Cleo rides again or How to have a historical launch party by Mary Hoffman

You remember that our May guest was Lucy Coats? She talked about the masses of research she had done for her latest YA novel, Cleo (published by Orchard). Well, last month the book was thoroughly launched at the Thames-side apartment of a friend, which is rapidly becoming the go-to venue for all History Girls and their guests.



The first rule of any launch party: get a book cake made!

On the left, the fabulous cover of Cleo designed by Thy Bui. On the right, the equally fabulous cake made by a friend of Lucy's (this one was hand-painted but there are sites you can find in the Internet which will make you a cake topper based on a photograph).

The room was dressed with appropriate detail:

As was the author:

The inventive canapés were labelled things like "Bastet balls" and "Sobek Surprises" and the prosecco flowed. You can name the most ordinary nibbles acording to your book's theme - they don't have to be as spectacular as these actually were. Even a Twiglet will sound more exciting as a "Devil Stick" if your novel happens to be about the persucution of witches.

So, what to do if you don't have a friend with a fabulous apartment? Candy Gourlay recently wrote about book launches (and she has attended a couple by the Thames) and makes it clear that you cut your party coat according to your cloth. Those readers of this who aren't writers might be surprised to discover that we have been organising these things ourselves. "Isn't that what publishers' publicity departments do?" I hear you ask.

The fact is that publisher launches are increasingly rare and if you want a splash, you must part with some cash. Many bookshops, especially the independents will be having to host your party without charging room hire as long as you organise the food, drink and glasses. And your editor will graciously come and say a few words, relieved that you haven't thrown an author wobbly and deminded cocktails at the Ritz.

And if you've written a historical novel, so much the better, as these lend themselves best of all to a little room-dressing and indeed dressing up.

Nothing says Ancient Egypt like a few gingerbread pyramids on a tray of soft brown sugar sand! And a quick trawl of the Internet will bring you some essential items, like a pink plastic flamingo:

And if you are shy and averse to dressing up, you can usually count on some young people to do it for you. What you can't avoid is the "author reading" unless you have an actor friend to do it for you. Your public (i.e. all the happy friends at your party) will expect it.

And who are these people? You will invite some journalists and reviewers in a spirit of hope for some attention to your book but you will be lucky if one or two show up. Bloggers are usually happy to come so choose some who write about your genre or books for the age group your title is for. But paper the room with your nearest and dearest, family and close friends, who will be genuinely happy for your book and listen with rapt attention to the reading.

But beware of cultural differences when checking your RSVP list: I recently discovered it's customary to bring a "Plus One" to parties even when that hasn't been specified on the invitation - a complete no-no in the UK.

If your launch isn't in a bookshop, see if you can get an independent bookseller to come along with copies for sale. It spreads the word and people are very amenable to buying books when mellow with wine and charmed by your set dressing ideas.

Above all, enjoy yourself! You've written and published a full-length book, something that thousands of people dream of doing and very few achieve. Let your hair down - maybe twist it up into an elegant style or wear a hat or a wig, like the amazing Sarah McIntyre. (try the About or Events pages to see what I mean!)

My next launch will be of Shakespeare's Ghost and I'm definitely willing to dress up. But I need a beautiful young man and a baldy with a beard to be the bard. Any offers?

Pearls of Antiquity

Coleman Douglas Pearls

by Caroline Lawrence

Last Thursday I attended a small exhibit of portraits by my friend Lorna Lawson-Cruttenden. The paintings were on show at an unusual venue, a jewellery shop specialising in pearls. Coleman Douglas Pearls is located at 42 Beauchamp Place in Knightsbridge, London.

The owner of the store, Ms. Christianne Douglas, served us champagne with a pearl at the bottom of each flute! Naturally this led to a discussion of Cleopatra and her pearl dissolved in vinegar. I told Ms. Douglas that I would try to rustle up some famous pearls of antiquity. Here are seven:

pearls in champagne

I. Cleopatra's Amuse Bouche
Pliny the Elder tells the story in book nine of his Natural History. Cleopatra and Mark Anthony, in the first flush of love, were vying to outdo each other. She boasted to Anthony that she could consume the most expensive meal known to man. Possessor of the two largest pearls in the known world – which she had made into earrings – she now removed one from her ear, dissolved it in a beaker of vinegar and drank it down! She was about to do the same to the other one when the 'umpire' declared that she had won and Anthony lost. Cleopatra had the remaining pearl cut in half and dedicated it to the goddess of love, placing the two halves on the lobes of the statue of Venus in the Pantheon at Rome.
(Pliny Nat. Hist. IX.59.119-121)

II. Caesar's Mistress
The imperial biographer Suetonius tells how Julius Caesar was 'much addicted to women' and 'debauched many ladies of the highest quality'. But his favourite was a certain Servilia. He loved her so much that he bought her a pearl which cost six million sesterces. Servilia was the mother of Marcus Brutus and some wonder if Caesar might have been his father. If so, this would give added poignancy to the words Caesar reportedly uttered when Brutus dealt the death stab; not 'Et tu, Brute?' but the Greek, Kai su teknon? ('And you, my child?')
(Suetonius Life of Caesar)

III. Jesus' Parable
Although luxurious pearls were often equated with sinful indulgence in the New Testament (e.g. 1 Timothy 2:9 & Revelation 17:4) Jesus said, 'The kingdom of heaven is like a merchant looking for fine pearls. When he found one of great value, he went away and sold everything he had and bought it.' (Matthew 13.45-46)

IV. Vitellius's campaign
Suetonius tells how the Emperor Galba sent General Vitellius into Lower Germany to conquer some lower Germans. In those days you had to finance your own campaigns. Vitellius was strapped for cash, so in order to raise funds, he pawned a magnificent pearl earring belonging to his mother. This gamble paid off. He soon became emperor.
(Suetonius Life of Vitellius)

pearl earrings from Oplontis

V. Oplontis Earrings
Among the treasures on show at the British Museum’s current Life and Death in Pompeii and Herculaneum exhibition is a cache of jewellery found on a woman fleeing Oplontis, the site of a luxurious villa between Herculaneum and Pompeii. Along with the gold and emerald necklaces were a pair of superb pearl earrings. These kind of pearl earrings were often called crotalia 'castanets' because the dangly pearls clicked as they knocked one another. (Pliny Nat. Hist. 9.55) According to Paul Roberts’ brilliant guide to the exhibition, the cheaper freshwater pearls survived in Pompeian tufa (hardened volcanic ash) much better than more expensive seawater pearls.

VI. Pearly Pets
In the Satyricon of Petronius, the nouveau riche Trimalchio sets his dog on the beloved dog of one of his 'boys'. How do we know the dog was beloved? Because her master named her Margarita or 'Pearl'. (Petronius Satyricon LXVII) The first century poet Martial writes of a lap-dog named Issa who was more precious to her master than 'Indian stones', i.e. pearls. (Martial Epigrams I.109)

strings of cultured pearls

VII. A Syrian prostitute named ‘Pearl’
Pelagia was a breathtakingly beautiful prostitute who lived in Antioch in the late 4th century. She wore so many pearls that the locals called her Marganito (Syriac for 'Pearl'). One day some bishops and monks were gathered near the tomb of a saint when she rode by on her donkey, followed by a crowd of admirers. The 'God-loving' bishop Nonnos saw her and prayed fervently for her salvation with tears and fasting. When Marganito showed up at the weekly service she was so overwhelmed by the power of his preaching that she immediately repented of her sins and gave all her pearls to the church with instructions they be sold to feed widows and orphans. She then put off the nickname Marganito, dressed as a man and travelled to Jerusalem where she became famous as the holy 'eunuch' Pelagius!
(from Holy Women of the Syrian Orient by Sebastian P. Brock)

Lorna Lawson-Cruttenden's portraits will be on show at Coleman Douglas Pearls until 22 June 2013 and you can see a magnificent collection of natural and cultured pearls there any time.  

Cleopatra and other royal connections. By Adèle Geras

I wish I kept a diary. Then I could date the occasion (I think sometime in 2006) when I had a personal brush with royalty. Sort of. In a way. My dealings with Cleopatra go back to 2005, when my agent rang to tell me that Kingfisher Books had invited me to write about Cleopatra for children of about 9 or 10. This book was to take the form of a diary written by a child (to give the child’s eye view) and would be very lavishly produced and illustrated in full colour throughout. One half of the book would be the diary, written by me and the second half would be full of proper historical, factual information that students of the period might want to know. The second half, it was made quite clear, would NOT be my responsibility, but researched and written by someone else. This is a picture of the hardback (which led to one of the best emails I ever got in my life: So sorry we can’t send you a colour proof of the cover but we’re having a bit of trouble embedding the jewels. Yes, those emeralds and rubies you can see at the top and bottom of the picture are in fact very authentic-looking bits of plastic which give the book the kind of glamour its subject would have appreciated. The paperback, which appears on the 15th of this month, is less dazzling but perhaps more child-friendly and also shows off the wonderful artwork by M.P.Robertson.

My first impulse was to wonder why a story so full of sex and death would be suitable for 9 year olds and then I thought: why not? They’re as interested in both subjects as anyone else. My second thought was a panicked question: what on earth do I know about Cleopatra? Well, I’d seen the George Bernard Shaw play so I knew about her arriving wrapped in a rug and being unrolled in front of Julius Caesar. I’d read Shakespeare’s Antony and Cleopatra and knew the speech . “The barge she sat in like a burnished throne” etc. But most clearly of all, I knew Elizabeth Taylor in yellow chiffon (when in Egypt) and gold from top to toe (for Rome and her triumphal procession) wearing more viridian eye shadow than any eyelid should be required to carry and with black eyebrows like small caterpillars over each violet eye, fainting with desire in the arms of the slightly square but very delicious Richard Burton. Of course I agreed to write my part of the book at once. I couldn’t resist.

My editor and also the chief writer of the other half of the book, and the person who was in charge of sending me all the research notes I needed was the excellent Alison Stanley. At a certain point (oh I wish I’d kept a diary) Alison emailed me proposing a meeting. We could either meet in Manchester, where I was living back then, or I could come down to London to the Kingfisher offices, or I could come to her house in Windsor. Her husband, Roger Judd, was assistant organist at St George’s Chapel, a post he held for more than twenty years. Well, which would you have chosen? Of course I accepted Alison’s kind invitation.

Alison and Roger have moved since then but at the time they lived in a house known as Marbeck, after the first organist and choir master John Marbeck who took up his post at St George's in in 1551. In those days, the choristers used to live and work in the same house as their master. Next door to Alison and Roger’s house was Vicars' Hall which is said to have been the venue for the very first performance of The Merry Wives of Windsor. I couldn’t believe I was going to have lunch in such a place.

The fun started when Alison and I walked in past the guard at the gates of Windsor Castle. Alison greeted this soldier, complete with busby, by his first name and he just waved us through. I don’t remember anything about the editing, though we must have discussed the book, I’m sure. I remember a very delicious lunch - how come I can ALWAYS remember meals? - and then a private tour of St George’s Chapel which, because I was with Alison, meant we could go up to the organ loft and look down at the whole Chapel. I was shown the small hidey-hole with a view over the nave from which Queen Victoria witnessed the marriage of the Prince of Wales in 1863,when her mourning for Prince Albert prevented her from appearing in public. Every member of the Chapel staff whom we met was kindness itself and showed me things not generally seen by the public, such as a kind of filing system for clerical robes and other accoutrements: a chest -of- drawers made up of many very wide , thin drawers in which fabrics could lie flat until they were needed. Anyone who’s been to St George’s Chapel will know how beautiful it is. This link,http://www.stgeorges-windsor.org/worship-and-music/experience-st-georges/st-georges-panorama.html if you click on it, will take you to some virtual tours. I loved being there and I’m still grateful to Alison for making that possible. I’m also grateful to her for making the second half of my book a really terrific resource for anyone studying the clever, sexy, dangerous and tragic queen of Egypt whose lustre is undimmed, many centuries after her death. Shakespeare, as usual, said it exactly: Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale/Her infinite variety.