I did not cordially like this book, I fear; there’s far more debauchery and gender-bending than I’m comfortable with. The tale concerns a young noblewoman who is trained as a swordsman by her “mad” uncle, the Duke of Tremontaine; his goal is not simply to scandalize society (though he succeeds in that) but to ensure that his niece will be able to make her own decisions in life, and will never be forced into a marriage or other life choice against her will—indeed, to ensure that she will never be subject to the norms of society, and can make love to whomever she prefers. It’s not a particularly original theme, these days, nor one that seems like it needed to be done yet again.

All that said, there were a couple of points that made me laugh out loud. In one, a young unmarried lady is discussing with her parents a new play adapted from a romantic novel:

“The Black Rose is in a new play,” Lydia said, “and all my friends have seen it. May I go?”

“Oh, dear,” sighed her mother, “it’s that awful piece of trash about the swordsman lover, isn’t it? All my friends were mad for that book when we were young.”

“It’s not trash,” her daughter said. “It is full of great and noble truths of the heart. And swordfights.”

Alas, the novel itself could use more of both.