{"id":73211,"date":"2014-06-26T15:30:12","date_gmt":"2014-06-26T19:30:12","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/?p=73211"},"modified":"2014-06-27T17:15:45","modified_gmt":"2014-06-27T21:15:45","slug":"love-story","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2014\/06\/26\/love-story\/","title":{"rendered":"Love Story"},"content":{"rendered":"
\"6a00e54ef13a4f8834019aff3a4089970c\"<\/a>

From the cover of Barbara Cartland\u2019s The Romance of Food<\/i>.<\/p><\/div>\n

\n

\u201cThe hallmark of Camp is the spirit of extravagance.\u201d \u2014Susan Sontag, \u201cNotes on \u2018Camp\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

Too much camp is bad for the soul. It\u2019s unwholesome, lacking in spiritual nourishment\u2014like eating only processed foods. Irony is no substitute for feeling, detachment no replacement for intellectual engagement: enough camp begins to eat away at both. After a steady diet of midcentury educational films, salacious memoirs, and Florence Foster Jenkins recordings, one begins to feel oneself morphing into a sort of soulless Lord Henry Wotton, and the only remedy is beauty, spareness, and fresh air. Part of the problem is that earnest camp is heartbreaking; in order not to cry, one needs to put up defenses, and this is in itself exhausting.<\/p>\n

Periodically, I need to go on cleanses. In these virtuous moods, I resolve to listen to only the finest music, read the best books, watch films worthy of the term. I banish my collection of 1930s Love Story<\/em> magazines. I shun the \u201cHigh Gruck and Outsider Art\u201d playlist on my Spotify account. The words \u201cRuss Meyer\u201d are not to be mentioned in my hearing.<\/p>\n

The problem is that in the midst of this, your copy of Barbara Cartland: The Romance of Food <\/em>arrives in the mail from England and tempts you like a rosy-hued she-devil. And then it follows you everywhere, with the promise of easy laughs and garish pictures and oddity nonpareil. You can hide it in the closet. You can stick it under the kitchen counter with the other cookbooks. Still you hear its siren song, which is sort of quavery and backed by a lot of lush strings<\/a>. <\/p>\n

Even fourteen years after her death, Barbara Cartland remains one of the queens of camp. Beyond the 700+ fade-to-black historical romances, the feud with Princess Diana, the albums, the pink-themed parties, the husbands, the <\/a>makeup<\/a>, <\/em>there was the legend. Barbara Cartland believed her own press. She was fully committed to her character. \u201cI\u2019m always the heroine, I\u2019m always the virgin,\u201d she blithely tells an interviewer<\/a>\u2014perhaps aware that it\u2019s grotesque, but not caring. And this, of course, was the secret of her power.<\/p>\n

Well, that and\u2014aptly enough\u2014nutrition. The cookbook talks a lot about that. As Cartland asserts in the \u201cBreakfast\u201d section, \u201cI believe that because it is impossible to eat a really balanced diet or to get absolutely pure food which is not polluted with chemicals, one has to take it in the form of vitamin pills and capsules. The vitamins I recommend for most people are \u2026\u201d And then she lists a bunch of vitamins. (\u201cVitamin E is the nearest thing we have to life and is absolutely essential as it carries oxygen to all parts of the body.\u201d)<\/p>\n

Of course, the book has a lot of the sort of thing one would expect: elaborate, French-inflected menus courtesy of her chef, name-dropping, anecdotes, talk of love.<\/p>\n

\n

The fifth Duke of Sutherland was one of the best looking men I have ever seen. Six-foot-three, with fair hair and vivid blue eyes, he looked like a Viking. Every morning at the fairytale Dunrobin Castle, which I have made the background for many of my novels, he ate his porridge from a wooden bowl edged with silver, which his Nanny had given him.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

On \u201cKidneys in Cream\u201d:<\/p>\n

\n

This is a rich, exotic dish which is full of goodness besides being an aid to virility. Some of the youngest-looking men on the screen and stage declare they owe their youthful appearance to a large consumption of liver and kidneys.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

On \u201cAsparagus Tart\u201d:<\/p>\n

\n

Curry has always been used as a love stimulant and makes me think of blossoms in sleek dark hair and fragrances of spices coming from an Indian bazaar. I once ate a curry cooked by a beautiful Maharani who had spent eight hours preparing it. It was superb.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

There are unappetizingly styled pictures replete with china cupids and not a few pink carnations. There are line drawings of languishing maidens and ardent suitors and, yes, many things are heart-shaped. It is exactly what one might expect of a Barbara Cartland cookbook: in other words, making fun of it is like shooting fish in a barrel.<\/p>\n

After I had read it cover to cover\u2014and I did, of course\u2014I noticed something I hadn\u2019t at first: an inscription on the flyleaf. \u201cDearest Larry,\u201d someone has written in a clear, feminine script. \u201cMay you find as much enjoyment in the receiving as I have found in the giving! Happy Father\u2019s Day! Love always from the one who gave you the \u2018reasons\u2019 for today\u2019s celebration! B.\u201d<\/p>\n

The exclamation marks, by the way, all have little hearts under them instead of dots.<\/p>\n

Here is what Cartland writes in her introduction, which is decorated with a drawing of some long-stemmed roses: \u201cJust as with the Greeks, Romans, the Arabs and the Hindus, some recipes may seem ludicrous, others are successfully stimulating to love and most important, highly nutritious!\u201d<\/p>\n

Maybe she\u2019s right after all.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

\u201cThe hallmark of Camp is the spirit of extravagance.\u201d \u2014Susan Sontag, \u201cNotes on \u2018Camp\u2019\u201d Too much camp is bad for the soul. It\u2019s unwholesome, lacking in spiritual nourishment\u2014like eating only processed foods. Irony is no substitute for feeling, detachment no replacement for intellectual engagement: enough camp begins to eat away at both. After a steady […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":178,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[13115],"tags":[4995,3922,64,512,14428],"class_list":["post-73211","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-our-daily-correspondent","tag-barbara-cartland","tag-camp","tag-cookbooks","tag-irony","tag-the-romance-of-food"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\nLove Story by Sadie Stein<\/title>\n<meta name=\"description\" content=\"June 26, 2014 \u2013 \u201cThe hallmark of Camp is the spirit of extravagance.\u201d \u2014Susan Sontag, \u201cNotes on \u2018Camp\u2019\u201d Too much camp is bad for the soul. 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