“I wonder when in the world you’re going to do anything, Rudolf?” said my brother’s wife. “You are nine-and-twenty,” she observed, “and you’ve done nothing but–” “Knock about? It is true. Our family doesn’t need to do things.”The behaviour of Rudolf Rassendyll, younger brother of Robert Lord Burlesdon, appears to live up to his family motto, which is Nil quae feci (roughly translated as ‘I’ve done nothing’). But by the end of The Prisoner of Zenda Rudolf’s actions have belied that motto — at least according to this account supposedly penned by the young man himself. Anthony Hope’s 1894 novel is based on the notion of the doppelgänger, a plot device familiar from A Tale of Two Cities and many other novels and films. The bearded Englishman, found resting in a Ruritanian forest, is observed to be a lookalike of the dissolute heir to the throne, also called Rudolf – small wonder because they share a common ancestor in the 18th-century King of Ruritania Rudolf III as well as the tell-tale shock of dark red hair. It’s been suggested that Hope was inspired by the visual similarity of royal cousins Czar Nicholas II and King George V, but whatever the truth of the matter the result is a singularly exciting tale of derring-do. Despite its slow opening, the setting up of the coincidences at the beginning is essential, and Victorian readers were as avid for royal gossip, even of the fictional kind, as their modern counterparts.And Ruritania, where is that? To go on internal clues, it appears to share the same geographical space as Bohemia in the northwest of the modern Czech Republic but because of its nearness to Germany (the railway from Paris passes through Dresden) Rassendyll’s command of German stands him in good stead when he is called upon to stand in for the indisposed king at his coronation. Unfortunately matters are complicated by the enmity of Prince Michael, the King’s half-brother, and the chemistry between the King’s cousin Princess Flavia and Rassendyll. Ultimately the King ends up Michael’s prisoner in the castle of Zenda from which the ‘do-nothing’ Rassendyll, now the complete action hero, has to rescue him — all in secret of course to avoid destabilising the country.Is Rassendyll an unreliable narrator? He appears to be a leader of men, the compleat ideas man, handsome enough to attract the opposite sex, rugged enough to elicit admiration among men, modest enough to admit to a few minor faults such as being tempted — is he for real? He appears to be the ideal British hero (like Haggard’s Quatermain amongst superstitious Africans) taking suavity and civilisation to some slightly benighted Middle Europeans — they’re Catholics, for heaven’s sake! And Hope the son of an Anglican vicar!And yet there are indications that Hope has his tongue lodged in his cheek for much of the time. For example, he is aware of sexist attitudes (his sister-in-law has “a want of logic” that must have been peculiar to herself “since we are no longer allowed to lay it to the charge of her sex”) and yet he later casually includes the outrageous statement that “Women are careless, forgetful creatures” — is this Rassendyll or the author speaking? In the guise of the king Rassendyll is the ultimate in tact, able to use dissembling language when required but agonising over lying to those he holds in high regard; on the other hand he has a poor opinion of the intelligence-gathering of diplomats, whom he suggests are “somewhat expensive luxuries” — is this representative of the well-educated barrister’s beliefs? He stood as a Liberal candidate, though never elected, and it’s possible his description of this fictional despotic European country was his way of criticising right-wing attitudes in his own country. He seems aware enough of European politics to sense that social conflict was always rumbling below the surface, and may have had the Bohemian castle of Konopiště in mind for Zenda, a castle owned by the Archduke Franz Ferdinand whose assassination was to precipitate the Great War twenty years after this novel was published.Finally, the word ‘Ruritania’ has come to indicate a small, almost ridiculous European country. Hope may have intended an etymology based on the term ‘rural’, indicating not just something to do with the countryside but also something backward and conservative. I also wondered at the hero’s family name, Rassendyll, which looks vaguely German (rassen means ‘racial’) though ‘dyll’ foxes me: I can only find the Albanian word dyll, meaning ’wax’ — something malleable, perhaps?. But, in view of his russet hair I wondered if the first element was more related to Latin russus, ‘reddish’.But here I am getting a bit serious about something which is meant to be a bit of escapist fun — a game that I’ll leave to more serious players.http://wp.me/s2oNj1-zenda
Having been disappointed by a couple of recent reads, I thought I would revisit a book from many years ago, one that I thoroughly enjoyed at that time. And my re-read was not to disappoint for 'The Prisoner of Zenda' is just as fresh and thrilling now as it was then. And one can always reflect back to the 1937 and 1952 film versions when Ronald Colman, Douglas Fairbanks Jr, C Aubrey Smith, Madeleine Carroll and others (1937) and Stewart Granger, James Mason, Deborah Kerr and the rest (1952) swashbuckled across our screens. Obviously the story does not change from that which Anthony Hope Hawkins, for thus he was called, wrote the novel in 1894. It centres on the fictional country of Ruritania which our hero Rudolf Rassendyll decides to visit to see the coronation of the King. He had been languishing in London before deciding to go abroad for some adventure but he told family and friends that he was going to the Tyrol where he would travel around and record his experiences for posterity.Once in Ruritania he discovers that he has an almost identical likeness to the King, who he meets by accident when strolling through the forest. Once this has happened the action begins thick and fast as the King becomes drunk on the eve of the coronation and is unfit to attend his coronation. Colonel Sapt, to preserve the monarchy under his King, persuades Rudolf to take his place for the coronation ceremony before returning to the lodge where the King was recovering so that their roles could be reversed - and nobody would be the wiser.But Sapt, and his right-hand man Fritz, reckon without the intervention of Black Michael, the King's brother, who wishes the throne and the lovely Princess Flavia for himself. But once the coronation ruse is carried out successfully, Sapt and Rudolf find that the King has been captured by his rivals and imprisoned in the Castle of Zenda. So there is nothing to do but continue with the hoax until a satisfactory conclusion could be reached.Unfortunately Flavia gets embroiled in the mix and Rudolf falls madly in love with her - and vice versa, which is a surprise considering that she previously felt that the King was not worth the effort. She found the new King, who she did not realise was an imposter, considerably changed and was charmed by him - a pity for her that it was in fact Rudolph.The novel keeps the pace going all through with adventure and excitement mounting as the two parties vie for control of the country and for the hand of the fair Flavia. Rudolph in particular suffers for his love and for his conscience, as he wishes to do the right thing to get the King back on the throne. He is beaten up and attacked more than once but his cunning, aided by Colonel Sapt and his confederates, eventually get the better of Black Michael and his main co-conspirator Rupert of Hentzau, the latter who escapes and lives to fight another day.Throughout the whole saga, the love affair of Rudolph and Flavia simmers and in a heart-rending ending, Rudolph restores the King to the throne and is obliged to forsake his love and return to London where he keeps his exploits to himself despite the efforts of his friends to discover where he has been and what he has been up to. Meanwhile back in Ruritania, Flavia has to accept that it is her duty to support the (real) King and she remains loyal to her liege despite her undying love for the departed Rudolf.The story is just as lively and thrilling today as it has always been and as I have not seen the 1979 version of the film, I must look it up on You Tube to see how it compares.
Do You like book The Prisoner Of Zenda (1994)?
I was almost immediately reminded of The 39 Steps when I started this book. Both open with a 1st Person account of the protagonist lacking occupation and being idle just before the action begins and both betray unpleasant attitudes, too. Buchan's Hannay is much worse in this regard than Hope's Rudolf: Hannay is racist, sexist, Imperialist, arrogant and frankly unlikeable. Rudolf, however, makes one fairly mild sexist remark. There are differences, though: Hannay is bored of being idle whereas Rudolf would happily be idle for the rest of his life... None of this really matters beyond chapter one of either book, though. It's interesting to compare with Thomas Hardy. He was contemporary with both Hope and Buchan - but look at the views espoused about women, class, education and social mobility there! Perhaps the lesson is that 'frillers are not the place to look for advanced social attitudes. Because this is most definitely a Victorian 'friller!Get through the first couple of chapters full of expository set-up and this fairly zips along and is far too short to get bogged down in. Adventure, romance, fictional European Kingdom, sword fights, tragedy...it's all here.Great fun. I would gladly pick up the sequel...
—Robert
But if Fate made me a king the least I could do was play the part handsomely.Apparently this classic adventure novel was written in less than a month by Anthony Hope in 1894, and it's endured ever since - there's a 1937 movie that I will have to acquire somehow, and the BBC recently adapted it in the 80s - and it's easy to see why. This is a truly delightful, swashbuckling story that includes several of my favorite elements: love, impersonation, duels over honor, treachery, castles, mysterious women with mysterious motives, and (most importantly) gingers. I may be a little biased because this reminds me a lot of The Tin Princess, if Philip Pullman had lived in the late 1800s. His book also involves a morganatic marriage (a concept I was proud to not have to look up) and a tiny European country that's somehow survived through the centuries. But Anthony Hope is firmly planted in 1894, and the language and characters are definitely products of that time. The plot for this one is classic: a layabout English gentleman travels to Ruritania to get his sister-in-law off his back about Doing Something With His Life. While he's in Ruritania, he discovers he and the king are uncannily alike - due to a scandalous affair between their families in the past - and when the king goes missing, he takes the king's place to foil the sinister brother, Black Michael. ("Black Michael" is possibly my favorite conceit because the king and protagonist have wild red hair and, sadly for him, product-of-a-morganatic-marriage Michael has a darker complexion.) Hijinks and duels ensue, plots are hatched, and princesses are wooed. It's all very great.The edition that I checked out from the library is also gorgeous. It includes several full-color illustrations and the crest of Ruritania to start off chapters. Observe behind the spoiler:(view spoiler)[ (hide spoiler)]
—Emily
What a great story, a brief but epic adventure. Perhaps some may be tempted to rate it lower because it is not the standard rose-coloured fairytale, but I don't think that is fair. The adventure is fun: a monarchy, a feud, a capture, a farce and a fight, but it is the heroic romance which makes it truly great.Zenda shows the antithesis of Twilight's selfish, obsessive love. There's a paragraph in my Twilight review which is apt here:"One of the most serious issues in Twilight is the glorification of obsessive love, an intensely emotional experience which is more important than life itself, yours or anyone’s... and marriage is presented as a commitment based on this intense feeling of desire, when a person is so essential to your happiness that you can’t live without them... Yet, in the real world, people do live, and what’s more, they really learn to love, sometimes giving up a love they might feel because it’s not right (for example, the person is married to someone else), or many times learning to love a person once feelings have faded, or rather, have deepened and matured..."Zenda shows this second type of love, and it is beautiful. It is no soppy love story, but it is beautiful.After finishing it - and yes, there were tears in my eyes - I had the following thoughts. There is something eternal about real love. Selfish love dies in the moment: once taken it is used up and gone. Real love transcends the moment to live forever, so even if it is not fulfilled here and now it is true and remains forever. And perhaps we can only know how well we love if we are willing - should the need arise - to give it up. Because this type of love has had to transform every selfish part in it.There are some people that life asks, like this, to give everything. There are others who are asked to give everything by loving those alongside them with their defects and limitations and responsibilities. The first are not more tragic, perhaps they love even more. Both are heroic.And there is a kind of heartache that actually helps you learn to love, for it expands the heart and pulls it out of itself. We shouldn't fear this kind of heartache, because it lets you discover something more beautiful than you've known before.The last paragraphs in Zenda are beautiful, though perhaps not too well appreciated in our time. As noble as they are, they are still very human, and yet to see the human side of his struggle only makes it more beautiful, for it is more real.(view spoiler)[Far nobler - as I hold her - for the act, she has followed where her duty to her country and her House led her, and is the wife of the King, uniting his subjects to him by the love they bear to her, giving peace and quiet days to thousands by her self-sacrifice. There are moments when I dare not think of it, but there are others when I rise in spirit to where she ever dwells; then I can thank God that I love the noblest lady in the world, the most gracious and beautiful, and that there was nothing in my love that made her fall short in her high duty."Shall I see her face again - the pale face and glorious hair? Of that I know nothing; Fate has no hint, my heart no presentiment. I do not know. In this world, perhaps - nay, it is likely - never. And can it be that somewhere, in a manner whereof our flesh-bound minds have no apprehension, she and I will be together again, with nothing to come between us, nothing to forbid our love? That I know not, nor wiser heads than mine. But if it be never - if I can never hold sweet converse again with her, or look upon her face, or know from her her love; why, then, this side the grave, I will live as becomes the man whom she loves; and, for the other side, I must pray a dreamless sleep." (hide spoiler)]
—Clare Cannon
