Please, please—can we have some quiet? Thank you. Now, if you’re here, chances are you’re already aware of what the Regency refers to and have a general sense of why the setting is so prevalent in romance and some branches of fantasy. With the success of Shondaland’s Bridgerton in recent years, there’s been a renewal of interest in the setting. This has resulted in the influx of Regency-inspired clothing, foods, and media in international markets.
Luckily, I’m one of those people who appreciate any attention that my favourite genres get—if only from a business perspective. Popularity and money tend to go hand in hand when it comes to entertainment, and for some of us who’ve been reading Austen and Heyer for quite some time, the new interest in these authors is rather delightful.
Today, I wanted to take a look at why we’re fascinated by the period. We return to it, time and time again, in the form of television and film productions, historical romance novels, and fantasy of manners. I mean, just look at the sure amount of Jane Austen adaptations there are! Now, I’m not saying that—wait, whose hand is that? Chris? Speak up, dear boy, I can’t hear you. Oh, you think it’s because of the love interests? I’m sure that’s part of it, but there’s more to it than that—And you’ve got something to add, Rachel? Oh, yes, but we can share that afterwards… the lake scene is classic, though, isn’t it? Ahem, at any rate, let’s get to it.
What Defines the Regency Period?
It’s called the Regency because George IV took over as regent from his father, King George III, due to the latter’s mental illness. The Regency period technically extends from 1811-1820, but some consider 1795-1837 as the Extended Regency. The Regency is often seen as an age of elegance and decadence—but that’s because Regency fiction and period dramas tend to depict the lives of the wealthy and aristocratic. In that way, it’s fine escapism. Here’s a quick summary of the people I believe have come to define the modern concept of the setting:
The Regency’s Prince, Duke, and Dandy
The Prince Regent
Known as Prinny for his manners and style, the Prince Regent was a man who lived up to the era’s reputation for decadence. He was the Regency’s very own version of Marie Antoinette—though, mercifully for him, far more likeable and charming… and he wasn’t decapitated by angry peasants. Nevertheless, he was extravagant and ran up quite a few debts during his time.
The Duke of Wellington
In stark contrast to Prinny, Arthur Wellesley, the 1st Duke of Wellington, has become a name almost as familiar as that of Napoleon himself. Famous for his victory over the French at Waterloo in 1815, the Duke was a serious and disciplined man. He was born Irish (which you’d seldom hear anyone English mention). He popularised Wellington boots (hence the name) and is thought to have inspired the rather wonderful dish, Beef Wellington (though historians have found no correlation between the man and the recipe).
Beau Brummell
The epitome of a Regency dandy, Beau Brummell was considered invariably au courant by le bon ton for most of the period. His sense of style is what propelled him to the top, along with his charm and easy manner. His social position and friendship with Prinny allowed him some leeway with his debts, but this all started to change in 1813 when, on being given the cut-direct by the Regent, he referred to him as a “fat friend”. In 1816, Brummell had to flee to France to escape debtor’s prison—and this marked his decline from gentleman and dandy to poor and déclassé.
The Writers Who Crafted the Concept of the Regency Romance
Regency romance novels are a large part of what defines the setting for the modern generation. It was Georgette Heyer who popularised the historical Regency romance in the early part of the 20th century with the publication of Regency Buck. Some readers may point to Jane Austen as the inventor, but this isn’t the case. Austen was a contemporary writer, while Heyer was firmly historical. There’s no doubt, however, that Heyer was heavily inspired by Austen’s signature prose when she started writing her own stories.
Jane Austen
Now, you’ll have to excuse the length of this section, but I reserve the right to discuss my love of this author in as many words as I choose… Don’t sigh like that, Chris. I saw your copy of Pride and Prejudice. It’s almost as raggedy as mine.
Some of you might only be familiar with the indomitable Jane Austen from her Hollywood treatment—and if this is the case, boy, are you missing out. Never a member of the corps d’elite, Austen wrote novels about the life of the landed gentry. She is widely considered a romantic novelist, but this is a gross oversimplification. While her works contain romantic plots, they’re more of a social and cultural study of contemporary life during the Extended Regency period.
The Completed Works of Jane Austen
Not taking into account her Juvenilia, Austen wrote and completed seven novels:
Sense and Sensibility (1811)
Austen’s first published novel tells the story of two sisters, Elinor and Marianne Dashwood, as they navigate love and society. It’s very much a fan favourite, but I don’t think it’s as smoothly told as some of her other works.
Pride and Prejudice (1813)
Perhaps her most famous novel, it tells the story of how Elizabeth Bennet and Mr Darcy overcome their character flaws as they fall in love, all the while dealing with the societal and familial pressures of the era. It’s arguably Austen’s most accessible novel.
Mansfield Park (1814)
My favourite of Austen’s completed works—and, in many ways, her take on the Cinderella fairytale—the novel follows the moralistic Fanny Price as she is raised by relatives of a superior social position.
Emma (1816)
Funny and witty, Emma is possibly Austen’s heroine with the most modern sensibilities. The story revolves around the titular character as she attempts to play cupid—all with disastrous consequences.
Northanger Abbey (1817)
Austen’s first completed novel was only published (along with Persuasion) a few months after she’d passed. It’s a satire of the Gothic novel and follows the young Catherine Morland as she realises that life doesn’t resemble a Gothic novel as much as she’d like it to. Most of it takes place in the City of Bath, which is the location of the Jane Austen Center today (but which Austen herself wasn’t really fond of).
Persuasion (1817)
My second favourite of her novels, and published posthumously with Northanger Abbey, it tells the story of how Anne Elliot, once convinced by her family to abandon her engagement to Captain Wentworth, encounters him again after eight years of separation—thereby being offered a second chance at love.
Lady Susan (1871)
An epistolary novella, first published almost a century after Austen’s death, tells the story of the widowed titular character as she schemes to secure advantageous matches for both her and her daughter.
A (Very) Short Biography of Jane Austen
Austen’s own domestic life is almost just as interesting as her fiction (to us at least; I’m pretty sure she didn’t feel like it when she was alive). She (possibly) fell in love twice—and was even engaged for a single night!—but she never married. She lived with her mother and sister (the latter of whom she was exceedingly fond of) and died on the 18th July, 1817. The cause of her death isn’t firmly established, but it’s considered to be either Addison’s or Hodgkin’s—or, most recently, arsenic poisoning.
At the time of her death, she was working on Sanditon—which I believe would’ve replaced Mansfield Park as my favourite of her novels if she’d had the chance to complete it. At any rate, there’s a lot to be said about her work and life, but I’ll refrain from writing an entire biography here (which is not to say I won’t do so somewhere else in the future, so don’t you worry, Rachel).
Georgette Heyer
This is where the concept of the historical Regency romance novels starts. Georgette Heyer was 18 years old when she published her first novel, The Black Moth, in 1921. She’d written it to entertain her sickly brother. This first novel took place around the mid-18th century, but definitely showcases some of Heyer’s iconic prose and her ability to recreate a historical setting so effectively.
It wouldn’t be until 1935, when Regency Buck was published to significant success, that Heyer would turn to the Regency and establish the sub-genre for future generations. Her work, unsurprisingly, was inspired by Jane Austen. As quoted in Jane Aiken Hodge’s 1984 biography of Heyer, The Private World of Georgette Heyer, Heyer herself wrote that her style is “. . . really a mixture of Johnson and Austen—what I rely on is a certain gift for the farcical.”
And while Heyer’s style is identifiably her own, even though it’s written in a pastiche of 19th-century prose, it’s her attention to historical detail—as well as her “Heyerisms”—that really put her signature on her novels. Heyer’s research was impeccable. To faithfully recreate her historical settings, Heyer collected vast amounts of reference material. Her Regency cant—some of which she’d invented—has also become somewhat of a staple in Regency romances…but I’ll get to that in a moment.
Shonda Rhimes and Julia Quinn
It wouldn’t be fair, with the success of Bridgerton in recent years, not to mention Rhimes and Quinn on this list. Though a far cry from Austen (which, if we’re honest, who can live up to anyway?) the adaptations of Quinn’s books by Shondaland have propelled the Regency period into the modern world-view. There are core differences between the show and the novels, however, namely the emphasis on diversity. Bridgerton has, nevertheless, served to provide viewers and readers alike with the escapism that the Regency romance has done so well for over a century. I should also mention that it’s a bit more risqué than Heyer and Austen (and by “a bit”, I mean “considerably”).
Some Characteristics of Regency Romance Novels
Over the years, there’ve been some elements that readers have come to associate with the Regency romance: an emphasis on the class divide, archaic language and grammatical features, domestic scenes and social excursions. I admit, I’m a fan of a story that takes place during the London Season—but that doesn’t mean I’ll shy away from a good country setting, with a few absurd neighbours, a brooding hero, and a witty heroine to populate it.
Regency Language, Tropes, and Archetypes
Language
The language of Regency romance novels often tries to mimic the language of the period itself: formal, archaic, and usually British. The inspiration for the dialogue and descriptions can be traced back to Austen and Heyer, but it should be noted that today’s writers lean more toward modernising the language. Unfortunately, for those of you who love the style of 19th-century prose, recent works have opted to streamline the reading experience. While this is understandable—and often done quite well—I do admit that I’ll always prefer a pastiche to a modernisation.
Regency Cant
Slang is often found in historical Regency novels—and often in Regency TV shows as well. Again, the presence of many of these can be attributed to Heyer. As I mentioned, she was well known for her meticulous research of any period she was writing about—which is why it’s rather difficult to separate the cant she fabricated and the cant that’s accurate to the period. At any rate, the majority of the slang in her books has become so well known in Regency romance circles—and so widely used—that it’s something of a distinction of the sub-genre at this point. Heyer’s inventions (those which can’t be traced to historical sources) are known as “Heyerisms”. Here are some of my favourite Regency slang and Heyerisms, which you’ve no doubt already come across more than once:
- Goose: Often an endearing way of saying someone is foolish or stupid, usually along the lines of “You silly goose!” or “You’re such a goose!”
- Caked: Inebriated. Drunk. Imbibed. “Too caked to function,” or “A well-caked fellow!”
- Canterbury tales: lies, fibs, falsities. “Don’t tell me such Canterbury tales!” or “Such pretty Canterbury tales, my dear!”
Archaic Words and Punctuation
If you’ve read something by Austen, Radcliffe, or Edgeworth, you’ve probably come across punctuation that seems at odds with what modern society considers correct. I find that few people nowadays realise that, along with technology and attitudes towards religion, language has evolved from the time of Austen (just like, she no doubt, understood that it had evolved from the time of Shakespeare). Sentences have become shorter, television has influenced descriptions, and punctuation has been standardised. Regardless, here are a few of my favourite archaic grammatical and lexical features that I think you should be aware of, if only to find more joy in reading the contemporary novels of the period:
- Exclamation (!) and question (?) marks are often used interchangeably with commas (,). Eg. “Oh! what wonderful news, dear!” or “My dear? what have you there?” I think this was done to indicate changes in tone mid-sentence.
- “Connexion” instead of “connection”. Eg. “What might his connexion to the Duke be?” The words mean the same, but I appreciate the former more—I feel it’s more aesthetic.
- The presence of authorial intrusion. This is something that’s still found occasionally in modern writing, but it’s fallen out of fashion. I’m a big advocate for authorial intrusion. I feel it adds depth to fiction when an author directly addresses a character’s actions or describes a scene. After all, they know the story and characters better than anyone. Here’s an example from Chapter 61 of Austen’s Pride and Prejudice:
“Happy for all her maternal feelings was the day on which Mrs Bennet got rid of her two most deserving daughters. With what delighted pride she afterwards visited Mrs Bingley, and talked of Mrs Darcy, may be guessed. I wish I could say, for the sake of her family, that the accomplishment of her earnest desire in the establishment of so many of her children produced so happy an effect as to make her a sensible, amiable, well-informed woman for the rest of her life; though perhaps it was lucky for her husband, who might not have relished domestic felicity in so unusual a form, that she still was occasionally nervous and invariably silly.”
Tropes
Tropes are recurrent thematic ideas that have been used so often that they’ve become something of a convention in specific genres. When applied to romance, a trope usually refers to the type of love story being told between the characters. And while there are quite a few, don’t worry; I’ll only be discussing four.
Enemies to lovers
A favourite amongst modern readers, this trope involves two characters who dislike one another at the story’s beginning, but gradually fall in love as it progresses. Many might argue that Pride and Prejudice is an example of this—I tend to agree.
Marriage of Convenience
Two characters get married for some external reason—usually something related to the laws of primogeniture. While the marriage was to be in name only, the characters fall in love as the story progresses. Mary Balogh’s first book in the Bedwyn Saga, Slightly Married, is a prime example of this.
Beauty and the Beast
This trope is inspired by the fairytale of the same name. One character is seen as an outsider (possibly due to their physical appearance), and the other is often accepted and beautiful. The story usually revolves around how they must come to terms with their feelings for one another, regardless of external opinions and influences.
Cinderella
Also sometimes known as “a makeover story”, I had to include this one simply because it’s my favourite trope. It’s often a retelling of the Cinderella fairytale—a character is in a dire situation at the story’s beginning but gets assisted to a happy ending (through help or, nowadays, through their own fortitude and wit). The thing that makes it really hit the mark for me is the inclusion of a scene where the character—once ragged and defeated—debuts their new and improved self to society. After all, the best revenge is success…
Archetypes
Similar to tropes (and, you’re right, Chris, many people classify certain character types as tropes), I like to separate them for the sake of clarity. While tropes have to do with repetition in story, archetypes refer to repetitive characters and their associated traits.
I think of archetypes as playing cards—they each have a purpose and serve the “game” in a particular way. There are quite a few archetypes, but I’ve decided to give my favourites a name of their own in today’s lesson.
The Hypochondriac
Honestly, I’m next-level fond of this type of character. This archetype is obsessed with their health, nerves, and notional illnesses. Mr Woodhouse (from Emma) is an example of this, as are the Parker siblings in Sandition. It’s one of the reasons why I think Sandition would’ve been my favourite Austen novel if she’d finished it. To have a relatively young pair of characters fall into this archetype is pretty smart (in my book, at least).
The Oblivious
The oblivious character is often not aware of how their personality and actions affect their social standing and others’ opinions of them. The thing that I like about this archetype is its adaptiveness. You see it in Mr Collins from Pride and Prejudice, but also in Miss Bates from Emma. It’s not restricted by class, but it’s a relatable archetype. Most of us have encountered a spectacularly oblivious person before—and to find them in fiction? Well, I think that contributes to both the work’s humour and realism.
The Byronic Hero
Dark and brooding, the Byronic Hero is named after Lord Byron himself. He’s the standard for heroes and love interests—people gravitate towards this kind of character. He’s attractive but often doesn’t know it. He struggles to love himself—and I suppose that juxtaposition of attractiveness and humility has a broad appeal. Additionally, you’ll often find that he’s antisocial, deeply flawed, and emotionally broken. You get the idea that when he loves, he’ll love for life. Just thinking about it makes me swoon!
Domesticity and Social Events
It’s strange how fond I am of domestic scenes. I mean—and this might be a bit off-topic—my favourite episode of Grey’s Anatomy is the dinner party at Meredith’s house (Season 12, Episode 5). Not any of the episodes at the hospital, but that one episode—where tensions run high because of—well, I won’t spoil it. Let’s just say that episode had me glued to the screen.
I’ve often wondered why I love domesticity, and I’ve come to the conclusion that there isn’t a singular reason. It could be because it’s relatable, since I live most of my life at home. It could be because of my grandmother’s influence, since her life (much like Mrs Bennet’s) revolves around “visiting and news”. Really, it might a number of things. All I know is that I love it— and the feeling of domesticity (even when characters aren’t at home) is almost ubiquitous when it comes to the Regency romance.
Characters at Home
Again, while I can’t go into as much detail as I’d like about the Regency homes of the wealthy here, I’ll discuss a few domestic settings you’ll often find in Regency romance novels. (My favourite is the drawing-room, if only because the idea of a space dedicated to receiving visitors appeals to me—don’t want them snooping around the rest of the house!)
Drawing-Room
You’d be very hard-pressed to find a Regency romance that doesn’t have a scene that takes place in a drawing-room. It’s the place in the house that characters—predominantly female, since this was considered a feminine room (though my male characters use it just as often)—socialise and relax in. Tea is had in the drawing-room, visitors are received in the drawing-room, and female guests often the first to withdraw to the drawing-room after dinner.
Library
Another classic location, it’s no surprise that libraries are included in a lot of Regency romances. Readers love books. Writers love books. Logically, a location filled with books is a given. This also ties into the prevalence of the aristocracy’s presence in Regency romances. Books in the Regency were costly. A library, no matter how quant, was the mark of a gentleman. Whereas the drawing-room was more feminine, I’d suggest that, at this time, the library was the more masculine of the two spaces.
Stables and Mews
Another staple of the Regency house—and another expense—horse-drawn carriages were the primary means of transport in the Regency. In the country, stables were similar to what you’d find today. In London, stables were usually located behind (or very near) upper-class and expensive residences in areas known as mews.
The Social Season
Balls, parties—the marriage mart. It was the annual social high point for the corps d’elite, and it started bustling right after Easter, when Parliament reconvened and MPs returned to London with their families. Almack’s Assembly Rooms hosted an exclusive ball every Wednesday, the fashionable promenaded in Hyde Park each afternoon, theatre parties were organised, alfresco breakfasts, routs—the list of entertainments goes on.
Hyde Park
Hyde Park was the place to be seen between the hours of 5 and 6 each afternoon. Since carriages and horses were often the domain of the upper crust, members of le bon ton would take to Rotten Row—a path that ran along the southern border, in between the Serpentine and the Barracks—to display their horses, carriages, and the latest fashions.
Almack’s
Located on King Street, in the West-End, Almack’s was one of the most exclusive clubs in Regency London. You couldn’t get in without a ticket and you couldn’t get a ticket from anyone except one of Almack’s patronesses. These ladies, all well-bred and well-off, met weekly to determine which individuals would make their list. The rules of Almack’s were also very strict, so much so that even the Duke of Wellington was turned away once for wearing trousers instead of breeches.
Love, Romance, and the Happily Ever After
Ah, yes! The one thing that most readers expect from the Regency romance is a happy ending. Two characters who’ve gone through hell and high water to be together, finally finding comfort and resolution in each other. If you ever consider writing a Regency romance, please don’t deviate from this expectation. I’m not saying you can’t, but—as a reader—I’m earnestly asking you not to.
I, for one, despise an unhappy ending. If I want to be left unsatisfied—which I very rarely do, mind you—I’ll turn to one of the modern “literary” books, where everyone seems to die in some horrid way at the end. My thoughts are firmly in agreement with Austen’s on the matter—
“Let other pens dwell on guilt and misery. I quit such odious subjects as soon as I can, impatient to restore everybody, not greatly in fault themselves, to tolerable comfort, and to have done with all the rest.”
Mansfield Park, Chapter 48
The Answer to Our Love for the Regency Romance
If the above is anything to go by, I think the answer to the question of why we love the Regency—much like my love of the domestic—is an amalgamation of things. Memorable characters, predictable plots, happily ever afters—these all serve to be very comforting in a world that’s uncertain, unpredictable, and—at times—as far removed from fiction as possible.
There is a scene from Miss Austen Regrets that stuck with me. In it, Jane Austen sits with Madame Bigeon, one of Henry Austen’s servants, by the fire:
Mme. Bigeon: [late at night, both in nightgowns; strong French accent] My friend in Paris has read a wonderful new book called ‘Raison et Sensibilité.’
Jane Austen: Sense and Sensibility?
Mme. Bigeon: My friend says, whoever the woman is who wrote this book, she knows more about love than anyone else in the world.
Jane Austen: Like someone who can’t cook writing a recipe book.
Mme. Bigeon: Passion is for the young. It fades so quickly.
Jane Austen: [wistfully] Not in our dreams.
Mme. Bigeon: Comfort remains, friendship remains, if you are lucky as I was.
Jane Austen: Happiness in marriage remains a matter of chance.
Mme. Bigeon: But the fuss we make about who to choose. And love still dies and money still vanishes. And, spinster, lover, wife, every woman has regrets. So we read about your heroines and feel young again. And in love. And full of hope. As if we can make that choice again.
Jane Austen: And do it right this time.
Mme. Bigeon: This is the gift which God has given you.
[Jane Austen looks up sharply]
Mme. Bigeon: It is enough, I think.
I think the scene speaks volumes to the popularity of the sub-genre. Regency romances—whether in the form of an audiobook, a television drama, or the classic novel—provide us with the opportunity of endless second chances and a reliable escape when we need it. Close enough to touch but far enough to take us away…
Well, that’s it for today. You’re dismissed. If you’d like to stick around to discuss anything Regency or Austen related, you’re more than welcome. Yes, that goes for you too, Rachel. I’m sure Chris has some opinions on the Colin Firth scene you mentioned earlier. Ah! and I’d want to know your thoughts on Mr Collins—wait until I tell you the television version I think the most marriageable…
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