The Wilder Shores of Love

Originally published in 1954 and quickly becoming a best seller; The Wilder Shores of Love portrays four admirable women who, by fate and conscious design, lived their lives brimming with dangerous adventure, passion and political savvy that threw nineteenth century society into a stir of envied condemnation. Jane Digby, `impervious to scandal', made her way across Europe like a whirling dervish of all consuming passion. Among her many flames (the list is not exhaustive) were Prince Schwarzenburg, Balzac, King Ludwig I of Bavaria and his son; Otto, King of Greece, followed by an Albanian Chieftain and a couple of Arab Sheikhs. The last with whom she settled in Syria, alternating between Damascus and desert tribal warfare in which she participated; all of this at a time when `Queen Victoria refused to countenance the remarriage of widows'. She was also a woman of great intellect, spoke nine languages fluently and retained her naiveté until the end. By contrast, Isabel Burton and Aimee Dubucq de Rivery displayed a singular sense of purpose that defied what was possible: Isabelle Burton, hypnotised by her husband to be, the awesome Richard Burton (explorer, orientalist, linguist - a kind of Livingston, Byron, T.E. Lawrence and Fitzroy Maclean all rolled into one), clung to a gipsy prophecy for nine years before she got her man. Blanch takes their relationship as a metaphor between east and west; Catholic, domesticated Isabel who was also a consummate organiser and genius Burton, who could disappear for months on end to go native, re-emerging with sensitive information that the foreign office rarely took on board. Then there is the fascinating tale of Aimee Dubucq de Rivery; kidnapped by corsairs whilst sailing to France and despatched to the harem in Constantinople for the Sultan of the Ottoman Empire. A worthy prize if ever there was one, her son became the famous reformer Sultan Mahmoud II. Blanch surveys European politics from the latticed seclusion of the harem, giving a unique perspective from this abducted beauty who was more powerful than we'll ever know. Her childhood cousin, Josephine, became Napoleon's first wife. The fourth portrait is of Isabel Eberhardt; rebel, writer, adventurer. She has a hard act to follow and doesn't come off as fascinating as the previous three but is nevertheless extraordinary in her own right. Lesley Blanch chose her subject matter well and contrasts her four portrait sitters with the backcloth of their age. The transition of nineteenth century England from the Regency period to the Victorian era she describes as `The century's smothering growth of prudery'. This is a scintillating kaleidoscope of landscapes, personalities, cultures and attitudes that offers a political insight equal to its task. It reminds us in our politically correct age that there have been real women of daring who enlivened society and challenged its boundaries in an unconventional way; yet in the end, it is more a quintet than quarte

"Did I have adventures with foreign men?'' Lesley Blanch told an interviewer on her 100th birthday. "Many times --- I like them.'' Even at that advanced age, she was still writing. Always to music, most often reggae. At night, she'd greet visitors --- she was fond of hashish dealers --- to her exotic house on the French-Italian border in clothes that matched her environment: a caftan and turban, her neck fighting a load of ethnic jewelry. To the very end of her life --- Lesley Blanch died in the spring of 1907, at 102 --- she was wildly entertaining. But her big personality is just icing. As "The Wilder Shores of Love" attests, she was a very good writer with a gift for telling remarkable stories, many of them probably true. And she was the ideal writer to profile four 19th century women who defied convention and went off to make fresh starts in North Africa and the Middle East. Or, as she called them, "four northern shadows flitting across a southern landscape." Her focus was as exotic as her prose: "love as a means of individual expression, of liberation and fulfillment within that radiant periphery." Her women weren't head-in-the-stars about love; they were "realists of romance." And the book works brilliantly because, though the lives of Blanch's women were only superficially similar, their priorities were the same --- breathing the oxygen that was only available on the wilder shores of love. Isabel Burton: Blanch chose her because she was "the supreme example of a woman who lived and had her being entirely through love." From the minute she saw them, she craved the East and the famous Victorian traveler, Richard Burton. (He spoke 28 languages. Blanch writes, one of them pornography.) Once she got him, their lives became a Greek drama: She colonized him and destroyed him, and, in the process, destroyed herself. But to what astonishing heights destruction took them --- Isabel worked tirelessly on Richard's behalf and, more or less singlehandedly, turned him into a celebrity. "I have undertaken a very peculiar man," she wrote in the early days of the marriage. He could have said the same: She traveled with 59 trunks, stayed for days in harems, and, meeting her wayward husband by chance in Venice, said hello and shook his hand. Jane Digby: "She smashed all the taboos of her time," Blanch writes. "Hers was a life lived entirely against the rules, reasons and warnings, and it was triumphantly happy." You may disagree --- Digby experienced the ultimate tragedy when her beloved six-year-old son slid down a balcony, miscalculated and fell to his death at her feet. But the rest? One fabulous love affair after another, culminating in the marriage to Sheik Abdul Medjuel El Mezrab. Jane was always a great horsewoman; now she mastered dromedaries, and often raced at the head of a Bedouin tribe. She prepared her husband's food, stood as he ate, washed his feet. And the outcome? She never became old. "Admiration and love," Blanch notes, "are the best

God what a beautiful collection of real life stories and ones about women that way up most braggart adventures of men!(and I say that as a guy folks!). I was in a state of awe & envy throughout, fell dangerously in love with 3 out of 4 of the characters and am left disappointed only by my own world in result. This book is highly detailed and revealing of ins and outs of secret minds, hearts, places, women, individuals, religion, history and in many ways is scarily telling about truths of all. Its a gorgeous voyage and I give this book away too often but its one of those you know? Men or women I dare you to call yourself the same by its end!

In 1954 Lesley Blanch, a hard-headed romantic, brought out her affectionate studies of four determined women who followed their dreams Eastward without regard for consequences. Even the demure Aimee, abducted and sold as a slave, doggedly created a life for herself within a Turkish seraglio. Recent muddled books on these women often verge on either the pornographic or the bathetic; Blanch's account was light-hearted; her humor, sympathy, and realism tempered her admiration. This was a best-seller in 1954, and is still immensely readable -- even if Blanch spoke more languages than some annoyed reviewers, and was not suitably PC for 2003. Her autobiography is excellent too.

I read this book years ago and sought it out much later, hoping it would be out of print and I could republish it. Even though I was disappointed to find it already in a new edition, you won't be disappointed!