We don’t know where to begin. No really, we’re quite finger-tied at the moment. Who let Barbara Cartland appear in public with blue eyeshadow? Did the woman not have people to help her? That’s cruel and unusual punishment. Being dead is surely not enough insulation for this punishment.
Cartland, the famously prolific (and dead) author, apparently left behind a wealth of unpublished works. But never fear, someone has seen to that this state of affairs will not remain. Every word that ever spewed from the woman’s brain will be available for public consumption. And this, we believe is wrong. Very wrong. Incredibly wrong. If we were in the position to grab somebody by the shoulders and shake vigorously, we would.
Perhaps we are creating the impression that we don’t admire Cartland’s work. Likely this is based upon the fact that we were once stuck longer than expected at Heathrow Airport. Though we had sufficient reading material, we indulged our curiosity and purchased a few Cartland novels. They were small with lots of white space. They were also a horrible waste of our time and money. It is one thing to be prolific — it is another to eviscerate the novel. Plot? Too thin to be threadbare. Characterization? We would say cardboard, but that’s an insult to boxes everywhere. Conflict? I hate you, I hate you, I hate you; oh, by the way, ignore that last thing — I love you. We would go on to say things about sentence structure and the use of punctuation, but, really, we are kind soul.
It is unclear who buys Cartland books (other than curious types such as us). We have been given to understand that once upon a time, she was at the top of her game. These books will, despite our fervent pleas, make their way into the market. They will likely add to the fortune left behind by the author. We would suggest this be stopped to protect her legacy, but it’s far too late for that. So we beg of whomever has the power to prevent this, since you can’t do it for her, do it for the rest of us. You’re perptuating every stereotype ever created for the genre. And for what? Money? Seems like a lousy reason to us.
As for those who judge women’s fiction by Cartland’s work, we humbly request you don’t. Thank you.
2 responses so far ↓
Kate Rothwell // Nov 18, 2004 at 9:15 am
Well, I’m not entirely sure how this connects . . .but I do like this quote and I bet your mind can jump from Cartland to Macy.
“My ass is for sale and I want to do big movies that pay a lot of money to shoot in L.A. Starting right now: No more art!”
–WILLIAM H. MACY telling the New York Daily News about his career goals. [not wearing blue eyeshadow]
booksquare // Nov 18, 2004 at 9:36 pm
Now, there’s nothing wrong with avarice. Some of my best friends… And I feel confident Mr. Macy will do his absolute best work in a big budget sort of way.
Can you guarantee the eye shadow thing? Not that it matters, but I’d probably feel better.