He looked thunderstruck for a moment, and ejaculated: “A Byronic hero–! Oh, my God!”Īs disagreeable as the idea is to the character of Jasper Damerel himself, in Venetia, Heyer has crafted one of the finest examples of the Byronic hero that I have ever read.

“Only that if ever he meets you he will be quite green with jealousy, for you are precisely what he thinks he would like to be – even though you don’t study the picturesque in your attire.”

“Does he, indeed? And what has this puppy to say to anything?” He combs his hair into wild curls, knots silken handkerchiefs round his neck, and broods over the dark passions in his soul.” “He is Sir John Denny’s son and the top of his desire is to be mistaken for the Corsair. But what he lacks in traditionally heroic qualities, he makes up for with “swashbuckling arrogance” and the rather endearing habit of quoting fragments of plays and poetry, even when in the midst of ruthlessly kissing a trespassing Venetia.Īs a counterpoint to Damerel (and to poke a bit of fun at the archetype of the Byronic hero), Heyer created the character of Oswald, the nineteen-year-old son of the village squire, who sees in Lord Damerel the romantic figure that he himself aspires to be. Damerel womanizes, he drinks heavily, and he sneers far more than he smiles. Lord Jasper Damerel is tall, dark, and dissipated with a reputation so notorious that for years Venetia and her brother, Aubrey, have privately referred to him as “The Wicked Baron.” It is an apt title.

In Venetia, Georgette Heyer offers her own contribution to the legions of Byronic heroes that have been populating romantic literature ever since Lord Byron first took quill pen to paper.

Venetia heyer