a vain, light-minded coxcomb, too clever for his own good, or anyone else's
This was going to be a much longer post, but it's late, and I'm just too tired to recap today/yesterday, so instead of me, you get Julian Kestrel, "a man who has no occupation but that of being sartorially splendid, trenchantly witty, and artfully blasé." He's the Regency dandy-turned-detective of, sadly, only four books. While I think the mysteries themselves of the first three are average - though clever, well-written, and above-average average - the characters are really the best part. Mainly, Kestrel, and his ex-pickpocket Cockney valet, Dipper. It's frustrating, though, because the series ends just as Ross seems to be shifting into gear; the mysteries themselves are stand-alone and self-contained, but so many developmental threads are started, and that's where everything's left. Namely: Kestrel's professional/friendly association with Bow Street Runner Peter Vance and whether his amateur involvement in solving crimes would have led to more professional engagements; Kestrel's on-and-off relationship with Dipper's sister Sally; and his "I've always been the kid outside the candystore window with regards to families"-ish correspondence with Philippa Fontclair.
1. First three set in England, fourth in Italy.
2. The second shares narrative POV duties fairly equally with Sally, Dipper's sister, and a nineteen year old Whitehall prostitute. She's a fascinating character, and Ross constructs an entirely credible relationship between her and Kestrel, but this plus is also a minus: it's a Kestrel mystery where we simply don't get as much time as we want with our favorite Gentleman of Fashion. But I would have liked to have seen more of her later on, to find out what happened to her.
3. The slow revelation of Julian's history through the four books is very satisfying - never too slow, never too much too early on. We do find out near the end of the first how Dipper ended up with him (tried to pick his pocket; Kestrel hauled him into court, and then hired him).
4. The third, Whom the Gods Love, is probably my favorite, mainly due to guest character Quentin Clare and the themes of doubles, deceptive appearances, and people not always being as they are perceived. Crap, that's not particularly articulate, but I don't want to give the solution away, because it's a pretty good one.
5. While googling, I found that I wasn't the only one who twigged on The Philippa Connection. That is, that something was being set up along the lines of the Lymond-Philippa plot. Of course, it may also be a case of creative interpretation on slender evidence. Namely, in the third book, Kestrel sends Philippa a copy of Marco Polo's bio as a birthday present or somesuch, and there's a line early in Pawn in Frankincense where Lymond says something to the effect of "not everyone is one of nature's Marco Polos like the Somervilles." And there's a set-up for a similarity in situation, that Philippa is too "good and decent for a blackguard like him," though it's more distinctly a class separation here: she's wealthy gentry, he's the son of an actress and entirely lacking in class and pedigree. Had Ross lived to continue the series, I'm pretty sure we would have seen adult Philippa later on.
6. It goes without saying I'd love to see whatever notes Ross had for the fifth one.
The only Ross-Kestrel site I could find.
A blog review of the series
A Mystery Guide review of the series.
And these are all bits from the first, Cut to the Quick:
Dipper shot a shrewd glance at him. There had to be more to the story than that. You did not ask a cove to be a groomsman at your wedding in return for his chucking you out of a gambling house. But if Mr Kestrel had done something handsome, there would be no getting him to talk about it.
He fell to polishing the buttons on Julian's coat. "A lot of the swell mob goes to weddings," he reminisced. "If there's a big crowd and you got the right kind of duds, you can mingle with the guests, and nobody'll ever know you wasn't invited. They're bad places to try and lift any wipes, on account of all the blubbering that goes on, everybody's always using theirs. Tickets is easy to get, though--nobody's thinking about what time it is. I never had the heart to work a wedding, meself. When people is as happy as that, how can you queer it for 'em by filing their clys? I ask you, sir."
"With sensibilities like yours, I often wonder how you ever managed to steal anything at all."
"I picked and chose me mark, sir, when I could afford to. Gentry coves like you, sir, as looked as if they wouldn't miss a few quid here and there."
"You can't judge a man's finances by his clothes. Some of the heaviest swells in London have some of the lightest pocketbooks."
"Oh, yes, I know that now, sir."
"Since you came to work for me, you mean," said Julian, amused.
****
Kestrel's first meeting with eleven-year-old Philippa:
"If everyone who died with unpunished sins on his conscience came back as a ghost, the living would be crowded out of England."
"You're cynical. I thought you would be. Can you sneer?"
"With terrifying effect."
"Oh, do it, please! I want to see it!"
"I'm afraid you're much too young to withstand it. I should be accused of stunting your growth--perhaps even sending you into a decline."
"I wouldn't go into a decline. I'm robust. My governess says so. But, come along, I mustn't make you late to dinner."
****
Ways in which Mr Kestrel is a great deal like myself:
"Time to wake up, sir," Dipper ventured.
"What time is it?" came a sepulchral voice from under the bedclothes.
"Seven o'clock, sir."
"Oh, my God." Julian dragged himself out from under the covers. "Don't--" he began, but Dipper was already parting the window curtains. Julian dove under the sheet again to block out the light. "It's appalling," he groaned, "simply appalling, to think that anyone was ever so benighted as to worship the sun. Dipper, if I ever tell I mean to have a house in the country, immerse me in cold baths and singe me with mustard plasters till my sanity returns."
Dipper was glad to find him in such a tractable mood. When Mr Kestrel was really out of temper, he did not mock or complain, but went about in a tautly strung silence more disturbing than any show of rage.
1. First three set in England, fourth in Italy.
2. The second shares narrative POV duties fairly equally with Sally, Dipper's sister, and a nineteen year old Whitehall prostitute. She's a fascinating character, and Ross constructs an entirely credible relationship between her and Kestrel, but this plus is also a minus: it's a Kestrel mystery where we simply don't get as much time as we want with our favorite Gentleman of Fashion. But I would have liked to have seen more of her later on, to find out what happened to her.
3. The slow revelation of Julian's history through the four books is very satisfying - never too slow, never too much too early on. We do find out near the end of the first how Dipper ended up with him (tried to pick his pocket; Kestrel hauled him into court, and then hired him).
4. The third, Whom the Gods Love, is probably my favorite, mainly due to guest character Quentin Clare and the themes of doubles, deceptive appearances, and people not always being as they are perceived. Crap, that's not particularly articulate, but I don't want to give the solution away, because it's a pretty good one.
5. While googling, I found that I wasn't the only one who twigged on The Philippa Connection. That is, that something was being set up along the lines of the Lymond-Philippa plot. Of course, it may also be a case of creative interpretation on slender evidence. Namely, in the third book, Kestrel sends Philippa a copy of Marco Polo's bio as a birthday present or somesuch, and there's a line early in Pawn in Frankincense where Lymond says something to the effect of "not everyone is one of nature's Marco Polos like the Somervilles." And there's a set-up for a similarity in situation, that Philippa is too "good and decent for a blackguard like him," though it's more distinctly a class separation here: she's wealthy gentry, he's the son of an actress and entirely lacking in class and pedigree. Had Ross lived to continue the series, I'm pretty sure we would have seen adult Philippa later on.
6. It goes without saying I'd love to see whatever notes Ross had for the fifth one.
The only Ross-Kestrel site I could find.
A blog review of the series
A Mystery Guide review of the series.
And these are all bits from the first, Cut to the Quick:
Dipper shot a shrewd glance at him. There had to be more to the story than that. You did not ask a cove to be a groomsman at your wedding in return for his chucking you out of a gambling house. But if Mr Kestrel had done something handsome, there would be no getting him to talk about it.
He fell to polishing the buttons on Julian's coat. "A lot of the swell mob goes to weddings," he reminisced. "If there's a big crowd and you got the right kind of duds, you can mingle with the guests, and nobody'll ever know you wasn't invited. They're bad places to try and lift any wipes, on account of all the blubbering that goes on, everybody's always using theirs. Tickets is easy to get, though--nobody's thinking about what time it is. I never had the heart to work a wedding, meself. When people is as happy as that, how can you queer it for 'em by filing their clys? I ask you, sir."
"With sensibilities like yours, I often wonder how you ever managed to steal anything at all."
"I picked and chose me mark, sir, when I could afford to. Gentry coves like you, sir, as looked as if they wouldn't miss a few quid here and there."
"You can't judge a man's finances by his clothes. Some of the heaviest swells in London have some of the lightest pocketbooks."
"Oh, yes, I know that now, sir."
"Since you came to work for me, you mean," said Julian, amused.
****
Kestrel's first meeting with eleven-year-old Philippa:
"If everyone who died with unpunished sins on his conscience came back as a ghost, the living would be crowded out of England."
"You're cynical. I thought you would be. Can you sneer?"
"With terrifying effect."
"Oh, do it, please! I want to see it!"
"I'm afraid you're much too young to withstand it. I should be accused of stunting your growth--perhaps even sending you into a decline."
"I wouldn't go into a decline. I'm robust. My governess says so. But, come along, I mustn't make you late to dinner."
****
Ways in which Mr Kestrel is a great deal like myself:
"Time to wake up, sir," Dipper ventured.
"What time is it?" came a sepulchral voice from under the bedclothes.
"Seven o'clock, sir."
"Oh, my God." Julian dragged himself out from under the covers. "Don't--" he began, but Dipper was already parting the window curtains. Julian dove under the sheet again to block out the light. "It's appalling," he groaned, "simply appalling, to think that anyone was ever so benighted as to worship the sun. Dipper, if I ever tell I mean to have a house in the country, immerse me in cold baths and singe me with mustard plasters till my sanity returns."
Dipper was glad to find him in such a tractable mood. When Mr Kestrel was really out of temper, he did not mock or complain, but went about in a tautly strung silence more disturbing than any show of rage.