Book Review: A Lady's Point of View by Jacqueline Diamond | Read in a Single Sitting

(original cover)

(author’s Kindle re-release cover)

All through primary school I thought it was completely normal not to be able to see the blackboard. I just assumed that everyone else also memorised what was written on it while we were having “group” time on the floor, and then worked from memory when they went back to their seats.

Apparently not.

When I was twelve, I was prescribed glasses, and a whole world of edges and corners and precision opened up to me. Trees had leaves! Street lamps were more than great fuzzy bursts in the sky! The milkbar prices weren’t plucked from the air, but were actually written on the whiteboard behind the counter!

But although I have myriad options open to me when it comes to my vision–glasses, contacts, and perhaps even eye surgery one day–Meg Linley, the protagonist of the Regency romance A Lady’s Point of View, is far more limited when it comes to hers. The eldest daughter of a middle class family that has fallen on bad times, Meg is doing the rounds of the debutante circuit in order to snap up a suitable match and thus have a means of providing for her family in the future. Unfortunately, having poor eyesight at Meg’s age is quite the dealbreaker, and she is forbidden to wear corrective lenses lest someone see her as flawed.

Unfortunately, without glasses, Meg is rather like me: a danger to herself and others. And when you’re doing your best to comport yourself in high society, stumbling about and unwittingly snubbing various eligible chaps is not the way to go. As none of the others know about her visual woes, Meg’s poor peripheral vision results in the scandal of the season–she fails to acknowledge a close family friend and possible suitor.

Meg’s mother and sister rally to save their good name, and decide that their best option is to send Meg away to stay with their cousins in the countryside until the scandal blows over or Meg’s attractive sister finds a suitor of her own (whichever comes first). And thus begins (well, proceeds) the comedy of errors. Meg’s poor vision continues to curse her even beyond London: rather than ending up at her cousins’, she mistakenly finds herself on the wrong carriage and winds up at the manor of Lord Bryn, where all assume that she is the governess they are expecting.

Meg half-heartedly attempts to disabuse them of their notions, but then decides to enjoy her new circumstances. Bryn’s children are witty and delightful, Bryn himself is quite the catch–and even the woman Bryn’s family hope will pair with him is a lovely lass. And best of all? Meg has a pair of glasses to call her own.

This, perhaps, is my favourite part of this book: that the ugly duckling doesn’t become beautiful for ditching her glasses, but rather becomes beautiful when she puts them on.

I love the subversion of this too-often seen trope, and Diamond has so much fun with this element that the result is just splendid. Admittedly, the plot, which is a double romance also featuring Meg’s sister Angela and her various beaux and romantic shenanigans, goes rather where you expect it to, but it’s a thoroughly enjoyable, farcical ride. The constant confusion of characters’ identities and relations, all to humorous effect, makes for some hilarious reading, and one imagines that Diamond had rather a fun time indeed writing this one. Both Meg and Angela are appealing, intelligent characters, and the other female characters overall are drawn with warmth, empathy and sophistication, an approach that always trumps one where the women are conniving harpies. I might have preferred a slightly more drawn-out approach to the eventual pairings that occur, as in both cases the sudden realisation of all-encompassing love feels a little abrupt, but I suppose we are dealing with an era where marriages were a time-conscious financially based transaction.

If you’re a romance lover who enjoys sharp-witted humour and ludicrous situations, you’ll enjoy this one.

Rating: (very good)