Introducing Lady Jayne Disappears by Joanna Davidson Politano: Pride and Prejudice meets Little Women, wrapped in a bit of Charles Dickens, and tied with ribbon borrowed from Sherlock Holmes.
As a writer and a reader, I appreciate few things more than reading books about writers. So when I opened my brand new, signed copy of Lady Jane Disappears (an extremely thoughtful Christmas gift from a friend), I was immediately both tickled and intrigued.
I read the first three chapters Christmas night, then read the entire rest of the book the next day. (Hooray Booxing Day, a holiday inaugurated by The Thinklings Podcast to read, or at least start, the books received on Christmas Day.) Not only was it delightful to curl up on the couch with a mug of tea and a book for an entire day; this book wouldn’t have let me step away even if I tried. Here’s what I loved about Lady Jayne Disappears:
Lady Jayne’s Characters
The main character is Aurelie Harcourt: writer, storyteller’s daughter, and girl of the prison turned into upper-class socialite. Her bent toward words, stories, people, and details (see below) made her such a fun and relatable character to be with. I saw myself in Aurelie so many times, and it alternately made me smile and ache.
I also appreciated Aurelie’s faith: the natural way she turned to God in moments of hardship or sorrow, her struggles through doubt and confusion, and her relationship with God that clearly served as the foundation for her life—depicted in realistic ways without preaching at the reader or overflowing the pages (and diverting the story) with paragraphs of prayer or Bible passages. Through Aurelie’s simple, natural heart for God, Politano shows not just what the Christian life was like in 1860s England but also what it can be like today.
I wish I could talk about all the other characters as well, from the Mr. Darcy-like Silas Rotherham to the bitter, mysterious matriarch Lady Pochard, and the family members, friends, and wait staff in between: a complicated cast of men and women who live 3D lives, almost all of them with a secret (or secrets) of some kind, and each with his or her own struggles with life and its meaning. Every character has a purpose, both toward the story and toward the theme, and I loved meeting all of them.
Lady Jayne’s Writing
Lady Jayne Disappears was a delight to read, with well-structured and engaging scenes, snappy chapter endings, and fresh, beautiful descriptions. The dialogue read naturally but also appropriately for the time, conveying the formality of the era without bogging the reader down in excessively heightened language. It’s no surprise that a book about a writer, from the point of view of a writer, blesses the reader with such picturesque similes, such as
- “Like a kite with its string suddenly cut, I was alone.” (14)
- “two fleeting dimples framing his mouth like quotation marks” (18)
- “everything had been undone, like a corset with the ribbons yanked out” (156)
- “My insides trembled like raisin pudding.” (264)
And then there are the writer-specific moments that, besides being beautifully written, touch the heartstrings of every human who has put or aspires to put pen to paper:
- “Oh, to pin this man to paper with the exact words.” (14)
- “And now I am well equipped to describe a woman falling into a puddle, if that should come about in a story.” (66)
- “Broken, aching, I cracked my delicate heart like a fragile eggshell and poured its contents onto the page.” (315)
I also loved the quotes at the beginning of each chapter. These little touches add so much to the reading experience and, in Lady Jayne Disappears particularly, pull the reader deeper into the story within the story (within the story?).
Lady Jayne’s Romance
Okay, yes, I’m also the one who received a pair of socks for Christmas that say, “These are my romantic socks”—a fun gift from my Hallmark-loving friends who know I’m not a mushy romance girl, for when we watch romantic movies together. (The joke is that I have one romantic bone in my body. It does peek out every so often.)
I loved the romance of Lady Jayne Disappears, because it wasn’t mushy, steamy, or eye-rollingly swoony. It was natural and sweet (and squeaky clean), gradually progressed by character and actions (rather than looks first), with some understandable angst to keep me invested in are they actually going to end up together? I wasn’t sure for a good while there. And when the ending came, it was good and fitting, and I was happy.
Lady Jayne’s Setting
I don’t gravitate toward the Austenian or Victorian eras, but I found myself surprisingly comfortable among the stately manors, the unkept countryside, the bustling city, and even the rank alleys of the village. The details not only put me there but also made me want to stay there. Kudos to Politano for placing the reader so thoroughly in Somerset, England, in the early 1860s.
Lady Jayne’s Mystery
To say much would be to spoil much, so I’ll keep mum and just say, you’ll have to read the book for yourself. While I think I figured out one or two side intrigues along the way, the main mystery kept me guessing to the very end—through the couple of massive twists I never saw coming. What a delightful unraveling of the tangled mystery of knots Politano hands the reader in the first chapters.
Lady Jayne’s Themes
Lady Jayne Disappears is one of the reasons why I love Christian fiction: it doesn’t just tell a good, clean story or exemplify the sweet realities of the Christian life; it also lays out a profound, complex theme—presented through story events, character actions, and internal reflections—that really made me think.
The principal theme I took away was the pursuit of happiness and the meaning of life. I caught strong whiffs of Ecclesiastes near the end during subtle reflection on a character who sacrificed everything for the sake of immediate happiness (hedonism) compared to characters who sacrificed everything for the sake of lasting wealth (materialism), and none found what they were looking for. What—or who—can provide the satisfaction we all crave?
I also appreciated the additional themes of belonging and purpose, specifically in relation to Aurelie and her quest for a place—and a family—to belong, in addition to her role as a writer wrangling with words and understanding the power she wields, for herself and others.
The story is powerful. The mystery, astonishing. And the writing, delightful. If I haven’t convinced you yet to get your own copy of Lady Jayne Disappears by Joanna Davidson Politano (or put it on your Christmas list for next Booxing Day)—well, I know what pair of socks Scrooge is getting for Christmas. 😉
