My mother’s health was very poor. Suffering from chronic pain disorders and insomnia, she would get up around noon, and spend the entire afternoon preparing supper slowly, with many breaks to rest. She would breakfast late, and graze as she cooked; by 6pm when we would sit down to eat, she wasn’t hungry. My father was bone-tired and famished, due to his physically demanding job as a welder, and therefore rather disinclined to actively participate in conversations. I was a bratty adolescent, often looking to spark an argument just to liven up the tedium of my life. Not the ideal circumstances for harmonious family dinners. What to do?

My mother’s solution was to read to my father and me during supper, all throughout my high school years. She would mix up the type of books, depending on her mood and the time of year, always making sure to select books that would trigger curiosity, interest and lively discussion. I distinctly remember her reading most of C.S. Lewis’ work to us – much of my understanding of religious dogma happened at the dinner table. She also would frequently read Georgette Heyer to us.

I have a memory of my mother reading These Old Shades to us, my father in an exhausted daze, mindlessly working through the food on his plate. And then:

“Eloped?” Léonie echoed. “With Rupert? Ah, bah, I would as soon elope with the old goat in the field!”

“If it comes to that, I’d as soon elope with a tigress!” retorted Rupert. “Sooner, by Gad!”

“When this interchange of civilities is over,” said his Grace languidly, “I will continue. But do not let me interrupt you.”

My father’s bark of laughter startled my mother so much she dropped the book.

Historical Romance novels have a bad rap amongst literary genres. For the most part, it consists of smut, with little to no historical accuracy or plot. Nothing could be further from the world of Georgette Heyer.

But sex is something that happens off-stage and is kept in its place. It is important, never all-important. It is the marriage of two minds that matters the most to Georgette Heyer, not four bare legs in a bed, and this is one of the reasons for her lasting success. Attitudes to sex change from generation to generation and changed drastically during her lifetime, but she had chosen her line and kept to it. Her son, many years later, described her, to her amusement, as ‘not so much square as cubed’, and she made a revealing remark about his upbringing. ‘Your morals are your own affair,’ she used to tell him, ‘but your manners are mine.’ But in her private world, manners and morals were almost the same thing, and equally important. In these days of compulsory sex in the novel, one turns with relief to the manners and morals of Georgette Heyer’s private world.

Jan Aiken Hodge. The Private World of Georgette Heyer. Pan Books, 1985

(Yes, my mother loved Georgette Heyer so much that she had a biography about the author. Yes, I love Georgette Heyer so much that I kept this biography when triaging through my mother’s books.)

Georgette Heyer (1902-1974) is an interesting character. By day, she was a devoted housewife to George Ronald Rougier (an interesting character in his own right: after a failed career as a mining engineer, he opened a sports equipment shop in the 1930s, and later in life became a successful Queen’s Counsel – a lawyer) and proud parent of her only child Richard. By night, she was an internationally acclaimed novelist. She published 54 novels during her lifetime: 32 romances, 6 historical novels, 4 contemporary novels and 12 detective novels. She also refused to do any publicity, believing that her commercial success as an author had nothing to do with interviews and panel discussions or responding to fan mail, only with the quality of her work.

As regards the quality of her work, to this day, Georgette Heyer is considered to be one of the greatest experts on the Regency Era, having amassed such a collection of books, articles, prints, that British academics would sometimes reach out to her for her opinion on some obscure historical detail.

It is fascinating to turn from the notes to the books themselves and see at once her passionate accuracy, and the genius with which she could breathe life into the hard, historical fact. ‘An Infamous Army’ sets a strong romantic story in Brussels during the weeks leading up to Waterloo. Her description of the climactic battle has been used at Sandhurst and acclaimed as the best there is, and her son remembers the only public lecture she ever gave. She took him, as a schoolboy, to the United Services Institute, where they found a model of the battle, and she began to describe it to him, too absorbed to notice the arrival of a bevy of schoolgirls, whose attendant mistress recognized the expert and told them to hush and listen to her. Characteristically, hearing this, Georgette Heyer hushed herself, and moved away.

Jan Aiken Hodge. The Private World of Georgette Heyer. Pan Books, 1985

During her lifetime, she was the target of much imitation, both in the UK and in America. Georgette Heyer never sued: she’d merely select a handful of the plagiarizing author’s work, and write out a detailed list of historical inaccuracies and anachronisms, which she would mail to the publishing houses. These houses would stop selling the copycat books shortly after receiving one Heyer’s letters.

Most importantly, to me at least, is the witty dialogue in Heyer’s books. Building off the situational humour of her plots, Heyer creates a sparkling Regency world that resembles Shondaland’s Bridgerton (less all the sex) while highlighting the ridiculous social constructs with an accuracy as sharp as Jane Austen’s.

Avon showed his young brother Léonie’s letter. Rupert read it, exclaiming at intervals. When he came to the end he snatched his wig from his head, threw it upon the floor, and stamped on it, saying various things beneath his breath that made Lady Fanny clap her hands over her ears.

‘If you don’t have his blood for this, Justin, I shall!’ he said at last, picked up his wig, and put it on his head again.

Georgette Heyer’s books offer a reassuring world where women are the protagonists and where intelligence and character are rewarded over beauty: a message my mother would no doubt have wanted adolescent me to absorb deeply.

As I wind up this cozy winter weekend, I am warmed not just by the many throws and pillows on my couch and the comfortable reading socks. Reading a Georgette Heyer novel is a walk down memory lane, as I remember the comfortable silence around the dinner table broken only by my mother’s voice and the scraping of cutlery against the plates. As I navigate the complexities of adulthood and the digital world, these books are an enduring reminder of a simpler times, where happiness meant a shared story over a shared meal.

And so, dear readers, I ask you: What traditions in your family have left a mark on your heart? What books have intertwined with your life’s narrative in unexpected ways?

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