Tess, an aspiring seamstress, thinks she’s had an incredibly lucky break when she is hired by famous designer Lady Lucile Duff Gordon to be a personal maid on the Titanic’s doomed voyage. Once on board, Tess catches the eye of two men, one a roughly-hewn but kind sailor and the other an enigmatic Chicago millionaire. But on the fourth night, disaster strikes.
Amidst the chaos and desperate urging of two very different suitors, Tess is one of the last people allowed on a lifeboat. Tess’s sailor also manages to survive unharmed, witness to Lady Duff Gordon’s questionable actions during the tragedy. Others—including the gallant Midwestern tycoon—are not so lucky.
On dry land, rumors about the survivors begin to circulate, and Lady Duff Gordon quickly becomes the subject of media scorn and later, the hearings on the Titanic. Set against a historical tragedy but told from a completely fresh angle, The Dressmaker is an atmospheric delight filled with all the period’s glitz and glamour, all the raw feelings of a national tragedy and all the contradictory emotions of young love.
Tess, a maid in England, wants noting more than to be a designer. So when she finds last-minute employment on the decks of the Titanic with one of the most respected haute-couture designers in the world, she can’t believe her good fortune. but when he ship goes down (come on, that’s not even a spoiler, for heaven’s sake), everyone learns that survival means fighting for yourself . . . and for some people, it doesn’t always mean fighting for what’s right.
Torn between desire and dignity — and of course, the affections of two men — Tess wants to remain an independent thinker, but at what cost?
I like Tess, I do. But sometimes it pains me that she runs off at the mouth. I love that she’s a strong, independent character. But at other times it kind of bothered me that she wanted to get into the game, so to speak, but didn’t want to play by the rules. And then I got annoyed with myself because that’s what we’re supposed to do, isn’t it? If we don’t like the rules, change them? I was also pleasantly surprised with the outcome of the love triangle, especially since I was ready to roll my eyes to high heaven at a predictable result. Alcott, I must admit, you got my number.
Alcott’s characters are great in that they’re truly human, often making poor judgements without true malice in heir hearts. Sometimes they’re abrupt, saying the wrong things at the wrong times. And really, who doesn’t love a bit o’ that? I wonder, then, why I’m not tied to them too strongly. At the end of the day, most of them didn’t stay with me, except The Unsinkable Molly Brown. Now that’s a woman who I want to read more about — and here’s where historical fiction can be tricksy, and why I love it ohsomuch. Many of the characters are real, and the line between fact and fiction is so faint, it’s often unrecognizable.
The prose isn’t always elegant, but it’s a solid story about tragedy on a large scale, missed opportunities and fresh starts.