The admiral has bought a deceased roue's hedonistic mansion for its view of the ocean. He is planning to burn the roue's library of pornographic works. I am trying to remember my cultural relativism and that I would not personally be all that concerned about saving some dead dude's vintage Playboys for posterity unless I could sell them on eBay, but the burning of books may have turned me against this book for life.
... Okay, not as terrible as Beau Crusoe, not as good as her best. I am afraid I have gone off her.
Treatment of disability: admiral lost a hand about twenty-five years ago, it comes up in terms of practicalities and when he's wondering about his new wife noticing it, is generally a non-issue. I didn't quite like the treatment of Sally's previous husband's suicide, but I can attribute some of the sketchiness to character rather than author.
I flinched when Sally spoke of writing down her Jewish neighbor's stories, but I probably wouldn't have considered it appropriative or the character condescending if I were more in tune with the work. Ending v. rushed. Not sure a Rothschild cousin would be getting a wife from a shtetl, though.