REVIEW: The Fortunes of Prue
The Fortunes of Prue: Bessie Marchant. Ward Lock, published as part of the Sovereign series.
Orphaned Prue, age unknown, and her older brother Theo are travelling to London on an important journey. Although Prue is looking forward to enjoying herself, Theo is about to interview for a post that he’s been offered. As they have no other family members and the position he used to hold is gone, the responsibility of all this weighs heavily on Theo. A series of mishaps on the journey lead to Theo being under a cloud of suspicion and Prue pawning an Indian necklace she inherited from her dead mother just so they can get home.
Theo, the more learned, is a worrier; Prue is both more cheerful and practical. So, she turns to a friend of theirs, one Bendigo Wilson, with an orange-selling business in Paraguay for help. He offers Theo a job, and Prue insists that she will go too.
It seems her help is needed, the plantation manager is sick, his wife a weak character with two young children, and the ‘native’ workers troublesome. The latter are not all Paraguyan, some are referred to in offensive terms and they’re broadly depicted as lazy and easily swayed. Theo, who was so protective he didn’t want his sister seen riding a man’s bike in town, is away a lot, leaving Prue to handle the chief villain Luffia and the type of alarms that Bessie Marchant heroines have to face. (Actually, this is less eventful than the last book by her that I read, ‘A Bid for Safety’. I didn’t review that here for whatever reason.)
A series of coincidences mean that most of the people involved in the events of the London trip end up on the same stretch of the Parana river, and Theo’s innocence, which Prue so stoutly defended, is proved. There’s the usual odd mix of snobbishness - Theo and Prue are very poor, but ‘of the right sort’ while Mr Trensom Cobb is a parvenu who behaves very badly. Colonisation is seen as an unquestionable good. There’s the typical duality over how to be ladylike and as brave and resourceful as a Marchant heroine must be - in one absurd moment, Prue is suddenly aware of how ragged and dirty she looks after she took on six looters single-handedly. It’s typical Bessie Marchant, except it will leave you craving an orange.
This entry was originally posted at https://feather-ghyll.dreamwidth.org/159406.html. Please comment wherever you prefer to.
Orphaned Prue, age unknown, and her older brother Theo are travelling to London on an important journey. Although Prue is looking forward to enjoying herself, Theo is about to interview for a post that he’s been offered. As they have no other family members and the position he used to hold is gone, the responsibility of all this weighs heavily on Theo. A series of mishaps on the journey lead to Theo being under a cloud of suspicion and Prue pawning an Indian necklace she inherited from her dead mother just so they can get home.
Theo, the more learned, is a worrier; Prue is both more cheerful and practical. So, she turns to a friend of theirs, one Bendigo Wilson, with an orange-selling business in Paraguay for help. He offers Theo a job, and Prue insists that she will go too.
It seems her help is needed, the plantation manager is sick, his wife a weak character with two young children, and the ‘native’ workers troublesome. The latter are not all Paraguyan, some are referred to in offensive terms and they’re broadly depicted as lazy and easily swayed. Theo, who was so protective he didn’t want his sister seen riding a man’s bike in town, is away a lot, leaving Prue to handle the chief villain Luffia and the type of alarms that Bessie Marchant heroines have to face. (Actually, this is less eventful than the last book by her that I read, ‘A Bid for Safety’. I didn’t review that here for whatever reason.)
A series of coincidences mean that most of the people involved in the events of the London trip end up on the same stretch of the Parana river, and Theo’s innocence, which Prue so stoutly defended, is proved. There’s the usual odd mix of snobbishness - Theo and Prue are very poor, but ‘of the right sort’ while Mr Trensom Cobb is a parvenu who behaves very badly. Colonisation is seen as an unquestionable good. There’s the typical duality over how to be ladylike and as brave and resourceful as a Marchant heroine must be - in one absurd moment, Prue is suddenly aware of how ragged and dirty she looks after she took on six looters single-handedly. It’s typical Bessie Marchant, except it will leave you craving an orange.
This entry was originally posted at https://feather-ghyll.dreamwidth.org/159406.html. Please comment wherever you prefer to.