So I am finishing the last book of the series by Marie Brennan: ‘The Memoirs of Lady Trent.’ I find myself in pre-mourning. I have been on the last ten pages for nearly two full days – reluctant to finish.
I go through this with almost every series I read – but none quite as acutely as this.
Perhaps it is Lady Trent’s vitality and quest for adventure. It’s set in the Victorian age. Her curiosity takes no effective notice of social expectations. Her total, though gracious, commitment to following her true calling continually brushes off the common practice of suppressing power and agency in women. She simply follows through with what she’s meant to do.
But what makes it especially hard to give up this series is that she discovered the – oh – I shouldn’t give it away.
I love reading books that are thoroughly worked through so that everything about them feels real – that if I just turned the right corner everyone would be there. I showed Peter Lady Trent’s portrait this morning. He buttoned up his lips and quickly slid out the door on his run without a word. Hmm.
Dragons have been a particular interest of mine since high school. If dragons existed, no doubt, Lady Trent’s discoveries would be the foundational basis for their scientific renderings.
Long live Draconeans! (Oops. I gave it away!)