Blogging about siblings in fiction last week got me to thinking about other family relationships in novels. I’ve always liked children in books. At first I think a lot of it was wanting someone my own age to identify with. I was ten when I first read Georgette Heyer’s The Grand Sophy (or rather when my mom read it to me). I remember being fascinated to meet Amabel (the hero’s little) sister who was the same age I was at the time. But at the same time, I was intrigued by heroes and heroines who combined their adventures with the role of parents or surrogate parents. This interest grew stronger as I got older. Nearly all my books have children as characters, going back to my mom’s and my Anthea Malcolm Regencies. The hero’s children, the heroine’s children, their children together, younger siblings wards, street urchins, waifs, a governess’s pupils.
From a writer’s perspective, children serve a wealth of plot purposes. They can be a great source of motivation. For instance, in Mary Stewart’s Nine Coaches Waiting, the heroine decides in the middle of the book that she can’t risk trusting the hero. The fact that the safety of the young boy who is her charge is at stake raises the stakes and puts her in an impossible dilemma. She might risk trusting her heart over her head on her own. She can’t with young Philippe’s life at stake. Chidlren can be the source of unbearable dilemmas (Sophie’s Choice, the chess game in Dorothy Dunnett’s Pawn in Frankincense). They can also be wonderful truth-tellers, particularly among the intricate social codes of many historical eras. Think of Felix in Georgette Heyer’s Frederica or Edmund in Heyer’s Sylvester. And they can be acute observers of adult events, though they can also misinterpret those events (Briony in Atonement).
I knew I wanted Charles and Mélanie to have children even before I decided their son would be abducted in Secrets of a Lady. The crisis of confronting the lies on which their marriage was build was so much stronger if they had children to consider. And once I decided Colin’s abduction would be the driving force of the book, I knew I wanted them to have another child. I wanted Jessica so there would be a child they could interact with during the book, so that in the midst of the intense crisis I could deal with both of them being parents. Though Beneath a Silent Moon, The Mask of Night, and the other books I envision in the series don’t revolve round the children in the way Secrets of a Lady does, Charles and Mélanie’s roles as parents remains key in my vision of the series. I love the tension of their lives as spies and their responsibilities as parents (a tension Len Deighton wrote about beautifully in the Bernard and Fiona Samson books). Colin and Jessica’s presence balances the glamour and adventure of their parents’ lives with the practical reality of parenting . It creates tension (Charles accuses Mélanie of forgetting she has children when she runs particularly dangerous risks in Beneath a Silent Moon; Mélanie says that’s something she never forgets). It anchors them to every day reality and gives them much needed moments of warmth and joy.
Do you like children in books? Why or why not or in what circumstances? Any books in which you think the children are particularly well integrated into the story? Any thoughts on Charles and Mélanie as parents? Or on how you’d like to see Colin and Jessica in future books in the series?
In keep with this week’s topic, the latest edition to the Fraser Correspondence is a letter Mélanie writes to Isobel Lydgate in which she discusses Colin and Jessica, just as the Frasers are about to return to Britain in 1817.
Tracy Grant - Novelist 
March 10, 2008 at 1:56 pm
I haven’t read very many books where the hero/heroine have children, but I was very impressed with Sophie in Michel Faber’s ‘The Crimson Petal’ – she has a voice of her own, and I was willing her to form a bond with Sugar, her father’s courtesan/mistress; I also thought Sugar’s response to the young girl was very natural in her awkwardness and frustration. And Atticus Finch, in ‘To Kill a Mockingbird’, another favourite book, is very much defined by his interaction with and love for his children, as the story is told through his young daughter’s eyes. The child’s perspective was captured brilliantly by Harper Lee.
However, when discussing with a friend ‘what happened next’ for Orczy’s Sir Percy and Marguerite, I thought that a family would be the obvious fulfilment of their romance and marriage, but the friend thought that they would remain childless, preferring to focus on themselves and enjoy their own company. And I’m not sure I could imagine them, particularly Percy, as parents, either! I certainly wouldn’t wish for Percy to lose his wife in childbirth, as the 1999 series had it!
March 10, 2008 at 3:08 pm
I liked Julia Quinn’s To Sir Phillip With Love, because the heroine actually gave the hero a break because of his children. However, the subplot with the children sort of dwindled as the romance heated up, which was disappointing.
March 10, 2008 at 4:59 pm
Sarah, Sophie in “The Crimson Petal and the White” is a great example as are the children in “To Kill a Mockingbird.” The children are very much integral to the story in both books and their interactions with the adult characters reveals a great deal about the adults.
Interesting about Percy and Marguerite. I’ve always assumed they would have children (though certainly *not* that Marguerite would be in childbed!). For one thing it would be an accepted part of their lives in that era (and Percy, for all his uniqueness, is very much a product of his time and place). For another, we know they had children because the baroness wrote sequels about their descendants :-). I actually think they would make quite good parents–Percy is certainly good at being a mentor and Marguerite is quite warm and affectionate. Cate, if you’re reading this, I’d love to hear you comment!
March 10, 2008 at 5:14 pm
Belinda, I liked the children in “To Sir Phillip with Love” too. I thought it was a great choice of Julia Quinn’s, because it gave the book such a different dynamic from the prior books in the series. The learned a lot about both Phillip and Eloise from seeing them interact with the children, and I loved the way Phillip’s relationship with his children changed. It’s been a while since I read it, but I remember the children being pretty strong presences throughout the book. I wouldn’t have minded seeing a bit more of them–but then I often find myself wanting more of subplots and secondary characters!
March 10, 2008 at 8:03 pm
Of course, of course – I can pass on the story (Pimpernel and Rosemary), but the Baroness must have the last word on the continuation of the Blakeney line! How could I overlook that? And yes, I can see Marguerite as a mother, but Percy, for me, could either be a success as a parent, or a disaster (as in reality); and I imagine he would have issues with the risk to Marguerite, and having to share her affections (he comes across as slightly … unstable … on occasions). Plus, neither had very strong parenting role models – Marguerite lost her parents, and either had to grow up fast to care for Armand, or was raised by an indulgent and devoted brother and then sent away to a convent (depending on how old Armand is!), whereas Percy was torn from his mentally ill mother and neglected by his father, more or less raising himself. As I say, parenthood could come naturally and easily to them, their children enjoying a secure and loving upbringing, or produce interesting results … 😉
March 10, 2008 at 8:34 pm
Isn’t it clear in the books that Armand is younger? I thought so, but very likely I’m just assuming that from various adaptations. It’s true neither Percy nor Marguerite had strong parenting role models, but I both are very conscientious and I think would grow in the roles as many people do in real life. I wish the baroness had written a book with them as young parents–it would have been interesting to see.
March 11, 2008 at 4:02 am
Well, Percy and Margot definitely have at least one child; since there is a descendent.
Percy as a parent? I think he would be both thrilled and terrified. (Not to mention, helpless with a girl-child)
One advantage of his wealth and class is that he can hire dozens of people to care for a child; but I do see Margot as being more “hands on”.
It’s a standing joke that Armand is supposed to be about 8 years older than Marguerite in TSP, but seems to be a younger brother in Eldorado. (I’d love to know how to drop 8 years.)
March 11, 2008 at 4:26 am
When I think of Percy as a father, I think of Harriet Vane’s description of the sort of father she thinks Peter would be–“Casual, apologetic, reluctant and adorable.” I actually think Percy would have an easier time with a daughter he’d indulgence than with a son, though as I said he does quite well as a mentor to the young men in the League. I do think Marguerite would be more hands on. Like Mélanie, she would have been raised that way herself, not coming from an aristocratic family. (Which is part of why Mélanie, in this week’s Fraser Correspondence entry, is having a bit of difficulty adjusting to the idea of a “proper nursery.”)
Harriet, btw, is twenty-nine in “Strong Poison” and then twenty-six in “Have His Carcase” which takes place two years later. Mélanie also went from being twenty-eight to twenty-six now that I think of it, but that was within drafts of the same book, so I felt I still had license to play with time.
March 15, 2008 at 3:28 am
I like children in books. That is, I like them in children’s fictions in which they could shine as heroes and heroines. I like the children in “A wrinkle in time” and its sequels, as well as the 4 siblings/cousins in a set of mystery/detective stories (set in Wales?) that I read a long time ago and have unfortunately forgotten what the titles are or who wrote them.
As to children in popular fictions for adults, I am afraid many of them suffer from Stock Character Syndrome. I understand that authors create them to advance the stories, but I sometimes want to scream “They are little persons. Don’t treat them like throw away props!” at these authors. 🙂 Most of the books that I like with children in them either include a few passages from the children’s point of views, or convinced me that these children have the potentials of growing into interesting adults. I’ve just started reading “A Thousand Splendid Suns” and I like it that the author opens the story with a child’s view of her parents, thus the complex world into which she is born. Similarly, I like it in “Secrets of a Lady” that we first see Charles and Mélanie through Colin’s eyes. I’ve recently read “Rightfully His” and I have to say that I like Serena very much. I think she is one of those children who show potentials.
March 15, 2008 at 5:02 am
That’s a really good point, Sharon. I think writing form kid’s pov can help make them people in their own right. I’m trying to think if Georgette Heyer writes from Felix’s pov in “Frederica”–I’m not sure if she does, but Felix and his brother Jessamy are definitely their own people, and it’s fun to think of them as adults. I reworked several of the passages from Colin’s pov to try to make sure I was seeing the world through his eyes. I liked having the first glimpse of Charles and Mélanie be from their son’s perspective. I wrote about them from Colin’s pov before I’d written any scenes with them, so in a sense I discovered them through Colin’s pov myself. So glad you liked Serena–she was a lot of fun to write! (I don’t think I ever used her pov, but I have a very clear sense of her thought process).
March 15, 2008 at 4:52 pm
My main problem with children as characters is; too often they are UWC – Unnaturally Wise Children, smarter than mom and dad.
Or they are, as Sharon said, “throwaway props” who only exist when they are needed to say (lisp) something cute.
Or they are a prop to show the Goodness of the heroine (because she loves kids and wants a dozen) and the Evilness of the villainness (who doesn’t like children or want any of her own).
One (another) thing I enjoy about your books, Tracy is the acknowledgement that aristocratic parents were not like the soccer moms of today – they didn’t spend 24 hours a day with the kiddies.
March 15, 2008 at 5:13 pm
I saw The Other Boleyn Girl. I did enjoy it; but I would have enjoyed it more if it wasn’t *called* The Other Bolyen Girl.
I mean, if one is going to make a movie based on a book, it should contain the book’s… point of view. (Whether or not the book is “historically accurate”)
SPOILERS
As I predicted, Mary was “softened up” in the movie.
In the book, Mary was much more active in the plot to make Anne the queen. She helped Anne seduce Henry. She betrayed Catherine by giving her uncle a note the queen had received from Spain – because she was a woman, and her family was all she had.
She did NOT rush to Henry to beg for Anne’s life; she knew she could not.
Their mother did not object to Anne and Mary being used; she was just as eager for power as her husband and brother.
March 15, 2008 at 7:59 pm
Tracy–someone has asked you a question over at the Avon Ladies board!
March 16, 2008 at 2:51 am
No, I don’t recall reading Serena’s pov, but she comes to life for me because in addition to her wiser-beyond-her-age remarks, I also get to see her dealing with issues in her own life, i.e. her growing up. Perhaps those passages are there for Charlie’s benefit, but their inclusion makes me feel that Serena has a life of her own “off page” although I am not privileged to see it. Felix is alive because he has his concerns and is relentless in pursuing them. Jessamy comes to live for me because IIRC he lapses into a child of his age in a moment of crisis, despite his best efforts at behaving reasonably and wisely (above his age) most of the times. In each case, I am convinced that the child is his or her own person and has his or her own purpose other than being cute or amusing or showing off the author’s wit.
As to that first scene with the Frasers in the nursery, I think it absolutely brilliant: not only do we first see Mélanie & Charles through Colin’s pov, but we also see their whole story through a child’s pov. How neat is that the children’s story foreshadows the parents’! (Of course I didn’t realize that when I first read it. It’s only upon second reading that I realized all Colin’s feeling could apply to Mélanie.)
March 16, 2008 at 11:35 pm
JMM, I so agree. I think kids can be a great foil for showing things about adult characters, but as you and Sharon articulated so well the child characters need to be people in their own right.
Yes, I do wish the film of “The Other Boleyn Girl” hadn’t made Mary quite so “nice.” I had mixed feelings about the changes to Elizabeth Boleyn’s character–part of me missed the ruthless schemer from the books (who made it clear the Boleyn children had no other family allies). But I see why they changed her character in the movie–it allowed a character to articulate some of the things the audience in thinking, and it added tension to the scenes with Norfolk and Thomas Boleyn by having her not share their agenda.
March 16, 2008 at 11:40 pm
Edwardgaiety, thanks so much for letting me know about the comment on the Avon Board! I hadn’t realized it was there.
Sharon, Serena definitely has a life off the page in my head, so I’m glad that came through in the book! And I’m so pleased you noticed the thematic parallels to Mélanie and Charles and in the opening with Colin and Jessica. I worked hard to structure the scene and Colin’s thoughts to set up the themes of the book. So glad that came through!
March 22, 2008 at 3:49 am
I just want to say that it was an “Oh, my God!” moment when I noticed the parallels, and I felt such delight that Colin “speaks up” for Mélanie, who seems too resigned through out the course of the events. May I ask how you came up with the parallels?
March 22, 2008 at 6:48 am
I knew I wanted Colin to have been in trouble earlier in the evening, so that when he’s missing at first they think he’s hiding or perhaps has run away. When I started to think through why Colin had might have got in trouble, I thought of the themes of the book–trust, betrayal, seeing a story from different perspective. I knew Colin was going to have a little sister (as I’ve mentioned, I wanted anotehr child for Mélanie and Charles to interact with) and at the time a good friend’s kids were very into wooden swords from the Renaissance Faire. With that, the scene with the wooden sword and battle axe fell into place. At one point it was longer (before I cut it down for pacing) and Charles actually said something to Colin like “Jessica trusts you. It’s a big thing when someone gives you their trust.” A bit heavy-handed, perhaps. I’m glad the parallels came through without it!