we’ve seen recently. But in this case they put their know-how into a more mainstream piece of furniture...and oh, what a piece! The foot rest is retractable, probably tied in to the mechanism that reclines the back, so that the chair doesn’t necessarily take up all that much space...but the ornamentation! Those winged, pot-bellied lions in front are adorable...and the swiveling reading lectern is wonderful, if a tad precarious-looking perched as it is on the serpent’s coils. I wonder if any of these were actually built and sold by Messrs. Pocock?

 
Well, I totally know what I want for Christmas next year. ;) How about you?

Quiz: Name that Prof!

In my new release By Jove, Theo Fairchild is thrilled to find herself working toward her doctorate in the very prestigious Classics Department at John Winthrop University in Boston. The faculty are at the top of their field, the best of the best...for a very good reason!

I’ve put together a little quiz I’m calling Name That Prof; let’s see if you can figure out just why the faculty members that Theo meets in By Jove seem strangely familiar...

1. Professor Arthur Waterman, Theo’s advisor, swims laps every morning in the university’s pool, keeps tanks of pet tropical fish, and wears a large diver’s watch. He just might bear a passing resemblance to:

A. Jacques Cousteau

B. Poseidon, the Greek god of the sea

C. Michael Phelps’s older brother

2. Professor Henry Forge-Smythe, who teaches Theo’s class in Pre-Roman History, walks with crutches, has a very beautiful wife, and when not teaching indulges in a metalworking hobby. He kind of calls to mind:

A. Long John Silver

B. Hephaestus, the Greek god of blacksmiths

C. Tiny Tim Cratchit, thirty years later

3. Department secretary June Cadwallader is fond of peacock blue, dislikes female students, and does her best to rule the Classics Department (and its chairman) with a rod of iron. She is somewhat similar to:

A. Ivana Trump

B. Hera, queen of the Greek pantheon

C.Cersei Lannister

4. Renee Frothington-Forge-Smythe, wife of Professor Henry Forge-Smythe, loves shopping, reading romance novels, and the color pink. She reminds you a bit of:

A. Barbara Cartland

B. Aphrodite, the Greek goddess of love

C. Kim Kardashian

4. Professor Di Hunter teaches Greek, coaches the women’s field hockey team, and is quite disgusted when she happens upon Theo and Grant sharing their first kiss. She might make you think of:

A. Katniss Everdeen

B. Artemis, the Greek goddess of the chase

C. Queen Elizabeth I

5. Professor Paul Harriman also teaches Greek, plays several instruments, and has cut quite a swathe through the hearts of the female students at John Winthrop. He is somewhat reminiscent of:

A. Justin Bieber

B. Apollo, the Greek god of music and poetry

C. Brad Pitt in a gladiator costume

6. Professor Bellow, who directs the Classics Department’s museum, has a habitually somber expression, a dog named Kirby, and prefers to lurk in his office in the basement of Hamilton Hall. He rather resembles:

A. Riff Raff (okay, so how many of you know who he is? ☻)

B. Hades, god of the underworld

C. Your creepy Uncle Hubert

So...are you sensing a pattern here?

Don’t forget, By Jove is on sale for its introductory price of $.99 through tomorrow, June 28, so now is a great time to buy it before the price goes up.

Amazon

Barnes and Noble

Apple itunes

Kobo

And I’m still on tour (blog, that is) so do stop in and say hello!

A brief note about our upcoming schedule: Regina will be taking next week off, then alternating weeks for posts over the next two months so that we can enjoy summer fun with our families. Have a good Independence Day vacation!!

Happy 195th Birthday to You!

This coming Saturday marks the 195th birthday of one of my favorite historical persons: I refer, of course, to HM Queen Victoria.

Since I’ve—ahem!—written about her frequently enough here over the years, I thought it might be fun to give a little quiz to make sure you’ve all been paying attention. Answers can be found in past NineteenTeen posts...or you can wing it and see just how much of a QV enthusiast you are. Are you game? Here we go! Answers (with links) will be posted at the end, so no peeking!

1. True or False: Victoria’s father died before she was a year old, leaving her to be brought up by her mother, a German princess.

2. True or False: The Queen was briefly engaged to Prince William of Orange (The Netherlands) but changed her mind and called off the marriage because she did not wish to have to spend time away from England as queen.

3. True or False: Victoria designed her own wedding dress, which can still be viewed in the London Museum.

4. True or False: Her Majesty was briefly addicted to the chewing of betel-nuts, a temporary fad at court in 1838, and could out-spit her prime minister, Lord Melbourne.

5. True or False: The Queen was one of the first women to use chloroform to help get through childbirth, much to the dismay of certain conservative groups in the medical community of the time who felt that women should not be permitted any abatement of labor pain.

6. True or False: Victoria was passionately fond of parrots as pets, and had several throughout her lifetime who were said to amuse her very much with their comments about Mr. Gladstone.

7. True or False: In her old age, The Queen had several servants from India, of whom she was immensely fond and who taught her the rudiments of Hindi.

*******Answers*******

1. True. Victoria’s father, the Duke of Kent, died of pneumonia when she was only eight months old.

2. False. That was her cousin, Princess Charlotte, who died in 1817.

3. True. It’s amazing how tiny it is!

4. False. That was my tricksy April Fool’s Day post from 2008. :)

5. True. She used chloroform for her last two pregnancies, and was roundly abused by the medical journal The Lancet for doing so.

6. False. Actually, Victoria was a dog lover, and the first thing she did on arriving home after her coronation was to give her spaniel, Dash, a bath.

7. True. Unlike other members of her family and household, Victoria was remarkably color-blind for her time...and my goodness, I haven't written about her Indian servants yet, have I? Look for that in an upcoming post. :)

Okay...so how did you do?

Chair Amie

Of course, after telling you that we’re going to be branching out of the 19th century, here I am with another Ackermann picture and post. But can you blame me?

Here, for your viewing pleasure, is Pocock’s Reclining Patent Chair, from the March 1813 issue of Ackermann's Repository:

The accompanying text reads: Our engraving this month represents an elegant fashionable fauteuil chair, upon Messrs. Pocock’s patent reclining principle, to incline the back to any position, with double reclining footstools, which slide from under the chair to extend it when the back is reclined to the length of a couch. A reading-desk is attached to the side, and contrived to swing round in front of the chair. The whole is designed with classical taste, in the present improved fashion of modern furniture, by the ingenious inventors, Messrs. Pocock’s, of Southampton-street, Covent-Garden.

I did a little research, and it seems that the Pocock company specialized in furniture for invalids, perhaps like some of these that we’ve seen recently. But in this case they put their know-how into a more mainstream piece of furniture...and oh, what a piece!

The foot rest is retractable, probably tied in to the mechanism that reclines the back, so that the chair doesn’t necessarily take up all that much space...but the ornamentation! Those winged, pot-bellied lions in front are adorable...and the swiveling reading lectern is wonderful, if a tad precarious-looking perched as it is on the serpent’s coils. I wonder if any of these were actually built and sold by Messrs. Pocock?

Well, I totally know what I want for Christmas next year. ;) How about you? 

My Fantasy Library

Some people fantasize about dream vacations. Others fantasize about jewelry or cars or sports teams. Me? I fantasize about the library I would love to have. It would look something like this—a room I was privileged to visit daily while in college— and I think I’d furnish it with the help of our friend Rupert Ackermann.

First, I’ll need many of these Gothic Bookcases (Ackermann’s Repository, 1827) lining the room to hold my books. The glass doors will help keep dust at bay...but I’ll cheat and put UV-filtering glass in to further protect my treasures (which will, of course, include a complete collection of first editions of all of Georgette Heyer’s books):

To reach the top shelves, a few Metamorphic Library Chairs might be handy: the seat and top hinge over forward, creating a handy ladder to scurry up while searching for the right book (July 1811):

Then again, I could also store some of my books (I think there will have to be a complete set of Dorothy Sayers’s Lord Peter Wimsey books as well) in this delightful Circular Moveable Bookcase (March 1810):

I’ll definitely need a comfy place to sit and read...like maybe in this Gothic Sofa (December 1825):

Or one of these Gothic Chairs, looking very throne-like but probably not very comfortable (November 1825):

Reading isn’t the only thing I’ll do in my fantasy library...I’ll be writing, of course! Maybe at one of these Cabinet Globe Writing Tables--how much fun are these?! (February 1810):

Or at this slightly more conventional writing table (January 1810):

Though this Secretaire Bookcase (September 1822) is also pretty awesome, as well as having room to store more books:

How about you? Do you have a room of your own you like to dream about? What would you furnish it with?

Which of These Is Not Like the Others?

Whether you like the earlier part of the nineteenth century in England (the Regency era) or the part when Victoria sat on the throne (the Victorian era), there is definitely something memorable about that century.

Just how memorable?

Test your skills with the following three pictures. Those who have been reading this blog from the beginning make recognize one of them. They all look like they were contemporaries with the time they were created, but at least one is a cleverly constructed fake.

A. Roller Coaster Thrills Among the Haut Ton?




B. Bathing Trunks in Bath?




C. Throwing Blossoms at Beaus?



Can you spot the difference? I’ll wait until Sunday to post the answers in the comments section. In the meantime, let us know your thoughts.

Utter Frivolity, Part 1

One of the indirect pleasures of writing about the nineteenth century is collecting 19th century stuff in the name of research, which allows one to feel noble and virtuous (“I’m working hard to bring a truly authentic feel to my stories by buying these!”) I would imagine writers of chick-lit do the same thing with shoes...but I do hope crime writers don’t do the same with murder weapons.

Fortunately, 19th century fashion plates—pictures of current fashions that appeared in 19th century magazines before the advent of Vogue and four-color photo advertisements—are generally much cheaper than Manolos or Jimmy Choos and less alarming than pistols and daggers, so we writers of historical fiction can indulge in owning more than one. I love my collection, and enjoy looking at them as much for the sheer fun of it as for research purposes. Many of them are works of art—delicately drawn and colored, charming, evocative of the world of the past in so many ways.

But some of them, while still attractive and informative and all that, make me just itch to grab a pencil and scribble in a thought bubble or silly caption—the original engraver included some quirk of expression or setting or outlandish detail that just screams for it. So now and then I’ll be posting a few with my thoughts for captions, just for fun. Here are a few to start us off; if you have your own funny caption for any of them, tell us what it is in the comment section. Later this spring I’ll post a few without captions to see what you can do, and maybe hand out a prize or two…so have fun, and enjoy the prints!

#1, from a French Modes de Paris print from around 1827:


"Isn't it wonderful? When I'm not using it to vacuum the rugs, it makes a fabulous fashion statement!



















#2, from the English Ackermann's Repository of Arts, Literature, Commerce, Manufactures, Fashions and Politics, March 1810:



"A peculiar fishy odor? I have no idea what you're talking about!"


















#3, also from Ackermann's Repository, July 1822:




"Oh, darn! It's decaf?"




















And lastly, #4, from another English magazine called La Belle Assemblee, January 1826:



"Hey, lady--give those back! They're mine!"

or

Isn't it wonderful how pets and their owners begin to resemble each other after a while?







Which do you prefer?