What do you think?
Rate this book
The Porcelain Dove
Narrated by the irrepressible chambermaid to a French duchess, this exquisite blend of authentic 18th-century memoir and classic fairy tale is a dazzling story of devotion, intrigue, and superstition as literate and compelling as Possession or The Volcano Lover.
399 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 1993
9 people are currently reading
1227 people want to read
About the author
Delia Sherman
115 books332 followersDelia Sherman (born 1951) is a fantasy writer and editor. Her novel The Porcelain Dove won the Mythopoeic Fantasy Award.
She was born in Tokyo and brought up in New York City. She earned a PhD in Renaissance studies at Brown University and taught at Boston and North-eastern universities. She is the author of the novels Through a Brazen Mirror, The Porcelain Dove (a Mythopoeic Award winner), and Changeling.
Sherman co-founded the Interstitial Arts Foundation, dedicated to promoting art that crosses genre borders.
She lives in New York City with her wife and sometime collaborator, Ellen Kushner.
She was born in Tokyo and brought up in New York City. She earned a PhD in Renaissance studies at Brown University and taught at Boston and North-eastern universities. She is the author of the novels Through a Brazen Mirror, The Porcelain Dove (a Mythopoeic Award winner), and Changeling.
Sherman co-founded the Interstitial Arts Foundation, dedicated to promoting art that crosses genre borders.
She lives in New York City with her wife and sometime collaborator, Ellen Kushner.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 42 reviews
June 27, 2015
You never know with obscure fantasy novels, especially those written by women, whose works are still too often unjustly ignored. There are some hidden gems out there. (Here, have some recs: Firethorn. The Secrets of Jin-shei. Fudoki.) And then there are the books that are forgotten for good reason. This one falls into the latter category. Unfortunately, it’s so hard to find that I wound up requesting and receiving it as a gift, at which point I felt obliged to read all of its 500+ pages.
The Porcelain Dove is a historical fantasy, set before – and, toward the end, during – the French Revolution, narrated by a duchess’s maid. The story is supposedly about a curse placed on a noble family, but would be more accurately described as the mundane life story of the maid, since all the curse does for the plot is require minor characters to disappear from the narrative as they go off questing for years – or decades – on end. Our narrator herself has nothing to do with the curse or its resolution, nor does she even have access to the people who do. Her mistress is a shallow and flighty woman, who does no more to advance the plot than Berthe herself. Berthe is possessive of her mistress regardless, but to me the LGBT label is a stretch; there is little in Berthe’s devotion that reads like desire.
Meanwhile, the character who acts as the heroine of the novel (at least toward the end) doesn’t get along with Berthe and rarely appears. In fact, our narrator has so little interaction with this character that the climax of the novel consists of Berthe’s watching a play, which magically reveals to her over 20-odd pages everything that happens in this other character’s quest. Riveting drama, that, but it’s not quite as bad as the premise itself. As it turns out, the curse is imposed as revenge for a horrific crime, and goes like this, “You ! Therefore, I curse you with a beggar approaching one of your descendants hundreds of years in the future and asking him for something! If he refuses, a family member of his will have to go on a quest, and in the interim his lands will decline!”
What kind of lame vengeance is that? Really, why even bother? The real-life perpetrator who inspired this ancestor was simply hanged, which seems much more appropriate.
But this is one example of a problem that permeates the book. Now, historical fantasy is among my favorite subgenres. Done right, the history brings texture and authenticity to the fantasy, while the fantasy brings imagination and possibility to the history. But here, the fantasy simply eliminates the stakes from history (we learn in the prologue that the entire unsympathetic aristocratic family survives the revolution unscathed, as their chateau is transformed into an inaccessible paradise), without bringing any liveliness to a tale bogged down in mundane details of jaunts to Lausanne and Paris and petty arguments among servants.
So, what are we left with? A slow-paced story, with no plot at all in the first half of the book and an ending we know from the start. A snooty narrator with no discernible goals or struggles, surrounded by a cast of characters too flat to justify the meandering. Dialogue that is often cliché and overblown, and a narrative peppered with French words and phrases (if you don’t know what lessons in comme il faut might be, or precisely what is meant by the exclamation “foutre ce dedale infernal!”, you’ll likely feel lost at times). Tedious details about clothing and garden parties. One black guy who exists primarily to be referred to by all as an ape, because those 18th-century-ers sure were racist! Various aristocratic men who get away with assaulting and/or raping whomever they like, and peasants who are dismissed as unintelligent and perpetually discontented, in a setting that, despite the overabundance of mundane detail, still feels underexplored.
Needless to say, I don’t recommend seeking this one out. But for those seeking French-Revolution-inspired historical fantasy, all is not lost! Go read Illusion instead. You can thank me later.
The Porcelain Dove is a historical fantasy, set before – and, toward the end, during – the French Revolution, narrated by a duchess’s maid. The story is supposedly about a curse placed on a noble family, but would be more accurately described as the mundane life story of the maid, since all the curse does for the plot is require minor characters to disappear from the narrative as they go off questing for years – or decades – on end. Our narrator herself has nothing to do with the curse or its resolution, nor does she even have access to the people who do. Her mistress is a shallow and flighty woman, who does no more to advance the plot than Berthe herself. Berthe is possessive of her mistress regardless, but to me the LGBT label is a stretch; there is little in Berthe’s devotion that reads like desire.
Meanwhile, the character who acts as the heroine of the novel (at least toward the end) doesn’t get along with Berthe and rarely appears. In fact, our narrator has so little interaction with this character that the climax of the novel consists of Berthe’s watching a play, which magically reveals to her over 20-odd pages everything that happens in this other character’s quest. Riveting drama, that, but it’s not quite as bad as the premise itself. As it turns out, the curse is imposed as revenge for a horrific crime, and goes like this, “You ! Therefore, I curse you with a beggar approaching one of your descendants hundreds of years in the future and asking him for something! If he refuses, a family member of his will have to go on a quest, and in the interim his lands will decline!”
What kind of lame vengeance is that? Really, why even bother? The real-life perpetrator who inspired this ancestor was simply hanged, which seems much more appropriate.
But this is one example of a problem that permeates the book. Now, historical fantasy is among my favorite subgenres. Done right, the history brings texture and authenticity to the fantasy, while the fantasy brings imagination and possibility to the history. But here, the fantasy simply eliminates the stakes from history (we learn in the prologue that the entire unsympathetic aristocratic family survives the revolution unscathed, as their chateau is transformed into an inaccessible paradise), without bringing any liveliness to a tale bogged down in mundane details of jaunts to Lausanne and Paris and petty arguments among servants.
So, what are we left with? A slow-paced story, with no plot at all in the first half of the book and an ending we know from the start. A snooty narrator with no discernible goals or struggles, surrounded by a cast of characters too flat to justify the meandering. Dialogue that is often cliché and overblown, and a narrative peppered with French words and phrases (if you don’t know what lessons in comme il faut might be, or precisely what is meant by the exclamation “foutre ce dedale infernal!”, you’ll likely feel lost at times). Tedious details about clothing and garden parties. One black guy who exists primarily to be referred to by all as an ape, because those 18th-century-ers sure were racist! Various aristocratic men who get away with assaulting and/or raping whomever they like, and peasants who are dismissed as unintelligent and perpetually discontented, in a setting that, despite the overabundance of mundane detail, still feels underexplored.
Needless to say, I don’t recommend seeking this one out. But for those seeking French-Revolution-inspired historical fantasy, all is not lost! Go read Illusion instead. You can thank me later.
August 30, 2019
Review originally published at FanLit; reposted here with some more casual commentary.
I really can't argue with most of the points in Emma's review, though I enjoyed the experience more than she did. I agree with her that Illusion is a lot more fun. (For a newer take on the period, so is Enchantée.)
Years ago, I got into “fantasies of manners” at about the same time as I was going through a big Revolutionary France phase. When I heard about Delia Sherman’s The Porcelain Dove (1993) — a fantasy set in that time period, and which won the Mythopoeic Award for 1994 — it sounded like the perfect book for me. I could never find it in the used bookstores, though. (I did, before I successfully committed the title to memory, buy two different other books thinking they might be it.) The rise of e-books has fortunately made it possible for us to track down some of our elusive great white whales, or in this case, our porcelain doves.
I don’t know what gave me the idea The Porcelain Dove would be a light, frothy novel. It is not. It is also, contrary to what you might expect, not a novel of court intrigue; when the characters go to court, it is dealt with only briefly. Nor does it focus on the Revolution as much as one might anticipate. If you are looking for lots of courtly or revolutionary content, Paula Volsky’s Illusion has more of both of these. If anything, The Porcelain Dove is a sort of gothic fairy tale, revolving around a woman stuck in a house filled with nasty secrets.
Berthe Duvet is the loyal, sensible lady’s maid to a noblewoman, Adele. She follows her mistress first to convent school and then, upon Adele’s marriage to a duke, to the estate of Beauxprés. The first half of the novel contains little fantasy, simply narrating the events of the noble family’s lives and those of their servants. It’s a slow start, and the mannered writing style will also not be for everyone.
Gradually, the ugliness at the heart of Beauxprés is revealed to the reader. I started out thinking, OK, this family is kind of vapid. Then it was OK, they’re vapid bigots. Then, OK, they’re vapid bigots, and several of them are abusers and rapists. Then a curse falls upon Beauxprés and the family’s fortunes begin to decline. The curse has its roots in the crimes of a depraved ancestor (he’s based on a horrific real-life figure, and the description of his acts is extremely upsetting to read). Berthe stays on, even when most people would nope out; she’s devoted to her mistress, and besides, she doesn’t have anywhere else to go.
To break the curse, someone will need to embark on a quest to find the mysterious Porcelain Dove. That someone is not Berthe. Her role is to try to keep everyone at Beauxprés alive, through increasingly bad conditions, until the curse can be broken.
Essentially, we end up with a book that’s roughly half conversations with unpleasant people, and half trauma. It’s strangely compelling, though, and kept me reading it as doggedly as Berthe persisted in serving Adele. There are some fairy-tale elements threaded throughout. Some are overt; Beauxprés has a room dedicated to the magical treasures featured in various classic tales. Others are more subtle. There are plotlines that echo Bluebeard and Sleeping Beauty, for example, and a nod to every story in which three siblings in turn set off on an adventure.
I found The Porcelain Dove disappointing overall. There are too few likeable characters, the pace is too slow for long stretches, and the curse doesn’t make much sense if you look at it too closely. Why wouldn’t the wizard have cursed the man who actually wronged him, rather than his descendants? Yet I can tell a great deal of work went into the novel, and as I mentioned above, it did keep me reading and curious what would happen next. I’m glad I finally had the chance to read it.
I really can't argue with most of the points in Emma's review, though I enjoyed the experience more than she did. I agree with her that Illusion is a lot more fun. (For a newer take on the period, so is Enchantée.)
Years ago, I got into “fantasies of manners” at about the same time as I was going through a big Revolutionary France phase. When I heard about Delia Sherman’s The Porcelain Dove (1993) — a fantasy set in that time period, and which won the Mythopoeic Award for 1994 — it sounded like the perfect book for me. I could never find it in the used bookstores, though. (I did, before I successfully committed the title to memory, buy two different other books thinking they might be it.) The rise of e-books has fortunately made it possible for us to track down some of our elusive great white whales, or in this case, our porcelain doves.
I don’t know what gave me the idea The Porcelain Dove would be a light, frothy novel. It is not. It is also, contrary to what you might expect, not a novel of court intrigue; when the characters go to court, it is dealt with only briefly. Nor does it focus on the Revolution as much as one might anticipate. If you are looking for lots of courtly or revolutionary content, Paula Volsky’s Illusion has more of both of these. If anything, The Porcelain Dove is a sort of gothic fairy tale, revolving around a woman stuck in a house filled with nasty secrets.
Berthe Duvet is the loyal, sensible lady’s maid to a noblewoman, Adele. She follows her mistress first to convent school and then, upon Adele’s marriage to a duke, to the estate of Beauxprés. The first half of the novel contains little fantasy, simply narrating the events of the noble family’s lives and those of their servants. It’s a slow start, and the mannered writing style will also not be for everyone.
Gradually, the ugliness at the heart of Beauxprés is revealed to the reader. I started out thinking, OK, this family is kind of vapid. Then it was OK, they’re vapid bigots. Then, OK, they’re vapid bigots, and several of them are abusers and rapists. Then a curse falls upon Beauxprés and the family’s fortunes begin to decline. The curse has its roots in the crimes of a depraved ancestor (he’s based on a horrific real-life figure, and the description of his acts is extremely upsetting to read). Berthe stays on, even when most people would nope out; she’s devoted to her mistress, and besides, she doesn’t have anywhere else to go.
To break the curse, someone will need to embark on a quest to find the mysterious Porcelain Dove. That someone is not Berthe. Her role is to try to keep everyone at Beauxprés alive, through increasingly bad conditions, until the curse can be broken.
Essentially, we end up with a book that’s roughly half conversations with unpleasant people, and half trauma. It’s strangely compelling, though, and kept me reading it as doggedly as Berthe persisted in serving Adele. There are some fairy-tale elements threaded throughout. Some are overt; Beauxprés has a room dedicated to the magical treasures featured in various classic tales. Others are more subtle. There are plotlines that echo Bluebeard and Sleeping Beauty, for example, and a nod to every story in which three siblings in turn set off on an adventure.
I found The Porcelain Dove disappointing overall. There are too few likeable characters, the pace is too slow for long stretches, and the curse doesn’t make much sense if you look at it too closely. Why wouldn’t the wizard have cursed the man who actually wronged him, rather than his descendants? Yet I can tell a great deal of work went into the novel, and as I mentioned above, it did keep me reading and curious what would happen next. I’m glad I finally had the chance to read it.
September 20, 2008
In eighteen century France, Berthe Duvet becomes chambermaid to Adèle du Fourchet, later the Duchess of Malvoeux. Centuries later, Berthe tells the story of a curse placed on the Duke's family which drove them all to madness and isolation until the youngest child and only daughter set out, against the backdrop of revolutionary France, to bring back the porcelain dove and break the curse. A lush period piece overlayed by both French society and everpresent magic, The Porcelain Dove is somewhat contrived but is still an enjoyable and imaginative novel. The story moves slowly and the period-styled language may turn away some readers, but Sherman's protagonist is sharp-witted, her characters vivid, and the heavy influence of magic sets her book apart. I recommend it.
The Porcelain Dove is somewhat difficult to summarizethe curse placed on the family and the porcelain dove that will break it lies at the heart of the book yet makes up only a fraction of the plot. For the rest, Berthe leisurely recounts her own and Adèle's lives, lingering sometimes on the fantasticalsuch as the Duke's obsession with birdsand sometimes on the wholly mundane. Nor does the plot tend towards contemporary politics, despite the revolutionary setting. The book moves at a slow pace, pushing the titular aspects to the end and making the text seem somewhat longer than its 400 pages, although it never quite becomes boring. Furthermore, Berthe writes in the language appropriate to her time and setting, and so the text is heavy with "tis" and "twas" as well as more than a handful of French phrasesand these aspects, too, weight down the book. The overall style feels somewhat contrived and just a little unbelievable, and it may deter some readers.
However, beyond these aspects (and in the case of the slow storytelling, sometimes because of them), Sherman nevertheless weaves an intriguing tale. Berthe is a servant, but her story is larger than lifea witty narrator, she writes from isolated, heavenly immortality; the house she serves is plagued by curses and obsessions; magic overlays almost all of her story. Sherman is not shy of magic and does not constrain it to hints and glimpses, but rather, almost like a character, it takes a central role. As a result, everything becomes brighter, a little more absurd, and is set on a grander scale. These magical aspects are not always positive, but where they are dark they are also amusingly absurd, and even where they create conflict they do so in a way which, not unlike the a fairy tale, spin a fantastic story for the reader.
I picked up The Porcelain Dove because I've recently begun reading "fantasy of manners" novels, but this book contains little of the plotting and social intrigue that generally defines the genre and concentrates much more on those overt fantasy elements which are usually dismissed. In that respect the book was something of a disappointment, but read for its own right I'm quite glad I picked up this novel. For those with an appetite for slower moving novels and with the patience to read through the contrived language, this book offers a magical tale. While not perfect and in some ways unmemorable, The Porcelain Dove is a welcome change from usual historical fiction, mixing a period setting with imaginative fantasy and a sharp narrator. I enjoyed it, and I recommend it.
The Porcelain Dove is somewhat difficult to summarizethe curse placed on the family and the porcelain dove that will break it lies at the heart of the book yet makes up only a fraction of the plot. For the rest, Berthe leisurely recounts her own and Adèle's lives, lingering sometimes on the fantasticalsuch as the Duke's obsession with birdsand sometimes on the wholly mundane. Nor does the plot tend towards contemporary politics, despite the revolutionary setting. The book moves at a slow pace, pushing the titular aspects to the end and making the text seem somewhat longer than its 400 pages, although it never quite becomes boring. Furthermore, Berthe writes in the language appropriate to her time and setting, and so the text is heavy with "tis" and "twas" as well as more than a handful of French phrasesand these aspects, too, weight down the book. The overall style feels somewhat contrived and just a little unbelievable, and it may deter some readers.
However, beyond these aspects (and in the case of the slow storytelling, sometimes because of them), Sherman nevertheless weaves an intriguing tale. Berthe is a servant, but her story is larger than lifea witty narrator, she writes from isolated, heavenly immortality; the house she serves is plagued by curses and obsessions; magic overlays almost all of her story. Sherman is not shy of magic and does not constrain it to hints and glimpses, but rather, almost like a character, it takes a central role. As a result, everything becomes brighter, a little more absurd, and is set on a grander scale. These magical aspects are not always positive, but where they are dark they are also amusingly absurd, and even where they create conflict they do so in a way which, not unlike the a fairy tale, spin a fantastic story for the reader.
I picked up The Porcelain Dove because I've recently begun reading "fantasy of manners" novels, but this book contains little of the plotting and social intrigue that generally defines the genre and concentrates much more on those overt fantasy elements which are usually dismissed. In that respect the book was something of a disappointment, but read for its own right I'm quite glad I picked up this novel. For those with an appetite for slower moving novels and with the patience to read through the contrived language, this book offers a magical tale. While not perfect and in some ways unmemorable, The Porcelain Dove is a welcome change from usual historical fiction, mixing a period setting with imaginative fantasy and a sharp narrator. I enjoyed it, and I recommend it.
May 14, 2016
Review forthcoming. Re-reading.
This books is narrated by the maid of a young girl who is sent off to marry a French nobleman right before the French Revolution. The story follows their marriage and children and what happens to them as a family. There is a curse of sorts, or maybe it is a blessing, but it's magical and separates the family from the world of war.
The more I read this book, the more I appreciate the hard work put into it, the imagination and dedication to re-creating a sense of language, though not literally, but with mood and pacing, and the beats of sound.
It's dense, it's mannered fiction, it's got some really wicked characters. It's also a history, so the narrator at times is distant.
But I love it. It lingers on and on and on.
4th read.
This books is narrated by the maid of a young girl who is sent off to marry a French nobleman right before the French Revolution. The story follows their marriage and children and what happens to them as a family. There is a curse of sorts, or maybe it is a blessing, but it's magical and separates the family from the world of war.
The more I read this book, the more I appreciate the hard work put into it, the imagination and dedication to re-creating a sense of language, though not literally, but with mood and pacing, and the beats of sound.
It's dense, it's mannered fiction, it's got some really wicked characters. It's also a history, so the narrator at times is distant.
But I love it. It lingers on and on and on.
4th read.
January 1, 2016
Have you ever wondered what an epic fantasy quest story owuld be like if told from the perspective of the regular people who got left behind?
Yeah, me neither. But apparently someone has, and that was clearly the inspiration for this book. However, it's 95% historical fiction and it just keeps going...and going....and going....
I should have given up a long time ago. Generally if it takes me more than a month to read a book, it's not worth it. But I got halfway through it and felt like I had spent too much time on it to just walk away. More fool me! Basically, fully half the book is a "dear diary" account of a chamber maid who seems to be in love with her mistress. Some magicky stuff happens but everybody acts like it's just another Tuesday. The French Revolution happens but they're not in Paris, so all the main characters survive. A theater troupe comes to town and puts on a play and THE ENTIRE FANTASY PLOT IS RELAYED IN THE LAST THREE CHAPTERS OF THE BOOK.
If you're realllllllllly into historical fiction, then be my guest! If, like me, you were expecting a clever variation on a classic fairy tale, or even a historical fiction novel that detours into magical realism (a la Felix J. Palma's "The Map of Time") you're going to be sorely disappointed. It's very rarely that I view any book as a complete waste of my time but this was it. Two stars only because the author clearly did some painstaking research on the era, and the narrator is well developed (even if she is dull as dishwater).
Yeah, me neither. But apparently someone has, and that was clearly the inspiration for this book. However, it's 95% historical fiction and it just keeps going...and going....and going....
I should have given up a long time ago. Generally if it takes me more than a month to read a book, it's not worth it. But I got halfway through it and felt like I had spent too much time on it to just walk away. More fool me! Basically, fully half the book is a "dear diary" account of a chamber maid who seems to be in love with her mistress. Some magicky stuff happens but everybody acts like it's just another Tuesday. The French Revolution happens but they're not in Paris, so all the main characters survive. A theater troupe comes to town and puts on a play and THE ENTIRE FANTASY PLOT IS RELAYED IN THE LAST THREE CHAPTERS OF THE BOOK.
If you're realllllllllly into historical fiction, then be my guest! If, like me, you were expecting a clever variation on a classic fairy tale, or even a historical fiction novel that detours into magical realism (a la Felix J. Palma's "The Map of Time") you're going to be sorely disappointed. It's very rarely that I view any book as a complete waste of my time but this was it. Two stars only because the author clearly did some painstaking research on the era, and the narrator is well developed (even if she is dull as dishwater).
August 25, 2012
Back in 18th Century France, just at the cusp of the Revolution, a small but wealthy country estate is hit by a fairy curse - and the few people within are trapped. Immortal, comfortable, all their needs seen to by invisible servitors - but they cannot leave. There's little to do to pass the years but put on plays and amusements, and well, to cultivate the acquaintance of the local ghosts.
Berthe, who was once a maid in the house (centuries of being trapped in a small group has done quite a bit to erode class lines), at the ghost Colette's request, writes the twisted tale of how they all came to be caught like flies in amber.
I really enjoyed this book. (I was particularly delighted by it after being really disappointed by Sherman's 'Changeling.') The setting is vivid and fully realized, the flavor of the writing is wonderfully wry and witty, and the cast of crazed and odd characters is fascinating. It's not so fast-moving and does give the reader a sense of stasis - but after all, the characters are caught in such a stasis.
But I loved it - all of the comedy-of-manners-esque interactions, the bizarre obsessions and hopeless quests, and oh yes, how magical objects are something you just might choose to collect, like painted fans or decorative china plates. (I want a cabinet des Fées in my house!)
I'd highly recommend this for anyone who liked Ellen Kushner's 'Riverside' series (Sherman collaborated on one of them).
Berthe, who was once a maid in the house (centuries of being trapped in a small group has done quite a bit to erode class lines), at the ghost Colette's request, writes the twisted tale of how they all came to be caught like flies in amber.
I really enjoyed this book. (I was particularly delighted by it after being really disappointed by Sherman's 'Changeling.') The setting is vivid and fully realized, the flavor of the writing is wonderfully wry and witty, and the cast of crazed and odd characters is fascinating. It's not so fast-moving and does give the reader a sense of stasis - but after all, the characters are caught in such a stasis.
But I loved it - all of the comedy-of-manners-esque interactions, the bizarre obsessions and hopeless quests, and oh yes, how magical objects are something you just might choose to collect, like painted fans or decorative china plates. (I want a cabinet des Fées in my house!)
I'd highly recommend this for anyone who liked Ellen Kushner's 'Riverside' series (Sherman collaborated on one of them).
November 28, 2011
I must admit I'm disappointed in the novel. Which is a shame, as Greer Gilman gave it praise and I absolutely adore her work. Delia Sherman, not so much.
Ah, the French Revolution--probably one of the most exciting periods in history and yet...somehow in the magical land that I forget the name of, it's a light sneeze. Originally I thought it was going to be about that, the Revolution, but no. It's some very odd combination of fairytale, which I think I would've enjoyed without the French part, and historical fiction, which was not interesting with aristocrats untouched (that's where the fairytale part comes in, I guess) in the country safe from the world at large.
I could not stand the main character. Just, ugh. If she was in love with the woman she was a maid too, I wish it would've just been shown as everything is pathetic innuendo. Really, I got the point that she'd do anything at all for Madame and hated the Duc, blahblah (where's my spoon for my eyes) blah. It's a sad thing when it takes nearly the entire novel to get to the more interesting parts in the last few chapters.
What utterly confused me as well was the use of thee and thou when the characters were actually speaking, but the main character's more modern voice in the first person narration and oh, right, all of the French dropped left and right. Perhaps it was done for feel or some sense of authenticity, but for me it was overkill. Particularly when it came to fashion. Christ on a cracker, use the term but show me what the heck it is. While I do love historical fashion and find it interesting, I'm not sitting there with my guide to 18th century French clothing at my side. Or a French dictionary.
Thus, it was okay. I could appreciate the idea behind it and I think it could've been a lovely read save for the fact that it wasn't for me. Maybe for someone else.
Ah, the French Revolution--probably one of the most exciting periods in history and yet...somehow in the magical land that I forget the name of, it's a light sneeze. Originally I thought it was going to be about that, the Revolution, but no. It's some very odd combination of fairytale, which I think I would've enjoyed without the French part, and historical fiction, which was not interesting with aristocrats untouched (that's where the fairytale part comes in, I guess) in the country safe from the world at large.
I could not stand the main character. Just, ugh. If she was in love with the woman she was a maid too, I wish it would've just been shown as everything is pathetic innuendo. Really, I got the point that she'd do anything at all for Madame and hated the Duc, blahblah (where's my spoon for my eyes) blah. It's a sad thing when it takes nearly the entire novel to get to the more interesting parts in the last few chapters.
What utterly confused me as well was the use of thee and thou when the characters were actually speaking, but the main character's more modern voice in the first person narration and oh, right, all of the French dropped left and right. Perhaps it was done for feel or some sense of authenticity, but for me it was overkill. Particularly when it came to fashion. Christ on a cracker, use the term but show me what the heck it is. While I do love historical fashion and find it interesting, I'm not sitting there with my guide to 18th century French clothing at my side. Or a French dictionary.
Thus, it was okay. I could appreciate the idea behind it and I think it could've been a lovely read save for the fact that it wasn't for me. Maybe for someone else.
May 9, 2018
An enchanted tale set during the French Revolution, resonant of Beauty and the Beast, Bluebeard, and Sleeping Beauty, and drawing on many more fairy tales. For the most part, this reads as a densely descriptive historical fiction told through the perspective of Berthe Duvet who is the lady's maid to Adele, Marquise de Malvoueux. Names, ranks, hierarchies within the chateau are detailed (and complicated to keep up with at first). Berthe is the traditional lady's maid, devoted and loyal to her lady from childhood. She was raised in Paris, and never really feels at home at Beauxpres, the chateau, but wherever her lady stays, even when under an enchantment and in fear of revolting peasants, Berthe remains.
This is a quest tale, like so many fairy tales. the first two sons set out to break the family's curse, and fail. The twist in this tale, is that the third child is Linotte, a girl who ventures out dressed as a boy. And she has a little help from magic. There is a deep, dark forest, where the origin story of the family's curse began. With such beauty woven throughout most of this book, of the dresses, jewels, and grand aviary, there is also such dark horror as we learn what men are capable of. As with many fairy tales, there is a black vein of trauma and abuse, which is literally and symbolically buried beneath the castle.
This is much more than a fairy tale. There's a sense of social realism, especially with the hunger and living conditions of the poor, and their treatment by the rich and the church.
I felt some parts were dense and repetitive, but the further I immersed myself in this story, the richer and more rewarding it became.
This is a quest tale, like so many fairy tales. the first two sons set out to break the family's curse, and fail. The twist in this tale, is that the third child is Linotte, a girl who ventures out dressed as a boy. And she has a little help from magic. There is a deep, dark forest, where the origin story of the family's curse began. With such beauty woven throughout most of this book, of the dresses, jewels, and grand aviary, there is also such dark horror as we learn what men are capable of. As with many fairy tales, there is a black vein of trauma and abuse, which is literally and symbolically buried beneath the castle.
This is much more than a fairy tale. There's a sense of social realism, especially with the hunger and living conditions of the poor, and their treatment by the rich and the church.
I felt some parts were dense and repetitive, but the further I immersed myself in this story, the richer and more rewarding it became.
August 17, 2019
The Goodreads blurb claims that this book is "Narrated by the family's chatterbox chambermaid, it is a rich, sinister, and funny novel of romance, sorcery, and aristocracy." I found almost all of these descriptors to be false. The maid's no chatterbox. While the setting may be rich and the plot and some characters sinister, it wasn't at all funny. But most disappointingly it wasn't even that interesting. I kept waiting for the real book to start. And while I was patiently wading through words to get there, the whole book passed and then ended. I kept hoping for the book I imagined it to be and didn't much enjoy the book that it was.
January 31, 2019
I generally really like Delia Sherman's writing, but this was not quite what I expected. I don't mind slow-moving novels about court intrigue or aristocratic households, but most of the characters were over-the-top unlikable to me. The narrator is billed as being clever and sharp-tongued, but she struck me mostly as distant and a little cowardly, rarely able to stand up for herself or anybody else, or even to express a strong opinion, even as everything around her dissolved into pandemonium. The most likable character is Pompey, then Linotte, but both disappear after a while on various quests. The only people Berthe seems to like is Pompey and Adele, her mistress -- for reasons unknown, as this woman displays absolutely no positive personality traits. And of course, (TW) as in every adult novel with women as main characters, a bunch of people inevitably end up raped (including Linotte, in that classically florid faux-historical prose -- think V. C. Andrews, but toned down a notch), not to mention dismembered, then raped again I guess. (TW) Lovely! But it's ok, because the ghosts of the children killed that way come back and Berthe's mistress breastfeeds them into peace. Or something.
Oh well.
Oh well.
July 2, 2009
This mostly reads like a historical novel set in pre-revolutionary France, but fantastical elements slowly creep into the plot. I absolutely adored the main character--I wanted her to be a friend of mine, and I wanted her to figure out why she liked cuddling and kissing her mistress so much. Her unwitting lesbian love is *adorable*.
June 11, 2016
A delightful novel inspired by and written in the style of the fairy tales of Madame d'Aulnoy. Highly recommended, especially for fans of Susanna Clarke, Sarah Waters, and, of course, Ellen Kushner.
October 10, 2017
I wanted to love this.
I never got to the point where I did.
I never got to the point where I did.
June 21, 2023
Did I enjoy this book? Non, as our excessively French narrator would say. But I couldn't put it down. Finishing it was like waking from a nightmare, or breaking out of sleep paralysis.
Around the two-thirds mark, this book descends into madness -- disgusting, horrifying, transfixing madness -- but the beginning was rather boring. It took me a few chapters to get over the narrator's affectations -- and her long-winded asides about her magic quill, her rosewood, or whatever, writing desk, and how, là, une unimportant femme de chambre like her would not dare tell her story if she were not compelled to by... etc.
Anyways, the middle of this book was probably my favorite part. The plot here is less important than the atmosphere, which is fey and dreamlike, and which, like a dream, carries you inexorably forward in an amnesiac haze.
Around the two-thirds mark, this book descends into madness -- disgusting, horrifying, transfixing madness -- but the beginning was rather boring. It took me a few chapters to get over the narrator's affectations -- and her long-winded asides about her magic quill, her rosewood, or whatever, writing desk, and how, là, une unimportant femme de chambre like her would not dare tell her story if she were not compelled to by... etc.
Anyways, the middle of this book was probably my favorite part. The plot here is less important than the atmosphere, which is fey and dreamlike, and which, like a dream, carries you inexorably forward in an amnesiac haze.
October 31, 2021
Winner of the Mythopoeic Award in 1994, this book is a tour de force of alternative history and light fantasy. It takes the story of a dysfunctional noble family in eighteenth century France through the Revolution bracketed by a four-hundred-year-old family curse as told through the eyes of a chambermaid. The story is richly conveyed with personal details, history, society, and gossip, so much so that the curse is occasionally lost in the telling. However, the telling is superb. I read Through a Brazen Mirror by Sherman about a year and a half ago and loved it. So I went into this book expecting a lot and I got it.
Come visit my blog for the full review…
https://itstartedwiththehugos.blogspo...
Come visit my blog for the full review…
https://itstartedwiththehugos.blogspo...
July 31, 2018
A slightly mad fairy-tale, although, maybe more of a historical fiction/fantasy with a sub plot of peculiar magic. A tale told slowly, (not for everyone hence some of the disgruntled reviews) recreating pre-revolutionary France, in wonderful detail, narrated by the maid devoted to her Duchess. All the magical action is saved for the last quarter of the book, but it's the detailed story and prose that is delightful.
April 14, 2018
4.5
Una narrazione ricca e lussureggiante, una fiaba francese lunga quattrocento pagine dallo stile impeccabile e dalla ricostruzione storica grandiosa.
Sfuggono le cinque stelline per il ritmo forse troppo lento, che mi ha imposto ogni tanto una pausa prima di riprenderlo in mano.
Una narrazione ricca e lussureggiante, una fiaba francese lunga quattrocento pagine dallo stile impeccabile e dalla ricostruzione storica grandiosa.
Sfuggono le cinque stelline per il ritmo forse troppo lento, che mi ha imposto ogni tanto una pausa prima di riprenderlo in mano.
February 10, 2022
DNF. Got to 25% and gave up. It's boring and mundane, and I don't care about any of the characters.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
February 2, 2024
Had a hard time getting into this one. I liked some of the characters, but the story's pacing seemed off to me
August 24, 2024
I found this to be a really drawn out and hard read. It really wasn’t for me.
Read
May 1, 2017I liked this book a lot when it was new in the 1980s, but I _loved_ it when I re-read it before I interviewed Delia at a recent convention. Anyone who likes historical detail (especially women's historical detail), France, or thoughtful off-trail fantasy will be very happy.
January 30, 2026
Content warning for racism, sexual assault, and graphic description of sexual abuse and mass murder of children. Yeah. You read it right. WTF. I thought this was gonna be a cozy little bit of vintage 90s mannerpunk filled with sapphic yearning. Ugh, nope. It started out fairly charming but was too long and got upsettingly gruesome. None of the characters were particularly likable. I probably would have DNFed but needed it for the hidden gem square of my queer/tgnc authors card.
November 10, 2018
I discovered Delia Sherman through the excellent anthology Fantasy Magazine, October 2014: Women Destroy Fantasy! Special Issue, and though the pacing structure verges on plodding, The Porcelain Dove offers a remarkable glimpse into pre-revolutionary France. Full disclosure: this is an era I normally would have little interest in; the decadence of the "nobility" is already clear enough to make delving into its intricacies seem a bit of a bore. That said, Sherman does a remarkable job enlivening the complicity, complexity, and tragedy of the serving class. Her characters are lively and nuanced.
in the years before the beggar came, Artide was the most interesting man I knew, with his peasant's face and his philosophe's mind that was equally hospitable to Magic and Science, Art and Nature. Ghosts were as real to him as electricity, witches as plausible as mathematicians. I'd never met anyone like him. And besides, he never flirted with me.The narrator-protagonist Berthe is believably flawed; her short-sightedness, racism, moments of kindness, and so-on lift this tale well above the norm. If there are a trifle too many details about period clothing and slightly obscure French phrases invoked, the former seems justified in the work that it does outlining Berthe's own superficial concerns. The latter not so much, but it's countered by enough good prose that - at the 40% mark - I'm willing to forgive.
without the beggar and his curse, the events of the next twenty years had neither order nor meaning. Jean says this is great nonsense. Things happen. Sometimes they make sense and more often they don't, but none of it means anything in particular. Once a good tale's bought its teller his fill of wine, it has served its whole purpose and might as well be forgotten. He's wrong, of course: he doesn't even really believe he's right.Thus far, the fantasy element is quite suppressed; will be curious to see how it unfolds in the second half. This is certainly a long read; its pacing gives it the air of a biography - this too remains to be justified. Finally, the editorial blurb is entirely inaccurate: the narrator isn't in the least "irrepressible" nor is the story particularly "dazzling" so far. I would, rather, describe it as "character-driven" or a "detailed rumination on the luscious grotesque life of the moneyed classes and those that support them."
June 5, 2015
I can only describe this book as magical realism, but about the first two thirds of it seem to be straightforward historical fiction. Berthe, the narrator, is the devoted lady's maid to Adele de Fourchet, an 18th century upper class French girl whose parents arrange her marriage to an aristocrat, the Duc de Malvoeux. Their lives are spent in a round of expensive and exclusive pleasures: chocolate every morning, new gowns, books, entertaining, and traveling back and forth between Paris and the Duc's country estate, Beauxpres. The Duc is obsessed with collecting birds. Thousands of francs go into maintaining and heating his aviary, caring for and feeding his exotic birds, and financing expeditions to find more birds. Adele and the Duc have three children: a dissipated eldest son, Leon; pious young Justin; and a daughter, Linotte. At first, the occasional mentions of magic are so subtle that it's not clear whether the magic is "real" or is only the result of belief and imagination. It is hinted that Adele's black pageboy, Pompey, has magical powers and is tutoring young Linotte in magic. Beaxpres is bordered by a forest said to be haunted by the ghosts of dead children. The palace also contains a room called "The Cabinet des Fees" with cases of artifacts said to contain magical powers. However, Berthe and Adele, both children of the Enlightenment, dismiss these magical elements as mere peasant superstition. But when a powerful sorcerer shows up disguised as a beggar, he is rejected three times by the Duc and curses the whole family to never know peace or happiness until the Porcelain Dove is found. From that point, the novel makes use of traditional fairy tale elements. Both sons fail in the quest for the Porcelain Dove, but the youngest, daughter Linotte goes forth to eventual success. In the meantime, however, Beauxpres is attacked in the throes of the French Revolution. The novel's magical resolution is truly unique in both tone and content, as the terrible secret deep in the history of Beauxpres has to be uncovered and atoned for. That's all I can say without spoilers! I don't think this novel is going to become a favorite that I'll read over and over again in my remaining years, but I did really enjoy it. It's a unique creation that deserves more readers.
September 8, 2025
Rating: 4 ill-fated birds out of 5
Fantasy of manners as it should be sans too abrupt ending. Set in 18th century France the almost-period novel about what the peculiar chambermaid saw and experienced plays around with fairytales and magic realism. I recommend for everyone who doesn't enjoy fast-fashion literature and appreciates slow story-building, rich prose (I had to search for the meaning of various words, especially particular pieces of clothing and furniture), many small characters and their small lives and the crawling unrest underneath (caused not only by the call of French revolution but by the much closer workings of the family curse).
The dry humor is present and much to my liking. The supernatural aspects are scarce at first, the social problems not voiced aloud but hidden in the context which brings gradually more and more unsettling tone.
The book is well-researched, cleverly written and full of references. The sapphic vibes between the narrator and her mistress (I personally pitied and disliked the lady) are somewhat cute though toxic from contemporary pov. I quite enjoy (pseudo)historic novel not focused on the straight romance (this book is not focused on any romance and the narrator seems to be ace although it is not disclosed).
I would love to read more about Pompey and Sorcerer Maid but this story is told by the witness, not the classic heroes. Still the book goes to my favorites shelf with all its folk tale charm and creepiness.
TW: domestic and sexual violence, racism, murders
Fantasy of manners as it should be sans too abrupt ending. Set in 18th century France the almost-period novel about what the peculiar chambermaid saw and experienced plays around with fairytales and magic realism. I recommend for everyone who doesn't enjoy fast-fashion literature and appreciates slow story-building, rich prose (I had to search for the meaning of various words, especially particular pieces of clothing and furniture), many small characters and their small lives and the crawling unrest underneath (caused not only by the call of French revolution but by the much closer workings of the family curse).
The dry humor is present and much to my liking. The supernatural aspects are scarce at first, the social problems not voiced aloud but hidden in the context which brings gradually more and more unsettling tone.
The book is well-researched, cleverly written and full of references. The sapphic vibes between the narrator and her mistress (I personally pitied and disliked the lady) are somewhat cute though toxic from contemporary pov. I quite enjoy (pseudo)historic novel not focused on the straight romance (this book is not focused on any romance and the narrator seems to be ace although it is not disclosed).
I would love to read more about Pompey and Sorcerer Maid but this story is told by the witness, not the classic heroes. Still the book goes to my favorites shelf with all its folk tale charm and creepiness.
TW: domestic and sexual violence, racism, murders
September 15, 2008
This is a really fun novel that combines elements of 18th century French history, French fairy tales, and magical realism. The narrator is Berthe Duvet, ladies maid to Adele, who becomes Duchess of Malvoeux. Berthe is a wonderful fictional voice, a strong woman who loves her friends, does her job well, suffers, perseveres, never marries, and holds strong loyalty to Adele and the family she marries into. Set against the background of the French Revolution, the Malvoeux family struggle against a curse set into motion by the horrible deeds of an ancestor, and their own refusal to help poor people in need. They must find the porcelain dove or the family will be destroyed. Throughout the book, the rich and for the most part men, are ineffectual, unintelligent, selfish, and often sick and twisted. The working class people and women save the day! This is not a perfect book but is one that I love – I actually re-read it – I love the historical setting, the characters, and the story that moves along without losing sight of setting and character development. The touches of magic, horror and outright “soap opera” added to the background of the French Revolution will please fans of many different genres – history, fantasy, romance – it’s all here! A great book when you need to be caught up in something completely outside yourself.
January 30, 2016
The Porcelain Dove is a fantasy of manners that takes place in France in the late eighteenth century. It is told from the point of view of Berthe Duvet, a duchess' chambermaid. She is telling the story of how she came to be given immortality in a never changing castle where the inhabitants are waited upon by bodiless hands and entertained by demons. It is a story about how her master came to be cursed and how the curse was broken and how she found herself living in a version of "happily ever after." The back drop of the story is France leading up to and during the French revolution. I really enjoyed the book, it was like reading historical fiction and a fairy tale in one. There were times where the story went slow for me and I grew impatient for the magical parts, but over all it was a good read. Part of me was unsatisfied with not knowing what happened to some characters (since the story was told in first person, if Berthe did not know it neither did the reader), but another part of me was happy that it did not tie up all the lose ends too neatly. I would recommend it to anyone that appreciates the genre, especially if you liked Sorcery and Cecelia or Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell.
August 7, 2012
I did like this a lot. However, it bothered me somewhat that the curse was tied in to the events of the French revolution and a country-wide famine. Are we supposed to believe that an entire country of people or at least one class of people were all punished by the same curse? That seems excessive, even considering the magnitude of the offense. If we don't believe that, then we're left with... what, exactly? The curse being madness? Unsuitability? Most of the character flaws that created what could have been a curse were there long before the curse was enacted, so what exactly did the curse add to it? Either we have a vastly overpowered curse, or a curse that's just barely there - more of a shadow over their spirits than an actuality.
In regards to the revolution - I'd known the book incorporated the revolution when I picked up the book. But since it takes place over such a vast spread of years, I'd forgotten that it was coming. And then I came upon the "Let them eat cake" quote (paraphrased, of course) and it gave me that feeling of dread all over again.
In regards to the revolution - I'd known the book incorporated the revolution when I picked up the book. But since it takes place over such a vast spread of years, I'd forgotten that it was coming. And then I came upon the "Let them eat cake" quote (paraphrased, of course) and it gave me that feeling of dread all over again.
June 7, 2008
The great fun in this novel is the juxtaposition of a rich and detailed portrayal of revolutionary era France with a kind of European-flavored magical realism. The narrator Berthe is a wonderfully realized and accessible lady's maid whose down-to-earth approach to narrating the events in her life, both mundane and mystical, is an agreeable background for the highly dramatic events that occur around her.
I enjoyed the first half of this book more than the second. I can't pinpoint exactly where the seam is but around halfway there is an emotional and tonal transition, and the pacing which is congruent at the start begins to feel too slow.
Overall, still an enjoyable read especially if you're a fan of historical novels.
I enjoyed the first half of this book more than the second. I can't pinpoint exactly where the seam is but around halfway there is an emotional and tonal transition, and the pacing which is congruent at the start begins to feel too slow.
Overall, still an enjoyable read especially if you're a fan of historical novels.
January 9, 2017
When I think or am asked "What are your favorite books?" I never forget to add "The Porcelain Dove." It is an exquisite piece of fiction, as satisfying as any other classic I have ever read and I am primarily a reader of English classics. Ms. Sherman sets a very high bar for herself. This is a book about layers––layers of personal relationships, political relationships, layers of perception, layers of comprehension. And she manages to get every aspect right.
And at the same time, it is a MAGICAL book. It holds you in its grip, each word leading you deeper into its essential mysteries. For all that it is a historical-fantasy, this book reveals more truth about the essence of being human.
Any desert island would be bereft without a copy.
And at the same time, it is a MAGICAL book. It holds you in its grip, each word leading you deeper into its essential mysteries. For all that it is a historical-fantasy, this book reveals more truth about the essence of being human.
Any desert island would be bereft without a copy.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 42 reviews