I have been a little nervous, waiting for the official reviews to start coming in. Library Journal has this in their current issue. May I just say, whew.

Kowal, Mary Robinette. Glamour in Glass. Tor. Apr. 2012. c.336p. ISBN 9780765325570. $24.99. FANTASY

At the start of 1815, newly married and eager to explore her gifts as a glamourist, Jane Vincent (Shades of Milk and Honey) is pleased with life. A recent glamural, commissioned by the Prince Regent, has provided the Vincents with the funds and status to travel abroad. Their destination is Binché, near Brussels, and the workshop of artisan M. Chastain, where they secretly attempt the groundbreaking work of containing a glamour within glass. But soon Jane’s husband’s erratic behavior and misleading communication leave her feeling unsure of her future. VERDICT This sequel to Kowal’s Nebula Award–nominated debut continues to build a historically recognizable world made anew by the addition of “glamour.” The focus remains on Jane’s internal struggle to find a satisfying balance between society’s restrictions and the person she’d like to be, endearing her further to series fans. Espionage and tangled feelings over family create a nice sense of mystery and provide great action and drama. Prepare to settle in and snuggle up in your comfiest chair; once you start reading, you won’t want to stop.—Stacey Hayman, Rocky River P.L., OH

The current Battersea Bridge crosses the Thames and is an iron structure. In the days of The Glamourist Histories, it was still a wooden bridge and the oldest remaining wooden bridge crossing the Thames. This painting is from 1840, so twenty-five years after the events in Glamour in Glass, but looking very much the same. It does give you a sense of how much more rustic certain parts of London were.

An excerpt from Glamour in Glass

The following morning, Jane rose with the intention of visiting her family before their mutual journeys separated them. Vincent declined the opportunity to accompany her, saying that he wanted to paint the Battersea Bridge and catch the morning light. After the fi asco of the previous evening, Jane could hardly blame him for wanting to escape under the thinnest pretence.

I have just realized that Jane, from Shades of Milk and Honey should participate in the Month of Letters Challenge. So, she is.

If you want to write to her, address correspondence to:

Mrs. David Vincent
P.O. Box 13346
Portland, OR 97213-0346

I will tell you, as a teaser, that she will be writing back to you with an actual quill pen on a writing slope from the 1800s. The letters will be “Real time” for her in that they will be coming from February, 1815. This means that they will contain references to the first chapters of Glamour in Glass and definite spoilers from Shades of Milk and Honey.

As you might imagine, we’ll be meeting some new characters in Glamour in Glass. Allow me to introduce you to one of them, or at least to her dress.

When Jane was introduced to Mme Meynard, she had a moment of coveting the belle’s beautiful Pomona green gown with blond lace embellishments.

The original dress was Published in Ackermann’s Repository of Arts, September 1815 and described thus:

A white satin slip, worn under a dress made in pomona green French gauze, terminating at the feet with a full flounce of blond lace, headed with a double border of the same, gathered in full, and confined with folds of satin, of corresponding colour to the dress; handkerchief-front, trimmed with white satin, and a falling collar of blond lace; long sleeve of white satin, the fulness upon the shoulder confined under an epaulet of the French gauze, trimmed with white satin; the sleeve drawn alternately across the arm with the pomona green satin ribbon. Long white sash of white satin, tied in front.
The ends of the hind hair brought forward, to fall in ringlets over the temple, confined with a plain white satin ribbon, and ornamented with a tiara of pearl. Necklace to correspond. Gloves, French kid. Slippers, white satin.

Today’s preview does not contain a description of the dress, but the circumstances in which one would wear such item.

The January wind whipped off the coast and lifted sails and skirts alike. Despite the chill, Jane stood at the rail of the Dolphin, feeling as if a series of stays were releasing their laces with each length they moved away from the shore.

So what does one wear aboard a ship? A carriage dress like this would meet your needs while traveling.

In Shades of Milk and Honey, when Jane first sees the professional glamourist, Mr. Vincent, she describes him as, “Tall, and very broad of chest. His hair was chestnut and curled about his head like Bacon’s portrait of Jean- Baptiste Isabey.”

In Glamour in Glass, we see him again.

His brown curls were tousled in the fashionable wind- swept look which so many men struggled to attain, but which came naturally to him.He swept his hands through his hair so much, knotting them in place while he thought, that it was permanently dishevelled.

Note the word wind-swept? It is one of three places I knowingly cheated with the language. That word does not get coined until 1932, but the description for the hairstyle from the period was… not particularly helpful to a modern reader.

Would you have known what I meant by the “frightened owl” hairstyle?

Hey, there’s a quiz about Shades of Milk and Honey over at Goodreads. How well do you remember the book? It’s only ten questions long!

Take the Shades of Milk and Honey quiz.

Today’s visual teaser for Glamour in Glass is another room in Carlton House.

After the overt glamour of the ballroom, the Blue Room seemed positively staid, though it was appointed in the best manner. The walls were covered in blue damask, which matched the upholstery. Gilt frames bordered the walls, with cleverly rendered oysters on the half shell in each corner. By the very absence of glamour, the Prince Regent displayed his taste and means here as much as in the ballroom, because everything from the elaborate carpet to the massive crystal chandelier was real.

Real gold gilded the arms of the chairs. Real candles stood in the sconces instead of fairy lights, so rather than the faint glow of glamoured light, the room truly was bright and airy.

The only glamour in the room adorned the ceiling, which had a glamural of sky and clouds drifting in a simple repeating pattern. The clouds circled the chandelier so that the crystals would not catch and diff ract their glamoured folds. The effect seemed one part dance, one part storm— very like life at court itself.

When I was researching the Prince Regent’s set, I ran across Sir Lumley St. George Skeffington who went by the nickname “Skiffy.”

Skiffy

How could I not use him?

Skiffy was a baronet and a playwright who had some success with his play “The Sleeping Beauty” but was cheifly known for being a dandy.

The Letter Bag of Lady Elizabeth Stanhope includes this account of him.

`He,’ Gronow mentions, ‘used to paint his face like a French toy. He dressed d la Robespierre and practised other follies, although the consummate old fop was a man of literary attainments, remarkable for his politeness and courtly manners, in fact, he was invited everywhere. You always knew of his approach by an avant courier (sic) of sweet smells, and as he advanced a little nearer, you might suppose yourself in the atmosphere of a barber’s shop.’”

I had a good deal of fun including Skiffy.

Here is an engraving of what he is supposed to have looked like. Of the real Sir Lumley, we have an account by John Stanhope:

Poor Skeffington was the Dandy of the day, par excellence. Remarkable for his ugliness, his dress was so exaggerated as to render his lack of beauty the more marked. He was a very goodnatured man, and had nothing of the impertinence of manner of the fops who succeeded him. Moreover, he was a bel-esprit, writing epilogues and prologues, and was at one time the observed of all observers. I have seen him at an assembly literally surrounded by a group of admiring ladies.

And how does he fare in Glamour in Glass?

“Oh! Horrid. Horrid, I tell you. I have never seen a man with less understanding of the nature of cloth than he displays. Why, did you know that I went in on the recommendation of a friend, whose advice I shall not favour henceforth, and M. Lecomte had the temerity to suggest superfine cloth? To me?” He took out a perfumed handkerchief and patted his forehead. “I turned on my heel and left without another sign. It was clear he was not current.”

This is one of my favorite dresses in the Glamourist Histories, so I wanted to show it to you. It appears in Shades of Milk and Honey  and belongs to Miss Dunkirk.

She offered Miss Dunkirk her arm and led her to a bolt of white lawn, the fabric most appropriate to a debutante. Then Jane suggested a deep green velvet which she thought might set off Miss Dunkirk’s hair to advantage…  Between the two of them, they selected a lace which complemented the cloth as well.

The original dress is from Ackermann’s Repository of Arts, the March 1814 edition.

A white crape, or fine muslin petticoat, worn over white satin, embroidered in silver lama round the bottom. A bodice of olive or spring-green satin, ornamented with a silver stomacher. Short, full sleeve, and rounded bosom, trimmed with a full silver border to correspond. A fan frill of fluted lace, continued round the back, and terminating in front at the corner of the bosom. A silver fringe round the bottom of the waist. The hair in irregular curls in front, falling low on each side, drawn smoothly on the crown of the head, and brought in a small bunch of curls at the back. A bandeau of pearl, twisted round the curls behind. Necklace and cross of pearl eardrops, and bracelets to correspond. Occasional scarf of white silk, richly embroidered in silver and coloured silks. Gloves of white kid. Slippers of green satin, with silver rosettes.

Just to be clear, when they refer to “a fine muslin petticoat” they aren’t talking about modern muslin. In the Regency muslin could be so fine as to be translucent, like this example of a hand-embroidered Regency dress. See how the paper shows through it? (Here are more photos of this lovely extant dress.)

It is always a bit unnerving to use real historical figures in fiction, especially someone as well-known as The Prince Regent. Because the Regency period is named after him, it is easy to think that he was an admirable figure in the same way that Queen Victoria was. Alas…

He was regarded as self-indulgent, extravagant, and an adulterer. With good reason, since he made no secret of his mistresses and was constantly living well beyond his means to the point of needing to ask Parliament for more money. He spent 10,000 pounds per anum just on clothing.

He was, however, a great patron of the arts and encouraged much of the look of the Regency period. Among the people he was a fan of was Jane Austen.

The admiration was not returned. In a letter to Martha Lloyd, Miss Austen wrote:

“I suppose all the World is sitting in Judgement upon the Princess of Wales’s Letter. Poor woman, I shall support her as long as I can, because she is a Woman, & because I hate her Husband — but I can hardly forgive her for calling herself “attached & affectionate” to a Man whom she must detest — & the intimacy said to subsist between her & Lady Oxford is bad — I do not know what to do about it; but if I must give up the Princess, I am resolved at least always to think that she would have been respectable, if the Prince had behaved only tolerably by her at first. –”

So how does he appear in Glamour in Glass?

The Prince Regent smiled and patted her hand where it lay on the dark blue cloth of his sleeve.

The portrait above is from 1814, the year that Shades of Milk and Honey, takes place. Glamour in Glass begins on December 30, 1814 so he would look very much like that.

In this mixed media figure, you get a sense of how he would appear in the style popularized by Beau Brummell. Buckskin trousers and a blue coat.

Smiling, the Prince Regent adjusted the sleeve of his
coat, which was, Jane was startled to note, cut from superfine cloth. ¹

For further reading on gentlemen’s fashion, may I recommend Between a Gentleman and His Tailor

Today’s teaser for Glamour in Glass is a scenic location. The Carlton House Red drawing room, which appears in Chapter 1.

As the Prince Regent led her out of the Red Room, Jane felt all the eyes of those assembled fall upon her, and under their gaze the unequal nature of her station magnified.

The Carlton House was the Prince Regent’s London residence. It was a magnificent building that showed his fondness for sumptuous elegance.  The history of the royal residences by William Henry Pyne (London: 1819) describes this room as:

On entering this spacious apartment, the eye is agreeably struck with the happy combination of splendid materials tastefully arranged; consisting of a profusion of rich draperies, large pier glasses, grand chandeliers of brilliant cut glass, massive furniture richly gilt, candelabra, tripods, bronzes, elegant vases, and other corresponding decorations, displaying at once the improved taste of the arts and manufactures of Great Britain. To these are added some valuable original pictures by English and foreign masters.

Yesterday, I showed you a sneak peek of Glamour in Glass through a picture of Jane’s dove grey silk dress. She thought it seemed dingy by comparison… to what?

To this dress.

The dove silk which had seemed so fine when
she had commissioned it last summer now seemed dingy by comparison to gowns such as Lady Hertford’s rich claret velvet, which had long sleeves slashed to allow glimpses of a cloth of silver.

This painting is actually Jane, Lady Munro by Sir Martin Archer Shee but I thought it was lovely and gave it to Lady Hertford.

Lady Hertford is a historical figure who I am using in Glamour in Glass. In fact, unlike Shades of Milk and Honey, I use a number of real people and places.

What did the real Lady Hertford look like?

At her side now stood the inimitable Lady Hertford, who also gazed at the painting. This celebrated beauty’s very presence lent the room an additional elegance. Her claret velvet dress might have been chosen as a deliberate complement to the blue walls. The line of her neck would have been a welcome subject for any artist.

In three months, Glamour in Glass, will hit the book stores. The first chapter is in the trade paperback of Shades of Milk and Honey, so you’ve already had a little bit of a teaser. Since one of the things that attracts me to the Regency are the pretty, pretty clothes, I’m going to offer you pictorial teasers over the next twelve weeks.

Of what? You’ll get a picture of a dress and the line that accompanies it.

This is Jane’s dress from Shades of Milk and Honey. It appeared in that novel like this:

“Her fingers danced in the air, pulling folds together in a small simulacrum of Jane. This tiny manikin wore Jane’s beloved dove silk, but with a open pelisse of the pink. A high waist with a sash of that same pale pink gave the illusion of height and slenderness to her figure. Softening Jane’s face, Madame Beaulieu had added a turban à la Oriental which cupped her hair with cunningly wrought silk roses. A simple shawl completed the picture with elegant grace.”

How does it fare in Glamour in Glass?

The dove silk which had seemed so fine when she had commissioned it last summer now seemed dingy by comparison…

I hope your holiday is bright and enjoyable. This is a short story which takes place between Shades of Milk and Honey and Glamour in Glass. Last year I wrote about Christmastide with the Ellsworths.

This year’s short story takes place the next morning and is our newlyweds’ first Christmas morning together. I’ve hidden it below, since it has an unavoidable spoiler by telling you who gets married at the end of Shades of Milk and Honey. I trust that the fact that matrimony ensues is not a surprise…

I will also tell you that Glamour in Glass begins four days after this story takes place. Alas, you have to wait until April to read it. Meanwhile, I wish you a Very Happy Christmas.