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Chapter Four



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Mon Jun 28, 2010 2:18 am
Attolia says...



So I edited the last chapter to make Adele appear less weak; I hadn't realized how weak she seemed. And then I edited it for a number of other things as well and I'm still working on doing more. I know the manner of attack was very repetitive, so I'll work on changing that a bit too, but the repetition stops there in terms of the course of the story, so I'm not too worried. But anyway here is the next chapter, hope you guys like it, and please rip it apart. :D

Chapter 1: viewtopic.php?t=60875
Chapter 2: viewtopic.php?t=63494
Chapter 3: viewtopic.php?t=64924

-------------------------



Adèle DuPont cried at her father’s funeral. Surrounded by her uncle and cousins, she sat in the front row of pews observing the ceremony, and tears trickled down her face. This left her eyes suitably red and tear-stained for the many condolences which followed. Men and women of all levels of class and importance – strangers and familiar faces alike – approached her for etiquette’s sake to express their sympathy. She nodded and thanked them with sad charm from beneath her sheer black veil as they made their rounds.

Jacqueline Bouvier, always nearby Adèle at such public appearances, sat behind her in the pews and stood beside her afterward. She knew it was all an act. Everything was an act with Adèle.

The formalities drew on until they finally left the church for the two black Rolls-Royces awaiting them in front of the building. Adèle and Jacqueline got in the first one and the rest of their household followed in the second. The muggy Paris heat had already infiltrated the car, and as she watched the outskirts of the city zoom by, Jacqueline thought how she much preferred carriages. Adèle sat silent beside her; Jacqueline knew better than to broach a conversation.

A quarter of an hour later they had arrived back at the house. Though almost foreign to her young mistress, to whom it now belonged, it was home to Jacqueline. Adèle was not one to stay in a single place for long, and her past endeavors had suited mobility regardless. But all that was over now.

The two girls walked into the house, and Adele headed toward the stairs without sparing Jacqueline a second glance. Jacqueline tried to inconspicuously study her expression. She had removed the veil, though it wasn’t as if she had ever needed it, Jacqueline thought – a bit superfluous with the mask she already wore. Right now Adele’s features were completely stoic, and that was all Jacqueline could read.

Jacqueline slowed, with Adele now in front of her. She cleared her throat and Adele turned around to face her. “Yes?”

Jacqueline was struck suddenly by the strength of Adele’s gaze. For some reason she had been unconsciously expecting Adele to be distant or vague, but she now stared with a directness that startled her. Her tears had long since disappeared; she merely looked cold and aloof. Jacqueline thought suddenly of the goddesses of antiquity, with their beauty and their passionless cruelty. She fought against an irrational desire to take a step backward.

“Is there anything you’d like me to do?” Jacqueline asked calmly.

Adele paused, still looking at her. “Just see to it that my father’s rooms are cleaned and cleared. And tell Marie I’d like that lamb again for dinner,” she said.

“Alright.” Jacqueline remained standing in the hallway as she watched Adele turn and walk up the stairs.

------
The day passed, and Jacqueline had a quiet supper in the kitchens with Marie and Lucie, one of the housemaids. The kitchens were peaceful and supper passed tranquilly, only disrupted by the heavy yet unspoken weight of Dupont’s death. Adele had not yet come down, though it was nearing seven o’ clock and dinner was served promptly at six every night.

When the clock struck seven, Jacqueline sighed and began to search for her. Adele’s rooms upstairs were empty, but she finally found her in the downstairs study. She opened the study door to find her sitting motionless, staring straight ahead, in one of the plush leather armchairs. She had changed out of her formal black dress into a soft one of light brown, and her dark hair hung down and framed her immobile features. Jacqueline closed the door behind her and sat down on one of the nearby chairs.

The room was unbearably cold; the windows on the far side of the room were open, their dark curtains blowing wildly as gusts of night air streamed continually into the room. Jacqueline shivered and rubbed her arms. Adele ignored her presence and continued looking ahead. A few minutes of silence passed.

“What are we to do now?” Jacqueline asked to the silent room.

A long moment passed, so long Jacqueline was sure she had been ignored. “We wait,” Adele said nonchalantly, without looking at her.

“Wait?”

Adele afforded Jacqueline a careless glance and then resumed staring ahead. “Yes, Jacqueline, we wait. I’m too good a tool to be wasted. That’s the only reason they kept me around.” She paused almost lazily. “They’ll come. But, you know,” she shot her another look, “a tool isn’t really a tool at all if it can think for itself. So they’ll watch me for a while. And then they’ll come.”

Jacqueline took it all in. “You’re sure of this?”

“Why else am I alive?” It wasn’t a question. Her tone was cool.

Jacqueline let some quiet moments pass before speaking again. “So we wait, and do nothing?”

“I never said we’d do nothing. Only fools do nothing.”

Jacqueline looked to the wall where Adele stared. There weren’t even any windows or paintings adorning it; it merely faced the rest of the house. A loud gust of wind blew into the room, and Adele spoke once it stopped. “Just continue your rounds, Jacqueline. That’s all you need think about.”

She took that as her dismissal. Quietly, she rose, and closed the door behind her.


----------

Waiting did not happen to be all that different from Jacqueline’s daily life. In fact, it was exactly the same, except for the presence of Adele. Jacqueline would accompany her about town or eat meals with her occasionally. Her presence also meant a more immediate relay of information from their informants. Apart from that, not much had changed.

Her main and only real duty was the rounds she continued: checking up on their informants – usually servants – of certain men and families. As she performed such a visit only once every few days, she spent the majority of her time in the house. She often helped with the running of the house and the daily household duties, though she did not have to. The rest of her time she spent reading and furthering her education, under Adele’s encouragement.

It was a curious position she occupied in the house. She was not a lady of the family, nor was she even a lady in her own right, yet neither could she be classified amongst the help. A man named Gilles Blanc and his wife were the official housekeepers, and they did in effect run things, yet all knew Jacqueline held the greater authority. But it was a power she did not misuse, and so the house ran peacefully.


She watched Adele with curiosity as they ‘waited’. Adele had never seemed a particularly patient person, nor had she ever stayed in the Paris townhouse for longer than a fortnight. But to her slight surprise, Adele never seemed restless or acted anything but calm, though Jacqueline knew very little of her doings. When at home, Adele either occupied her rooms or the study, where she would stay for hours behind closed doors. And she knew Adele made social visits and attended many dinners and balls, to keep up appearances and stay informed, but she could not fathom they comprised all of her outings.

DuPont’s secretary, a man named Anton Gravois, arrived for dinner one night about two weeks after his death. He had been in the south, on DuPont’s orders, and thus had been away for the death and the funeral. Gravois was a quiet, clever man, about the same height as Adele, which was taller for a woman and rather short for a man. He had a large forehead and a receding hairline, despite being only around twenty-five.

The butler, Hugues, welcomed him into the sitting room, where he met Adele and Jacqueline. Adele wore a yellow silk dress, her hair up, and she had powdered her face. Jacqueline wore a less fashionable dress of dark red, her blond hair also up.

Adele greeted him with polite boredom. “How good to see you, M.Gravois.” She extended her hand lazily.

He took her hand and kissed it lightly, and replied in his quiet voice. “Mademoiselle Adele, my condolences for your loss,” he said gravely.

Merci,” she said, and gestured to Jacqueline. “You know Jacqueline Bouvier, of course?”

Gravois nodded and took her hand as well. “Nice to see you, Mademoiselle.”

Jacqueline nodded to him, and Adele spoke. “Do sit down, Monsieur,” she said theatrically.

They spent a quarter of an hour making polite conversation in the sitting room before the kitchenmaid came in and announced dinner was ready. They made their way to the dining room and its grand mahogany table. Adele sat at the head, and the other two sat down at the first seat on either side of her.

The kitchenmaid brought out the first course, and they ate for a moment in silence. Jacqueline had become anxious by Adele’s lazy and subtly sarcastic manner in the sitting room. She glanced over at her. Adele was bringing her spoon up to her mouth. She stopped and smiled when she saw Jacqueline looking at her, and then turned to Gravois and spoke without preamble.

“My father left you 5,000 francs. And a number of personal possessions. Have you talked to our solicitor?”

Gravois’ eyes widened slightly. “N-no, I have not yet.”

“Well, I fancy you’ll want to. He will sort that out,” she said. “His will was read quite some time ago, you know,” she added reproachfully.

“I’m sorry Mademoiselle, I was in the south,” he said, looking somewhat confused, as this was common knowledge.

“I know.” Adele looked away.

Gravois stared at her, slightly taken aback by her curt manner. He spoke in his grave voice. “Your father was very generous.”

“Generosity is a bore. Everyone is generous.”

Jacqueline closed her eyes, took a breath, and opened them again. Once she did, she glanced back to Adele, who was looking disinterestedly at something over Jacqueline’s shoulder. She turned to see the kitchenmaid bringing out the next course.

The girl deposited a sliver tray with a beautifully decorated roasted chicken on the table. A rich aroma filled the air, and all were quiet as they watched the kichenmaid serve a dish of the chicken to each of them and then walk softly out of the room.

Wordlessly, they all began eating, the only sounds the clanging of forks and knives against china plates.

“This chicken is magnificent. You have a most excellent cook, Mademoiselle.” Gravois’ voice broke the quiet.

“You may take her, if you like,” Adele said offhandedly.

Jacqueline had never wished to kick someone’s foot under the table more than at this moment. Unfortunately, there was a good five feet separating them. Adele seemed to read her mind, as she turned and looked at her, amusement in her eyes and the hint of a dry smile on her lips. She spoke again quickly, saving Gravois from having to stutter over a reply.

“Tell me, Monsieur, how you like to spend your free time. Do you manage to get out often?” she asked charmingly.

He seemed to welcome the change of topic. “Every so often, yes, I do enjoy a night out in Paris.”

“You didn’t happen to go to Madame Renard’s ball in January, did you? It was the most wonderful time, and the loveliest people were there.” Her eyes implored his own for an affirmative answer, her words passionate.

“I’m afraid not, Mademoiselle.”

“How about the Vincents? I went to a dinner of theirs just last week. The kindest people. Oh, they throw the most fabulous dinners just about every week; tell me you’ve been to one?

Jacqueline fought against wincing. Her face remained calm, and she looked to Adele sternly. Adele smiled wickedly in return.

Gravois looked down. “I cannot say I have, unfortunately.”

“What a pity. Oh! I just remembered a most interesting rumor, concerning yourself. That you were engaged to a Mademoiselle Cecile Valois? Is that so?

The Valois were one of the richest families in France. Mademoiselle Cecile Valois was among the most beautiful and charming young ladies of Paris. Jacqueline swallowed heavily, and set down her glass of wine.

Gravois’ eyes appeared strained. “That is only a rumor, I’m afraid.”

Jacqueline threw Adele a meaningful look. Adele’s smile only grew wider, but she looked away.

Gravois was looking down at the table, paler than before.

Jacqueline collected her breath. “How was your journey north, Monsieur Gravois? Were the roads terrible at this time of year?” she asked calmly, attempting to resurrect the semblance of any type of polite conversation.

Gravois jumped upon her question gratefully, and the two entered into a conversation concerning the state of French roads which lasted for quite some time. Jacqueline concluded this was her purpose, and the reason Adele insisted she dine with them tonight. Besides, Adele was resentful enough of having to go through all the formalities for Gravois’ sake. She would not be bothered to have to carry an entire conversation as well.


----------


Jacqueline walked back to the house one afternoon after going to Leburn’s. After getting herself a glass of water from the kitchens, she ventured into the study and, finding it empty, proceeded to walk upstairs to Adele’s rooms. She knocked once on the door to no answer. She tried the handle and opened the door. Almost all the doors in the house had locks, and Adele would have used hers had she wanted privacy.

Upon first entering Adele’s sitting room, she thought it empty, until she looked over to the far corner by the window. Adele stood there, with one leg extended outward behind her and both arms in the air, in the arabesque ballet position. She had the lithe body of a dancer already, and she looked graceful in her pose, her unsmiling face the only thing marring the picture of beauty. Her legs and arms trembled, and sweat had formed on her forehead. Her hair was up, but dark wisps plastered against her pale face.

Jacqueline stared. When Adele was eleven and Jacqueline was nine, Adele had asked her father for ballet lessons. He obliged, and she took them for three years until DuPont realized ballet dancing was not a pastime of the elite. Adele had not put up a fight, as she had seen the wisdom in it and, to Jacqueline’s knowledge, she had not danced since.

Adele hadn’t moved or turned her head to Jacqueline’s entry. Her arms and legs continued to shake as she maintained the position.

“I’ve just come from Leburn’s,” said Jacqueline, as she stood in the center of the room.

Adele said nothing, though her face tightened as she held her position. Her left arm shook disproportionately.

“Lucas gave me some good information, if you’d like to hear now.”

Adele ignored her. Jacqueline stared at her for a minute before turning around to leave the room. If she had learned anything in dealing with Adele, it was not to press matters. Once at the door, she glanced back over her shoulder. She had not moved from her elegant pose, and her body continued to shake.

-----

Some weeks later Adele sat in her private sitting room, reading a book. A knock sounded from her door.

“Come in,” she called without looking up.

The housemaid Lucie came in. She had mousy brown hair and a round, kind face, which was now twisted in an expression of nervousness. Adele looked up from her book and stared at her expectantly.

“M-mademoiselle Adele?” she asked timidly.

Yes?”

Adele considered ordering this girl, and all the servants for that matter, to relay any future messages through Jacqueline. But before she could articulate these thoughts, the girl spoke.

“Mademoiselle, there is a colonel here to see you, a Colonel Despard. Do you wish to see him, or shall I turn him away?”

“I’ll see him. Go do something useful.” Adele rose.




-----------

Thanks everyone so much! I seriously don't know what I'd do without you guys. I edited it to change most of your guys' suggestions, except for what was not easily fixable. If I didn't change something, that's probably just because I couldn't figure out how to do it yet. And, I'm going to add in more descriptions and a scene with kitchen gossip from the servants, so those will take some time too. Thank you all again so much.
Last edited by Attolia on Mon Jul 12, 2010 3:26 am, edited 1 time in total.
  





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Tue Jun 29, 2010 3:06 pm
*coco says...



Brilliant, as always! Yay with the end, I was looking forward to reading more about Francois Despard.

Good job, Attolia!

*coco
"Do you know what my heart says now? It says that I should forget about politics and be with you. No matter what. You're a true Queen, a Queen any King would kill for." - Prince Francis ♕
  





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Wed Jun 30, 2010 6:39 am
zankoku_na_tenshi says...



Hi, Attolia! Sorry I’m late. ^_^

First of all, ADELE. <3 She’s still delightfully cold, fascinatingly self-preoccupied, and just generally a little evil, but this chapter still gives me the definite impression that something is falling apart. There were all sorts of subtle little hints—like when she sits in the chair, frozen and alone, and when she randomly mocks the poor accountant for no apparent reason except to humor herself with how uncomfortable he becomes. My favorite scene for this by far, though, is the one where Jacqueline walks in on her practicing her ballet—she’s so caught up in it, so serious, she doesn’t even notice Jacqueline, and her struggling to stay in position is the first time we’ve seen her really display any genuine outward emotion. She doesn’t say a line, Jacqueline doesn’t comment, but just from the trembling of her arms as she struggles to keep them in the air it’s clear that the façade is cracking. And why shouldn’t it be? After all, Adele has just had a major wrench thrown in one of her plans, presumably for the first time. Her father and comrade were killed, her target survived, she’s failed for the first time, and it’s getting harder to keep up the act. It’s harder to pretend she’s in control because, for the first time in a long time, she’s so obviously not in control.

However, at the same time, she’s delightful in her attempts to maintain that control. She still possesses that dazzling charm, that easy deception, that make her such a charismatic villain protagonist in the first place. She rolls so easily through the funeral, and through life afterward, she so skillfully torments the poor accountant with carefully directed words that seem like innocent politeness. I like how much it was left up to interpretation whether she really is grieving or not, how even Jacqueline isn’t so sure if her tears are real. For her and for us (and perhaps even for Adele) it’s hard to tell where the real person ends and the mask begins, because the real Adele is so well concealed. So far, the story is turning out to be a really great character study of her, and I’m so excited to see where she goes and what she becomes from here.

Jacqueline, by the way, is great here as well. Her function in this story so far has been more as the lens through which we see Adele, but I like the hints of her that appear in this chapter, too—like the fact that she feels out of place in Adele’s household. It’s clear that she’s feeling uncomfortable and out of place in the whole situation she’s in, and it’s clear that Adele really bothers her on a fundamental level. I’m so curious to find out more about her and who she is as a character.

Not a lot really happened in this chapter, but I still feel like it was essential for the development of the characters, particularly Adele, and there are certainly hints that something big is coming up. I’m really wondering now just what it is that Adele and Jacqueline are doing, and what it has to do with the war, and what they’re motivations are—it’s so exciting. And of course, there’s the more immediate matter of Francois showing up at the door… I can’t wait to find out how he’ll be involved with the coming events.

A few nitpicks:

but even Jacqueline never knew how much so it was.

The phrasing of “how much so it was” keeps tripping me up.

Apart from that, her life remained very much the same.

I don’t think this sentence is really necessary, since you’ve already said a couple times that her life hasn’t changed much.

Jacqueline had become anxious by Adele’s lazy and subtly sarcastic manner in the sitting room.

Something about the “had become” doesn’t sit right with me, and for the life of me, I can’t figure out why. I think this sentence might actually work better reversed—“Adele’s lazy and sarcastic manner in the drawing room had made Jacqueline anxious.” Or something.

Anyway! This was a great character development chapter, and this story really has me on the edge of my seat to find out what’s going to happen to the characters next. I’m totally psyched for chapter five—see you then!
"The world is not beautiful, therefore, it is." --Kino's Journey

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Wed Jun 30, 2010 1:15 pm
Rydia says...



A few specifics first and then some more general comments:

Adèle Dupont cried at her father’s funeral. Surrounded by her uncle and cousins, she sat in the front row of pews observing the ceremony, and tears trickled down her face. This left her eyes suitably red and tearstained [tear stained or tear-stained.] for the many condolences she received following which followed. Men and women of all levels of class and importance – strangers and familiar faces alike – approached her for etiquette’s sake to express their sympathy. She nodded and thanked them with sad charm from beneath her sheer black veil as they made their rounds.


Jacqueline Bouvier, always nearby Adèle at such public appearances, sat behind her in the pews and stood beside her afterward. She knew it was all an act. Everything was an act with Adèle, but even Jacqueline never knew how much so it was.
I think this needs to be phrased better. It isn't clear what you're meaning to suggest: whether it is that Jaqueline isn't sure that this is an act or that she's entirely sure but doesn't realise that something else such as their friendship is an act.

The room was unbearably cold; the windows on the far side of the room were open, their dark curtains blowing wildly, and gusts of night air streamed [Would read better as streaming. Careful of those tense changes!] continually into the room. Jacqueline shivered and rubbed her arms. Adele ignored her presence and continued looking ahead. A few minutes of silence passed.


“What are we to do now?” Jacqueline broached to the silent room.
Be aware of your use of words. Broached is quite an unusual one and too much so to use it twice in the same 'section'. This is also a very awkward use of it and unnecessary so it appears that you're using it just for the sake of that 'old' feel. I'd suggest asked or interrupted the silence etc.

The girl deposited a sliver tray with a beautifully decorated roasted chicken on the table. A rich aroma filled the air, and all were quiet as they watched the kichenmaid served a dish of the chicken to each of them and then walk softly out of the room.


Description

Loving the description of the sweat plastering her hair against her face in the ballet scene and much of that is very well done, very iconic. There's a lovely feel of the dramatic about that scene and I like how you don't press or emphasise it too far.

You've got a better grip on the senses now. I do occasionally feel that there could be more to touch and smell but the descriptions of voice tones, clothes, rooms. It's all wonderfully done.

Persona

I liked how this chapter leaned toward Jaqueline's view even more. It was good to get a sense of her. Maybe that could be stronger? It's clear that she doesn't fit and there's much she doesn't approve of so it makes me wonder why she's here and how much of a strain this is placing on her. The reader can see Adele losing control but what about the rest of the household? Surely this is difficult for them as well who are used to serving their late master, not this young, cold, strange mistress. Jaqueline is almost a part of the staff so where's her interaction with them? Where's the kitchen gossip and feeling of upset and unrest throughout the house. I'd really like to see more of that. At the moment it's still so very calm which isn't fitting after such an event. I'd love to be able to compare the slight shaking of adele to the disruption of everyone else. They should be fearing for their jobs and yet unable to resist speculating about what might have happened and wondering who their young mistress has become. I suppose they would have been familiar with her as a child? I'd really love some gossip over any changes in her bahaviour!

Dramatic endings

Okay so you want to give your readers a reason to return for the next chapter but this is still feeling like a TV series as opposed to a novel. A talented writer (and you are that) should feel confident in having an event happen in the middle of a chapter and being able to wind down to lesser events before ending and moving on to another. It seems inappropriate to end the chapter here. In all honesty, a chapter should change when it comes to a natural end such as the change of a scene or perspective, not when a character is about to enter the room. That's very TV like, the whole giving something dramatic just before a break. We aren't going to scamper off, I promise. And it makes us feel your strength as a writer more.

That's all for now! I look forward to the next part :)

Heather xx
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Sun Jul 04, 2010 9:17 pm
canislupis says...



Hi there Attolia! So, I think this is a very strong chapter—the plot is moving along nicely and your characters are very well developed. I’m thinking most of my comments will be stylistic type stuff, but here goes. ;D Also sorry if I repeat anything. XD I wrote it on my computer and so didn't read the other reviews.

She knew it was all an act. Everything was an act with Adèle, but even Jacqueline never knew how much so it was.


This part seemed like overkill to me--we already know it's an act.

A quarter of an hour later they had arrived back at the house. Though almost foreign to her young mistress, to whom it now belonged, it was home to Jacqueline. Adèle was not one to stay in a single place for long, and her past endeavors had suited mobility regardless. But all that was over now. Jacqueline didn’t bother pondering the possible effects of Charles Dupont’s death and Adèle’s homecoming; she only knew they would be monumental.




While I love the character development in this chapter, I feel like the poetic quality of the prose got lost a little bit; a lot of the sentences feel very choppy to me here. It’s also a teency bit telly, though I didn’t mind that as much.


but she stared now with a directness that startled her. Her tears had long since disappeared and no traces remained; she merely looked cold and aloof. Jacqueline thought suddenly of the goddesses of antiquity, with their beauty and their passionless cruelty. She fought against an irrational desire to take a step backward.



Love this part but the “she stared now” felt awkward.


The two girls walked into the house, and Adele headed toward the stairs without sparing Jacqueline a second glance.


I can’t help but notice that you drop the accent above the ‘e’ in Adele’s name from this point on. Is there a reason for this?



their dark curtains blowing wildly, and gusts of night air streamed continually into the room. Jacqueline shivered and rubbed her arms. Adele ignored her presence and continued looking ahead. A few minutes of silence passed.



I love Adele here. But can curtains really blow?


she said theatrically.



The dialogue tags were a bit much here, especially since we already know who’s talking.


wisps plastered against her pale face.



“Were plastered”? Either way, I love this description and the way she’s shown as a bit more vulnerable for once. Also, the way she tormented that poor guy so easily while staying polite was very well done.


At this point, I’m kinda wondering what the rest of the household is doing right now—and actually, maybe a bit more input from other characters in general. The story so far has been really focused on Adele and Jacqueline, with all the other characters barely getting more than a mention. That’s fine, but I’d like them to be a bit more developed.


if you’d like to hear now.”



Hear it?


Some weeks later Adele sat in her private sitting room, reading a book. A knock sounded from her door.




This transition was a bit abrupt.


She had mousy brown hair and a round, kind face, which was now twisted in an expression of nervousness. Adele looked up from her book and stared at her expectantly.


While I like that you’re describing her at all, descriptions like this tend to jar me out of the story—kinda police blotter like, you know? “she is x tall with blue eyes and black hair, average weight. Last seen wearing a brown dress....”

See what I mean?

“Mademoiselle, there is a colonel here to see you. A Lt. Colonel Francois Despard. Shall I see him in?”



Kind of a weird place to end, if you ask me. A bit too abrupt. (I understand that this bit was getting kinda long for YWS, but in your copy I’d let the chapter go on till it’s logical conclusion, or maybe cut it off before the section with Adele’s POV.)


Sorry I couldn’t be more helpful on this bit. I like your descriptions and such, (though I still feel there could be a bit more, as I don’t even know what the house looks like). The best thing about this chapter is the character development—but you already heard me talk about that. I also like how the prose is a bit distant from Adele, which fits her character and somehow doesn’t sever the connection between the reader and her. (<-- did that even make sense? :lol:)

Plot=Excellent, and the same with the pacing.

My main complaint is that while this is definitely one of my current favourite pieces on YWS, the images just aren’t coming through all the way. It doesn’t feel completely real, and I think it could.


1: The house—seriously, what does it look like? How many servants? How many rooms? Is it in a busy part of the city, or is there a large yard? Who runs the house now that her father is dead? Etc.


2. Sensory descriptions. You have more of them in this chapter than in the last one, and some of them (like the hair plastered on her forehead) are very very well done, but I still feel like there could be a bit more. Really try imagining yourself there.


Prose itself=excellent as usual, but a bit choppy in some places. A short run-through would probably be helpful.


Transitions=a bit abrupt, especially when you switch between Adele and Jacqueline’s viewpoints.


Overall=I want to read more, which is the most important thing. :D Thanks for posting! Again, sorry I couldn’t be more helpful. Let me know when you post the next bit!


Lupis
  





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Sun Jul 04, 2010 10:38 pm
Navita says...



Hey! I skim read the third chapter, and from what I can tell, it's looking much neater now. Good work!

I just happened to notice one thing (and remind me to go back over chapter three once you've fully perfected it - this could be months on from now, by the way...): stick to calling Francois Despard by either his first or his last name. What you're doing there is really unecessary - what exactly are you trying to add to the story? I don't need to have his full name shoved down my throat; nor do I particularly care what his full name is. If he's important enough, I'll remember it.

---

Okay, just finished this. Great ending - I love a good cliffhanger, mysteries galore (why the ballet?!?! -- fantastique, Attolia), that tension that continues to ripple throughout this. I am, however, in two minds about the diction here. It's formal - excessively so - and sometimes can come across as dry, essay-like. Usually, you fix that with the plot and entertaining characters, but I notice it now and then as we slip into line written in an almost non-fiction style. While this is suitable for the era in which the story is set, I'm not sure it's going to appeal to everyone. But I've stated that before - this piece of fiction targets only a certain type of audience. Even so, you might want to consider neatening up some lines.


This left her eyes suitably red and tearstained for the many condolences she received following.


While I love the idea of her fake-crying, I think this line is excessively formal. Her eyes were left suitably red for the many condolences she received following. That's too much. And it kills the subtlety and vague humour here we might otherwise get from watching her.

Jacqueline was struck suddenly by the strength of Adele’s gaze. For some reason, she had been unconsciously expecting Adele to be distant or vague, but she stared now with a directness that startled her. Her tears had long since disappeared and no traces remained; she merely looked cold and aloof. Jacqueline thought suddenly of the goddesses of antiquity, with their beauty and their passionless cruelty. She fought against an irrational desire to take a step backward.


Only the bolded part seems relevant to me. You do not need to point out she looks cold and aloof - we know that. I don't see why godesses of tranquility are being dragged in. Anything we're going to get from this section we get in the first few lines.

And tell Marie I’d like that lamb again for dinner,” she said.


Haha. I don't know what to make of this. It seems to make her incredibly human all of a sudden - the fact that Adele has human desires. She wants lamb for dinner!!! I think this kind of slip in character comes across as strange. I don't think Adele would particularly care what she had for dinner.

She seems like the type who eats other people for dinner, that's why.

The day passed, and Jacqueline had a quiet supper in the kitchens with Marie and Lucie, one of the housemaids.


This scene needs to start at something a little more exciting than 'The day passed.' And later, you say, Jacqueline broached to the room. The first time you used that word, I let it pass. Now, it's just incredibly formal. And dry.

She paused almost lazily. “They’ll come. But, you know,” she shot her another look, “a tool isn’t really a tool at all if it can think for itself. So they’ll watch me for a while. And then they’ll come,” she drawled.


Lazy pausing is good. Drawling doesn't work. She's French, she speaks with a clipped, poised, perfect accent. Adele does not drawl.

“I never said we’d do nothing. Only fools do nothing.”


Great! Just what I'd expect her to say. In fact, I'm all for you throwing more wit into all of their conversations now. It'd add such a pointedly humorous and sarcastic dimension to her character.

Waiting did not happen to be all that different from Jacqueline’s daily life. In fact, it was exactly the same, except for the presence of Adele. Jacqueline would accompany her about town or eat meals with her occasionally. Her presence also meant a more immediate relay of information from their informants. Apart from that, her life remained very much the same.


I have this objection to talking about how 'it was all the same.' That seems dull. While it might be true, surely there's a more discreet way to say it?

Gravois stared at her, slightly taken aback by her curt manner. He spoke in his grave voice. “Your father was very generous.”

“My father was many things.”


This was pretentious dialogue. Add some wit to it.

Adele’s smile only grew wider, but she looked away, contentedly amused.


It's redundant.

Adele hadn’t moved or turned her head to Jacqueline’s entry. Her arms and legs continued to shake as she maintained the position.

“I’ve just come from Leburn’s,” said Jacqueline, as she stood in the center of the room.

Adele said nothing, though her face tightened as she held her position. Her left arm shook disproportionately.

“Lucas gave me some good information, if you’d like to hear now.”

Adele ignored her. Jacqueline stared at her for a minute before turning around to leave the room. If she had learned anything in dealing with Adele, it was not to press matters. Once at the door, she glanced back over her shoulder. She had not moved from her elegant pose, and her body continued to shake.


THAT was a great piece of writing. J talks, A does, J talks, A ignores etc - that sort of back and forth flicking - reminds me of a film, again. Fantastic.

“Mademoiselle, there is a colonel here to see you. A Lt. Colonel Francois Despard. Shall I see him in?”


Now, about this ending. I'm rather attached to cliffhangers. It leaves us wondering, thinking - always a good thing. It means you've stopped the action right at the climax, not bothering to do that 'gradual downhill slide into mundaneness in an effort to wrap things up.' I hate it when people do that. I prefer ending on a strong note, rather than a dull one. In that regard, I'd say this ending works.

I see where Heather is coming from. Rather than saying it looks cheap, I'd say it looks like control - but yes, I see what she means as well. I don't think this can be called cheap, actually - it's so well-written. Keep it.

--

So, it took me some time to finish this - I did it in bits, so it has been sitting in my drafts for a week. No matter - it's done :P I look forward to the next chapter.
  





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Wed Jul 07, 2010 3:53 pm
Lauren2010 says...



So sorry for the delay, Attolia! I've been vacationing.

Another lovely chapter! Adele is such an intruiging character, it's fun to read about her and I can't wait to see what goes down with Despard. It also seems as if something is starting to fall apart as well? I'm excited to discover more.

I feel like all the other reviewers hit everything already, so I wouldn't want to repeat anything. I guess the only thing is I'd like to see a bit more of Jacqueline and what she's all about. Adele is a fantastic character, and Jacqueline seems as if she will be too. Though, certainly as the story goes we'll get more of her, so it's not much of a problem at all. :)

I'm really sorry I don't have much else to say! I'll be sure to get to the next chapter you post in a much more timely manner. Good luck and keep writing!

-Lauren-
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The continuation of our world depends more on the survival of the kindest than it does on the survival of the fittest.
— Arcticus