Without further ado, here is Elizabeth!
One of my favorite descriptions of Nico de Clerac, the
fictional hero of The Flower Reader,
falls in the course of a court masque, in which the Queen of Scots is costumed
as Apollo and nine of her gentlemen courtiers are costumed as the Muses of
Greek mythology:
... a hand in a silver glove
closed itself around Blaise Laurentin’s forearm just so, and with a little
grunt of pain the Frenchman let go of my wrist. I turned my head, and there I
saw the queen’s advisor and secretary Nicolas de Clerac, costumed as Urania,
the muse of astronomy, his white silk tunic and gathered mantle embroidered
with scattered silver globes and compasses. There were blue and silver streaks
of paint around his eyes. All the same, he did not look foolish or mischievous
as the other gentlemen did; woman’s costume or no, if I had met him alone in a
dark place I would have been afraid of him....
(George Buchanan, Mary’s tutor, actually did write a masque
featuring Apollo and the Muses which was performed in the early years of her
Scottish reign, although I’ve taken a number of fictional liberties with its
staging.)
This is the quintessence of Nico—he is the foppish
courtier/man of action, the swordsman with maquillage. That duality fascinates
me, and for me makes a character like Nico de Clerac endlessly intense and
compelling.
Of course, I’m only the last and least in a long line of
writers who have explored this duality. There was Baroness Orczy, of course,
with The Scarlet Pimpernel—who could
ever forget Sir Percy Blakeney? I loved that book as a child, and checked it
out from the library so many times my poor mother finally gave me my very own
copy for a birthday present. I also loved Zorro—Zorro not only had a black mask
and a black cape but he had a magnificent black stallion as well, and for me a
horse was always a plus. I was introduced to Zorro by the Disney versions, but
soon graduated to Johnston McCulley’s original novel, The Mark of Zorro. My seventeen-year-old heart was never the same.
Later I discovered the incomparable Dorothy Dunnett’s
Francis Crawford of Lymond, and followed him breathlessly through all his
adventures, from Scotland to France to the Levant to Russia and back to France
and Scotland again. By then I had also embarked on my lifelong fascination with
Mary Queen of Scots, and could only wish that Lymond’s checkered chronicle had
continued into the years of Mary’s adulthood and her return to reign in
Scotland.
Later in The Flower
Reader we see Nico again:
...Nicolas
de Clerac turned into a countryman overnight, with a little help from Wat
Cairnie and Norman More. The next day he appeared with a laced linsey-woolsey
shirt over his brown leather breeches, and a plaid over his shoulder like a
herdsman...
I love him just as much with a plaid over his shoulder and
leather breeches, or for that matter with a sword in his hand (although those
scenes would be spoilers), as I do when he is acting the part of the Muse of
Astronomy with blue and silver paint around his eyes. That duality, the French
polish of the court and the ancient mythos of Scotland itself, is something I
could write about forever.
Thank you Elizabeth! In case you missed it, you can read my review of The Flower Reader HERE. This novel was definitely a treat and Nicholas de Clerac happened to be one of my fave characters in it!
What a treat! Such an interesting character.
ReplyDeleteYesssssssssss, Nico was divine! Loved him -- and his character -- so good!
ReplyDelete