It’s 30 colorful pages of book recommendations and dazzling travel photos:
... and much more!
This historical fantasy fiction (304 pages) was published in March of 1986 by Penguin. The book takes you to a Victorian circus. Melissa read Nights At The Circus and loved it; it wouldn't be on our site if she didn't recommend it.
Aerialist Sophie Fevvers is the glamorous star of Colonel Kearney’s Circus, the toast of turn-of-the-nineteenth-century London. She’s 6-feet-2 and curvy with platinum blonde hair and a voice that demands attention. And oh, yeah… she may or may not be part swan.
We meet Fevvers in her dressing room where, among the detritus of a starlet’s chamber (stockings and face powder and handbills and champagne), she entertains a skeptical American reporter with the story of her life. And Jack is on a mission to determine the truth: Is she part swan or complete scam artist?
For now, her ‘notorious and much-debated wings’ are tucked away under a baby-blue satin dressing-gown, and she claims to have been hatched from a giant egg. As Ben Ben chimes the hour of midnight, she regales the newspaperman with tall tales of her early attempts at flight, her time in a brothel, and her first foray onto the stage. Throughout the intoxicating evening, he (and we) are seduced by the stories she tells. They’re melancholy, thrilling, and so outrageous they just might be true.
But that’s only the beginning. Soon Jack has joined the circus and the troupe, including Fevvers, is off to St. Petersburg and an epic train journey across the Russian countryside to Siberia. Along the way, we met Dukes and Countesses, a family of trapeze artists, clowns who are very in touch with their emotions, a Shaman, a monkey known as The Professor, a real-life Sleeping Beauty. There are villains and heroes and sometimes it’s difficult to tell which is which.
This is a massive technicolor fantasy rendered in prose as intricately embroidered as brocade. But the plush turns of phrase and Fevver’s verbal razzle-dazzle, are all in service of the points being made by author Angela Carter about social class and wealth, sexism and feminism, and appearance versus reality.
In this audiobook, Fevvers and the rest of the cast of quirky characters are brought to vivid life by British actress Adjoa Andoh. Fevver’s voice is a blend of cockney and theater that clangs ‘like dustbin lids,’ and Andoh’s interpretation is enthralling.
Good luck when you fall in love with Fevvers. For all her brash baudiness, a tender heart beats beneath her feathered and fringed exterior, and her larger-than-life adventures are equal parts heartbreak and triumph.
Her native city welcomed her home with such delirium that the Illustrated London News dubbed the phenomenon Fevvermania. Everywhere you saw her picture; the shops were crammed with ‘Fevver’s garters, stockings, fans, cigars, shaving soap…She even lent it to a brand of baking powder; if you added a spoonful of the stuff, up in the air went your sponge cake, just as she did. Heroine of the hour, object of learned discussion and profane surmise, this Helen launched a thousand quips, mostly on the lewd side. (‘Have you heard the one about how Fevvers got it up for the traveling salesman…’) Her name was on the lips of all, from duchess to costermonger: ‘Have you seen Fevvers?’ And the: ‘How does she do it?’ And then: Do you think she’s real?’ — Angela Carter
Strong Sense of Place is a website and podcast dedicated to literary travel and books we love. Reading good books increases empathy. Empathy is good for all of us and the amazing world we inhabit.
This is a weekly email. If you'd like a quick alert whenever we update our blog, subscribe here.
We'll share enough detail to help you decide if a book is for you, but we'll never ruin plot twists or give away the ending.
This 30-page 2020 Reading Atlas takes you around the world with dozens of excellent books and gorgeous travel photos. Get your free copy when you subscribe to our newsletter.
Content on this site is © 2020 by Smudge Publishing, unless otherwise noted. Peace be with you, person who reads the small type.