Kathleen Marple Kalb's Blog, page 7
May 15, 2024
LET YOUR HAIR DOWN
Never mind the glimpse of stocking…a 19th century woman could do something much more shocking: take down her hair.
Of course, by that time, women had been wearing their long hair pulled back in some way for millennia. Sometimes it was in braids, usually covered by a hood or a veil, as you’ve seen in medieval and Renaissance art. But by the Victorian era, adult women usually wore their hair up in some kind of knot, more or less elaborate or puffy depending on the lady and the situation.
Even braids, worn down and not pinned up into knot or crown, were unusual. Many, if not all, women wore their hair loosely braided for sleep, so a loose braid was associated with the bedroom…and you don’t need Queen Victoria to tell you anything that made people think about THAT was a no-no.
Speaking of Queen Victoria, there’s a famous Winterhalter painting of her with her hair falling down. Famous now, that is. She had it made for Prince Albert’s 24th birthday, during the early romantic years of their marriage, and for more than a century, no one outside the Royal Family saw it. The painting, and all it represented, were supposed to stay a secret between the couple.
Because hair down is sexy. Even in our liberated world, the sight of a woman (or man, for that matter) with lots of silky, shiny hair falling around is a very appealing thing. Far more so in a world where it was an event to see a female ankle. The illustrations of the time suggest that male artists, at least, spent an awful lot of time fantasizing about women letting their hair down for them.
No wonder. We’re wired that way. You can look up the studies if you’re into that, but scientists have found that long, shiny hair reads to our primate brains as a sign of a healthy reproductive partner. Brains of all genders, I might add, which explains why many ladies like those costume dramas where guys run around with flowing locks.
With all of that going on, it’s no surprise that adult women in the very repressed 1800s kept their crowning glory under control. “Hair up, skirts down,” was the public announcement that a girl in her late teens was an adult. We’d now consider it more than a little sexist, but both meant that she was no longer a child, and therefore someone whose long hair and legs might arouse the wrong kind of interest.
All of that – and more – is in the room in one of my favorite scenes between Ella and her swain, the Duke, in their second outing, A FATAL FIRST NIGHT. They haven’t seen each other in a while, and they mark the happy reunion with a fencing match. That would be enough subtext, but Ella’s hair comes loose toward the end, spilling in strawberry-blonde waves. After she gives him a draw (and he knows it!) he stares at her for a moment, realizing that he’s never seen her hair down before.
They were already strongly attracted to each other, but that moment seals the deal for him. Of course, it took two more books (and a few murders, plots, and scams) for them to get together. And now, in their next adventure – which I’m currently writing – he takes advantage of marital privilege and brushes her hair while they puzzle out the next mystery!
Got an idea for a #ThrowbacThursday post? Drop it in the comments!
Of course, by that time, women had been wearing their long hair pulled back in some way for millennia. Sometimes it was in braids, usually covered by a hood or a veil, as you’ve seen in medieval and Renaissance art. But by the Victorian era, adult women usually wore their hair up in some kind of knot, more or less elaborate or puffy depending on the lady and the situation.
Even braids, worn down and not pinned up into knot or crown, were unusual. Many, if not all, women wore their hair loosely braided for sleep, so a loose braid was associated with the bedroom…and you don’t need Queen Victoria to tell you anything that made people think about THAT was a no-no.
Speaking of Queen Victoria, there’s a famous Winterhalter painting of her with her hair falling down. Famous now, that is. She had it made for Prince Albert’s 24th birthday, during the early romantic years of their marriage, and for more than a century, no one outside the Royal Family saw it. The painting, and all it represented, were supposed to stay a secret between the couple.
Because hair down is sexy. Even in our liberated world, the sight of a woman (or man, for that matter) with lots of silky, shiny hair falling around is a very appealing thing. Far more so in a world where it was an event to see a female ankle. The illustrations of the time suggest that male artists, at least, spent an awful lot of time fantasizing about women letting their hair down for them.
No wonder. We’re wired that way. You can look up the studies if you’re into that, but scientists have found that long, shiny hair reads to our primate brains as a sign of a healthy reproductive partner. Brains of all genders, I might add, which explains why many ladies like those costume dramas where guys run around with flowing locks.
With all of that going on, it’s no surprise that adult women in the very repressed 1800s kept their crowning glory under control. “Hair up, skirts down,” was the public announcement that a girl in her late teens was an adult. We’d now consider it more than a little sexist, but both meant that she was no longer a child, and therefore someone whose long hair and legs might arouse the wrong kind of interest.
All of that – and more – is in the room in one of my favorite scenes between Ella and her swain, the Duke, in their second outing, A FATAL FIRST NIGHT. They haven’t seen each other in a while, and they mark the happy reunion with a fencing match. That would be enough subtext, but Ella’s hair comes loose toward the end, spilling in strawberry-blonde waves. After she gives him a draw (and he knows it!) he stares at her for a moment, realizing that he’s never seen her hair down before.
They were already strongly attracted to each other, but that moment seals the deal for him. Of course, it took two more books (and a few murders, plots, and scams) for them to get together. And now, in their next adventure – which I’m currently writing – he takes advantage of marital privilege and brushes her hair while they puzzle out the next mystery!
Got an idea for a #ThrowbacThursday post? Drop it in the comments!
May 8, 2024
A VERY FRANK TALK
“Your man will tell you what you need to know on your wedding night.”
There are still plenty of women alive today who were sent into adult life with that one-sentence sex talk. Possibly accompanied by the comment that no good woman wants or needs to know more.
In June of 1900, Ella Shane, a professional woman in her 30s, who’s spent her career playing men on stage, would still go into her own marriage with the same woeful ignorance, if her Aunt Ellen has her way. It’s high Victorian mores at their highest, combined with Irish immigrant respectability, and it’s not just about Ella. It’s also about her family: by delivering an innocent bride to the altar, they’re upholding their honor and social status.
The Victorians, of course, weren’t the first to place great importance on virgin brides. That’s been around as long as there’s been patriarchy – and probably before. In earlier times, when marriage was a property rather than a personal matter, the issue was more about delivering the goods in the best condition for the job: continuing the undisputed genetic line of her new family.
Even so, there are hints in the historical record that people were a bit less hung up on the rules: researchers have discovered a significant number of Colonial couples welcomed their first child within just a few months of marriage. And from at least the medieval period, it was common for couples to start living as husband and wife after a betrothal ceremony, even if it wasn’t followed by a wedding for some time – possibly not until a child was on the way.
Where the Victorians really set new standards was in the idea of “sheltering” young women. In other words, keeping them in absolute ignorance of not only sex, but the workings of their own bodies. Young women were given the bare minimum amount of information about menstruation, and sometimes not even that. It’s clear from memoirs, fiction, and family stories that any number of girls thought they were dying the first time their “monthly visitor” arrived, instead of understanding it as a normal, natural process.
And forget about the opposite sex.
In a world where piano “limbs” were covered to avoid indelicacy, girls were pointedly steered away from classical statues, fig leaves or not. They had little or no idea what a male body looked like. Many arrived at their marriage aware only that their husbands would have “demands,” but entirely uncertain about what those demands might be.
Ella Shane would be one of them, if not for a very frank talk with her doctor. By 1900, the idea that women should go into marriage with a basic understanding of the facts of life has started to catch on in progressive circles. Dr. Edith Silver, Ella’s physician, is definitely part of that school of thought.
So, even though Aunt Ellen doesn’t approve, Ella has a sit-down with Dr. Silver in the run-up to the wedding. Unfortunately, there’s another frank talk she needs to have: with her future husband, who’s getting the innocent bride every Victorian man wants…and is absolutely terrified! You’ll have to read A FATAL OVERTURE to see how that works out!
Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Drop it in the comments!
There are still plenty of women alive today who were sent into adult life with that one-sentence sex talk. Possibly accompanied by the comment that no good woman wants or needs to know more.
In June of 1900, Ella Shane, a professional woman in her 30s, who’s spent her career playing men on stage, would still go into her own marriage with the same woeful ignorance, if her Aunt Ellen has her way. It’s high Victorian mores at their highest, combined with Irish immigrant respectability, and it’s not just about Ella. It’s also about her family: by delivering an innocent bride to the altar, they’re upholding their honor and social status.
The Victorians, of course, weren’t the first to place great importance on virgin brides. That’s been around as long as there’s been patriarchy – and probably before. In earlier times, when marriage was a property rather than a personal matter, the issue was more about delivering the goods in the best condition for the job: continuing the undisputed genetic line of her new family.
Even so, there are hints in the historical record that people were a bit less hung up on the rules: researchers have discovered a significant number of Colonial couples welcomed their first child within just a few months of marriage. And from at least the medieval period, it was common for couples to start living as husband and wife after a betrothal ceremony, even if it wasn’t followed by a wedding for some time – possibly not until a child was on the way.
Where the Victorians really set new standards was in the idea of “sheltering” young women. In other words, keeping them in absolute ignorance of not only sex, but the workings of their own bodies. Young women were given the bare minimum amount of information about menstruation, and sometimes not even that. It’s clear from memoirs, fiction, and family stories that any number of girls thought they were dying the first time their “monthly visitor” arrived, instead of understanding it as a normal, natural process.
And forget about the opposite sex.
In a world where piano “limbs” were covered to avoid indelicacy, girls were pointedly steered away from classical statues, fig leaves or not. They had little or no idea what a male body looked like. Many arrived at their marriage aware only that their husbands would have “demands,” but entirely uncertain about what those demands might be.
Ella Shane would be one of them, if not for a very frank talk with her doctor. By 1900, the idea that women should go into marriage with a basic understanding of the facts of life has started to catch on in progressive circles. Dr. Edith Silver, Ella’s physician, is definitely part of that school of thought.
So, even though Aunt Ellen doesn’t approve, Ella has a sit-down with Dr. Silver in the run-up to the wedding. Unfortunately, there’s another frank talk she needs to have: with her future husband, who’s getting the innocent bride every Victorian man wants…and is absolutely terrified! You’ll have to read A FATAL OVERTURE to see how that works out!
Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Drop it in the comments!
May 1, 2024
ALONE AT LAST
In a world where women and men work together every day, it’s rare to even think twice about being alone with a colleague of another gender. Usually, we only notice it if there’s a reason, whether innocent or – occasionally – inappropriate.
But in the 19th century, men and women who were not either married or related to each other would not have been alone together in a room without considerable risk to their reputations. BOTH their reputations, by the way.
While chaperonage wasn’t as strict as it might have been in earlier centuries, women, whether married or unmarried, were still expected to be extremely cautious about their behavior, and anyone in charge of them was expected to keep a good eye on the proprieties. By the late 19th century, it extended to the work environment, as women moved into offices and factories.
Early factories, like the New England mills, made a strong point of assuring parents their daughters would be well supervised. With time, the emphasis faded, but it was still very clear a “respectable” employer would never allow a male boss to be alone with a young female worker.
The same applied to the young lady clerks and typists who were starting to take jobs in offices. Their bosses would have been carefully formal, and rigorously avoided being alone with them. Part of it was the simple fact men weren’t entirely sure how to deal with female co-workers. They hadn’t had them before, after all!
By the way, it wasn’t only out of a desire to protect the ladies’ reputations. Victorians were exceedingly concerned with virtue and respectability for men, too. A “bad reputation” would not be the same kind of social death for a man as a woman, but a man who could not be trusted with women could not be trusted in other areas, either.
These mores are very much in play for Ella Shane. She’s a woman who has made a successful life for herself in a respectable opera career, to be sure, but one who plays men on stage and hasn’t troubled to marry. So, it’s not just for love and companionship that she lives with her cousin Tommy Hurley – or he with her.
He provides her with the appropriate male protector a woman is expected to have. She provides him with a reason for not being married, so people don’t, as Ella puts it “ask questions they don’t really want answered.” Modern readers figure out pretty quickly Tommy is gay, and it’s simply not discussed in his world. (Tommy’s orientation and his life are a whole different #ThrowbackThursday post!)
Everywhere Ella goes, she’s with either Tommy, her dresser Anna, or later, her lady’s-maid, Rosa.
In their first outing, A FATAL FINALE, the Duke visits Ella in her dressing room, and they have a very personal conversation about the murder – and other things. During the editing process, someone asked me if Anna should be in the room. I assured them not only should Anna be there, she had to be. Neither Ella, nor the Duke, would ever risk being alone together, especially not in such an obvious place as her dressing room.
Fast-forward to A FATAL RECEPTION, where Ella and Gil are left truly alone together for the first time, days before their wedding. It’s odd, and awkward, despite the love and bond between them…and sets up some fun, and slightly cringey bedroom comedy moments.
More about the bedroom, and the comedy, in next week’s post!
Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Drop it in the comments.
But in the 19th century, men and women who were not either married or related to each other would not have been alone together in a room without considerable risk to their reputations. BOTH their reputations, by the way.
While chaperonage wasn’t as strict as it might have been in earlier centuries, women, whether married or unmarried, were still expected to be extremely cautious about their behavior, and anyone in charge of them was expected to keep a good eye on the proprieties. By the late 19th century, it extended to the work environment, as women moved into offices and factories.
Early factories, like the New England mills, made a strong point of assuring parents their daughters would be well supervised. With time, the emphasis faded, but it was still very clear a “respectable” employer would never allow a male boss to be alone with a young female worker.
The same applied to the young lady clerks and typists who were starting to take jobs in offices. Their bosses would have been carefully formal, and rigorously avoided being alone with them. Part of it was the simple fact men weren’t entirely sure how to deal with female co-workers. They hadn’t had them before, after all!
By the way, it wasn’t only out of a desire to protect the ladies’ reputations. Victorians were exceedingly concerned with virtue and respectability for men, too. A “bad reputation” would not be the same kind of social death for a man as a woman, but a man who could not be trusted with women could not be trusted in other areas, either.
These mores are very much in play for Ella Shane. She’s a woman who has made a successful life for herself in a respectable opera career, to be sure, but one who plays men on stage and hasn’t troubled to marry. So, it’s not just for love and companionship that she lives with her cousin Tommy Hurley – or he with her.
He provides her with the appropriate male protector a woman is expected to have. She provides him with a reason for not being married, so people don’t, as Ella puts it “ask questions they don’t really want answered.” Modern readers figure out pretty quickly Tommy is gay, and it’s simply not discussed in his world. (Tommy’s orientation and his life are a whole different #ThrowbackThursday post!)
Everywhere Ella goes, she’s with either Tommy, her dresser Anna, or later, her lady’s-maid, Rosa.
In their first outing, A FATAL FINALE, the Duke visits Ella in her dressing room, and they have a very personal conversation about the murder – and other things. During the editing process, someone asked me if Anna should be in the room. I assured them not only should Anna be there, she had to be. Neither Ella, nor the Duke, would ever risk being alone together, especially not in such an obvious place as her dressing room.
Fast-forward to A FATAL RECEPTION, where Ella and Gil are left truly alone together for the first time, days before their wedding. It’s odd, and awkward, despite the love and bond between them…and sets up some fun, and slightly cringey bedroom comedy moments.
More about the bedroom, and the comedy, in next week’s post!
Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Drop it in the comments.
April 24, 2024
SWORD PLAY
Sword fighting isn’t just an adventure for Ella Shane. It’s her job.
And once the Duke is on the scene, it’s a whole new game. A very exciting one, as their relationship develops.
As a woman who plays heroic male roles in opera, Ella has to be able to duel with the best of them. If it happens to come in handy when trying to catch a killer, or discourage an overly enthusiastic admirer, well, that’s just a fringe benefit.
While Ella, as a woman who sings roles originally written for men with artificially high voices (another story for another #ThrowbackThursday!) is relatively new, she’s part of a very long tradition of stage combat. Actors have been simulating battles onstage pretty much since we’ve had stages, and they’ve been training to fight convincingly and safely almost as long.
By Shakespeare’s time, when sword fights were pretty much a requirement for a good show, they’d mastered the convincing part, as audiences could attest. They were still working on the safety, though – several actors were seriously hurt in stage or rehearsal mishaps in the period, and at least one lost an eye.
That, obviously, wasn’t good for anyone, and as the acting profession evolved, so did the training for the stage, with the understanding that what works in a real duel might not work in a show. After all, a real duelist is trying to kill their opponent, not please an audience.
So, stage fighters focus on what looks and sounds good, while still keeping the performers and audience safe. The look and style evolved over time, and by the late-19th century there were even widely-known set fights called “standard combats.” A director could call for the “Round Eights” in a scene and the company would know exactly what was desired.
While it was usually male actors who did the actual fighting in front of an audience, women were often trained in the art. Stage fencing was part of the curriculum in some top theatre academies into the 20th century; so it’s entirely possible that many Juliets not only knew the choreography of Romeo’s duel…they could have done it better!
Ella, a stage fighter by trade, and a street fighter from childhood, enjoys a good duel onstage or off. It’s no surprise she makes the Duke fence with her when they meet in A FATAL FINALE.
It’s also no surprise their friendly fencing matches develop new resonance as their romance moves forward. The fencing becomes a socially acceptable but very highly-charged way for the two of them to act out their feelings.
While neither of them would ever express it this way, by the time of A FATAL RECEPTION, the fencing matches are clearly a substitute for the marital privileges they aren’t yet enjoying. Days before the wedding, they square off one last time as an engaged couple…and you’ll have to read the book to see what happens!
Got a Throwback Thursday idea? Drop it in the comments!
And once the Duke is on the scene, it’s a whole new game. A very exciting one, as their relationship develops.
As a woman who plays heroic male roles in opera, Ella has to be able to duel with the best of them. If it happens to come in handy when trying to catch a killer, or discourage an overly enthusiastic admirer, well, that’s just a fringe benefit.
While Ella, as a woman who sings roles originally written for men with artificially high voices (another story for another #ThrowbackThursday!) is relatively new, she’s part of a very long tradition of stage combat. Actors have been simulating battles onstage pretty much since we’ve had stages, and they’ve been training to fight convincingly and safely almost as long.
By Shakespeare’s time, when sword fights were pretty much a requirement for a good show, they’d mastered the convincing part, as audiences could attest. They were still working on the safety, though – several actors were seriously hurt in stage or rehearsal mishaps in the period, and at least one lost an eye.
That, obviously, wasn’t good for anyone, and as the acting profession evolved, so did the training for the stage, with the understanding that what works in a real duel might not work in a show. After all, a real duelist is trying to kill their opponent, not please an audience.
So, stage fighters focus on what looks and sounds good, while still keeping the performers and audience safe. The look and style evolved over time, and by the late-19th century there were even widely-known set fights called “standard combats.” A director could call for the “Round Eights” in a scene and the company would know exactly what was desired.
While it was usually male actors who did the actual fighting in front of an audience, women were often trained in the art. Stage fencing was part of the curriculum in some top theatre academies into the 20th century; so it’s entirely possible that many Juliets not only knew the choreography of Romeo’s duel…they could have done it better!
Ella, a stage fighter by trade, and a street fighter from childhood, enjoys a good duel onstage or off. It’s no surprise she makes the Duke fence with her when they meet in A FATAL FINALE.
It’s also no surprise their friendly fencing matches develop new resonance as their romance moves forward. The fencing becomes a socially acceptable but very highly-charged way for the two of them to act out their feelings.
While neither of them would ever express it this way, by the time of A FATAL RECEPTION, the fencing matches are clearly a substitute for the marital privileges they aren’t yet enjoying. Days before the wedding, they square off one last time as an engaged couple…and you’ll have to read the book to see what happens!
Got a Throwback Thursday idea? Drop it in the comments!
April 17, 2024
WHAT'S IN A NAME?
A woman’s name, even now, isn’t just about her. In the 19th century, when women were legally their men’s property, it was more an announcement of who she belonged to, than who she was.
Not Ella Shane, though.
The name she was given – and the one she chose – are very much about her, her time…and how I built her character. She was born Ellen O’Shaughnessy, to Frank and Malka “Molly” Steinmetz O’Shaughnessy on the Lower East Side on July 23rd, 1865, and took the stage name Ella Shane in her late teens when she made her debut as a mezzo-soprano specializing in trouser roles. That’s the easy part.
What’s behind those names is a bit more complicated.
From the time my swashbuckling opera singer main character came to me, I thought of her as Ella, which was weird. While it’s a classic Gilded Age woman’s name, it’s not one of my favorites. And it just didn’t feel like a real name.
But Ellen, that’s somebody you might know. It was my grandfather’s mother’s name (and my own original middle name), so I knew it was just fine for an Irish woman in the late 19th century. People were also much more likely to choose family names for children back then, so it made sense for Ella to be named for her father’s favorite sister, the aunt who later takes in the orphaned girl.
It also set up a perfect nickname from her beloved cousin Tommy: “Heller.”
What about a last name, though?
I actually got the Shane before the O’Shaughnessy. I liked the idea that eventually the Duke would call her by her last name, as if she were a male friend. A great way to show that he thinks of her as an equal…and that she’s special to him.
All that was left was finding a very Irish name that could be shortened to Shane. Not much more obviously Irish than O’Shaughnessy! While the worst of the anti-Irish prejudice had eased by the time Ella started her career, it was still a bad idea for a performer to carry an identifiably ethnic name, especially in an elevated field like opera. In the late 1800s, we’re still more than a century before people start taking pride and joy in their diversity, and Ella would not have seen changing her name as turning her back on her family. It was just part of the job.
It was also a family tradition. In Ella’s second adventure, A FATAL FIRST NIGHT, we learn her mother, Malka Steinmetz, left Immigration with a new name for her new life: Molly. And she was far from the first.
Officials often had a hard time pronouncing or spelling any names that sounded “foreign” to them, and didn’t much care about respecting the people they were processing. There are plenty of families who will tell you that first, and often last names were one thing before Ellis Island, and something else entirely after.
So Ella carries a lot of history with her, whatever she’s calling herself at a given moment. In the climactic duel on the catwalk in A FATAL FINALE (it’s not a spoiler to say she’s squaring off against the killer), there’s a “Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon” moment: she meets her opponent’s gaze, draws herself up, and says “I’m Malka O’Shaughnessy’s daughter, and proud of it.”
Later, in A FATAL OVERTURE, when the Duke proposes, he adds her Hebrew name, Meira bat Malka, to her stage and birth names, signaling that he wants all of her. And, in A FATAL RECEPTION, Ella will have to settle on a new name…or two!
Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Leave it in the comments!
Not Ella Shane, though.
The name she was given – and the one she chose – are very much about her, her time…and how I built her character. She was born Ellen O’Shaughnessy, to Frank and Malka “Molly” Steinmetz O’Shaughnessy on the Lower East Side on July 23rd, 1865, and took the stage name Ella Shane in her late teens when she made her debut as a mezzo-soprano specializing in trouser roles. That’s the easy part.
What’s behind those names is a bit more complicated.
From the time my swashbuckling opera singer main character came to me, I thought of her as Ella, which was weird. While it’s a classic Gilded Age woman’s name, it’s not one of my favorites. And it just didn’t feel like a real name.
But Ellen, that’s somebody you might know. It was my grandfather’s mother’s name (and my own original middle name), so I knew it was just fine for an Irish woman in the late 19th century. People were also much more likely to choose family names for children back then, so it made sense for Ella to be named for her father’s favorite sister, the aunt who later takes in the orphaned girl.
It also set up a perfect nickname from her beloved cousin Tommy: “Heller.”
What about a last name, though?
I actually got the Shane before the O’Shaughnessy. I liked the idea that eventually the Duke would call her by her last name, as if she were a male friend. A great way to show that he thinks of her as an equal…and that she’s special to him.
All that was left was finding a very Irish name that could be shortened to Shane. Not much more obviously Irish than O’Shaughnessy! While the worst of the anti-Irish prejudice had eased by the time Ella started her career, it was still a bad idea for a performer to carry an identifiably ethnic name, especially in an elevated field like opera. In the late 1800s, we’re still more than a century before people start taking pride and joy in their diversity, and Ella would not have seen changing her name as turning her back on her family. It was just part of the job.
It was also a family tradition. In Ella’s second adventure, A FATAL FIRST NIGHT, we learn her mother, Malka Steinmetz, left Immigration with a new name for her new life: Molly. And she was far from the first.
Officials often had a hard time pronouncing or spelling any names that sounded “foreign” to them, and didn’t much care about respecting the people they were processing. There are plenty of families who will tell you that first, and often last names were one thing before Ellis Island, and something else entirely after.
So Ella carries a lot of history with her, whatever she’s calling herself at a given moment. In the climactic duel on the catwalk in A FATAL FINALE (it’s not a spoiler to say she’s squaring off against the killer), there’s a “Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon” moment: she meets her opponent’s gaze, draws herself up, and says “I’m Malka O’Shaughnessy’s daughter, and proud of it.”
Later, in A FATAL OVERTURE, when the Duke proposes, he adds her Hebrew name, Meira bat Malka, to her stage and birth names, signaling that he wants all of her. And, in A FATAL RECEPTION, Ella will have to settle on a new name…or two!
Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Leave it in the comments!
April 10, 2024
A NEW CHARM
Ella Shane’s first present on her wedding day is a new charm for her bracelet, closing a circle that began three books ago in her first adventure with the Duke.
The bracelet is far more than a fashion statement.
It’s part of thousands of years of tradition…and a very specific class statement for our Lower East side orphan made good.
Remnants of charm bracelets have been found in prehistoric sites, and the ancient Assyrians and others wore strings of various amulets. Back then, it was a charm in the magical sense: an object offering protection from some kind of harm.
While the magical meaning faded with time, the idea of wearing something in an easily visible place to carry an important memory or message is a very popular one, so it never really faded away, even if it took different forms, depending on fashion.
Modern charm bracelet fans can thank – guess who? – Queen Victoria, for making them really popular. Pictures of the Grandmother of Europe from various stages of her life clearly show several of them, some mementoes from her beloved Albert, and others of her constantly growing family. Of course, if it was good enough for her, it was good enough for everyone else, and ladies quickly adopted the fashion.
At that time, it was very much an upper-class vogue. Most people would not have had the money for innumerable little trinkets – and a working woman would never have been comfortable wearing all of those jingling bits on her wrist while she scrubbed or typed, never mind what would have happened in a factory. So simply owning a charm bracelet marked you as woman of a particular class.
That’s one reason Ella prizes hers. While she definitely does not like fancy jewels, finding them wasteful, showy, and cold, she does love the collection of mementoes around her wrist. It’s a very proper way for her to announce that she is now a lady of means and substance, and she’s quite proud of it.
Like any woman who collects charms, she also loves what they represent. Many of hers are pieces that recall roles she’s played over the years, tracking her successful career. But not all. She also has pieces from friends and family marking milestones, like her friend Marie’s wedding and the birth of her children.
Charms were, and are, a thoughtful and meaningful gift. They were also one of the very few respectable gifts a man could properly give a woman. Though charms are undoubtedly jewelry items, their tiny size, relatively low value, and general appropriateness meant a gentleman could give one to a lady in perfect propriety.
So, there’s plenty in play when Ella’s new acquaintance the Duke clasps her bracelet for her after a performance about a third of the way through their first adventure, A FATAL FINALE. It reminds him of who and what she is, but he also sees that the charms show that she cares about more than music. And then there’s the spark when his fingers touch her wrist…
At the end of the book, the Duke, now Ella’s barrister friend Gil, gives her a charm, and formally asks to court her. That charm stays on her wrist through two more books, with murder, mayhem, and all manner of dangers. On their wedding day in A FATAL RECEPTION, Gil gives Ella a new charm, engraved with one word that sums up their relationship.
And yes, you’ll have to read the book to find out what it is!
Have a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Leave it in the comments!
The bracelet is far more than a fashion statement.
It’s part of thousands of years of tradition…and a very specific class statement for our Lower East side orphan made good.
Remnants of charm bracelets have been found in prehistoric sites, and the ancient Assyrians and others wore strings of various amulets. Back then, it was a charm in the magical sense: an object offering protection from some kind of harm.
While the magical meaning faded with time, the idea of wearing something in an easily visible place to carry an important memory or message is a very popular one, so it never really faded away, even if it took different forms, depending on fashion.
Modern charm bracelet fans can thank – guess who? – Queen Victoria, for making them really popular. Pictures of the Grandmother of Europe from various stages of her life clearly show several of them, some mementoes from her beloved Albert, and others of her constantly growing family. Of course, if it was good enough for her, it was good enough for everyone else, and ladies quickly adopted the fashion.
At that time, it was very much an upper-class vogue. Most people would not have had the money for innumerable little trinkets – and a working woman would never have been comfortable wearing all of those jingling bits on her wrist while she scrubbed or typed, never mind what would have happened in a factory. So simply owning a charm bracelet marked you as woman of a particular class.
That’s one reason Ella prizes hers. While she definitely does not like fancy jewels, finding them wasteful, showy, and cold, she does love the collection of mementoes around her wrist. It’s a very proper way for her to announce that she is now a lady of means and substance, and she’s quite proud of it.
Like any woman who collects charms, she also loves what they represent. Many of hers are pieces that recall roles she’s played over the years, tracking her successful career. But not all. She also has pieces from friends and family marking milestones, like her friend Marie’s wedding and the birth of her children.
Charms were, and are, a thoughtful and meaningful gift. They were also one of the very few respectable gifts a man could properly give a woman. Though charms are undoubtedly jewelry items, their tiny size, relatively low value, and general appropriateness meant a gentleman could give one to a lady in perfect propriety.
So, there’s plenty in play when Ella’s new acquaintance the Duke clasps her bracelet for her after a performance about a third of the way through their first adventure, A FATAL FINALE. It reminds him of who and what she is, but he also sees that the charms show that she cares about more than music. And then there’s the spark when his fingers touch her wrist…
At the end of the book, the Duke, now Ella’s barrister friend Gil, gives her a charm, and formally asks to court her. That charm stays on her wrist through two more books, with murder, mayhem, and all manner of dangers. On their wedding day in A FATAL RECEPTION, Gil gives Ella a new charm, engraved with one word that sums up their relationship.
And yes, you’ll have to read the book to find out what it is!
Have a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Leave it in the comments!
April 3, 2024
HER HOPE CHEST
During a particularly fraught few days in A FATAL RECEPTION (no spoilers!), Ella Shane can’t fall asleep in her bedroom because she doesn’t want to look at her trousseau.
Assembling a trousseau was a huge part of a woman’s preparation for marriage in the Victorian era…and often meant a literally huge assembly of stuff. Since Ella is a diva planning to marry a Duke, which as she admits, requires rather different costuming, this is one old tradition our New Woman follows to the letter.
By the time Ella and Gil (AKA Gilbert St. Aubyn, Duke of Leith) are preparing to exchange vows in June of 1900, all but the showiest nouveau riche had stopped actual public displays of the bride’s trousseau, considering it vulgar. Wedding gifts to the couple were still shown off, as the British Royal Family continued to do into the 21st century, but a bride’s personal accoutrements had become a more private matter.
Still, the grandes dames made sure the society pages knew what their daughters were bringing into their new lives, including long lists of dresses by Worth and other designers, descriptions of priceless lace, luxurious dress goods, and other fripperies. They might also host a trousseau tea to show their friends, and hopefully spark a bit of envy.
In Ella’s case, her future mother-in-law, the Dowager Countess, has taken charge of wedding preparations, and she would never lower herself to such a display, or reportage about the contents of “Dear Ella’s” trunks. Amongst ourselves, though, we can speculate a bit about what might be in them.
Dresses aplenty, morning, afternoon, evening, dinner, and tea would all be included, no doubt mostly in Ella’s favorite shades of lavender and lilac, and harmonizing tones. There would also be one very good simple black dress. As the wife of a Peer, Ella would have to be able to don appropriate mourning attire if a Royal or other important personage died.
But by 1900, dresses really weren’t the focus of a trousseau.
Rather, it was, as one fashion historian says, an excuse to assemble a lifetime supply of lingerie. It’s not an exaggeration if you see the recommended numbers. Women’s magazines decreed chemises, drawers, corset covers, and petticoats by the dozen – sometimes by the gross (a dozen dozen!), all in the thinnest and best cotton and trimmed with the finest lace the bride could afford. Plus nightgowns, wrappers, and more, again as high-quality and beautifully decorated as possible.
Girls were encouraged to start sewing on their hope chests as soon as they were able to handle a needle, and many were able to make inroads on those dozens of unmentionables with their own handiwork. Others bought pieces whenever they could afford them, and accumulated them over time, often again in a formal hope chest, or just a bottom drawer reserved for the purpose.
While all of this is at least in the same neighborhood as the dowry, and certainly has plenty of patriarchal overtones, it’s worth pointing out that a wife who came with her own clothes didn’t have to ask her husband’s opinion about them…and didn’t have to rely on him to buy them for her. In a world before women had any public power, any control was better than none.
In A FATAL RECEPTION, Ella is happy to turn over trousseau buying and organizing to the Dowager Countess. If only because she has a few other things on her mind: a murder, a shipwreck…
Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Drop it in the comments!
Assembling a trousseau was a huge part of a woman’s preparation for marriage in the Victorian era…and often meant a literally huge assembly of stuff. Since Ella is a diva planning to marry a Duke, which as she admits, requires rather different costuming, this is one old tradition our New Woman follows to the letter.
By the time Ella and Gil (AKA Gilbert St. Aubyn, Duke of Leith) are preparing to exchange vows in June of 1900, all but the showiest nouveau riche had stopped actual public displays of the bride’s trousseau, considering it vulgar. Wedding gifts to the couple were still shown off, as the British Royal Family continued to do into the 21st century, but a bride’s personal accoutrements had become a more private matter.
Still, the grandes dames made sure the society pages knew what their daughters were bringing into their new lives, including long lists of dresses by Worth and other designers, descriptions of priceless lace, luxurious dress goods, and other fripperies. They might also host a trousseau tea to show their friends, and hopefully spark a bit of envy.
In Ella’s case, her future mother-in-law, the Dowager Countess, has taken charge of wedding preparations, and she would never lower herself to such a display, or reportage about the contents of “Dear Ella’s” trunks. Amongst ourselves, though, we can speculate a bit about what might be in them.
Dresses aplenty, morning, afternoon, evening, dinner, and tea would all be included, no doubt mostly in Ella’s favorite shades of lavender and lilac, and harmonizing tones. There would also be one very good simple black dress. As the wife of a Peer, Ella would have to be able to don appropriate mourning attire if a Royal or other important personage died.
But by 1900, dresses really weren’t the focus of a trousseau.
Rather, it was, as one fashion historian says, an excuse to assemble a lifetime supply of lingerie. It’s not an exaggeration if you see the recommended numbers. Women’s magazines decreed chemises, drawers, corset covers, and petticoats by the dozen – sometimes by the gross (a dozen dozen!), all in the thinnest and best cotton and trimmed with the finest lace the bride could afford. Plus nightgowns, wrappers, and more, again as high-quality and beautifully decorated as possible.
Girls were encouraged to start sewing on their hope chests as soon as they were able to handle a needle, and many were able to make inroads on those dozens of unmentionables with their own handiwork. Others bought pieces whenever they could afford them, and accumulated them over time, often again in a formal hope chest, or just a bottom drawer reserved for the purpose.
While all of this is at least in the same neighborhood as the dowry, and certainly has plenty of patriarchal overtones, it’s worth pointing out that a wife who came with her own clothes didn’t have to ask her husband’s opinion about them…and didn’t have to rely on him to buy them for her. In a world before women had any public power, any control was better than none.
In A FATAL RECEPTION, Ella is happy to turn over trousseau buying and organizing to the Dowager Countess. If only because she has a few other things on her mind: a murder, a shipwreck…
Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Drop it in the comments!
March 27, 2024
SHE WEARS THE PANTS
Ella Shane wears the pants – and in 1899, that’s a lot more than an expression. She’s one of the very rare women who’s ever seen in anything but a floor-length skirt away from the beach or bicycle. For the time, that is a Very Big Deal.
There are still plenty of women alive now who can remember when they weren’t allowed to go into spiffy restaurants in a trouser suit. Even I remember someone telling my mother never to dress me in pants again for services at the (admittedly very conservative) church we briefly attended when I was a kid. Let’s just say her response was unholy.
It’s pretty simple: for centuries, pants were what men wore. Of course, there’s a lot of symbolism and cultural weight associated with that, going all the way back to the Bible, where there are verses inveighing against women wearing men’s attire and vice versa. Though, really, in the ancient world, often the only real difference between a man’s garment and a woman’s was color, or possibly length.
Pointing right to the other big issue with pants: practicality. In trousers, men can move and run and do all kinds of things that are much tougher in a skirt. Especially a very long one with layers of petticoats. As long as women have been working, they’ve been working around their clothes, usually tucking the skirts up so they can move easily.
The first time women made a serious effort at wearing pants, in 1851, what quickly became known as the Bloomer Costume was pretty much laughed out of the room, even though the very impressive Elizabeth Cady Stanton was an early adopter. And, honestly, whether by 1850s or 2020s standards, the costume, a long tunic over big puffy pants, does look pretty silly. But it was a try.
What women DID quickly realize was that while they didn’t want to make people giggle while they walked down the street, they sure did enjoy having a little freedom to move. So, by the late 1800s, bloomers and split skirts were a key part of female “sports costumes,” and many women wore them. These were still loose and modest, and often accompanied by thick stockings, even at the beach, so that no one would see too much of one’s “limbs” as seriously Victorian Victorians might say instead of the vulgar “legs.”
Legs, at least the female variety, were not something the Victorians got to see very often. Even ballerinas wore longish tutus, not the little fluffy thigh-length ones we often see now. The only women who showed a lot of leg were chorus girls, and that’s one of the big reasons people made assumptions about them.
So all of that’s in the room when Ella Shane takes the stage in breeches or doublet and (gasp!) hose. She’s not just appropriating the masculine prerogatives of wearing pants, running around and sword fighting; she’s also displaying her very fit body in a way that almost no other respectable woman of the time would be comfortable doing.
Which is why Ella is so aggressively respectable. Occasionally readers find that odd, wondering why someone as unpretentious and kind as Ella is so very hung up on appropriate behavior. She has to be. Every day of her life is a fight to be seen as a lady and not a chorus girl, simply because of the nature of her work. And all because she wears the pants.
Got an idea for a #ThrowbackThursday post? Drop it in the comments!
There are still plenty of women alive now who can remember when they weren’t allowed to go into spiffy restaurants in a trouser suit. Even I remember someone telling my mother never to dress me in pants again for services at the (admittedly very conservative) church we briefly attended when I was a kid. Let’s just say her response was unholy.
It’s pretty simple: for centuries, pants were what men wore. Of course, there’s a lot of symbolism and cultural weight associated with that, going all the way back to the Bible, where there are verses inveighing against women wearing men’s attire and vice versa. Though, really, in the ancient world, often the only real difference between a man’s garment and a woman’s was color, or possibly length.
Pointing right to the other big issue with pants: practicality. In trousers, men can move and run and do all kinds of things that are much tougher in a skirt. Especially a very long one with layers of petticoats. As long as women have been working, they’ve been working around their clothes, usually tucking the skirts up so they can move easily.
The first time women made a serious effort at wearing pants, in 1851, what quickly became known as the Bloomer Costume was pretty much laughed out of the room, even though the very impressive Elizabeth Cady Stanton was an early adopter. And, honestly, whether by 1850s or 2020s standards, the costume, a long tunic over big puffy pants, does look pretty silly. But it was a try.
What women DID quickly realize was that while they didn’t want to make people giggle while they walked down the street, they sure did enjoy having a little freedom to move. So, by the late 1800s, bloomers and split skirts were a key part of female “sports costumes,” and many women wore them. These were still loose and modest, and often accompanied by thick stockings, even at the beach, so that no one would see too much of one’s “limbs” as seriously Victorian Victorians might say instead of the vulgar “legs.”
Legs, at least the female variety, were not something the Victorians got to see very often. Even ballerinas wore longish tutus, not the little fluffy thigh-length ones we often see now. The only women who showed a lot of leg were chorus girls, and that’s one of the big reasons people made assumptions about them.
So all of that’s in the room when Ella Shane takes the stage in breeches or doublet and (gasp!) hose. She’s not just appropriating the masculine prerogatives of wearing pants, running around and sword fighting; she’s also displaying her very fit body in a way that almost no other respectable woman of the time would be comfortable doing.
Which is why Ella is so aggressively respectable. Occasionally readers find that odd, wondering why someone as unpretentious and kind as Ella is so very hung up on appropriate behavior. She has to be. Every day of her life is a fight to be seen as a lady and not a chorus girl, simply because of the nature of her work. And all because she wears the pants.
Got an idea for a #ThrowbackThursday post? Drop it in the comments!
March 20, 2024
WE NEED TO TALK...ABOUT OPERA
What’s your mental picture of an opera singer? Probably not Ella Shane, a sleek, appealing woman in her 30s dressed in a doublet and hose, with a sword at her belt, playing a very credible Romeo or King Edward V. Well, Ella’s the one you’ll meet in my books…and she’s also a much more accurate reflection of a Gilded Age diva than the zaftig lady with an iron bra and horned helmet many people envision when they hear “opera star.”
Despite the best efforts of the Met and other companies to widen the audience, for an awful lot of folks, opera is now seen as elite entertainment. Part of that is the simple fact that many iconic pieces are in foreign languages. You can thank my beloved Beverly Sills for popularizing supertitles, which provide live translation. But even with that, you’re still asking folks to go watch people sing their little hearts out in a language they don’t speak for three hours. It can be a stretch.
Not in 1899. While opera wasn’t as wildly popular as it had been in the earlier Jenny Lind era, it was still something ordinary people followed, enjoyed and attended. The gossip columnists don’t just watch Ella because they like her hats; divas were stars of today’s movie or TV magnitude.
And before film or airwaves, those stars brought the show to the audience. The Ella Shane Opera Company tours regularly, on a circuit including large cities like Boston and Philadelphia, and occasionally taking the long trip to San Francisco. They’re part of a huge and vibrant industry of traveling companies and theatre circuits, from small to large, across the country.
It’s hard to imagine now, but most medium-sized towns had theatres, and traveling companies came through with the melodrama of the day. Opera companies traveled too, and played to sizeable audiences, not just in large cities. While opera singers were indeed perceived as practicing a difficult and elevated art, they were offering those performances to the same wide audiences as lighter fare.
Live performance is an event to us, even – maybe especially -- in 2024. To people who never saw any other kind of performance, it must have been awe-inspiring, truly magical. Stagecraft and special effects weren’t at 21st century level, but they were very good, and no traveling production was complete without at least one good spectacle. People expected a good show for their time and money – and successful companies made sure they got it.
It’s worth noting here that audiences would also be a lot more familiar with the material and background of the productions. Remember, most operas began as popular entertainment, and became iconic over time. Plus, people read a lot more Shakespeare and classical history – and what we think of as nineteenth-century literature was the book on somebody’s nightstand. So they don’t look at Romeo and Juliet, or Richard III the same way we do.
All of this to say, whether Ella’s on the road, bringing out a new opera at home in New York – or debuting at the Met and marrying her Duke as she will next month in A FATAL RECEPTION! – she’s a star, and a popular draw.
My advice: don’t think of Ella as Renee Fleming, no disrespect intended. Think of her as James Gandolfini: a brilliantly talented performer known for a popular and iconic role, and a pretty terrific New Yorker. You’ll be much closer to the truth…even if Ella would disapprove of Mr. Soprano’s vocabulary!
Got an idea for a #ThrowbackThursday post? Drop it in the comments!
Despite the best efforts of the Met and other companies to widen the audience, for an awful lot of folks, opera is now seen as elite entertainment. Part of that is the simple fact that many iconic pieces are in foreign languages. You can thank my beloved Beverly Sills for popularizing supertitles, which provide live translation. But even with that, you’re still asking folks to go watch people sing their little hearts out in a language they don’t speak for three hours. It can be a stretch.
Not in 1899. While opera wasn’t as wildly popular as it had been in the earlier Jenny Lind era, it was still something ordinary people followed, enjoyed and attended. The gossip columnists don’t just watch Ella because they like her hats; divas were stars of today’s movie or TV magnitude.
And before film or airwaves, those stars brought the show to the audience. The Ella Shane Opera Company tours regularly, on a circuit including large cities like Boston and Philadelphia, and occasionally taking the long trip to San Francisco. They’re part of a huge and vibrant industry of traveling companies and theatre circuits, from small to large, across the country.
It’s hard to imagine now, but most medium-sized towns had theatres, and traveling companies came through with the melodrama of the day. Opera companies traveled too, and played to sizeable audiences, not just in large cities. While opera singers were indeed perceived as practicing a difficult and elevated art, they were offering those performances to the same wide audiences as lighter fare.
Live performance is an event to us, even – maybe especially -- in 2024. To people who never saw any other kind of performance, it must have been awe-inspiring, truly magical. Stagecraft and special effects weren’t at 21st century level, but they were very good, and no traveling production was complete without at least one good spectacle. People expected a good show for their time and money – and successful companies made sure they got it.
It’s worth noting here that audiences would also be a lot more familiar with the material and background of the productions. Remember, most operas began as popular entertainment, and became iconic over time. Plus, people read a lot more Shakespeare and classical history – and what we think of as nineteenth-century literature was the book on somebody’s nightstand. So they don’t look at Romeo and Juliet, or Richard III the same way we do.
All of this to say, whether Ella’s on the road, bringing out a new opera at home in New York – or debuting at the Met and marrying her Duke as she will next month in A FATAL RECEPTION! – she’s a star, and a popular draw.
My advice: don’t think of Ella as Renee Fleming, no disrespect intended. Think of her as James Gandolfini: a brilliantly talented performer known for a popular and iconic role, and a pretty terrific New Yorker. You’ll be much closer to the truth…even if Ella would disapprove of Mr. Soprano’s vocabulary!
Got an idea for a #ThrowbackThursday post? Drop it in the comments!
March 13, 2024
A LUCKY ST. PATRICK'S DAY
Kiss me, I’m Irish today! Green donuts. Green beer. Green bagels. (Oy vey!)
Maybe a chorus of “Danny Boy.”
For a lot of Americans, that’s a typical Saint Patrick’s Day.
Whether you’re Irish – for the day – or not, it’s mostly a celebration of how we think of the Irish: a poetic and musical people who like the color green and know how to party.
Which…yeah.
But Americans have been observing Saint Patrick’s Day since before they were Americans. There are rumblings in Irish-American historical circles about a Royal Governor of New York in the 1600s who was Irish and Catholic and must have done something to mark the day.
If he did, he was smart enough to keep it quiet. Even before the Great Hunger, the Irish were second-class citizens at best, and Irish ancestry – and especially Catholic faith – were not things to celebrate.
Still, the Irish are not known for keeping their lights under a bushel, and in the early 1700s, there were modest and dignified celebrations in Boston that spread to other cities. By the 1800s, there were plenty of parades, usually fairly quiet and restrained events, again with the emphasis on pride and dignity, in no small part because of growing nativist prejudice.
It’s hard to imagine in our current multicultural world, but at one point, the Anglo-Saxon Protestant aristocracy in Britain and the U.S. didn’t even consider the Irish human, never mind white people like them. You don’t let people starve in the road if you think they’re anything like you.
But the Irish are a resilient bunch. They’ve had to be.
By the late 19th century, they’d beaten back a lot of the prejudice just by showing up and working hard, and celebrations of Irish heritage continued and grew. Not without incident – a melee after dueling New York parades in 1867 led to a renewed emphasis on decorum. It apparently worked – the City’s famous parade moved to almost its current spot on Fifth Avenue in 1891, and became a key place for the Irish political machine to show its power…and for New York’s Irish community to show its pride.
Ella Shane and her cousin Tommy Hurley would be two of those proud Irish folks; Ella honors both her Irish father and Jewish mother whenever she can. As tenement kids made good as a singer and boxing champ, our heroes would be careful to celebrate in a restrained and proper fashion. In “A Fatal St. Patrick’s Day,” my story in the LUCK OF THE IRISH charity anthology, Ella and Tommy go to Mass – and then solve a murder!
And then they take shamrocks to Tommy’s mother, Ella’s namesake Aunt Ellen.
The shamrocks, like the Irish coffee recipe in the anthology, come from my grandparents.
My grandfather was proudly Scotch-Irish (we were never entirely sure he didn’t add the “Scotch” part to please Grandma’s Scottish immigrant father!) but he sure liked to celebrate Saint Patrick’s Day like a regular Irishman. Which meant Grandma grudgingly made him corned beef and cabbage – and that he very happily brought her shamrocks.
Ella gets shamrocks, too, but you’ll have to read the story to find out how! (Not only is my story worth your time – there are nine more, plus recipes, with all proceeds going to help migrant children, so it’s a St. Patrick’s Day good deed, in addition to everything else!)
Got a Throwback Thursday idea? Drop it in the comments!
Maybe a chorus of “Danny Boy.”
For a lot of Americans, that’s a typical Saint Patrick’s Day.
Whether you’re Irish – for the day – or not, it’s mostly a celebration of how we think of the Irish: a poetic and musical people who like the color green and know how to party.
Which…yeah.
But Americans have been observing Saint Patrick’s Day since before they were Americans. There are rumblings in Irish-American historical circles about a Royal Governor of New York in the 1600s who was Irish and Catholic and must have done something to mark the day.
If he did, he was smart enough to keep it quiet. Even before the Great Hunger, the Irish were second-class citizens at best, and Irish ancestry – and especially Catholic faith – were not things to celebrate.
Still, the Irish are not known for keeping their lights under a bushel, and in the early 1700s, there were modest and dignified celebrations in Boston that spread to other cities. By the 1800s, there were plenty of parades, usually fairly quiet and restrained events, again with the emphasis on pride and dignity, in no small part because of growing nativist prejudice.
It’s hard to imagine in our current multicultural world, but at one point, the Anglo-Saxon Protestant aristocracy in Britain and the U.S. didn’t even consider the Irish human, never mind white people like them. You don’t let people starve in the road if you think they’re anything like you.
But the Irish are a resilient bunch. They’ve had to be.
By the late 19th century, they’d beaten back a lot of the prejudice just by showing up and working hard, and celebrations of Irish heritage continued and grew. Not without incident – a melee after dueling New York parades in 1867 led to a renewed emphasis on decorum. It apparently worked – the City’s famous parade moved to almost its current spot on Fifth Avenue in 1891, and became a key place for the Irish political machine to show its power…and for New York’s Irish community to show its pride.
Ella Shane and her cousin Tommy Hurley would be two of those proud Irish folks; Ella honors both her Irish father and Jewish mother whenever she can. As tenement kids made good as a singer and boxing champ, our heroes would be careful to celebrate in a restrained and proper fashion. In “A Fatal St. Patrick’s Day,” my story in the LUCK OF THE IRISH charity anthology, Ella and Tommy go to Mass – and then solve a murder!
And then they take shamrocks to Tommy’s mother, Ella’s namesake Aunt Ellen.
The shamrocks, like the Irish coffee recipe in the anthology, come from my grandparents.
My grandfather was proudly Scotch-Irish (we were never entirely sure he didn’t add the “Scotch” part to please Grandma’s Scottish immigrant father!) but he sure liked to celebrate Saint Patrick’s Day like a regular Irishman. Which meant Grandma grudgingly made him corned beef and cabbage – and that he very happily brought her shamrocks.
Ella gets shamrocks, too, but you’ll have to read the story to find out how! (Not only is my story worth your time – there are nine more, plus recipes, with all proceeds going to help migrant children, so it’s a St. Patrick’s Day good deed, in addition to everything else!)
Got a Throwback Thursday idea? Drop it in the comments!
