Avon, $19.99, ISBN 978-0-06-295859-4
Paranormal Romance, 2020
Miss Butterworth and the Mad Baron is a tale that began as a fictional novel within Julia Quinn’s Bridgerton universe, mentioned in passing as a melodramatic Gothic romance that characters occasionally chuckled over. It was often mentioned in the Bridgerton books as a popular and somewhat melodramatic Gothic novel that some of the characters enjoy reading. It’s portrayed as a sensational story, likely filled with romance and intrigue, as befitting its genre.
Who knew it would one day materialize into an actual book? Well, here we are.
Published by Avon, this graphic novel is illustrated by Julia Quinn’s sister, Violet Charles, and supposedly “told in Julia Quinn’s playful voice.” However, don’t be fooled, as Ms Quinn’s afterword reveals this work is mostly Ms Charles’s brainchild. So, if you’re expecting Ms Quinn’s usual fare, prepare for a tonal whiplash.
Now, let’s dissect this… er, unique synopsis. Our protagonist, Miss Priscilla Butterworth, survives smallpox only to be thrust into a series of “outlandish trials.” It’s like The Secret Garden meets A Series of Unfortunate Events, with a dose of Scooby-Doo ghosts and gross humor thrown in for good measure. Our plucky heroine endures a cruel aunt because of course she does, escapes naturally, and somehow ends up with a “mad” baron. How utterly original.
Speaking of the baron, I couldn’t help but notice his ambiguously dark skin. Perhaps a nod to the Netflix adaptation’s diversity, conveniently forgetting the blindingly white cast of the original books? How… progressive.
I must confess, I’m at a loss with this one. As someone weaned on the likes of Snidely Whiplash, Dick Dastardly, and Skeletor, I appreciate a good villain and some dark humor. But this is as if someone dipped their toe into the waters of macabre comedy, found it a bit chilly, and hastily retreated to the shore. It lacks the audacity to be truly farcical, instead tiptoeing around the edges of absurdity. One can’t help but wonder if it’s an attempt to avoid alienating Julia Quinn’s usual readership, who might faint at anything more risqué than a stolen glance across a ballroom.
The result is a work that’s neither fish nor fowl, leaving this reviewer decidedly underwhelmed.
However, I feel a twinge of guilt in my cold, cynical heart upon reading Julia Quinn’s touching afterword. The tribute to her sister, tragically lost in a senseless tragedy along with their father, Ms Charles’s husband, and even the family dog, is genuinely moving. Part of me wishes I could heap praise upon this work, if only to honor their memory.
But alas, honesty compels me to tell it like it is. Miss Butterworth and the Mad Baron isn’t terrible, but it’s far from groundbreaking. It exists in that dreaded middle ground of mediocrity. For die-hard Bridgerton fans looking to complete their collection, it might serve as an interesting curio. For the rest of us? Well, let’s just say there are madder barons out there worth your time.
