Phoebe Deane - Grace Livingston Hill

I was thrilled to discover that my longtime favourite Marcia Schuyler is actually the first of a trilogy - the Miranda Series, and even more thrilled to realize that www.chapters.indigo.ca has all three books on sale for $3.50 each. Miranda, the scruffy, motormouthed orphan girl whose plain speech belies a keen intelligence, and acts as a guardian angel for the Spaffords in Marcia Schuyler, reappears, much to my delight, in Phoebe Deane. Now the well-loved housekeeper for her dear Spaffords, rather than the despised maid-of-all-work for her grandmother, Miranda keeps a keen eye on the happenings of the village, and works her magic on others she feel deserve her help. In this case, five years after she acted as guardian and matchmaker for the Spaffords, it's Phoebe Deane.

Phoebe Deane, an eighteen-year-old girl living with her timid half-brother Albert and cruel, overbearing sister-in-law Emmaline, feels she has nothing to look forward to in her life but endless drudge work and unwanted marriage suits by unkind, uncaring men. She clings to the few lovely things in her life, including letters from her long-dead mother, and the pretty dresses and gift she was left. A chance encounter in the woods leads her to Nathaniel Graham, a young lawyer who is, against the wishes of his family, drawn to the burgeoning Abolition movement in 1935 New York. The two begin a quiet, clandestine courtship, while crude widower Hiram Green sets his sights on Phoebe, first for her excellent work ethic, and then simply as a power game - he's insulted that he rejects her. Hiram grows crueller and more manipulative in his obsession to possess Phoebe, while she, with the help of trickster Miranda and the kindhearted Marcia Schuyler Spafford, continues her relationship with Nathaniel. As Hiram and Emmaline grow vicious, Miranda must draw on every bit of her courage and wily resourcefulness to help her friend find a happy ending.

I love Miranda. She's reminiscent of another of my favourite heroines - the immortal Anne of Green Gables. Redheaded, orphaned, verbose, and spirited, Miranda has that same sort of spark that draws us to Anne, though she certainly lacks the refinement that Anne gained over time. Though Montgomery and Hill wrote at the same time, Hill's heroine is content to remain in her 'place' - as a servant, while Anne ends up a refined - albeit spirited, society matron. But Miranda is clever. Oh, she is clever, and she's bright enough to use the social conventions of her status - nobody questions an unmarried servant girl scrambling across fields and ducking behind woodsheds - to help the delicate, seemingly helpless young maidens around here.

In a way, I like Phoebe as a heroine better than Marcia, for Phoebe is not as passive. She defends herself against her unkind sister-in-law, and goes on a hunger strike rather than marry the man she does not love. She's even brave enough to jump from a moving wagon. She's also courageous enough to go against the thinking of the time, desire to educate herself, and support her abolitionist suitor though his views are unpopular. The descriptions are not as rich as in Marcia Schuyler, but Miranda fairly sparkles, and Nathaniel Graham, the hero, is presented as a man with both flaws and strengths, and is far more real-thinking than Marcia Schuyler's David Spafford, whose blind, obsessive love for a beautiful, but cruel and selfish woman, nearly destroys his marriage.

Highly recommended.

Marcia Schuyler - Grace Livingston Hill

I know this is a very old book, (published exactly 100 years ago!), but I love it. I first discovered it at my local library, when I needed a break from the Sweet Valley Twins, and I really never went back to those vapid little blond bimbos.

Summary: Sometime in the early nineteenth century, Marcia Schuyler, sweet, unassuming younger sister of the more beautiful, but headstrong and selfish Kate, wakes up the morning of her sister's wedding to realize that her sister has eloped during the night with someone else. Grieved at the thought of her good-hearted, God-fearing brother-in-law suffering embarassment at being abandoned, she agrees to marry him instead. Though just seventeen, Marcia settles into her role as Madam David Spafford, and is treated as a cherished younger sister by her still-grieving husband. Eventually, the two fall in love. Vindictive Kate and a devious man try to drive a wedge between Marcia and David, but true love wins out, and the unjust are justly punished for their crimes.

It seems like a simple story. Almost too simple. My aunties don't like Grace Livingston Hill because the 'good' characters are too good, while the bads are just bad to the bone. But Marcia Schuyler is deeper than that. David Spafford, for all his noble intentions, eventually realizes that he's being an absolute shmuck for loving one sister while being married to another. He also realizes that his love for Kate was built upon shallow obsession, not an actual knowledge of her as a person, with strengths and weaknesses. Though one of the defining features of early twentieth-century fiction is moral ambiguity, Grace Livingston Hill goes against the grain, presenting a clearly defined right and wrong, and many wonderful character lessons within. Miranda, the scatterbrained neighbour girl who befriends the new bride Marcia, incurs the wrath of her grandmother by helping Marcia out on several occasions, but rests quite contentedly in her punishment, virtue being it's own reward. In this day and age, who thinks about that? I love contemporary fiction, but there is little discussion of real, everyday virtue, and I miss it. Good deeds might be rewarded, yes, or even unrewarded, but then the good-doer is allowed to grieve their mistreatment, while Hill simply insists that virtue is it's own reward.

Hill is a master at description. I can see the fluffy white bread, the quivering jellies, the delicate folds of Marcia's pink chintz gown. You will be drawn into this world, and you will love every moment of it.

Highly recommended as a good classic Christian read for a rainy Sunday afternoon. But try to get the newer editions of the book, perhaps the one put out by Barbour in 2000, as the older version contains inappropriate references to race.