One of the most basic skills one must acquire in order to be a literary critic is the ability to dissect a passage line-by-line. To that purpose, let us consider the following paragraph from Julia Quinn’s The Viscount Who Loved Me:
“What I need to do,” Mr. Berbrooke said jovially, clearly unaware that Lord Bridgerton was likely to murder the first person who opened his mouth, “is finish repairing this curricle. Then I can take Miss Sheffield home.” He pointed at Edwina, just in case anyone didn’t understand to which Miss Sheffield he referred. (Quinn 72)
Now, let us break our findings down into easily digested numbered points:
1.) OH HELL NO SHE DID NOT.
2.) Sigh. Okay, I’ll try to tell you why this is WRONG BAD WRONG SO WRONG.
3.) Pointing’s rude, kids. It’s the sort of thing little girls in pinafores used to get their knuckles rapped for. I don’t know for certain that it was rude in 1814–which is when The Viscount Who Loved Me supposedly takes place–but I’d bet big money that it was. In any case, no one in a Georgette Heyer novel ever did it. At least, not in public.
4.) FOR THE LAST TIME, JULIA, IT WOULD BE MISS SHEFFIELD AND MISS EDWINA. Jesus God, how can you churn out eight thousand Regencies a year and still not know that?
5.) Why do I keep reading these when they make me SO DAMN ANGRY?
6.) Fuck it, I’m eating some chocolate and then BLOWING MY BRAINS OUT BECAUSE THIS HURTS THEM SO MUCH.
This concludes our lesson. I hope it was informative! And remember, kids: if you can’t stick to the most basic rules of a genre, maybe you should consider writing something else. Like, ANYTHING ELSE.
Aw…I’m all late on this one, but I cannot possibly resist.
TALULAH THAT ISN’T YOUR REAL NAME MANKILLER, are you to tell me that you only picked up on the wild anachronistic behavior AND NOT THE GLARINGLY WRONGTASTIC FRAGMENT IN THAT BIT OF DIALOGUE?!
“…is finish repairing this curricle. Then I can take Miss Sheffield home.”
I’m sorry…did she just begin a new sentence with “then?” I would be kicked out of college for doing that. KICKED. OUT.
At least put an “And” before that, dear, or at least throw me a comma. Seriously.
And I can understand fragments for the sake of emotion or enunciation, but I am very sorry; this is not for that and therefore unacceptable.
All together, though, the structure of that sentence is pretty modern and low-bred for a character I am assuming is the viscount.
And also, I hate her.
Thanks for the warning! Will not be picking one of her books up anytime never.