Strands of Bronze and Gold

By Jane Nickerson

The Bluebeard fairy tale retold. . . .

When seventeen-year-old Sophia Petheram’s beloved father dies, she receives an unexpected letter. An invitation—on fine ivory paper, in bold black handwriting—from the mysterious Monsieur Bernard de Cressac, her godfather. With no money and fewer options, Sophie accepts, leaving her humble childhood home for the astonishingly lavish Wyndriven Abbey, in the heart of Mississippi.

Sophie has always longed for a comfortable life, and she finds herself both attracted to and shocked by the charm and easy manners of her overgenerous guardian. But as she begins to piece together the mystery of his past, it’s as if, thread by thread, a silken net is tightening around her. And as she gathers stories and catches whispers of his former wives—all with hair as red as her own—in the forgotten corners of the abbey, Sophie knows she’s trapped in the passion and danger of de Cressac’s intoxicating world.

Glowing strands of romance, mystery, and suspense are woven into this breathtaking debut—a thrilling retelling of the “Bluebeard” fairy tale.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Knopf Books for Young Readers
• Release date: Mar 12, 2013
• ISBN: 9780307976062

Book preview

You see, I had a fabulously wealthy godfather. That was why anything was possible for me.

I couldn’t remember a time when thoughts of him didn’t send a silvery little thrill through my body. He was a mystery and a magician and all my family’s hopes for the future rolled into one. Soon, when the carriage covered the last miles of our journey, I would meet him at last—my godfather and guardian, Monsieur Bernard de Cressac.

And his wife, of course, but I tended to forget about her.

The wildwood we had plunged into might easily have been the setting for the thief’s lair in The Robber Bridegroom, so tangled and murky and haunted it seemed. However—I smashed a mosquito against my neck and my own blood spurted out—fairy-tale forests would never have been this itchy or this sweltering. Perspiration dripped off my nose before my handkerchief could catch it. Inside my bonnet my curls were plastered to my head.

My godfather had referred to my hair as bronze in one of his letters when I was younger—a letter featuring a delightfully spun story about a princess with tresses the shade of my own, strands of bronze and gold.…

M. de Cressac’s last letter lay in my lap, its ivory paper limp from much handling. As always, at sight of the bold black handwriting, my chest tightened. A few months earlier, while my family had been going about the sad business of mourning the death of our father, M. de Cressac had been thinking of me, had been penning this invitation to his home, Wyndriven Abbey. Telling me he could not return to his solemn duties until he had asked me to come to him so I might sweeten the atmosphere of an old man’s dwelling with my companionship, youth, and beauty.

My brother Harry had snorted at that last part.

In that letter M. de Cressac called himself an old man. This conflicted with the image I had always held of the saint, soldier, explorer. The adventurer I had fantasized about had been old, of course, since he was a friend of my father’s—forty at least—but muscular and hearty. Well, shortly I would know everything. Shortly my godfather would take his place in my life as a real, solid person, rather than a misty figure of daydreams.

On and on we twisted and snaked beneath arched branches in dim green leaf light, swallowed whole by trees. My eyes grew tired of the sporadic, flickering patches of pale sunshine. It was getting late, but evidently in Mississippi, summer heat didn’t fade with the day.

Surely we’d get there soon.

I pulled down my bonnet’s crinkly mourning crape veil and shoved down my long, tight sleeves just as the trees thinned. We rounded a curve—and there it stood.

The magnificence of the building whooshed at me like a blast of icy wind. Wyndriven Abbey loomed in the center of spreading lawns and gardens and terraces as though it had stood in that spot for centuries. The drive widened as it approached the great edifice, which seemed more of a town than a house. It was toothed with crenellations and spiky with pinnacles and spires and turrets, the setting sun rosily staining the stone and lighting fires in a myriad of mullioned windows.

It was ridiculously vast and grim and terrifying. I loved it already.

As we drove down a gravel driveway edged with dark cedars, though, we passed an eyesore—an ancient, gnarled oak thrust among the cedars, pressing close overhead. It was shrouded with poison ivy (leaves of three, let them be!) and diseased with great misshapen nodules bulging on the trunk. A flock of crows burst out of the branches in a cacophony of cawing and beating wings.

It was not an ill omen.

The carriage pulled into a courtyard, and the very tall footman jumped down to help me alight. The coachman and the footman were both Africans, but they seemed elegantly European in their coats of resplendent sapphire velvet.

Surely I wasn’t actually shrinking as I climbed stone steps to massive, iron-shod doors. As per habit, I pinched my cheeks and bit my lips to bring on more color, forgetting that I was probably already flushed from the heat. The de Cressacs must be pleased with my appearance, or at least not appalled.

I tugged at the rope of an iron bell. The echoes of its clanging still sounded when the door was answered by another very young, very tall footman.

I am Miss Sophia Petheram, I said in a tight little voice, come to stay with the de Cressac family.

Yes, the footman said, opening the door wider and gesturing with a flourish for me to enter. You’re expected, Miss.

He spoke formally, but I must have looked frightened because he flashed a reassuring grin. He was young enough that he had not yet learned to be perfectly impassive.

In the lofty hall, whose arched and vaulted ceiling disappeared into shadows, candles already glittered in sconces and an immense candelabra blazed away on a center table. Beeswax tapers, they must be, from the clear, clean light. Of course gaslight would not yet have reached this place, so deep in the wilds. An expanse of black-and-white marble led to the grand staircase, wide and splendidly balustraded, seemingly hung in space. In the gloom the brilliant trompe l’œil decorations painted on the wall behind deceived me for a moment into thinking the staircase was a mere painting as well.

The footman’s eyes went past my shoulder. Mr. Ling, the butler, will take you to the master.

Outwardly I barely flinched when a figure glided forward from the wall just behind me.

I hope I did not startle you, said a deep, quiet voice.

My chest still thudded. Yes, definitely startled.

Mr. Ling was a Chinese man, the first I had ever met, wrinkled like a walnut shell and with a long gray beard, wearing a high-collared black brocade tunic and skirt. Something to tell my siblings. His eyes were incredibly weary. He bowed. I flipped back my veil and curtsied, not caring that one probably shouldn’t curtsy to servants. He was so very old, and his eyes …

Come this way, Miss Petheram, he said. He spoke excellent English. He led me through a long gallery with adjoining anterooms and salons. It was a kaleidoscope of dazzling opulence—gold leaf and stamped leather, rich tapestries and ornate paintings. Only I was out of place.

I fingered the hair brooch at my throat—brown strands from my father and coppery strands from my mother—plaited by my sister, Anne, into a heart shape.

On the journey I had whiled away the moments, hours, days by designing dresses in my mind. It was a weakness of mine that often I’d get so enmeshed in my musings I would forget reality. In my imaginary meeting with M. de Cressac, I had worn a gown of emerald green silk with jet beads embroidered in the skirt that clicked as I walked. I could hear it. I could feel it—the weight of the beads. I looked down. Surprise! Still ugly black bombazine. Never had I imagined I would meet my guardian swathed in a fabric so dark and dull it swallowed the light of every room.

By the time Mr. Ling threw back double doors, announcing my name, my mouth was dry as cotton and my hands sticky as they clutched my reticule.

My godfather rose from a chair, and we stood looking at each other. Everything in me seemed to spiral. This person standing before me was the most handsome man I had ever laid eyes upon.

His hair and beard were black with a few silver threads that gave them almost a bluish cast. His features were finely chiseled, with laugh lines around the eyes. To my delight (and dismay), he sported small silver hoops in his ears, like a pirate. I had always adored pirates. Tall and powerfully built, his buff linen coat fit his figure superbly and he carried himself with the natural grace of an athlete as he strode toward me.

I curtsied and he bowed slightly.

He took my small hands in his large ones and looked down into my face without speaking. His eyes were the color of honey.

Time to launch into the words I had prepared. I am pleased to meet you at last, sir. You are most kind to let me come and live in your beautiful home.

Enchanté, Mademoiselle. His tone was grave, but amusement flashed across his features at my polite little speech. He held my hand to his lips and kissed it, still watching my face.

My—my family sends their good wishes and compliments.

M. de Cressac laughed outright now. Do they indeed? After I have stolen away their sister? My little Sophia, at last you come to me. Let me see you better. He pushed back my bonnet so it hung by its ribbons from my neck.

I looked him bravely in the eye without blinking as he studied me.

Oui, he said softly. Yes. His hand smoothed my damp, rumpled hair. Do you know—no, how could you?—that the one time I saw you, you were a babe in your dear mother’s arms. She was ill, and died soon after, but still a beauty. She had a certain fey quality, as though she were not quite of this world, and I suspected you would look just like her when you were grown.

The story was that as a scrawny, squalling infant, red of face and hair (my brother Harry’s description), I had enchanted M. de Cressac, although no one could imagine why. It must have been my mother who did the enchanting.

And—and is Madame de Cressac at home? I asked.

I am, alas, a widower.

A widower. My father had said Madame de Cressac was a French lady. A lovely French lady. I didn’t know—I’m so sorry. Papa should … he should have told us.

He probably did not know. I am afraid I did not communicate with Martin much these last years.

As my godfather spoke, an elderly woman with an unfortunate nose and an immense silver tray shuffled into the room, a chatelaine jingling from her waist. She paused, regarding me with an anxious scrutiny.

Ah, M. de Cressac said, taking the tray from her hands, Mrs. Duckworth, allow me to present my goddaughter, Sophia Petheram. Sophia, Mrs. Duckworth is the housekeeper here and worth her weight in gold.

The lady beamed first at M. de Cressac and then at me. Her eyes nearly squinted shut. Her skin was doughy, with large pores. You’re very welcome, I’m sure. She had a British accent and her voice was pitched unusually high.

Mrs. Duckworth’s greatest pleasure is looking after people, M. de Cressac said. If there is anything you should want, let her know, and she will see to it that you get it. Unless, of course, I notice and give it to you first. He winked at me. Be assured we intend to spoil you.

That we do. The housekeeper nodded so enthusiastically that the gold brooch on her ample bosom bobbed. Now, Miss, sit you down and have a nice glass of cold lemonade and some refreshment, and then I will show you to your room.

I will accompany you both, M. de Cressac said. I want to see Sophia’s face when she first sets eyes on her bedchamber.

My last qualms were put to flight by this reception. Obviously Mrs. Duckworth was respectability itself, even if there was no longer a Madame de Cressac in the household.

The tea tray was mounded with lemon tarts, maids of honor, jam cake with burnt sugar glaze, coconut cake with divinity icing, cream buns, and cheesecakes. I sipped lemonade (mint was sprinkled on it, making it taste like grass, only in a pleasing way) and nibbled a cream bun, trying not to let cream ooze everywhere, while my godfather inquired about my journey.

Your carriage was wonderful, I said, swallowing quickly. I’ve never been in one as well sprung. I could sink back into the cushions and rest and even read without the swaying and bumping making me ill. And all the blooming magnolia trees in the town are lovely. So Southern-looking.

Yes, Chicataw, Mississippi, is indeed ‘Southern-looking.’ 

People nearly fell out of their windows staring as we drove by. They must have recognized your crest on the door.

Naturally they are eaten up with curiosity. Although I have been here twenty-five years, I am still the strange foreigner. We have few dealings in the town. He noticed me dab my forehead with my handkerchief. When first I came to the South, the heat was oppressive, but I am used to it now.

I’ll become used to it too, I said. You should have seen the suspicious character I rode with in the coach on the way to Memphis. As we drove, I thought up all sorts of stories explaining him. He wore a greatcoat and a hat pulled down over his ears. While the rest of us shoved up our sleeves and fanned ourselves with everything we could lay our hands on—newspapers and handkerchiefs and, of course, real fans if we could find ours—and took off anything we were allowed to take off, he only unfastened the top button of his coat. First his collar wilted, then his tie went crooked, and then he simply gave up and leaned back and slept, snoring. The sweat pooled in his ears and a fly crawled across his nose. It was dreadful to behold a human being dissolve before my very eyes.

Certainly it would be disturbing, my godfather said. Dear me, what dangerous and grueling adventures you have been through! And yet you appear charmingly unscathed.

He told about his estate. His voice melted around me like warm chocolate. He had just enough French accent to add to his charm. The main house was a real English abbey. One that housed medieval monks and nuns. Are you disappointed it is not a new house? That it is so … well used?

Oh, no! I love antique places, and this one is amazing. I used to pass the old section in Boston and feel envious. There was one house in particular that dated from the mid-1600s and it—it was intriguing. I compressed my lips to keep from launching into a long story. M. de Cressac had an odd and contradictory effect on me. I had never been a chatterbox, but the way he watched me, as if fascinated, stimulated me to keep talking on and on. However, it was not because he made me comfortable; indeed, a certain tension quivered in the air, and I sat bolt upright on the edge of my chair.

Bah! Boston! He dismissed the city with a flick of one long hand. Two hundred puny years is nothing. But I am happy you consider the abbey ‘amazing.’ Many were amazed when I brought it over here block by block and put it back together in this setting. I added wings designed to blend perfectly with the ancient.

Mrs. Duckworth chimed in often, her face wreathed with smiles.

As I answered their questions, I tried to absorb the—yes, amazing—room in which we sat. It was a witness to my godfather’s powers of enchantment that I hadn’t noticed it earlier. Three walls and the ceiling were covered with painted mythological figures, some of which seemed to stride out disconcertingly or peer at me over M. de Cressac’s shoulder.

My godfather ceased whatever he was saying in midsentence. I see you are admiring this room, Sophia. It is called the Heaven chamber. An apt name, is it not?

It’s glorious. Quite breathtaking, although …

Although what? In what way does my Heaven room displease you? I will have it changed immediately to be more to your taste.

I blushed. It’s only—oh, I’m so silly—it’s only that I wish more of the bodies were clothed.

Both my godfather and his housekeeper burst into peals of laughter.

"And I had so hoped to impress you with my lovely room. Foolish me. So you do not like all the rolls of rosy, naked flesh? M. de Cressac pinched my chin. Ah, mon ange, you are a delightful innocent. Would you have me paint a top hat and frock coat on Zeus? A dowager’s shawl and bonnet on Hera?"

I made myself join in with a weak giggle. Perhaps a riding habit on Diana?

Yes! Yes! M. de Cressac slapped his thigh. Soon I was really laughing. Everything was more comfortable once we had laughed together.

My godfather flung open the doors to my bedroom. I could feel his eyes on my face, gauging my reaction. I entered the room, prepared to appear delighted. There was no need for pretense. Obviously I was not to be treated as a pitiful, unwanted relation. I turned to M. de Cressac and tried to say the words Thank you, but no sound came out.

He nodded, smiling. He understood.

A world of underwater fantasy stretched before us. The bed, shaped like a gigantic opalescent seashell, was raised on a dais and swathed in a velvet coverlet the color of sea foam. Curtains of filmy green-blue, shot through with silver, hung about it, as well as mosquito netting that could be held down by posts in the footboard. The floor was of mottled blue marble, polished and slick as glass, while white-paneled walls held niches showcasing statues of dolphins and sea gods. Above the mantel, which was held up by alabaster mermaids, soared an undersea mosaic featuring starfish and seaweed done all in luminous blue, gray, and lavender mother-of-pearl, and in front of the fireplace squatted a massive round ottoman upholstered in crushed white velvet, tufted with pearls.

I had always craved luxury, so this room was a delight, although my Puritan ancestors might well be turning over in their graves. I dashed from one beautiful item to another. I could scarcely believe I was now the proud owner of a dressing table stocked with a marble-backed hand mirror, combs, and brushes, as well as a glittering array of faceted crystal bottles and jars and pots of ointments and powders and perfumes. What would my brother Harry think if he saw me using these artifices? He used to tease that I was vain because he caught me gazing at myself in the mirror once. Perhaps he was right—certainly it was lovely to be young and fortunate and have my godfather say I resembled my mother, who had been a beauty.

M. de Cressac might have been reading my mind because he said suddenly, "You favor your mother in more ways than hair and features. Your voice, the way you move, even your expression—as if you are thinking delightful, secret thoughts. I once called her mon rayon de soleil—a ray of sunshine."

How well did you know her?

Not as well as I wished.

Won’t you tell me more about her? No one would ever answer my questions satisfactorily.

Someday. When I am in the mood.

I lifted a pearl-handled pen shaped like a feather from the dainty lady’s desk. Every consideration had been prepared. You’re too good, sir! I cried. He was, indeed, too good, and I intended to enjoy every bit of it.

He beamed down from his imposing height. Allow me to be generous. I have lived too long without my … goddaughter. He hesitated over the last word, lightly brushing a stray wisp of hair from my cheek. Mrs. Duckworth will show you your powder closet and the wardrobes, which are stocked with a few ready-made frocks to make do until Madame Duclos can supply you with new ones.

Surely I have enough for right now. I felt I should protest at least a little. After all, I’m in mourning still for my father.

Ah, that is where I hope you will humor me. He clasped his hands together beneath his chin. Your father was a good friend to me. You know he was my attorney when I was in great trouble, and I mourn his death. However, I cannot bear to see you always drooping in black like a sad little starling. Will you not oblige me by coming out of mourning now? No one here will judge us for our breach of etiquette. You can honor your father in other ways. You must remember the happy times and tell me of them.

I suppose I can do that, I said doubtfully. If only my sister, Anne, were here to help me know if it were right. Or my eldest brother, Junius, who felt it his duty to instruct everyone in proper manners. I didn’t wish to be disrespectful to our father’s memory, but then again, M. de Cressac now stood in my father’s place, and surely what he’d asked, while not customary, was not actually inappropriate.

Of course you can. He nodded encouragement. You will join me for supper in the banquet hall in forty-five minutes. He strode from the room.

Mrs. Duckworth puffed and wheezed over to the paneling beside the fireplace and pressed a cunningly hidden spring. The panel whispered open, revealing an alcove lined with tall wardrobes. In the center stood a hip bath, shaped like a great shell. I should be Venus emerging from the sea on her half shell when I stood in it.

Suddenly exhaustion washed over me like a tidal wave. I yearned to take a bath right now and then go straight to bed. But I mustn’t be unsociable on my first evening.

The housekeeper was sympathetic. It’s all a great deal to take in, isn’t it? I tried to tell the master you might like a light supper in your room and then bed, but he would have none of it. You never can tell him anything when he’s excited about something. Many’s the time when he was small, I reminded him, ‘Now, Master Bernard, waited-for pleasures are all the more precious for the waiting,’ but he never would listen.

You were here with M. de Cressac when he was a child?

Not here. But yes. I was his nurse over in France. My father had been in the wars with Napoleon, and Mother and I followed him about, first to Portugal and then to Southern France, where the de Cressacs hired me. They wanted an English nurse, you see, so Master Bernard would grow up speaking both French and English.

How odd to think of this comfortable, simple woman, who seemed as if she should like nothing better than a cozy English cottage fireside, traipsing about in foreign places.

His English is perfect, I commented.

Yes, indeed. I took such pains with him. And we were that fond of each other that he kept me on as housekeeper in his French estate, and when he brought Wyndriven Abbey over—oh, the crazy ways of the very rich!—he insisted I come along. Ling and Achal, the master’s valet, and Alphonse, the cook, are the only other staff who have been with the master since France. Mr. Bass, the agent, came to him soon after. He’s a Southerner. All the rest of the servants were purchased here.

I winced at the word purchased, but she didn’t notice. An ornate little sofa stood at an angle near the bath. I lowered myself to it now and touched the seat beside me. Won’t you sit for a minute and tell me more about everything? I’ve waited so long to come here, and you must know all about my godfather and this place.

Mrs. Duckworth needed no further urging. She settled herself down comfortably and continued. Of course, I’m not familiar with the workers on the master’s plantation. Wyndriven Plantation, it’s called. ’Tis on the other side of Chicataw, and we haven’t much to do with them.

Master Bernard must have been a wonderful little boy for you to be so attached to him.

There followed a long description of Mrs. Duckworth’s affection for, and the wonders of, dear young Master Bernard, of his French home, his seat on a pony, and his skills at fencing.

I mused that she must have loved the little boy as my family loved me. I had been spoiled too, perhaps—not materially, except for my godfather’s gifts, but with an abundance of affection and attention partly because everyone wanted to make up for the fact that I never knew my mother.

Mrs. Duckworth was about to launch into a description of Master Bernard’s father’s seat on his horse and his accomplishments when she stopped in midsentence. Goodness me, we’d better hurry, hadn’t we? The master said forty-five minutes, and it must be nearly that now. We don’t want him waiting.

I wished she hadn’t stopped. I loved knowing things.

Mrs. Duckworth threw back the doors of one of the wardrobes. I had only a moment to gain an impression of a rainbow of dresses hanging inside before she pulled out one of muted rose plaid taffeta, trimmed with strips of black velvet.

Either I or one of the housemaids will help you dress, she said, until your French maid arrives.

Oh, please. I can dress myself. In spite of my long-held belief that I was destined for luxury, it was still hard to change the habits of my lifetime.

Dress yourself? What would Master Bernard say to that? And who would tighten your laces and button you in the back? And style your hair and look after your frocks and hose and jewelry and bags and fans? No, indeed. You’ll have your maid, and someone else will help till then. She was to have been here by now, but there were complications bringing her over from France.

Well, if I must have a lady’s maid, can’t I use one of the housemaids? You see, I speak little French, and an English speaker would be more comfortable for me.

As to that, you may talk to the master, but he has strong opinions about things, and I doubt it would do you any good.

I held on to the bedpost while she pulled my laces tight. I didn’t protest as I would have with Anne. Mrs. Duckworth secured my hoops and slipped the dress over my head. It was nearly sleeveless, with the merest wisp of ruffle over my shoulders, and a far lower décolletage than I had ever before worn. Of course, in high society, evening frocks were more formal than at home, and I’d grow accustomed to the top of my bosom showing and not feel so exposed, but

Reviews for Strands of Bronze and Gold

[jennybeast · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

It's Bluebeard. You know it's bluebeard going in, and you keep thinking that there will be some magic, or that the story will end sooner than it does or that it will be predictable -- but no -- Nickerson does an absolutely splendid, creepy job of stringing us along until the very end. And I love that her books feel magical, feel fairy tale, but really don't overtly have magical happenings -- they have atmospheric magic -- they have elements that people have believed in for centuries, but they don't suddenly bust out in sparkles or flying. Masterful retellings, and exquisitely rendered characters.

[mutantpudding · Rating: 1 out of 5 stars]

Racist, misogynistic crap pretending to be a historical YA novel. Theres gonna be spoilers in this review but none of yall should read this book anyways so whatever.

The book could technically be said to have an anti slavery message, but from a modern perspective that doesn't mean much when every POC in its pages is a stereotype designed to motivate or care for the vapid and poorly written protagonist. The writer doesnt respect them, and neither does the protagonist, who at one point sneaks out to spy on a community spiritual gathering after she has been told its a special time for black locals to be alone without white people. The story romanticizes the antebellum south and spends far too much time describing all the fancy blood money bought clothes all the rich people are wearing.

The end of the book tries to surprise and horrify the reader with the revelation that the antagonist is a monster, but you already know he's a monster in chapter one when its revealed he is a slave owner. Literally everything about him enforces this initial impression of awfulness so the protagonists infatuation with him is weird and disturbing to read about seeing as she is underage and he is 25 years her senior and her legal guardian... its straight up an abusive relationship, but the book paints it as a flirtatious romance for far longer than it has any reason to, and seems to seek sympathy for the man who turns out in the end to be a goddamn serial killer.

If for some reason you do check this book out, heads up that there is a graphic scene of sexual assault in the final chapters.

[ahappybooker · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Strands of Bronze and Gold was an okay read but with an excellent audio narration by Caitlin Prennace. I probably would have abandoned this story very early on because of the annoying main character had it not been for Prennace's wonderful storytelling. I also enjoyed the writing and flow of the story itself. I only knew the bare minimum about the Bluebeard legend before beginning this and I don't think I've really learned anything more of significance about that tale by reading this. Books like this make me face uncomfortable truths about myself, such as, maybe I'm just not a very nice person. The reason I come to this conclusion is that, when faced with a foolishly naive character, I usually root for the "villain" to kill her off. I find myself losing patience with characters who are so painfully oblivious that I think it is only fair that the much more interesting and complex villain get the pleasure of torturing and murdering her for my entertainment. And I'm often disappointed when it doesn't happen that way. Such was the case with Strands of Bronze and Gold.

I give the book 3 stars and the audio narrator 5 stars.

[emmyson · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

*many thanks to Random House & NetGalley for allowing early access to this title*

I've been wondering what I could possibly say that would add to the discussion about this book. To be honest, it's one I probably wouldn't have chosen for review if I hadn't received a galley. It almost feels like everything has been said. I'll give it a shot, but this may be short!

Before we proceed, you should know that this is a retelling of the Bluebeard fairy tale. It says so in the synopsis, so it's not at all spoilery to state that. You may also know that Bluebeard famously murdered his wives and kept their bodies hanging in a special room. If you want to know more about the tale, go to THIS site. It's a less gruesome version of the story.

It's immediately apparent who is playing the Bluebeard role in this retelling. Monsieur de Cressac is clearly the villain, though we're made to believe he's this fabulously wonderful rich man who will make all of Sophia's problems disappear. He starts displaying his possessive tendencies almost immediately, and I hated him from the beginning. I think I'd have hated him even if he hadn't been the obvious Bluebeard.

Then there's Sophia/Sophie/What's-her-face. She was so incredibly naive. She didn't see anything inherently wrong with going to live with an unmarried man without adequate chaperons. Keep in mind that this was a time period when that would bring the worst sort of scandals down on a girl. She seemed wishy-washy to me, never sure of her own mind or what she wanted. Obviously, she's going to do what she can to survive, but she seemed to give in all too quickly. Even at the end, she was still trying to make excuses for de Cressac. Girl, please! The man tries to kill you and you're giving him the benefit of the doubt?!

Ai yi yi.

The setting was cool. The Deep South during that time period intrigues me. I wish we could have seen more of the area outside Wyndriven Abbey, but I get why we were confined. That part made sense to me. I think the whole abbey part (I don't want to get into detail about the building itself, because it's a really cool detail that I don't want to spoil) added to the mystery and horror of the story.

All in all, a book that was pretty okay, but one that I expected more from. 3 Eiffel Towers



Content Advisory
Language: Mild
Sexuality: Mild
Violence: Heavy

[theinbetweenplace · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Actual rating: 2.5 stars

Strands of Bronze and Gold begins quite slowly, taking almost the entire first half of the book to create the creepy and dangerous atmosphere that surrounds the story of Bluebeard. While part of it can be attributed to the fact that Bernard doesn’t allow Sophia to venture out of the Abbey, nothing of import seems to happen until the quarter of the book. Before that point, we get to read descriptions of Sophia’s clothing, the exquisite foods that her godfather eats, and the Abbey itself over and over. This repetition and lack of action caused me to start skimming through the pages of description, pausing only to read the salient points. It wasn’t until the last ~50 pages that the action began to pick up, capturing my complete attention. The ending is tense, creepy and full of suspense, though a bit too short for my liking – if the rest of the book had the same pacing, it would have made for a more enjoyable read overall.

Bernard is easily the most intriguing aspect of this book, as he is such a dynamic character. There are hints about his true nature from the beginning of the book, though at first they’re overshadowed by the more positive aspects of his character: his good looks, his generosity, and his charming personality. There is a slow buildup to the revelation of his true character, which is kind of disturbing to behold, though readers with prior knowledge of the fairy tale will not be surprised by it.

I have mixed feelings about the protagonist, Sophia. Her naive, unassuming nature was to be expected, as she said herself that she had been fairly sheltered from the world since her father’s death. Her willingness to sacrifice her happiness to ensure that her family is provided for is admirable, though the inquisitive nature that I expected her to possess – after all, the Bluebeard story is a cautionary tale about the dangers of curiosity – is somewhat lacking.

While I like the Southern Gothic setting, there is a subplot involving the slavery and Underground Railroad that I was not particularly fond of. It’s never fully explored and seems merely to be a plot device to highlight how kind Sophia is for wanting to help the slaves.

Overall, despite all of its potential, Strands of Bronze and Gold was merely an “okay” read. If I hadn’t been familiar with the original fairy tale – which provided me with expectations of a creepy, dark, and horror-filled story – I probably would have enjoyed it a lot more.

[lilibrarian · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

After her father's death, Sophia is invited to the home of her wealthy godfather. She enjoys the luxury, even if her godfather does seem to be too familiar, and the slavery on the plantation makes her uncomfortable. Then she begins to discover hints about her godfather's wives, each of whom died, and all of whom had hair the same color as hers.

[foggidawn · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

When her father dies, 17-year-old Sophia Petherham goes to live with her mysterious godfather Bernard de Cressac at his enormous house in Mississippi. At Wyndriven Abbey, Sophia is given everything she could want -- a sharp contrast to the life of genteel poverty her family has become accustomed to. She also enjoys the doting attentions of M. de Cressac, a man not so old that his attentions are not flattering. Sophia wonders if she could be falling in love with her guardian. Occasional glimpses of his unstable and alarming temper soon make her question her brief infatuation, but despite her cooling affections, his possessive ardor soon becomes overbearing. Moreover, Wyndriven Abbey holds many secrets, most of them related to de Cressac's past. Sophia learns that she is not the first lovely redhead to live at the abbey, though all who came before her suffered tragic, mysterious fates. If Sophia cannot escape, she may be destined to follow in their footsteps.

This engrossing read is fascinating and creepy, and the setting is perfect for a Bluebeard retelling. The characterization is perfect, as the reader discovers de Cressac's true nature along with Sophia. The pacing is steady -- as befits a Southern Gothic, it never rushes, but neither does it drag. If you enjoy a story with great characters and atmosphere, with some suspense and creepy elements, I certainly recommend this book!

[liedermadchen · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

This book is utterly bewitching. The author weaves a tapestry of magic and madness that is irresistible. Reading this book, I came to really admire her subtlety. Very little actually happens during the first third of the book, yet I was never bored and I kept getting this shivery sense of anticipation that something awful was drawing near.

The story starts with Sophie. She's a trusting girl, full of excitement about going to live with her mysterious godfather. When she first arrives, it is like she has entered a magical world full of delightful things. She's just a little spoiled, but in such an innocent, young way that you can't hold it against her. Sophie is also a girl of firm opinions, and even her godfather's best efforts can't get her to fully compromise her beliefs.

Into this sparkling house of wonder and beauty creep dark little shadows, slowly stripping away the glamour and leaving only unvarnished truth behind. And the truth is scary as heck. I mean, really. The story goes straight into the realm of horror, gluing your eyes to the page and removing any chance of sleeping when you're done. This book was amazing, but not for the faint of heart.

I would recommend this book for lovers of Gothic romance, horror and dark fairytales. If you're looking for an easy happily-ever-after, this is not the book for you.

I received an ARC of this book from Random Buzzers as part of their Ambuzzador program in exchange for a fair and honest review.

[bookspot · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

There are some great YA novels out this winter/spring based on old novels or fairy tales. First was The Madmam's Daughter inspired by HG Wells' The Island of Dr Moreau and now there's Strands of Bronze and Gold, a retelling of the Bluebeard fairy tale.

It's always fun to read novels that are based on or inspired by or retellings of stories we already know but I loved that I wasn't already familiar with either of these tales. I loved not knowing what was going to come with each turn of the page.

Jane Nickerson has chosen a fantastic setting for Strands of Bronze and Gold. In 1855 after the death of her father, Sophia Pertheram leaves behind Boston and her siblings for a new life in Mississippi. Monsieur Bernard de Cressac, her godfather, has invited her to live with him at Wyndriven Abbey. Sophie goes expecting a life of luxury with de Cressac and his fine French wife.

What greets her is much different.

Though she is living a life much more luxurious than she could have hoped, the rest of life with her guardian is quite different than she expected. Isolated from the outside world, Sophia starts to long for someone other than de Cressac, even as his attention turn towards her. Attentions she's not sure she wants . . . and not sure she doesn't.

Then there's the matter of his past wives having red hair, red hair just like her.


Both the time in which Strands of Bronze and Gold as well as the geographical location add some quite interesting bits to the story. Sophia is a girl -- a young, unmarried young woman -- which limits the options available to her with those she deals with every day as well as with the world at large. There are times in the novel when, as a reader, you want Sophia to do something more, to take some other action but given the time -- and the location -- it's not feasible.

Slavery is also a part of the story. Not only does it, logically, bring characters into the story but it also allows readers to see traits of some characters we might not otherwise see. How different characters feel about slavery -- and the people themselves -- as well as the conflicts it creates among different characters is a great addition to the story and very fitting. With Sophia being from Boston and the story set in Mississippi, it works very well.

The tension in this story is quite incredible. As mentioned, you do want Sophia to do something at times but it's also understandable why she is not.That she can't and that so many things keep her so isolated and keep seeming to cage her in more and more, only serve to amp up the suspense. The mystery of what's going to happen, where things will go for her, how she'll manage, is all great.

Along with that mystery and suspense, the relationships she builds with some fairly unlikely characters make the story even more enjoyable, add some hope for her, but also some worry, as well. Worry that something may happen to them for it.

It was a bit odd having Sophia always talking of her 'godfather,' especially as certain parts of the story developed, only because I kept reading it as grandfather. Aside form that, however, there wasn't much at all I didn't just love about this one. It didn't grab me right away but after that, it just kept on going and I had to know how it would all turn out!

(egalley received via NetGalley from publisher for review)

[capnrandm · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Review courtesy of All Things Urban Fantasy.
allthingsuf.com

My initial response to STRANDS OF BRONZE AND GOLD was an up and down of emotions. I was excited to read this variation of the Bluebeard tale, made new by featuring Bluebeard’s goddaughter rather than a wife. Then I was turned off by my introduction to the heroine, whose admiration for her sight-unseen godfather had strong romantic tones, even when she thinks he is married. Soon I realized each cringe and naive comment built the foundation of the narrative, more ghost story than fairy tale, and I was again swept away.

I love a good Jane/ Rochester romance, but the emphasis on physical attraction between godfather and goddaughter was overt enough to tip from titillation to distaste before the first chapter was over. I sunk deep into the creeping menace of the story. The author created a thick mist of threat and mystery, making it impossible to tell exactly where the path head was leading. Subtle eddies of the supernatural swirled amidst plausible explications, and I found myself hoarding details, trying to fill in the background of the mysterious M. Bernard. The line between supernatural and inexplicable is a wavering boundary in this book, and I enjoyed sifting through clues to piece together both past and present.

Though the foundation of the story was meticulously well crafted, layering eccentricity to manipulation to cruelty, the last third of the story slowed down significantly for me. Once the fog began to clear, once I could see Sophia’s happily ever after on the horizon, I was more impatient for her to get there than caught up in the climactic ending. Furthermore, from rape to slavery to domestic abuse, STRANDS OF BRONZE AND GOLD deals with many issues that may or may not impede a reader’s ability to immerse themselves in this ghost story. If you make it through the mine field of triggers, however, STRANDS OF BRONZE AND GOLD is a chilling, horrifyingly realistic retelling of the Bluebeard fairy tale and a scary little book to curl up with some evening.

Sexual Content: Kissing, attempted rape, references to rape.

[liviania_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Sophia Petheram grew up poor but happy with her three siblings. When their father dies, she is invited to live with her wealthy godfather Monsieur Bernard de Cressac. Thus she goes to live in Mississippi, far from her home in the North, to live with a man she only knew through his extravagant gifts.

Sophie is initially charmed by Monsieur Bernard, who offers her a life of luxury and indolence. She loves the pretty dresses and excellent food. However, there is a darkness lurking in Wyndriven Abbey. There are Monsieur Bernard's many former wives - all redheads like Sophie. There's his need for control and his temper. There are the slaves, something the daughter of an abolitionist finds intolerable. Eventually, Sophie cannot ignore her instincts and she begins to investigate Monsieur Bernard's secrets and assert her own personality.

At first, STRANDS OF BRONZE AND GOLD didn't have much to interest me aside from the setting. I love the fairytale "Bluebeard," but it seemed like the novel was moving so slow. I loved the descriptions of Sophie's new world and how well Jan Nickerson's prose evoked the oppressive heat of Mississippi, but it felt like nothing was happening. When a visitor comes to town and helps Sophie find her resolve, STRANDS OF BRONZE AND GOLD clicked into place for me. Suddenly, the novel was working. Shortly after that moment, I fell completely in love with STRANDS OF BRONZE AND GOLD when something happens to make Sophie realize the difference between idly crushing on Monsieur Bernard and having him return her affections. It's a creepy, quiet evil in a novel full of more theatric, Gothic evils.

I cannot praise the setting enough. Nickerson manages to make the pre-Civil War South fairytale romantic and dreamy, but the sort of romance that has edges and dreams that turn to nightmares. Fitting, since "Bluebeard" is one of the most menacing fairytales I've ever heard. Nickerson does not pave over history to make the story work, but instead weaves the two together. Sophie would free all the slaves escape if she could, but she's mostly ineffectual. She's unfamiliar with the area, has no real power at Wyndriven Abbey, and there's no reason for anyone to trust her when she claims to want to help. And her efforts for one individual often make things worse for others.

For those familiar with "Bluebeard," STRANDS OF BRONZE AND GOLD will hold few surprises. Yet it's a story that always has the power to startle because it's so macabre. And Nickerson does a wonderful job of bringing something new to the tale. Sophie is not innocently curious, but haunted by her glimpses of Monsieur Bernard's evil and her strange kinship with his wives.

I'm eager to see Nickerson complete her trilogy and transform more fairytales. STRANDS OF BRONZE AND GOLD will appeal to fans of Sarah Rees Brennan's UNSPOKEN and Donna Jo Napoli's BREATH.

[caitiem3 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

The first thing that drew me to this book was the cover and then when I realized it was a retelling of the Bluebeard tale from the Brothers Grimm there was no stopping me from devouring this one. This tale, like many of the Grimm tales, is more dark, gritty mystery and less princess story. We begin the novel with the newly orphaned Sophie who leaves her siblings behind to move in with her godfather M.Bernard. M.Bernard is a widower who has no qualms about lavishing Sophie with ridiculously expensive and Sophie is quite content to have these gifts rained down upon her. Soon, though, M.Bernard begins to show his true colors and becomes possessive, jealous, and often times scary. As M.Bernard’s personality begins to unfold so does the mystery in the novel until we are left on the edge of our seats wondering what is going to happen next.
The setting of this novel was scrumptious. Nickerson stayed true to the time period and location to the point where I myself could feel the heat of July in the south. The way she described the abbey made the rambling old building come alive for me. The characters acted true to time period and acknowledge when what their or another character’s actions were considered a faux pas.
I am not ashamed to admit that my favorite characters in this novel were the devilish M.Bernard and the sweet, earnest Gideon. M.Bernard was both charming and terrifying and I never knew exactly how I felt about it, which just made me want to read more about him. Gideon was a sweetheart and a true southern gentleman who cared more about making sure Sophie’s reputation was left untarnished than his own feelings. There was no love triangle as Sophie was aware of her own feelings for both men at different times in the novel. Another fun facet of the novel was the involvement of the characters’ opinions on slavery and Gideon’s involvement in the Underground Railroad.
Overall Strands of Bronze and Gold was a fun retelling that had a great setting, intriguing characters, and random fun surprises.

[susiebookworm · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I loved, loved, loved the antebellum Southern gothic setting of Strands of Bronze and Gold. It's a rather romantic (in the sense of Romanticism) view of what's portrayed as a decadent, patriarchal Southern aristocracy, but Nickerson carries out this portrayal tastefully rather than sensationally. The society she paints seems realistic, not the showy descriptions of wealth and upright heroines outspokenly moralizing against slavery I've often run into before in historical fiction. And the gothic feel? "Bluebeard" is one of my favorite fairy tales for its intrigue and gruesomeness, and Strands of Bronze and Gold certainly lives up to this with its decaying abbey-turned-plantation, ghosts, and seclusion. The creepy-crawlies just keep running down your back as you begin to realize along with Sophia just what she's tangled up with.

The gothicness definitely kept me fascinated, compulsively reading as I waited to see what the plot had in store. The ending wasn't much of a shocker if you are familiar with the original tale, but it was still gripping. Yet, parts of the novel seemed choppy. Some characters seemed shallow and underwent major changes without much development. There was just this certain feeling of a lack of complete cohesiveness. I highly recommend Strands of Bronze and Gold as a nice read for a rainy day (which will provide great atmosphere!) - it's an engrossing book for the time you're reading, but it didn't leave me with much afterwards. Breeze through, enjoy, and move on.

[sszkutak_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Background: Seventeen year old Sophia is used to being spoiled by her mysterious godfather, Monsieur Bernard de Cressac. However when her father passes away she is given an offer she cannot refuse, to live with her godfather in his very lavish estate in Mississippi. He is a very mysterious and dark man and Sophia soon learns that her godfather may have more secrets than she bargained for. Nickerson creates a beautiful and exciting retelling of the famous tale of 'Bluebeard'.

Review: I received this book in various formats, which was great. I could experience it in a variety of media formats. I started with an e-book, then received ARCs and an audiobook. I dabbled in all of them. I also have a giveaway on the blog for one of my ARCs.

I really enjoyed this story and had to put it down only to try to slow down my reading, I didn't want to miss anything or take any detail for granted.

The plot is full of suspense, intermingled with spine chilling realizations and blood curdling non-gentlemanly actions. I found that Jane Nickerson's writing was a delight. It was beautifully composed and the historical elements only added to the ambiance of the plot.

Sophia, our heroine, is a bit naive and stubborn, but soon realizes her folly and tries to assert herself within the household of M. de Cressac. Sadly, she finds out very horrible things about her, now, captor.

The whole time there is a feeling of disgust with everything M. de Cressac does and it is NOT wrong to feel that way. I was not disappointed with his horrific character or the part he played, only that he did send shivers up my spine on many occasions.

This may be a slow moving book for some, most of the suspense is in emotions and psychological rather than running, chasing, and such. I did not feel this way but was a little taken aback by the time it took to get to the plots apex, and when it finally did, I felt the book was immediately over...

Overall I felt this was a beautiful retelling of a horrifying fairy tale.

[pattylouise_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Strands Of Bronze And Gold
By
Jane Nickerson

My "in a nutshell" summary...

Sophia goes to live with her "godfather" who may just be Bluebeard the Pirate.

My thoughts after reading this book...

I read most of this book rather breathlessly. It just could not be helped. It involved a sort of evil diabolical older man...a quite wealthy older man...and his red haired goddaughter. Bernard has a "thing" shall we say for lovely red haired women. He marries them and invariably they seem to have miserable lives with him and unhappy endings. Sophia comes to live with him thinking that she is his goddaughter but dastardly Bernard has other plans for her. He has a very dark and evil side. And it doesn't help that he always smells like meat...cooked rotten meat. Unfortunately Sophia is sort of trapped. He is wealthy, he can help her family and she's resigned to her fate...until his evil side grows and grows and he begins destroying everything she cares about.

What I loved about this book...

It's such a delight to read all of the twists ad turns in this book which is basically a battle between good and evil...a delightful edge of your seat battle.

What I did not love...

Handsome Bernard...the man you love to hate...he was evil, possessive, cruel and he ate eels! His attempts to seduce Sophia were such fun to read. His cruel intentions and his relationships with others masked his evilness. He was truly a creepy villain while Sophia was the bright eyed innocent virginal heroine.

Final thoughts...

This book was so good. I loved it. It is a delightful dark tale of a big bad man meeting a sweet innocent young girl...the outcome is phenomenal.

[pnh002 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Before reading this I had not heard of the Bluebeard fairy tale. I looked it up first just to see what I was getting myself into and holy moley, I was shocked. When I found out all the betrayal and deceit and mystery behind it, I KNEW I had to read it. And let me tell you, I definitely enjoyed it.
Sophie leaves her other family members behind when her father dies to go and live with her godfather Monsieur Bernard de Cressac to help keep their costs down. When she arrives things are very much different from her old home. But there is a mysterious air about Wyndriven Abbey and as it unfolds, things start to get more and more weird. Then out of nowhere, the mystery finally unfolds and Sophie is left in a compromising position.
For the story to be a retelling, it did not feel like it. For me not having read it before, it really felt like I was reading the original story. The story flowed so smoothly it didn't feel like a retelling. I was also very impressed with the writing of Nickerson. It gave off so much back story without it feeling like an info dump. This was so amazing because the book the background of the slaves, Sophie, and towards the end De Cressac. The only thing I'd like to know is how the sequel will come into play. The ending of this one pretty much sums up the whole story...
Sophie, the main character, grows so much throughout the novel. When she first gets there she seemed a little naiieve and scared to me. She believed anything de Cressac said. As De Cressac's true identity comes to light, Sophie grows by trying her hardest to stay safe. Her character grows stronger as the novel goes on.
Overall this was a wonderful retelling with a great main character and even more amazing writing. This novel is sure to keep and hold your interest and leave you wanting more.

[literaryvalerie · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Strands of Bronze and Gold is a re-imagined tale of Bluebeard and his doomed wives. It is set in the Civil War period in Mississippi. This is a very sinister tale filled with horror, romance, hard choices, and a coming of age plot that is realistic and satisfying to the reader.

Young Sophia who longs for a better life is sent to live with her godfather Monsieur Bernard de Cressac at his Abby home in Mississippi after the death of her father. Her family is now penniless and her future is bleak. With no other option she accepts her godfather's invitation to live with him at his Abby. There she is spoiled and pampered beyond her wildest dreams after she arrives. While Monsieur Bernard is a doting father figure, his wild tastes and lavish almost deprived lifestyle start to wear down Sophia's defenses. As he encourages her to abandon her strict beliefs and embrace a wilder existence she begins to unravel the story behind his many tragic marriages. But as she pieces together her godfathers mysterious past she begins to realize that she is trapped in a a dangerous net that might end her life.

This story is filled with passion, mystery, horror and intrigue. It took me a bit to really enjoy the story. At first I feared that it would slip into the more romantically deprived story line that some other versions have ventured. However, while there are some innuendos and devious behavior on the part of Bernard and other characters it doesn't cross the line. As the story picks up and Sophia discovers more about Bernard's past I could hardly put the book down. It was a good read and one that I would recommend.

The good-
I liked that it had a very complex plot with difficult choices for the main character. She wasn't just blindsided by the villains deception. The escalating abuse was realistic and well written. It didn't just pop up out of no where. Bernard's madness was triggered by events in his earlier life.
I also liked the additional slavery element and how Sophia discovers her morality and revulsion for the practice and her godfathers treatment of his servants. The underground railroad addition was a nice touch and did not detract from the main story.

The bad-
It took me a while to like Sophia. The fact that she was portrayed as very sheltered was a bit over the top at first. At least the author fixed that aspect further along in the book. Lastly, the ending came rather quickly for me. It wasn't horrible but I felt that another chapter would have fleshed it out better.

Rating- I give this 4 out of 5 stars. It is a very creative and imaginative story. The horror is not overdone or too graphic for more sensitive readers. The only reason it doesn't get a five is because the main character is hard to like for the first quarter of the book and the ending is rather short. Other than that I would definitely recommend this to teens looking for a fairy tale book without all the princess fluff.

[arlenadean · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Author: Jane Nickerson
Published By: Random House Children's Books
Age Recommended: YA
Reviewed By: Arlena Dean
Book Blog For:GMTA
Rating: 4

Review:

"Strands of Bronze and Gold" by Jane Nickerson was a very good read for the YA that was of a historical fiction with bits of horror, love and romance.This author gave us a well written dialog that used a wonderful description with such detail for a easy read. This plot with will keep you on the edge of your seat till the end offering a dramatic ending. The setting of the novel was from the Civil War period set in the Mississippi area. Young Sophia agrees to join her godfather... Monsieur Bernard de Cressac at his Wyndriven Abby estate in Missisippi. From there this story takes off...to where you will find some fanastic descriptions...the "expensive gifts and moments of flattery and indulgence don't make up for the cruelty of the rest of the time, the kindness and respect are more important than superficial charm." Parts that I did not like was the 'handling of race and slavery'....It was in the 19th century and slavery was part of their life... Now, this is the time that I say you must pick up the read "Strands of Bronze and Gold" to get all they how, why, what and who of the well written novel. I will say at this point that this is the story of the 'Bluebeard' Fairy Tale. This is the retelling of it to another degree. Be ready for some glimpsing of ghost issues and even more interesting twists. Sophie may have started out 'naive sweet girl' but in the end will soon 'grow up' to not only protect herself but those she had now grown to care about at this Abbey and and her own
family.

"Strands of Bronze of Gold' will keep you capivated in the read and I would recommend to anyone who love 'Fairy Tales.'