This appreciative review — even though it dwells rather too much on “women writers” — is especially notable for the proper respect it pays to Heyer’s gift with canine characters, and comes courtesy of Western Australia’s Geraldton Guardian and Express (August 31, 1929).
Unreasonably enough, most of us seem to have a kind of prejudice against women writers, from George Eliot right down to Baroness Gorezy [sic], but in Pastel, Georgette Heyer’s new novel, we seem to forget the sex of the writer in the enchantment of the tale, which, although about women, might quite as well been written by a man.
I rather fancy the theme has been worked before, but Miss Heyer has written a story that does not entirely depend on theme. Pastel is the account of a girl, Frances Stornaway, who is continually outshone by her brilliant sister, Evelyn, who scoops in all the admiration and prizes, and, finally, Frances’ own hero—Oliver Fayre—who is drawn with that faint strain of femininity that few women writers seem to be able to keep out of their male characters.
However, Pastel is an absorbing and human story, admirably told, and containing easy and natural dialogue. You will sympathise with Frances, who, though a dull girl, is rather a dear, and you will feel glad when at last romance comes to her in the form of that stodgy, but nice, young man, Norman Acre. There are hepas of other delightful people in Pastel, and the one I think I liked more than any was the absurd dog “Nibs,” who, when the baby cried, “held his head on one side and looked too funny for words.” The book as the further merit—rare in modern novels—of being clean, decent and wholesome in tone–apart from its being one of the most charming variations on the Cinderella theme that I have ever read.
SOURCE: “ON MY SHELF” 1929-08-31. Geraldton Guardian and Express, p. 3.
