Among new romances

Press, 13 July 1985, Page 20

Among new romances

A Flower that’s Free. By Sarah Harrison. Futura, 1985. 763 pp. $9.95 (paperback).

(Reviewed by

Kathryn Rowntree)

Contrary Kate Kingsley is the exotic flower of the title with her red hair, yellow eyes, and wild, intriguing nature. As a five-year-old “war orphan,” Kate is forced to leave her French nanny and Parisian home and is bundled off to live with adoptive parents in Kenya. Twenty years later, in 1936, she moves to London seeking independence and adventure. The story takes place over the years 1936 to 1946, set against the turmoil of the Second World War. Kate, relishing confrontation and danger, finds ample opportunities to test her mettle. The reader is encouraged to admire her daring, uncompromising spirit, when, in fact, she is frequently a selfish, pig-headed trouble-maker. Her irresponsibility is teasing and destructive. She is not to be ignored, however, and engrosses the reader for 763 pages. Harrison is a competent story-teller, meticulous and fluent, who largely avoids patronising her female audience. The plot is well-handled, but all the surprises are for the characters, not the reader.

Hold the Dream. By Barbara Taylor Bradford. Granada, 1985. 543 pp. $24.95. Possessing beauty, brilliance, wealth and power, the headiest of modern aphrodisiacs, Paula Fairley is the superwoman hero of this sequel to “A Woman of Substance.” Paula is the favourite grand-daughter and chosen heir of Emma Harte, central figure in the earlier novel. A 25-year-old millionairess, Paula gobbles up her male counterparts in the business arena with ruthless determination and dizzying success. She is also a wife, and the mother of baby twins, a passionate lover, a gracious hostess, and devoted friend. Bradford’s recipe for success lies in this combining of the traditional with the very modern ideal woman. The novel is a super-soap, crammed with family and business crises and bristling with petty intrigue. It also manages to be moving, written in a measured, elegant style, resisting the kinds of extravagance which strain credibility.

Born of Woman. By Wendy Perriam. Penguin, 1985. 560 pp. $9.95 (paperback). When Lyn and Jennifer Winterton, a drab and dithering young couple, leave London and trek home to Northumbria to visit Lyn’s ailing mother, Hester, they discover her fresh corpse. After the funeral fuss dies down, a tremulous Jennifer explores the cellar of the great house and unearths Hester’s secret diaries. To the couple’s horror, Matthew, Lyn’s brother, pounces on the diaries and publishes them. All hell breaks loose in the Winterton family as the book becomes an instant bestseller and international sensation. As the scene switches between bleak, remote Northumbria and frenzied London, there is a matching change in style and pace. The ■»rdy, languorous prose almost stumbles upon itself, pepped up with shocking scandal, a fiddled will, shades of mysticism and lesbian sex scenes. Lyn and Jennifer scarcely know what has struck them. Feeble , and irritating, they are not up to

their role as central characters. However, despite its patchy quality and excessive length, the story is still an enjoyable read. The Restless Sea. By E. V. Thompson. Pan, 1985. 373 pp. $7.95 (paperback). This is a good old-fashioned adventure story, easy entertainment to doze off with so long as the reader is not of the feminist persuasion. It is set in the fishing village of Pentuan on the Cornish coast in 1810. Nathan Jago, war hero and champion prize-fighter of all England, comes home to establish a fishing business with his winnings. As the business begins to flourish, Jago turns his energy to other causes — championing the scandalous Methodists, freeing a black slave, fighting for the poor and needy, smuggling, and seducing women. Jago is a Man of Action, untrammelled by sensitivities or misgivings of conscience. He meets one or two snags, such as marriage to a "cripple,” but forges through unscathed. Things always turn out for the (his) best, and the means always justify the end. The women he chooses are spirited, arrogant creatures, but are treated as chattels nonetheless. Given the setting, the sex role casting is fair enough, but Thompson seems to revel in flaunting masochism, disguising it with a gloss of chivalry. His dated perspective will stir few female hearts, though perhaps a few nostalgic male egos.

A Dinner of Herbs. By Catherine Cookson. Heinemann, 1985. 513 pp. $24.95. Catherine Cookson’s latest novel takes its theme from the proverb, “Better is a dinner of herbs where love is, than a stalled ox and hatred therewith.” It is a bitter feast of simmering resentments, foul play, and retribution. Set in the leadsmelting community of Langley, Northumberland, the story traces the lives of three childhood friends, Roddy, Hal and Mary Ellen, over the first half of the nineteenth century. Life is rough, producing staunch, spirited characters determined to fight their ill fate. Cookson evokes the malevolent atmosphere with a powerful, finely controlled narrative. An excellent read.