Becoming Josephine by Heather Webb

The last time I saw Napoleon, he was hanging out in a circular tomb with a viewing deck above. My French teacher told me it was his plan that for time immemorial, anyone who visited his grave would be obliged to bow their head to him. Imagine what it would be like to be married to such a guy?


That's the task Heather Webb takes on in her debut historical novel Becoming Josephine.

She's gotten great reviews already (it came out New Year's Eve--an auspicious date for starting a new writing life, and it has already paid off. Heather just got a second book deal for a novel about Camille Claudel, Rodin's lover!) and has been enjoying a great launch for her wonderful book.

Here's the tantalizing description of Becoming Josephine:

Rose Tascher sails from her Martinique plantation to Paris to 
trade her Creole black magic culture for love and adventure. 
She arrives exultant to follow her dreams of attending Court 
with Alexandre, her elegant aristocrat and soldier husband. 
But Alexandre dashes her hopes and abandons her amid the 
tumult of the French Revolution.

Through her savoir faire, Rose secures her footing in high 
society, reveling in handsome men and glitzy balls—until 
the heads of her friends begin to roll.

After narrowly escaping death in the blood-drenched cells 
of Les Carmes prison, she reinvents herself as Josephine, 
a socialite of status and power. Yet her youth is 
fading, and Josephine must choose between a precarious 
independence and the love of an awkward suitor. Little 
does she know, he would become the most powerful man of 
his century- Napoleon Bonaparte.

BECOMING JOSEPHINE is a novel of one woman’s journey to 
find eternal love and stability, and ultimately to 
find herself.

Heather Webb

I've been enjoying the book very much. I think one strength so far has been its unflinching look at the truly violent world of the French Revolution. It was not called the Terror for nothing--and Webb really shows us Paris upended and dangerous. A scene where Josephine watches a nun running for her life (the revolutionaries despised Catholicism and ordered a death-on-sight law for priests in 1793) was memorable and harrowing.

I also appreciated learning that Josephine was not a Parisienne by birth--she was a Creole born in Martinique. Scenes from her childhood on that tropical island fortify her character as a woman who endures much suffering to land on top...temporarily.

Josephine's life was rich, colorful, tragic--and although I haven't finished the book yet, I can see Webb has perfectly told her tale. Heartily recommended!





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Spring Book Recommendations

It’s time for my quasi-seasonal  recommended books list. Luckily, I’ve had a spate of happy reading lately so there are some great books to mention.

1. Someone Knows My Name by Lawrence Hill. I’m impressed beyond belief with this book and its deep, lengthy, complex look at one woman’s life. Aminata Diallo is only 11 years old when she’s snatched from her village in Africa and taken to Sierra Leone to undergo the Middle Passage to South Carolina. Moving from owner to owner and living through traumatic events, Aminata’s spirit and luminous grace carry her through. The author’s research was thorough to the point of Ph.D.hood, I’d think; the list of referenced nonfiction books in the Author’s Note was years’ worth of reading.

I enjoyed the fruits of that research: learning how indigo dye is made, what it was like to be a slave at the time of the American Revolution and all its rhetoric referring to Americans as “slaves” of Britain, learning about the different languages of Africa and having a Muslim woman as the protagonist, on and on. Every page is rich with information and a loving look at this intelligent woman (did I mention the author Lawrence Hill is male and writes this in the first person? What an accomplishment.)

With such a topic, you’d imagine the book might be too painful to read. It’s not. Hill has a deft touch so that while you agonize for the fates that befall Aminata, you continue hoping a good end will come. And you will cheer when one slender yet unforgettable piece of happiness comes (back) to her.

I honestly think this book should have received a Pulitzer or Nobel prize. Maybe both. I’ve never read such a thorough and heartfelt book about a slave. Hill truly did this fictional woman honor.

2. Splendors and Glooms by Laura Amy Schlitz. I LOVED this book. Pretty much perfect in every way, just like Mary Poppins. There are always books you read and enjoy, and then there are books that hit on topics that already fascinate you and seem tailor-made to you. For me, Splendors and Glooms was the latter kind of book. With Victorian orphans,  a mansion shrouded in snow, a locked tower, a character named Clara, dark magic, a smart and honest main character, inklings of romance and more….it was a sheer pleasure from page one to the end. I first learned of the book in the freebie magazine Book Page that my library carries; I dogeared the page it appeared on to remind myself, and then hunted down the book.  It’s considered a young adult book, but I relished it as an adult.

3. Mistress of the Revolution by Catherine Delors.

The tale of a country noblewoman’s life in the years leading up to the French Revolution, this book follows her path through an arranged marriage to a brute, her necessary turn to courtesanship to support herself, and her imprisonment during the bloodthirsty days of revolution. I won’t give any plot spoilers, so will silence myself there. One thing I appreciated about this book is that it didn’t, as many books depicting the Revolution do, gloss over the fate of the Princesse de Lamballe. The viciousness of the Revolution almost seems apocryphal; did people really dip their bread in the freeflowing blood from the guillotine and exultedly eat it? Was the Princess of Lamballe’s story exaggerated and blown up out of proportion? If not, Paris was a desperately violent place, and how could you continue to trust your neighbor even after events calmed? The term “The Terror” best illustrates the era. This novel is unflinching.

Friends’ Books: I’m lucky to be part of a writing community and to announce the release of books written by friends.

Quest of the Warrior Maiden by Linda C. McCabe: Based on the legends of Charlemagne and featuring a strong woman warrior protagonist. I met Linda years ago at the East of Eden writing conference; we were assigned to share a room at Asilomar, and a year later we voluntarily shared a room at the next gathering. We’ve kept in touch over the years and had a strange friendship involving the repeated loss of keys! Once her husband had to fly down in a Cessna to bring spare car keys to her. To his credit, he greeted her with a big kiss. Linda’s book is available through Destrier Books.

A Time to Cast Away Stones by Elise Miller: Elise’s novel is about the 1968 May Revolution in Paris, an event few talk about or know about. I heard snippets of it years ago in a writers group we both belonged to in San Francisco. Believe it or not, this group required writers to read their work aloud for critique; I’ll never forget how much my hands trembled in the beginning holding up my pages. Elise was confident and continued honing her novel, now available through Sand Hill Review Press.

Forged in Grace by Jordan Rosenfeld: Jordan’s novel is about a burn victim who learns she can heal people--but not herself--through supernatural powers. She also voyages to learn more about the events surrounding the fire, and the best friend who was there at the time. I met Jordan and was good friends with her during the time I lived in Gilroy and she was in nearby Morgan Hill. It was a bummer not to make her recent March 2 launch party, which I blogged about a few weeks ago. I read an early version of her novel, then called Little Alien, and thought it was great; I know the version she launched was much different and can’t wait to read it. Her novel is available through Indie-Visible Ink, a collective she formed with a wonderful roster of fellow women writers. (What a great name, a play on indivisible! Surprised it wasn’t already taken.)

Up in the Air  by Ann Marie Meyers. Anne Marie’s book is a children’s picture book. I know Ann Marie from the same group that Elise Miller belonged to as well. Such a fun community of writers! Ann Marie is from Trinidad and now lives in Toronto. What a climate change. Ann Marie invited me to guest blog at her site in a few days; I’ll provide a link soon. Her book is available from Jolly Fish Press. P.S. I was in error; her book doesn't launch until July. I'll show the jacket jpeg then.

Claws of the Cat  by Susan Spann: This is cheating, because Susan’s book isn’t out yet! But you can preorder it and then enjoy the best-ever summer beach read. Available through Minotaur, Susan’s novel is the first installment of a fantastic mystery series featuring a Watson and Holmesian combination: a samurai warrior (a shinobi, as I  learned, part of millions of fascinating facts Susan has hipped me to) and a Portuguese priest, set in medieval Japan. They’re great partners, because Hiro the shinobi is taciturn and very Japanese, hiding many secrets, while Father Mateo is a man of the cloth and concerned to do the right thing, even while violating cultural expectations. I’ve read two of her books in the series and am waiting expectantly for #3 (clearing throat)…they are wonderful books and I can’t wait for them to hit the world. Watch this space for lots of Hiro content as the launch date approaches. I met Susan at the Historical Novels Society conference in San Diego in 2011. We had a great time getting to know each other, and I was delighted to learn she lived near Folsom, a city my family was about to move to (and did). We’ve had many an impassioned breakfast talking about writing and publishing, many a hushed evening talking about the same, and a few great walks talking about…you got it…the same. Susan’s a dear friend and thanks to HNS for getting us together! (I’ll be blogging soon about the upcoming conference in St. Petersburg, Florida this June, which both of us will again be attending.)

Before I close, I want to say I saw an amazing documentary this afternoon, courtesy of my cousin who works at Intel, which sponsored the film: Girl Rising. It was emotional, stirring, and well worth its own blog post, which I’ll post in a few days once I get a chance to mull it over and think how to approach it. (This post on my book picks has been underway for weeks, a sad commentary on how slowly I create these posts.)

There is a connection between Girl Rising and this post: the idea that literacy, that reading, can change lives and improve lives. I’m so grateful that I live a life of words and joyous reading and happy writing. I wish this was a liberty people worldwide enjoyed.

More later!

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Louis XVI's blood in hollowed-out gourd

It's strange to imagine that a man who so mightily ruled France might be reduced to the blotches on a handkerchief, dipped in his blood post-guillotining, and then stowed in a gourd kept by an Italian family for over 200 years--until it underwent DNA testing recently to be confirmed as his blood.

Here's the link to the BBC news article.

Accounts of the French Revolution reveal an appallingly blood-thirsty populace. Wow, just typing that made me go to the kitchen to pour a glass of wine. I'm not kidding.

But it's white wine, not red.

The squash was inscribed, "On January 21, Maximilien Bourdaloue dipped his handkerchief in the blood of Louis XVI after his decapitation."

I can't help but imagine the crush of people at the scaffold. How and why did Bourdaloue get close enough to dip his handkerchief? And what do you do afterwards: fold it up and put it in your pocket, or carry it aloft all day long as you sing revolutionary songs, waving it like a flag as its drops fly? Shudder.

I also looked at a Telegraph article which added a little more information, such that the handkerchief itself has long since decomposed and it was the bloodstained interior of the squash that was tested. The bloodstains were a close enough match to the DNA of what is believed to be the mummified head of Louis IV, an ancestor of the Sixteenth's, to call it conclusive.

Fascinating.



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Marie's theater

This trip is really a working trip for me; I'm gathering info and atmosphere for a new novel. So I've been paying lots of attention to Marie Antoinetteisms both at Versailles and in Paris (next stop: Conciergerie).

I also saw the new Sophia Coppola movie here in Paris. It's hard to ignore subtitles even when they're in a different language! I enjoyed the movie but thought it glossed over Versailles: no one had fleas, no one was pissing in the hallways...

Anyway, I'd never before seen Marie's little theater where she performed for friends. It is incredibly lovely with the scenery currently on stage, a verdant woodland path that looks like one at Versailles. The theater is behind the Petit Trianon, Marie's refuge from the crazy court life at Versailles, and only holds maybe 50 people? I should have counted the seats.

Also on the grounds at the Petit Trianon are the Rock, a pseudo grotto with running water built for her. I loved that and thought of a scene I could set there. (It also reminded me of the fake cliffs at Parc aux Buttes Chaumont, if I spelled that right, which I also really liked. Why do I like fake natural things?)

She also had a tiny chapel and numerous pavilions tossed around the grounds... it was a total playground. NOT to mention... the hameau. Which makes me wild with envy. Why couldn't **I** have a tiny mill on a brook, and swans, and a little tower with an eensy, tiny winding staircase that encircles it, and goats and sheep of a certain size and cuteness?

At the hameau (which means hamlet), Marie pretended to be a peasant (ominous irony), dressing as a shepherd. I've heard that they perfumed the animals so the smell wouldn't offend her nose. I read in another book that although she enjoyed the playacting, selling milk, cheese and vegetables from the hameau actually raised money for Versailles and was a real enterprise. It bears more research.

Unfortunately, I have no photos of the hameau. The memory card was full and I was too zonked to review the pics and delete some.