*/***** (1/5)
"There was life, and there was death. Living was the harder, stronger choice, and she wanted to live even if she could not have Karim."
Granted, THE LOVE SLAVE ends on a happy note, but the journey to arrive at that happily-ever-after proved nothing short of torturous. In THE LOVE SLAVE (1995), author Bertrice Small chronicles the sexual triumphs of beautiful Zaynab (Scottish-born Regan MacDuff) in 10th-century Moorish Spain and northwest Africa. Initially, what piqued my curiosity for this novel was a strong heroine not melting at every kiss and not cooing at every touch. Definitely, Zaynab is a strong heroine. I was also interested in the different locale for this historical with middle-eastern lavish settings, lavish settings admirably staged. I also found the grand scope of the novel intriguing in this 449-page superior paperback. Finally, Bertrice Small's erotic love scenes will assuredly engage the interest of any romance fan.
Unfortunately too many things didn't work for me. First, our libidinous heroine Zaynab is 13-14 when she undergoes extensive tutelage in the erotic, eastern arts. I realize this is the 10th century, but a 13 year-old going at it with a 28 year-old? I thought Bertrice Small should have taken some liberties with Zaynab's age. Although the book was at times unputdownable, the pacing of the story crumbles in a lot of places too. The pacing and story especially dulls and chokes in places detailing Zaynab's love scenes with men other than the hero. I understand the hero Karim is honorable, but he seemed too amenable to relinquish the heroine he loves. Twice, he lets her go *without putting up a fight*, once in the beginning and later towards the end. Though a couple of rape scenes in the beginning of the book could have been worse, I found the scenes of brutality and fornication at the villain Ali Hassan's camp towards the end and the retribution following it, overly gratuitous. Certainly, THE LOVE SLAVE doesn't hold back on its ruthless savagery. Finally, THE LOVE SLAVE contrivedly effected too many deaths at the end to manufacture its happily-ever-after and to make Karim a Prince. And it's true, the "hero" Karim sparingly appears in this novel.
You'll definitely have liberal sensibilities to enjoy THE LOVE SLAVE, as the "romance" didn't seem like a romance and the "hero" didn't seem like a hero. I keep saying I'd like markedly different romance stories, but maybe I'm a hypocrite, I don't know.
I constantly wondered whether the elixir concubines and mistresses quaff daily to prevent childbirth in THE LOVE SLAVE was really as effective as this book implies. I mean our heroine Zaynab is very active with 3 different men and she's enceinte just once over these years (and that was the time when she wasn't taking the elixir)! The elixir seemed one-hundred percent, efficaciously fault-proof, what's in it and how is it different from birth control pills?
Zaynab's rapacious carnal appetite no matter the man drained the novel's "romance" too quickly. I understand she's making the best of her circumstances and being strong, but c'mon the book even described her arousal by a brutal rapist and murderer at the very end. Before, Zaynab desires to lie with an esteemed physician just to sate her lust. Undoubtedly, this is the only "romance" novel I've read where one of the last love scenes isn't between the hero and heroine but in fact a threesome involving the heroine and 2 other people not including the hero! Empty...
On the plus side, the first part of the book did manage to hook and reel me in. In the first part, the Passion Master Karim training the apt Love Slave Zaynab was equal parts sizzling and fun. For example, the scene where Zaynab suspiciously dumps cold water on an aroused Karim after bathing him was fun. And I had to find out what happens after that first part, even as the book painfully gorged on graphic accounts of Zaynab's sexual conquests with prominent men other than the hero. The final nail in the coffin comes at the end, a copulation with the villain Ali Hassan.
Yep, the ugh/*wince*/ok-next-page/aaah-let's-end-this moments appeared in droves after the first part. I don't know, maybe men and women may find this book interesting strictly in the carnal sense. But there's other erotic books out there without the cringing revulsion THE LOVE SLAVE evinces.
The Story, possible SPOILERS.
Twin Regan MacDuff was supposed to be a boy. Her bitter mother Sorcha weaves an intricate conspiracy of vengeance on the Fergusons and the Ferguson laird who killed Sorcha's husband and Regan's father. Born second behind her twin sister Gruoch, Regan never knows anyone's love as her mother preserves all of her affections for her twin Gruoch. Ever since they were young, the sisters know that Gruoch will marry the Ferguson heir while Regan will head to the convent after Gruoch is bedded (Regan hanging around as back-up). The twins grow into beauties and on Gruoch's wedding night, Sorcha cruelly plays on Regan's affection for her twin sister to make Regan switch places with Gruoch on Gruoch's wedding night. Sorcha's grand vengeance has Gruoch impregnated from another MacDuff prior to the wedding while Regan sacrifices her virginity to the Ferguson heir.
Satisfied of Gruoch's virginity (really Regan at the time) and Gruoch's potential child, the Fergusons then ship off Regan over to a convent run by a corrupt nun dealing in female slaves. Eventually, Regan finds herself in the services of Moorish Captain Karim al Malina, one of the last Passion Masters who trains Love Slaves. Love Slaves are a treasured commodity in Moorish culture as the Passion Masters who train them are few and far in between. Karim gives Regan a new name for the new culture and for the majority of the novel, she's referred to as Zaynab, or most beautiful one. Karim accepts the commission to train Zaynab, and agrees to present a trained Zaynab to the Caliph of the Moors Abd-al Rahma as a new addition to his harem already consisting of hundreds of concubines. If Zaynab manages to win favor and become the caliph's favorite (which she does in no time), it will bring great honor to Karim and the man who entrusts Zaynab to Karim, Donal Righ. After an year of exquisite training, Karim regretfully and honorably turns over Zaynab to the 50+ year caliph Abd-al Rahman despite both Karim and Zaynab admitting their love for each other.
Even though both the caliph Abd-al Rahman and Zaynab find comfort and pleasure in each other, the graphic scenes of their erotic lovemaking are grueling from a reader's standpoint. Especially after Karim. But alas, the caliph wasn't the end of Zaynab's conquests. Afterwards, Zaynab copulates with the hard-working, virgin physician Hasdai ibn Shaprut (a Jewish prince in his own right) and finally the brutal villain Ali Hassan, a murderer and rapist that Zaynab pleasures to death. THE LOVE SLAVE attempts to assuage the intimate scenes with the villain Ali Hassan by noting Ali Hassan's monstrous manhood, in fact the biggest Zaynab has had! The entire sequence with Ali Hassan served as sort of a case study in perverse attraction to a monstrous villain (yet handsome and with a huge manhood). The final conquest with the villain represents some sort of a crown on Zaynab's varied triumphs in her promiscuous resume. It was too much and certainly not enjoyable.
Earlier, Hadsai and Zaynab go at it (often) under the "hero" Karim's very roof where Karim and Zaynab settle down together by the conclusion! Karim is aware! Worse, after Zaynab prepares for her marriage with her "One-True-Love" Karim, she indulges in a threesome with Hasdai to show Hasdai her gratitude for reuniting her with Karim! Yep, I'm too traditional I think, I couldn't take that threesome after Zaynab knows she will finally get to marry Karim.
I particularly didn't care for the plotting which bartered Zaynab's daughter's life from her days as the caliph's favored concubine for her happily-ever-after with Karim. The happily-ever-after also bartered away Karim's entire family. Had Karim's family not perished and had Zaynab's daughter not died, Zaynab would have continue in her role as Love Slave for Hasdai. She would never know her happily-ever-after without these tragedies.
I could only take so much ugh-next-page moments.
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
Sunday, August 12, 2007
Already Dead, by Charlie Huston [3]
***/***** (3/5)
"But I did get sloppy last night, and someone is gunna swing for it. So I'll fry a little to keep them happy and to keep myself alive. Because I don't want to die. Except, oh yeah, I'm already dead."
An interesting blend of gritty suspense, first-person detective thriller, and action in the context of a dark New York City (NYC) riddled with zombies, vampires and their socio-political hierarchies, Charlie Huston mixes a tangy cocktail punch in the form of ALREADY DEAD. There's a love mixed in as well, but true to guy fiction, it's a bit tragic and certainly not the primary focus of this novel. I liked the noir feel of ALREADY DEAD, I liked the fast-paced action, I enjoyed the dark NYC settings, I even liked the politics amongst the vampire (or "Vampyre") clans. The wry, sardonic humor our main character Joe Pitt exudes prompted some laughs. Charlie Huston's Joe Pitt reminded me of Richard Morgan's Takeshi Kovacs, but I liked Kovacs better. Charlie Huston's ALREADY DEAD hums with an impassioned detachment - if I can call it that - that stems from its main character Joe Pitt, and the book contains plenty of violence and explicit language. All of it builds the dark and gritty scene in an unsympathetic New York City nightlife crawling with vampyres, zombies and other creepy entities you don't want to meet in a dark alley.
A cool, fun book overall, I still found the final pieces of the mystery puzzle a bit lacking, a bit anti-climactic. Although I liked the anti-hero persona of Joe Pitt, I thought the book had him in a reactionary role throughout. From beginning to end, Joe Pitt is always reacting to the circumstances others have set in motion, never really dictating any of his own. I suppose that's part of what makes this book a mystery/suspense, but it'd be nice to see Joe setting something up for once. Even at the end when he retains Horde's teeth and ultimately evades the Coalition and Predo, I thought he lucked out rather than eliciting an outcome of his own making.
There's some memorable soliloquies and humorous lines in this novel. That in and of itself made the reading experience very worthwhile.
"Death has truly and finally arrived.
Good.
I have failed. Failed as a child; failed as a man; failed as a revolutionary; failed as a lover; failed as a goodguy. My only success in life has been as a pawn. Fuck it, I never asked to be any of those things. And my life was over by rights long ago. I've just been waiting to catch up to it. Then my heart explodes, beating a manic rhythm, and a I realize my life is not over.
Hell."
The Story, possible SPOILERS.
We pick up the story as rogue vampyre Joe Pitt eliminates some "shamblers" (zombies) which pose a threat to the underground Vampyre hierarchy by drawing undue attention. 6-foot-3 Joe Pitt looks 28, but he was was turned into a Vampyre some 30 years ago, and initiated into the vampyre clan the Society in New York City by his then-friend, Terry Bird. In Terry's clan the Society, Joe serves as the Society's de facto Enforcer, meting out the Society's justice and punishment. He leaves the Society though to live as a rogue vampyre, no longer wanting to play someone else's thug enforcer. Joe is very cynical and often times unapologetic over his brutal actions and prosaic immorality.
Joe settles into a life of a rogue vampyre after he leaves the Society. Sometimes he's hired for jobs by the Society, other times, he's hired for jobs by the biggest vampyre clan, the Coalition. The Coalition hires Joe to eliminate some zombies as the book begins, zombies he cuts down on Society's turf. After eliminating the zombies, Joe realizes he still needs to find and kill the carrier who is at large. Predo from the Coalition threatens agonizing death (sunlight) if Joe doesn't clean up the mess from the zombies Joe killed, a mess in which Joe leaves an innocent witness alive and the zombie corpses in plain sight.
It's Joe's soft spot for trying-to-do-the-right-thing which lands him into some trouble, and Predo from the Coalition exploits these good-guy tendencies, and stages events which ultimately position Joe between a rock and hard place. Predo further confounds Joe's problems as he obliges Joe to help the most wealthy family in NYC (and the closest thing NYC has to an aristocracy) find their missing 14 year-old girl, Amanda Horde. Dale Horde (CEO and founder of Horde Bio Tech) and his wife Marilee are seemingly at odds with each other and with Joe. Meanwhile, Terry and the Society are on Joe's case for all the unwanted events on their turf. The most powerful and also the most surreptitious Vampyre clan the Enclave also seems to have adopted Joe against his wishes.
Between trying to balance the different vampyre clans (Society, the Coalition, the Enclave), finding the zombie carrier, finding the Horde girl, Joe also struggles to maintain a semblance of normalcy with his HIV-positive girlfriend Evie. He loves Evie and Evie loves him but of course she knows nothing of what he really is; that is, his vampyre life.
Welcome to Charlie Huston's ALREADY DEAD, where the shit hits the fan, and Joe Pitt must solve some riddles and cope to survive with everyone breathing down his neck. Except, of course, he's already dead.
"So that's one more thing for me to deal with. I'd like [making up girlfreind] to be at the top of my list, but it's not. Instead my list reads something like this:
1) Find carrier.
2) Find Horde girl.
3) Find out who is spying on me.
4) Call Terry.
5) Deal with Predo.
6) Make up with girlfriend.
Oh, and at the top of that list you can add, GET SOME BLOOD."
The action is good, and I was glad the end refrained from a Matrix finale. However, I was disappointed by the reactionary elements in the storytelling and the various pieces of the mystery puzzle itself seemed empty once we learn everything. Still, there's some good kick-ass writing here, fast pacing, plenty of action and of course, a hard-nosed gritty first-person characterization to sate anyone's appetite.
"But I did get sloppy last night, and someone is gunna swing for it. So I'll fry a little to keep them happy and to keep myself alive. Because I don't want to die. Except, oh yeah, I'm already dead."
An interesting blend of gritty suspense, first-person detective thriller, and action in the context of a dark New York City (NYC) riddled with zombies, vampires and their socio-political hierarchies, Charlie Huston mixes a tangy cocktail punch in the form of ALREADY DEAD. There's a love mixed in as well, but true to guy fiction, it's a bit tragic and certainly not the primary focus of this novel. I liked the noir feel of ALREADY DEAD, I liked the fast-paced action, I enjoyed the dark NYC settings, I even liked the politics amongst the vampire (or "Vampyre") clans. The wry, sardonic humor our main character Joe Pitt exudes prompted some laughs. Charlie Huston's Joe Pitt reminded me of Richard Morgan's Takeshi Kovacs, but I liked Kovacs better. Charlie Huston's ALREADY DEAD hums with an impassioned detachment - if I can call it that - that stems from its main character Joe Pitt, and the book contains plenty of violence and explicit language. All of it builds the dark and gritty scene in an unsympathetic New York City nightlife crawling with vampyres, zombies and other creepy entities you don't want to meet in a dark alley.
A cool, fun book overall, I still found the final pieces of the mystery puzzle a bit lacking, a bit anti-climactic. Although I liked the anti-hero persona of Joe Pitt, I thought the book had him in a reactionary role throughout. From beginning to end, Joe Pitt is always reacting to the circumstances others have set in motion, never really dictating any of his own. I suppose that's part of what makes this book a mystery/suspense, but it'd be nice to see Joe setting something up for once. Even at the end when he retains Horde's teeth and ultimately evades the Coalition and Predo, I thought he lucked out rather than eliciting an outcome of his own making.
There's some memorable soliloquies and humorous lines in this novel. That in and of itself made the reading experience very worthwhile.
"Death has truly and finally arrived.
Good.
I have failed. Failed as a child; failed as a man; failed as a revolutionary; failed as a lover; failed as a goodguy. My only success in life has been as a pawn. Fuck it, I never asked to be any of those things. And my life was over by rights long ago. I've just been waiting to catch up to it. Then my heart explodes, beating a manic rhythm, and a I realize my life is not over.
Hell."
The Story, possible SPOILERS.
We pick up the story as rogue vampyre Joe Pitt eliminates some "shamblers" (zombies) which pose a threat to the underground Vampyre hierarchy by drawing undue attention. 6-foot-3 Joe Pitt looks 28, but he was was turned into a Vampyre some 30 years ago, and initiated into the vampyre clan the Society in New York City by his then-friend, Terry Bird. In Terry's clan the Society, Joe serves as the Society's de facto Enforcer, meting out the Society's justice and punishment. He leaves the Society though to live as a rogue vampyre, no longer wanting to play someone else's thug enforcer. Joe is very cynical and often times unapologetic over his brutal actions and prosaic immorality.
Joe settles into a life of a rogue vampyre after he leaves the Society. Sometimes he's hired for jobs by the Society, other times, he's hired for jobs by the biggest vampyre clan, the Coalition. The Coalition hires Joe to eliminate some zombies as the book begins, zombies he cuts down on Society's turf. After eliminating the zombies, Joe realizes he still needs to find and kill the carrier who is at large. Predo from the Coalition threatens agonizing death (sunlight) if Joe doesn't clean up the mess from the zombies Joe killed, a mess in which Joe leaves an innocent witness alive and the zombie corpses in plain sight.
It's Joe's soft spot for trying-to-do-the-right-thing which lands him into some trouble, and Predo from the Coalition exploits these good-guy tendencies, and stages events which ultimately position Joe between a rock and hard place. Predo further confounds Joe's problems as he obliges Joe to help the most wealthy family in NYC (and the closest thing NYC has to an aristocracy) find their missing 14 year-old girl, Amanda Horde. Dale Horde (CEO and founder of Horde Bio Tech) and his wife Marilee are seemingly at odds with each other and with Joe. Meanwhile, Terry and the Society are on Joe's case for all the unwanted events on their turf. The most powerful and also the most surreptitious Vampyre clan the Enclave also seems to have adopted Joe against his wishes.
Between trying to balance the different vampyre clans (Society, the Coalition, the Enclave), finding the zombie carrier, finding the Horde girl, Joe also struggles to maintain a semblance of normalcy with his HIV-positive girlfriend Evie. He loves Evie and Evie loves him but of course she knows nothing of what he really is; that is, his vampyre life.
Welcome to Charlie Huston's ALREADY DEAD, where the shit hits the fan, and Joe Pitt must solve some riddles and cope to survive with everyone breathing down his neck. Except, of course, he's already dead.
"So that's one more thing for me to deal with. I'd like [making up girlfreind] to be at the top of my list, but it's not. Instead my list reads something like this:
1) Find carrier.
2) Find Horde girl.
3) Find out who is spying on me.
4) Call Terry.
5) Deal with Predo.
6) Make up with girlfriend.
Oh, and at the top of that list you can add, GET SOME BLOOD."
The action is good, and I was glad the end refrained from a Matrix finale. However, I was disappointed by the reactionary elements in the storytelling and the various pieces of the mystery puzzle itself seemed empty once we learn everything. Still, there's some good kick-ass writing here, fast pacing, plenty of action and of course, a hard-nosed gritty first-person characterization to sate anyone's appetite.
Friday, August 10, 2007
This Is All I Ask, by Lynn Kurland [1]
*/***** (1/5)
For a PG-rated romance novel, I enjoyed the sweet h/h interaction in Lynn Kurland's THIS IS ALL I ASK but found the rest mostly monotonous, and the message a bit extreme to say the least. Much better than Carroll's PG-rated THE NIGHT DRIFTER, but still not as sweet Julie Garwood's sweet, yet passionate romances. I didn't like the essential premise of this novel. Basically the take-home message of the novel rests on making the hero blind as punishment for choosing outward beauty in his first wife. A bit drastic, don't you think? Even at the end, our wise witch Berengaria harangues, "The loss of your sight forced you to see with the eyes of your soul," as if blindness was the only way he could perceive true inner beauty. Making him blind also seemed to help him deduce the villain's secret plot towards the end before it comes to fruition. Maybe we should just make the entire male population blind. That will teach them from trusting in outward beauty while inducing a bit of cleverness in the process!
Along with belaboring our heroine's less-than-average to average looks, THIS IS ALL I ASK suggests that Christopher would fail to recognize Gillian's true beauty without his blindness. Essentially, the book impresses upon us blindness a suitable penalty for handsome heroes trusting in beautiful women. That's right, Christopher falling in love with his homely heroine depended on stripping Christopher of his eyesight. Christopher's blindness wasn't only extreme, but it was unnecessary. Christopher's honor and his promise to Gillian's brother William already compelled him to marry Gillian. After marrying her, they would inevitably spend time together (as they did regardless), and he would perceive Gillian's inner beauty over time (as he did) despite her less-than-desirable looks. He doesn't have to be blind for it!
Kind of sad actually, he will never truly see his heroine, he will never see his children or watch them grow up...
Simplistically, the book implies that beautiful women are treacherous while handsome men are wholesome. All well and good from a female's point-of-view. Stereotypically (for romance), the hero falls for the heroine's inside beauty (because she lacks it on the outside) while the heroine is free to love the hero's chiseled handsomeness. When Gillian chances on Christopher's near-naked frame wrestling with his squire in the courtyard, Gillian gasps with admiration of Christopher's muscled appearance. Gillian blushes and admires Christopher's handsomeness and powerful frame. Meanwhile, Christopher admires Gillian's innocent charm and tender compassion. Admiring her looks over time isn't an option obviously.
If you're going to make the woman undesirable yet beautiful on the inside, at least let's see some equality here and make the hero physically unattractive but with a compassionate heart! Alas, this is romance after all so we have the kind, handsome hero but the imperfect virgin heroine...
Worse, Christopher moons over Gillian relatively early despite not having seen her nor talked to her in person all that much. When Gillian runs away after Christopher threatens to cast her off (scenarios inspired by jumping to the wrong conclusions from hearsay and rumors), Christopher adamantly searches for two days without rest like a man stricken with love (even in his thoughts). But he can't see her, he barely touches her, and he hasn't spoken to her all that much during her stay so far. So where's all this affection coming from, other than the author's obvious desire to force a handsome knight see the inner beauty in homely women. The witch Berengaria says, "Your knight is learning to see things his eyes never could, girl." Answer: blind him so he has no choice?
The whole book seemed cheap, insinuating that for a handsome guy to fall in love with a sweet yet ugly girl, that guy must lack eyesight. Yet, the handsome knight was already compelled to marry her and consequently spend time with her, a situation that could result in love without the blindness!
The first half of THIS IS ALL I ASK comprises mostly of jumping to the wrong conclusions and misconceptions. Such as when the heroine Gillian overhears rumors of Christopher of Blackmour's demonic ministrations and takes them to heart. Like when Christopher learns of Gillian's attempt to speak to a midwife and drawing all the wrong conclusions as a result. Misconceptions of Gillian believing Christopher will want her if she can make herself pretty (lord knows how a blind man can see beauty), and of Christopher's misconception that Gillian won't want him because he's blind and thus less than a man.
And it wouldn't be a romance novel if it didn't deal with the insecurities of the heroine's appearance. THIS IS ALL I ASK isn't nearly as bad in this department as VANQUISHED (**) or a couple of Medeiros novels I've read, all of which mercilessly drum out insecurities over a heroine's bland looks, but there's many traces of these insecurities in this novel nonetheless. Even after 325 pages, Gillian is thankful that her lord Christopher is blind because otherwise, he wouldn't wed one so ugly such as she. Even though Christopher already loves her beyond petty appearances by this point.
So what did I like about THIS IS ALL I ASK? After the misconceptions were out of the way, I did enjoy the H/H interaction and they really seemed to want to give to each other. Gillian goes out of her way to please Christopher and Christopher genuinely cherishes her, giving all he is to her privately in spite of his gruff public demeanor. Christopher soothes her with loving words, massages her, aids her with her clothes and bath, feeds her. He affectionately cares for her while Gillian reciprocates in every way.
The Story, possible SPOILERS.
Bernard of Warewick beats and maltreats his sweet, skinny and plain daughter Gillian. Before Gillian's loving brother dies, he makes his friend, the handsome Christopher of Blackmour, promise to provide his sister Gillian succor from their father Bernard. Despite misgivings of his own from his first marriage, the honorable Christopher obliges and marries Gillian, providing Gillian with his name and protection. Except for her sweetness and virginity, Gillian offers only her paltry dowry and skinny, plain looks. The looks don't mean much to Christopher. Christopher feels he's the one with nothing to offer Gillian as he considers himself less than man without his eyesight.
The first half of the story rings with misconceptions while the second half of the novel portrays the mutual affection Christopher and Gillian bear for each other. As you can tell, there's parts in the second half I really enjoyed, I really liked the tender moments of affection each bestow upon the other. It is also during this time Gillian and Christopher vocalize their I-Love-You's (Gillian is first).
The finale sheds light on a sinister conspiracy Gillian's father Warewick hatches, and again we have this notion of Christopher somehow needing his blindness to recognize Gillian's inner beauty. If we weren't reminded of this dumb notion, I would have enjoyed the novel more. I didn't mind Christopher staying blind, I didn't mind his public humiliation in a duel against Warewick (that was fitting actually), but I do mind the persistent reminders that recognizing inner beauty in a skinny, plain girl depends on a handsome knight's loss of eyesight. That he wouldn't fall in love with her if he wasn't blind. That being blind helped Christopher decipher Warewick's plot to subdue Blackmour (made him clever).
Again, it's sweet, and enjoyable in some parts for the H/H mutual affection, but cheap in the end also. A cheapness asserted by taking away a handsome hero's eyesight to make him perceive of a virgin's inner beauty, a beauty she lacks on the outside. Why a seeing Christopher couldn't love Gillian after his disastrous first marriage and after the time he spends with Gillian, I'll never know.
For a PG-rated romance novel, I enjoyed the sweet h/h interaction in Lynn Kurland's THIS IS ALL I ASK but found the rest mostly monotonous, and the message a bit extreme to say the least. Much better than Carroll's PG-rated THE NIGHT DRIFTER, but still not as sweet Julie Garwood's sweet, yet passionate romances. I didn't like the essential premise of this novel. Basically the take-home message of the novel rests on making the hero blind as punishment for choosing outward beauty in his first wife. A bit drastic, don't you think? Even at the end, our wise witch Berengaria harangues, "The loss of your sight forced you to see with the eyes of your soul," as if blindness was the only way he could perceive true inner beauty. Making him blind also seemed to help him deduce the villain's secret plot towards the end before it comes to fruition. Maybe we should just make the entire male population blind. That will teach them from trusting in outward beauty while inducing a bit of cleverness in the process!
Along with belaboring our heroine's less-than-average to average looks, THIS IS ALL I ASK suggests that Christopher would fail to recognize Gillian's true beauty without his blindness. Essentially, the book impresses upon us blindness a suitable penalty for handsome heroes trusting in beautiful women. That's right, Christopher falling in love with his homely heroine depended on stripping Christopher of his eyesight. Christopher's blindness wasn't only extreme, but it was unnecessary. Christopher's honor and his promise to Gillian's brother William already compelled him to marry Gillian. After marrying her, they would inevitably spend time together (as they did regardless), and he would perceive Gillian's inner beauty over time (as he did) despite her less-than-desirable looks. He doesn't have to be blind for it!
Kind of sad actually, he will never truly see his heroine, he will never see his children or watch them grow up...
Simplistically, the book implies that beautiful women are treacherous while handsome men are wholesome. All well and good from a female's point-of-view. Stereotypically (for romance), the hero falls for the heroine's inside beauty (because she lacks it on the outside) while the heroine is free to love the hero's chiseled handsomeness. When Gillian chances on Christopher's near-naked frame wrestling with his squire in the courtyard, Gillian gasps with admiration of Christopher's muscled appearance. Gillian blushes and admires Christopher's handsomeness and powerful frame. Meanwhile, Christopher admires Gillian's innocent charm and tender compassion. Admiring her looks over time isn't an option obviously.
If you're going to make the woman undesirable yet beautiful on the inside, at least let's see some equality here and make the hero physically unattractive but with a compassionate heart! Alas, this is romance after all so we have the kind, handsome hero but the imperfect virgin heroine...
Worse, Christopher moons over Gillian relatively early despite not having seen her nor talked to her in person all that much. When Gillian runs away after Christopher threatens to cast her off (scenarios inspired by jumping to the wrong conclusions from hearsay and rumors), Christopher adamantly searches for two days without rest like a man stricken with love (even in his thoughts). But he can't see her, he barely touches her, and he hasn't spoken to her all that much during her stay so far. So where's all this affection coming from, other than the author's obvious desire to force a handsome knight see the inner beauty in homely women. The witch Berengaria says, "Your knight is learning to see things his eyes never could, girl." Answer: blind him so he has no choice?
The whole book seemed cheap, insinuating that for a handsome guy to fall in love with a sweet yet ugly girl, that guy must lack eyesight. Yet, the handsome knight was already compelled to marry her and consequently spend time with her, a situation that could result in love without the blindness!
The first half of THIS IS ALL I ASK comprises mostly of jumping to the wrong conclusions and misconceptions. Such as when the heroine Gillian overhears rumors of Christopher of Blackmour's demonic ministrations and takes them to heart. Like when Christopher learns of Gillian's attempt to speak to a midwife and drawing all the wrong conclusions as a result. Misconceptions of Gillian believing Christopher will want her if she can make herself pretty (lord knows how a blind man can see beauty), and of Christopher's misconception that Gillian won't want him because he's blind and thus less than a man.
And it wouldn't be a romance novel if it didn't deal with the insecurities of the heroine's appearance. THIS IS ALL I ASK isn't nearly as bad in this department as VANQUISHED (**) or a couple of Medeiros novels I've read, all of which mercilessly drum out insecurities over a heroine's bland looks, but there's many traces of these insecurities in this novel nonetheless. Even after 325 pages, Gillian is thankful that her lord Christopher is blind because otherwise, he wouldn't wed one so ugly such as she. Even though Christopher already loves her beyond petty appearances by this point.
So what did I like about THIS IS ALL I ASK? After the misconceptions were out of the way, I did enjoy the H/H interaction and they really seemed to want to give to each other. Gillian goes out of her way to please Christopher and Christopher genuinely cherishes her, giving all he is to her privately in spite of his gruff public demeanor. Christopher soothes her with loving words, massages her, aids her with her clothes and bath, feeds her. He affectionately cares for her while Gillian reciprocates in every way.
The Story, possible SPOILERS.
Bernard of Warewick beats and maltreats his sweet, skinny and plain daughter Gillian. Before Gillian's loving brother dies, he makes his friend, the handsome Christopher of Blackmour, promise to provide his sister Gillian succor from their father Bernard. Despite misgivings of his own from his first marriage, the honorable Christopher obliges and marries Gillian, providing Gillian with his name and protection. Except for her sweetness and virginity, Gillian offers only her paltry dowry and skinny, plain looks. The looks don't mean much to Christopher. Christopher feels he's the one with nothing to offer Gillian as he considers himself less than man without his eyesight.
The first half of the story rings with misconceptions while the second half of the novel portrays the mutual affection Christopher and Gillian bear for each other. As you can tell, there's parts in the second half I really enjoyed, I really liked the tender moments of affection each bestow upon the other. It is also during this time Gillian and Christopher vocalize their I-Love-You's (Gillian is first).
The finale sheds light on a sinister conspiracy Gillian's father Warewick hatches, and again we have this notion of Christopher somehow needing his blindness to recognize Gillian's inner beauty. If we weren't reminded of this dumb notion, I would have enjoyed the novel more. I didn't mind Christopher staying blind, I didn't mind his public humiliation in a duel against Warewick (that was fitting actually), but I do mind the persistent reminders that recognizing inner beauty in a skinny, plain girl depends on a handsome knight's loss of eyesight. That he wouldn't fall in love with her if he wasn't blind. That being blind helped Christopher decipher Warewick's plot to subdue Blackmour (made him clever).
Again, it's sweet, and enjoyable in some parts for the H/H mutual affection, but cheap in the end also. A cheapness asserted by taking away a handsome hero's eyesight to make him perceive of a virgin's inner beauty, a beauty she lacks on the outside. Why a seeing Christopher couldn't love Gillian after his disastrous first marriage and after the time he spends with Gillian, I'll never know.
Sunday, August 5, 2007
A Season to be Sinful, by Jo Goodman [2]
**/***** (2/5)
Solid writing, good intrigue, mature characters (for the most part) and a very absurd, nonsensical ending sums up my experience of Jo Goodman's A SEASON TO BE SINFUL. As you can tell, the end ruined the book for me. I could not understand the hero Sherry's actions at the end. He wants to ensure the villain's silence and force him into exile? He feels no anger for the man who physically and emotionally abused the woman he loves? Huh? When the villain Woodridge denigrates Lily right in front of him, Sherry feels no anger? How can Sherry live with himself letting the man who not only terrorized Lily but other young women, just walk away? By letting the villain to live, Sherry only ineptly stretches the ending and allows the villain a chance to return and terrorize some more! For a hero that's believable for the most part, the finale he maneuvers to contrive was pretty dumb. The book contains some entertaining and humorous banter, witty dialogue, and suspenseful plots of intrigue. Unfortunately, I thought the hero and heroine desperately lacked chemistry even though they enjoyed some witty banter.
Interaction between the lead pair was weird, off . . . forget about any equal ground here, appeared as though Lily went out of her way to ensure she was the dominant persona between herself and her hero Sherry. Didn't seem like a romance or an empowering love between the two, seemed more like Lily jostling to come out on top in every way. Poor Sherry, he honors Lily, respects Lily, never goes against any of her wishes or obscenely violent demands, voices the words I-Love-You early, mouths heartfelt words of affection early and often, and yet, Lily grinds him into the dirt. I understand Lily has been through a lot prior to meeting Sherry, but the relationship between Lily and Sherry seemed too much of a one-way street. Even at the end when both are supposed to love and trust each other and after both are married, I thought Sherry's love for Lily dwarfed Lily's love for Sherry (Goodman writes from Sherry's perspective specifically so we're witness to his lovesick thoughts and actions in the epilogue). It almost seems like Lily enjoyed having Sherry debased before her. I liked that Lily is aggressive sensually and didn't melt at Sherry's every touch so typical of romance novels, but it seemed to go beyond just aggression. Lily really doesn't do anything to justify Sherry's debased worship of her, because if she did, it would seem more like love. Sherry has to prove himself to Lily again and again, and when she reveals that she's barren, Sherry doesn't blink twice. We'll always have the orphaned children, Sherry notes, and Lily is thrilled to have Sherry by the balls.
Sherry sacrifices everything for Lily and the orphaned children despite having everything to lose. Lily has everything to gain and nothing to lose with a kind and loving Sherry.
This book belongs to Lily and the three "scoundrels," orphans Lily takes responsibility for. The hero Sherry cheers them on from the sidelines for the entire book. What is the hero Sherry's trivial purpose in the novel? Well, Sherry stages the scene towards the end which allows Lily and the 3 children to play their dangerous roles while Sherry timidly steps aside. It's Lily who pummels and scratches the villain Woodridge. It's Lily who cripples Woodridge when he returns later on. The children play key (but dangerous) roles stripping Granville of his weapons and then having the foresight to recognize Woodridge will return when Sherry lets him go alive.
Sherry is clueless and his actions (or lack thereof) indicate a complete void of sense and intelligence. During a confrontation involving Sherry, Lily and the villain Woodridge, Woodridge insults the woman Sherry loves (Lily) pretty badly. Sherry doesn't seem to notice or care, he doesn't even get angry. It's Lily who pummels and claws at the villain Woodridge. After learning of all of the despicable abuse Lily suffers at Woodridge's hands much earlier in the book, Sherry doesn't resolve to just kill Woodridge outright but instead concocts a harebrained scheme to force Woodridge into exile and silence, a scheme which leads to the initial confrontation among Sherry, Lily and Woodridge. I want to know how exactly Sherry is supposed to enforce the exile, and ensure Woodridge remains at his country estate without any backup from his secretive confederacy? Sherry tells Woodridge that Sherry will know if Woodridge steps outside of Woodridge's country estate, but how will you know Sherry? Will you post guards along the circumference of Woodridge's estate 24/7 for the rest Woodridge's existence? You don't care of the potential for Woodridge to come after Lily and the children? How big is Woodridge's estate anyway, how many guards will be required to watch along the periphery of the estate? Sherry doesn't resolve to kill Woodridge from the start, he doesn't get angry at Woodridge's treatment of Lily, he's actually cheering and happy after the dumb scheme which allows Woodridge to live (after Woodridge signs a confession and supposedly heads off to his exile)!
Any normal hero wouldn't be able to look at Woodridge after what he's done to Lily, much less talk to him at length. The entire time Sherry attempts to wring a confession out of Woodridge I'm thinking, how can you even bear to look at Woodridge considering what you know he's done to the woman you love?!? Sherry has nothing to do when Woodridge returns to Granville later at night and terrorizes Lily once again. Sherry thrusts a stiletto in Woodridge after Lily already maimed and incapacitated Woodridge [laughs]! So basically, Sherry talks to Woodridge at length knowing this is the man that abused the woman you love, shrugs off a disparaging remark aimed at Lily, allows him to live despite the potential for him to return and terrorize, secures his oath and exile, but in the end, endangers the children and Lily anyway. Way to go there, Sherry, really bright of you there!
Needless to say, A SEASON TO BE SINFUL highlights a horribly-contrived ending after some intriguing plot threads, and makes Sherry look pretty inept and dumb just so Lily and the children can shine. I think Sherry should start a 19th-century cheer leading squad.
The Story.
Sixteen year-old Miss Lilith "Lily" Sterling fosters at the L'Abbaye de Sacre Coeur, a convent in France after her parents died more than 10 years ago. The insidious Wycliff Standish, Baron Woodridge, visits the abbey seeking a governess for his children. Woodridge's intents for the potential governess extend beyond normal duties and into the realm of servicing his and friends' carnal pleasures. Lily's good friend and mentor Sister Mary Joseph arranges Lily's escape to London before Woodridge can snatch Lily.
More than five years later, we find twenty-one year-old Lily in London at Covent Garden as a common thief saving the life of Viscount Sheridan ("Sherry"), Alexander Grantham. Dressed as a boy and having her dark auburn hair dyed black, Lily takes a shiv in her side instead. Before Sherry can react, three boys haul Lily off while Sherry escapes unscathed. When Lily's condition deteriorates, the three boys ("scoundrels" as they're affectionately referred to) come to Sherry's home for succor. Sherry spares no expense enlisting a physician's aid to bring Lily back to health. Sherry himself cares for Lily and takes up vigil by her bedside for many nights.
In the process, Sherry comes to care for the three orphaned children ("scoundrels") as they never leave Lily's side either. A SEASON TO BE SINFUL features the scoundrels quite a bit in humorous subplots. In fact, I'd say the scoundrels Pinch, Dash and Midge overshadowed every plot and character in the book except for Lily.
As Sherry and Lily spend more time together, Sherry discovers more about the incident back at Covent Garden when Lily saves him. Sherry also glimpses into Lily's very dark and tortured past, as she reacts violently to many seemingly innocuous things. Despite Lily's attempts to prompt him into throwing her out and taking on the children into his household, Sherry begins to care for Lily and the children quite a bit. With everyone's permission, Sherry whisks everyone away to his far-away seat at Granville and has Lily teach the children as a proper governess. Sherry doesn't do anything without their permission of course even if it for their own good. Lily agrees on the condition that she's allowed to leave whenever she wishes, no questions asked.
While Sherry and Lily rendezvous more and more intimately, Lily also reveals more of her tortured past and what happened to her the 5 years between leaving the abbey in France and saving Sherry in London. I realize Lily's reservations and trust issues, but I still thought it took too long for Lily to trust Sherry as Sherry regales her with his affections and words of love.
The various threads of intrigue all come together and it seemed like every thing and everyone is interconnected, and the attempt on Sherry's life in London was no coincidence. Sherry's clandestine confederacy under the English Crown, Lily's parentage, Lily's wounded soul, Lily's secret history, her running, Woodridge, France, Nopolean, the scoundrels, and Sherry's godmother the Lady Georgia Pendelton, Countess of Rivendale, all come to a head. That was all good. What wasn't good was Sherry's contrived end-game delivering them from the villain Woodridge. As I mentioned before, it showed Sherry's complete lack of sense and intelligence. It also highlighted Sherry's apathy for the harm inflicted upon the woman he loves. A veritable ruse of an ending concocted to have Lily and the children play their dangerous parts, parts Sherry's negligence and provincial mind sanctions.
Ah, good writing, intriguing plots, and for the most part, mature characterizations completely ruined by a dumb ending and the hero's lack of foresight.
Solid writing, good intrigue, mature characters (for the most part) and a very absurd, nonsensical ending sums up my experience of Jo Goodman's A SEASON TO BE SINFUL. As you can tell, the end ruined the book for me. I could not understand the hero Sherry's actions at the end. He wants to ensure the villain's silence and force him into exile? He feels no anger for the man who physically and emotionally abused the woman he loves? Huh? When the villain Woodridge denigrates Lily right in front of him, Sherry feels no anger? How can Sherry live with himself letting the man who not only terrorized Lily but other young women, just walk away? By letting the villain to live, Sherry only ineptly stretches the ending and allows the villain a chance to return and terrorize some more! For a hero that's believable for the most part, the finale he maneuvers to contrive was pretty dumb. The book contains some entertaining and humorous banter, witty dialogue, and suspenseful plots of intrigue. Unfortunately, I thought the hero and heroine desperately lacked chemistry even though they enjoyed some witty banter.
Interaction between the lead pair was weird, off . . . forget about any equal ground here, appeared as though Lily went out of her way to ensure she was the dominant persona between herself and her hero Sherry. Didn't seem like a romance or an empowering love between the two, seemed more like Lily jostling to come out on top in every way. Poor Sherry, he honors Lily, respects Lily, never goes against any of her wishes or obscenely violent demands, voices the words I-Love-You early, mouths heartfelt words of affection early and often, and yet, Lily grinds him into the dirt. I understand Lily has been through a lot prior to meeting Sherry, but the relationship between Lily and Sherry seemed too much of a one-way street. Even at the end when both are supposed to love and trust each other and after both are married, I thought Sherry's love for Lily dwarfed Lily's love for Sherry (Goodman writes from Sherry's perspective specifically so we're witness to his lovesick thoughts and actions in the epilogue). It almost seems like Lily enjoyed having Sherry debased before her. I liked that Lily is aggressive sensually and didn't melt at Sherry's every touch so typical of romance novels, but it seemed to go beyond just aggression. Lily really doesn't do anything to justify Sherry's debased worship of her, because if she did, it would seem more like love. Sherry has to prove himself to Lily again and again, and when she reveals that she's barren, Sherry doesn't blink twice. We'll always have the orphaned children, Sherry notes, and Lily is thrilled to have Sherry by the balls.
Sherry sacrifices everything for Lily and the orphaned children despite having everything to lose. Lily has everything to gain and nothing to lose with a kind and loving Sherry.
This book belongs to Lily and the three "scoundrels," orphans Lily takes responsibility for. The hero Sherry cheers them on from the sidelines for the entire book. What is the hero Sherry's trivial purpose in the novel? Well, Sherry stages the scene towards the end which allows Lily and the 3 children to play their dangerous roles while Sherry timidly steps aside. It's Lily who pummels and scratches the villain Woodridge. It's Lily who cripples Woodridge when he returns later on. The children play key (but dangerous) roles stripping Granville of his weapons and then having the foresight to recognize Woodridge will return when Sherry lets him go alive.
Sherry is clueless and his actions (or lack thereof) indicate a complete void of sense and intelligence. During a confrontation involving Sherry, Lily and the villain Woodridge, Woodridge insults the woman Sherry loves (Lily) pretty badly. Sherry doesn't seem to notice or care, he doesn't even get angry. It's Lily who pummels and claws at the villain Woodridge. After learning of all of the despicable abuse Lily suffers at Woodridge's hands much earlier in the book, Sherry doesn't resolve to just kill Woodridge outright but instead concocts a harebrained scheme to force Woodridge into exile and silence, a scheme which leads to the initial confrontation among Sherry, Lily and Woodridge. I want to know how exactly Sherry is supposed to enforce the exile, and ensure Woodridge remains at his country estate without any backup from his secretive confederacy? Sherry tells Woodridge that Sherry will know if Woodridge steps outside of Woodridge's country estate, but how will you know Sherry? Will you post guards along the circumference of Woodridge's estate 24/7 for the rest Woodridge's existence? You don't care of the potential for Woodridge to come after Lily and the children? How big is Woodridge's estate anyway, how many guards will be required to watch along the periphery of the estate? Sherry doesn't resolve to kill Woodridge from the start, he doesn't get angry at Woodridge's treatment of Lily, he's actually cheering and happy after the dumb scheme which allows Woodridge to live (after Woodridge signs a confession and supposedly heads off to his exile)!
Any normal hero wouldn't be able to look at Woodridge after what he's done to Lily, much less talk to him at length. The entire time Sherry attempts to wring a confession out of Woodridge I'm thinking, how can you even bear to look at Woodridge considering what you know he's done to the woman you love?!? Sherry has nothing to do when Woodridge returns to Granville later at night and terrorizes Lily once again. Sherry thrusts a stiletto in Woodridge after Lily already maimed and incapacitated Woodridge [laughs]! So basically, Sherry talks to Woodridge at length knowing this is the man that abused the woman you love, shrugs off a disparaging remark aimed at Lily, allows him to live despite the potential for him to return and terrorize, secures his oath and exile, but in the end, endangers the children and Lily anyway. Way to go there, Sherry, really bright of you there!
Needless to say, A SEASON TO BE SINFUL highlights a horribly-contrived ending after some intriguing plot threads, and makes Sherry look pretty inept and dumb just so Lily and the children can shine. I think Sherry should start a 19th-century cheer leading squad.
The Story.
Sixteen year-old Miss Lilith "Lily" Sterling fosters at the L'Abbaye de Sacre Coeur, a convent in France after her parents died more than 10 years ago. The insidious Wycliff Standish, Baron Woodridge, visits the abbey seeking a governess for his children. Woodridge's intents for the potential governess extend beyond normal duties and into the realm of servicing his and friends' carnal pleasures. Lily's good friend and mentor Sister Mary Joseph arranges Lily's escape to London before Woodridge can snatch Lily.
More than five years later, we find twenty-one year-old Lily in London at Covent Garden as a common thief saving the life of Viscount Sheridan ("Sherry"), Alexander Grantham. Dressed as a boy and having her dark auburn hair dyed black, Lily takes a shiv in her side instead. Before Sherry can react, three boys haul Lily off while Sherry escapes unscathed. When Lily's condition deteriorates, the three boys ("scoundrels" as they're affectionately referred to) come to Sherry's home for succor. Sherry spares no expense enlisting a physician's aid to bring Lily back to health. Sherry himself cares for Lily and takes up vigil by her bedside for many nights.
In the process, Sherry comes to care for the three orphaned children ("scoundrels") as they never leave Lily's side either. A SEASON TO BE SINFUL features the scoundrels quite a bit in humorous subplots. In fact, I'd say the scoundrels Pinch, Dash and Midge overshadowed every plot and character in the book except for Lily.
As Sherry and Lily spend more time together, Sherry discovers more about the incident back at Covent Garden when Lily saves him. Sherry also glimpses into Lily's very dark and tortured past, as she reacts violently to many seemingly innocuous things. Despite Lily's attempts to prompt him into throwing her out and taking on the children into his household, Sherry begins to care for Lily and the children quite a bit. With everyone's permission, Sherry whisks everyone away to his far-away seat at Granville and has Lily teach the children as a proper governess. Sherry doesn't do anything without their permission of course even if it for their own good. Lily agrees on the condition that she's allowed to leave whenever she wishes, no questions asked.
While Sherry and Lily rendezvous more and more intimately, Lily also reveals more of her tortured past and what happened to her the 5 years between leaving the abbey in France and saving Sherry in London. I realize Lily's reservations and trust issues, but I still thought it took too long for Lily to trust Sherry as Sherry regales her with his affections and words of love.
The various threads of intrigue all come together and it seemed like every thing and everyone is interconnected, and the attempt on Sherry's life in London was no coincidence. Sherry's clandestine confederacy under the English Crown, Lily's parentage, Lily's wounded soul, Lily's secret history, her running, Woodridge, France, Nopolean, the scoundrels, and Sherry's godmother the Lady Georgia Pendelton, Countess of Rivendale, all come to a head. That was all good. What wasn't good was Sherry's contrived end-game delivering them from the villain Woodridge. As I mentioned before, it showed Sherry's complete lack of sense and intelligence. It also highlighted Sherry's apathy for the harm inflicted upon the woman he loves. A veritable ruse of an ending concocted to have Lily and the children play their dangerous parts, parts Sherry's negligence and provincial mind sanctions.
Ah, good writing, intriguing plots, and for the most part, mature characterizations completely ruined by a dumb ending and the hero's lack of foresight.
Friday, August 3, 2007
The Winter King, by Bernard Cornwell [3]
***/***** (3/5)
The Warlord Chronicles (an Arthurian tale)
1. The Winter King
2. Enemy of God
3. Excalibur
"And then the horn sounded. The horn gave a clear, cold note like none I had ever heard before. There was a purity to that horn, a chill hard purity like nothing else on all earth. It sounded once, it sounded twice...It was as though a new bright sun had risen on that dying day. The light slashed over the pastures, blinding us, confusing us, but then the light slid on and I saw it was merely the reflection of the real sun glancing from a shield polished bright as a mirror. But that shield was held by such a man as I had never seen before; a man magnificent, a man lifted high on a great horse and men, armored men, men sprung from the dreams of the Gods to come to this murderous field, and over the men's plumed heads there floated a banner I would come to love more than any banner on all God's earth. It was the banner of the bear. The horn sounded a third time, and suddenly I knew I would live, and I was weeping for joy and all our spearmen were half crying and half shouting and the earth was shuddering with the hooves of those Godlike men who were riding to our rescue.
For Arthur, at last, had come."
Like the one above, this version of the Arthurian legend really has its fun moments. For example, Arthur's majestic arrival outside Caer Cadarn so reminiscent of Rohan's arrival at Gondor in THE LORD OF THE RINGS. Arthur's duel against Dumnonia's brutish champion Owain, and finally Merlin's dramatic entrance into the novel as an ugly hunchback transforms into the wise man erecting to his full height.
THE WINTER KING is the first book in a completed Arthurian trilogy dubbed the Warlord Chronicles (ENEMY OF GOD and EXCALIBUR finishing the tale). Overall, I enjoyed this one, and I'll read the other two at some point down the line.
This book is written in the first-person and I'm impressed by Bernard Cornwell's research. In his Author's note at the very end of THE WINTER KING, Cornwell references all relevant Arthurian sources, recognizes their lack, and comments, "The Winter King is, then, a tale of the Dark Ages in which legend and imagination must compensate for the dearth of historical records. About the only thing of which we can be fairly certain is the broad historical background: a Britain in which Roman towns, Roman roads, Roman villas and some Roman manners are still present, but also a Britain fast being destroyed by invasion and civil strife [and religious upheaval]." THE WINTER KING specifically refers to the child (Mordred), heir of the powerful Britain province of Dumnonia. Mordred's bastard brother Arthur pledges to protect Dumnonia for Mordred after their father the High King of Britain Uther dies.
Our narrator Derfel's provenance stems from humble roots, born a Saxon slave and thrown in a death pit as an offering to the pagan gods when he's just a babe. As the lone survivor of the pit however, the pagan druid Merlin later finds Derfel and brings him over to his sanctuary at the Tor. Saxon-born Derfel grows up Briton at the Tor, along with Nimue, a young girl only a couple older than Derfel. Derfel and Nimue form a bond sealed by a scar and their adventures very much parallel Arthur and Merlin's. The magic in the novel is based more on superstition and trickery than real magic. THE WINTER KING follows Derfel's life journey from a young babe as Merlin's ward to one of Arthur's sworn warriors. There's much war, much death, much political turmoil and most of all, as Derfel shrewdly comments at one point, it's a story which shakes and trembles on the strength two loves; that is, Arthur's selfish love for Guinevere and Derfel's courtly love for Ceinwyn.
"Anger and selfishness, those are the qualities that make the world march." --Merlin from Cornwell's THE WINTER KING
THE WINTER KING contains many tragic themes, melancholy overtones and a very gritty, yet sadly romantic look at Arthur's tale sure to appeal to guys. I would have liked it more if the entire book wasn't a flashback and the writing didn't teem with an overwhelming melancholy. There's a lot of sorrow, a lot of regret, a lot of lugubrious tones. For example, Arthur's mistress Ailleann is a slave who bore him spoiled twin sons. Ailleann probably understands and loves Arthur far more than anyone else, and yet she must in the end yield to Guinevere. You have Derfel's love for Nimue which will never know a lifetime's happiness. The overwhelming sadness of a sweet, innocent girl (Ceinwyn) rejected after a betrothal, and Arthur puts her aside in favor of Guinevere. The sinking feeling of a common soldier and a former slave (Derfel) preserving and treasuring Ceinwyn's token (a brooch) as a symbol of his impossible, courtly love for her, a love which "[turns Derfel's] blood to smoke." Derfel will give up his prized sword, his clothes, everything, but he will not forsake Ceinwyn's common token.
Whenever we revert to the present at the beginning of each part, we're reminded of our narrator's dour condition, of dreams unfulfilled, of friends lost and long dead, and most strident of all, of loves torn apart in the face of an inexorable Time. It is the Dark Ages for Britain, and Cornwell impresses the darkness upon readers with a melancholy brutality. It's hard to get behind any "side" or character in this novel, Cornwell intelligently postures arguments and counter arguments, skillfully accounts for noble, honorable views and convincingly lays out opposing point of views. For example, the Powys druid Iorweth's skepticism why the gods should care when Merlin believes that if we shout loud enough, the gods will intercede to help our goals. I came to sympathize with King Gorfyddyd of Powys's grievances with Arthur after Arthur rejects his betrothal to the Powys princess in favor of Guinevere. Besides our narrator Derfel and in spite of the fact that he's bound to Arthur, I didn't like Arthur's character, his lunacy and stupidity had me rooting for Arthur's death, and obviously Cornwell's twist on Lancelot had me detesting both Lancelot and Guinevere. The pagan druids Merlin and Nimue are in many ways worse, and there's little cause to root for their callous goals of a purely pagan Britain ruled only by the old gods. But then again, THE WINTER KING emphasizes that the benefit of a greater whole sometimes mandates a cold detachment and sacrifice of individuals.
Almost sadly, Ailleann (Arthur's mistress before Guinevere) recognizes what burns inside Arthur: the twin chariots of Ambition and Conscience, noting how his Ambition will tug the Conscience along, but after he wins, his Conscience will catch up, subduing him to a forgiveness when a cold retribution would serve the realm as a whole best. Ailleann perspicaciously observes how Arthur will never know peace because of his forgiving nature. Ah, if only Arthur could be content with Ailleann. But alas, Ailleann is a slave, and Arthur's Ambition will always drive him to bigger and greater things.
In spite of all this melancholy, political turmoil, and religious upheaval, THE WINTER KING manages to grip and captivate. Its clutches are difficult to break once you really get going, though it helps to read a lighter book at the same time if you don't like dark, whining tones. There's enough battles and fighting here to enjoy the novel though, and the book tempers its retrospective melancholy with engaging writing, vivid settings, captivating historical backdrops and best of all, battles galore. Fortunately, unlike Dianora's chapters Kay's TIGANA, THE WINTER KING doesn't dwell on a sorrowful, emotional angst.
The book portrays a challenging, defiant Guinevere inveigling Arthur as the most cataclysmic act in the story. Guinevere snaring Arthur incites a bloody, warring time and decimates Arthur's dream of a united Britain. As we're plainly told by narrator Derfel more than once, the impact of Guinevere ensnaring Arthur into marriage when he was betrothed to another in a political alliance, was severe and the results bloody. Rivers ran red, thousands warred and died, and turmoil reigned. Then again, without Guinevere, we wouldn't have a story.
Derfel's rise as one of Arthur's most capable warriors represents one of the more triumphant plots, and his courtly love for the Powys Princess Ceinwyn was moving. Recall Ceinwyn was the Princess Arthur shunned in favor of Guinevere thereby also destroying any chance of a political alliance and a united Britain.
"And there...was Ceinwyn. I [Derfel] had wanted to see her again...I had not come to Caer Sws to make peace, but to see Ceinwyn's face again, and now...I saw her. The years had not changed her. Her face was as sweet, her manner as demure, her hair as bright and her smile as lovely.
'My Lord Gundleus,' [Ceinwyn] said softly, 'demanded my hand [in marriage] as the price of his army in this coming war.' 'Then his army, Lady,' I said, 'is the most valuable in Britain.'
Although the moments of romance are few and far in between, the courtly love our narrator Derfel feels for Princess Ceinwyn of Powys beats with an unsurpassed, profound affection. The combination of Derfel's down-to-earth, grounded forbearance and Ceinwyn's sweet, smiling character together in one room muted all other happenings when they first talk over 350 pages into the novel. It's sad, it's heartfelt, and it's more like the Lancelot-Guinevere romantic stories than that pairing ever was.
"I looked at [Ceinwyn] and told myself that I was not in love with her and that her brooch was a talisman snatched randomly from chance. I told myself that she was a Princess and I the son of a slave... 'Do you understand that madness [love]?' she asked me. I was aware of nothing in the room except Ceinwyn...I was aware only of Ceinwyn's large sad eyes and of my own beating heart. 'I do understand that you can look into someone's eyes,' I heard myself saying, 'and suddenly know that life will be impossible without them. Know that their voice can make your heart miss a beat and that their company is all your happiness can ever desire and that their absence will leave your soul alone, bereft and lost.' She said nothing for a while, but just looked at me with a slightly puzzled expression. 'Has that ever happened to you, Lord Derfel?' she asked at last. I hesitated. I knew the words my soul wanted to say and I knew the words my station should make me say, but then I told myself that a warrior did not thrive on timidity and I let my soul have government of my tongue. 'It has never happened until this moment, Lady,' I said. It took more bravery to make that declaration than I had ever needed [in battle]."
The book ends on a triumphant note, but it's edged with a foreboding sadness. It's also very exhilarating and entertaining as Derfel magnificently holds the shield-wall.
The Warlord Chronicles (an Arthurian tale)
1. The Winter King
2. Enemy of God
3. Excalibur
"And then the horn sounded. The horn gave a clear, cold note like none I had ever heard before. There was a purity to that horn, a chill hard purity like nothing else on all earth. It sounded once, it sounded twice...It was as though a new bright sun had risen on that dying day. The light slashed over the pastures, blinding us, confusing us, but then the light slid on and I saw it was merely the reflection of the real sun glancing from a shield polished bright as a mirror. But that shield was held by such a man as I had never seen before; a man magnificent, a man lifted high on a great horse and men, armored men, men sprung from the dreams of the Gods to come to this murderous field, and over the men's plumed heads there floated a banner I would come to love more than any banner on all God's earth. It was the banner of the bear. The horn sounded a third time, and suddenly I knew I would live, and I was weeping for joy and all our spearmen were half crying and half shouting and the earth was shuddering with the hooves of those Godlike men who were riding to our rescue.
For Arthur, at last, had come."
Like the one above, this version of the Arthurian legend really has its fun moments. For example, Arthur's majestic arrival outside Caer Cadarn so reminiscent of Rohan's arrival at Gondor in THE LORD OF THE RINGS. Arthur's duel against Dumnonia's brutish champion Owain, and finally Merlin's dramatic entrance into the novel as an ugly hunchback transforms into the wise man erecting to his full height.
THE WINTER KING is the first book in a completed Arthurian trilogy dubbed the Warlord Chronicles (ENEMY OF GOD and EXCALIBUR finishing the tale). Overall, I enjoyed this one, and I'll read the other two at some point down the line.
This book is written in the first-person and I'm impressed by Bernard Cornwell's research. In his Author's note at the very end of THE WINTER KING, Cornwell references all relevant Arthurian sources, recognizes their lack, and comments, "The Winter King is, then, a tale of the Dark Ages in which legend and imagination must compensate for the dearth of historical records. About the only thing of which we can be fairly certain is the broad historical background: a Britain in which Roman towns, Roman roads, Roman villas and some Roman manners are still present, but also a Britain fast being destroyed by invasion and civil strife [and religious upheaval]." THE WINTER KING specifically refers to the child (Mordred), heir of the powerful Britain province of Dumnonia. Mordred's bastard brother Arthur pledges to protect Dumnonia for Mordred after their father the High King of Britain Uther dies.
Our narrator Derfel's provenance stems from humble roots, born a Saxon slave and thrown in a death pit as an offering to the pagan gods when he's just a babe. As the lone survivor of the pit however, the pagan druid Merlin later finds Derfel and brings him over to his sanctuary at the Tor. Saxon-born Derfel grows up Briton at the Tor, along with Nimue, a young girl only a couple older than Derfel. Derfel and Nimue form a bond sealed by a scar and their adventures very much parallel Arthur and Merlin's. The magic in the novel is based more on superstition and trickery than real magic. THE WINTER KING follows Derfel's life journey from a young babe as Merlin's ward to one of Arthur's sworn warriors. There's much war, much death, much political turmoil and most of all, as Derfel shrewdly comments at one point, it's a story which shakes and trembles on the strength two loves; that is, Arthur's selfish love for Guinevere and Derfel's courtly love for Ceinwyn.
"Anger and selfishness, those are the qualities that make the world march." --Merlin from Cornwell's THE WINTER KING
THE WINTER KING contains many tragic themes, melancholy overtones and a very gritty, yet sadly romantic look at Arthur's tale sure to appeal to guys. I would have liked it more if the entire book wasn't a flashback and the writing didn't teem with an overwhelming melancholy. There's a lot of sorrow, a lot of regret, a lot of lugubrious tones. For example, Arthur's mistress Ailleann is a slave who bore him spoiled twin sons. Ailleann probably understands and loves Arthur far more than anyone else, and yet she must in the end yield to Guinevere. You have Derfel's love for Nimue which will never know a lifetime's happiness. The overwhelming sadness of a sweet, innocent girl (Ceinwyn) rejected after a betrothal, and Arthur puts her aside in favor of Guinevere. The sinking feeling of a common soldier and a former slave (Derfel) preserving and treasuring Ceinwyn's token (a brooch) as a symbol of his impossible, courtly love for her, a love which "[turns Derfel's] blood to smoke." Derfel will give up his prized sword, his clothes, everything, but he will not forsake Ceinwyn's common token.
Whenever we revert to the present at the beginning of each part, we're reminded of our narrator's dour condition, of dreams unfulfilled, of friends lost and long dead, and most strident of all, of loves torn apart in the face of an inexorable Time. It is the Dark Ages for Britain, and Cornwell impresses the darkness upon readers with a melancholy brutality. It's hard to get behind any "side" or character in this novel, Cornwell intelligently postures arguments and counter arguments, skillfully accounts for noble, honorable views and convincingly lays out opposing point of views. For example, the Powys druid Iorweth's skepticism why the gods should care when Merlin believes that if we shout loud enough, the gods will intercede to help our goals. I came to sympathize with King Gorfyddyd of Powys's grievances with Arthur after Arthur rejects his betrothal to the Powys princess in favor of Guinevere. Besides our narrator Derfel and in spite of the fact that he's bound to Arthur, I didn't like Arthur's character, his lunacy and stupidity had me rooting for Arthur's death, and obviously Cornwell's twist on Lancelot had me detesting both Lancelot and Guinevere. The pagan druids Merlin and Nimue are in many ways worse, and there's little cause to root for their callous goals of a purely pagan Britain ruled only by the old gods. But then again, THE WINTER KING emphasizes that the benefit of a greater whole sometimes mandates a cold detachment and sacrifice of individuals.
Almost sadly, Ailleann (Arthur's mistress before Guinevere) recognizes what burns inside Arthur: the twin chariots of Ambition and Conscience, noting how his Ambition will tug the Conscience along, but after he wins, his Conscience will catch up, subduing him to a forgiveness when a cold retribution would serve the realm as a whole best. Ailleann perspicaciously observes how Arthur will never know peace because of his forgiving nature. Ah, if only Arthur could be content with Ailleann. But alas, Ailleann is a slave, and Arthur's Ambition will always drive him to bigger and greater things.
In spite of all this melancholy, political turmoil, and religious upheaval, THE WINTER KING manages to grip and captivate. Its clutches are difficult to break once you really get going, though it helps to read a lighter book at the same time if you don't like dark, whining tones. There's enough battles and fighting here to enjoy the novel though, and the book tempers its retrospective melancholy with engaging writing, vivid settings, captivating historical backdrops and best of all, battles galore. Fortunately, unlike Dianora's chapters Kay's TIGANA, THE WINTER KING doesn't dwell on a sorrowful, emotional angst.
The book portrays a challenging, defiant Guinevere inveigling Arthur as the most cataclysmic act in the story. Guinevere snaring Arthur incites a bloody, warring time and decimates Arthur's dream of a united Britain. As we're plainly told by narrator Derfel more than once, the impact of Guinevere ensnaring Arthur into marriage when he was betrothed to another in a political alliance, was severe and the results bloody. Rivers ran red, thousands warred and died, and turmoil reigned. Then again, without Guinevere, we wouldn't have a story.
Derfel's rise as one of Arthur's most capable warriors represents one of the more triumphant plots, and his courtly love for the Powys Princess Ceinwyn was moving. Recall Ceinwyn was the Princess Arthur shunned in favor of Guinevere thereby also destroying any chance of a political alliance and a united Britain.
"And there...was Ceinwyn. I [Derfel] had wanted to see her again...I had not come to Caer Sws to make peace, but to see Ceinwyn's face again, and now...I saw her. The years had not changed her. Her face was as sweet, her manner as demure, her hair as bright and her smile as lovely.
'My Lord Gundleus,' [Ceinwyn] said softly, 'demanded my hand [in marriage] as the price of his army in this coming war.' 'Then his army, Lady,' I said, 'is the most valuable in Britain.'
Although the moments of romance are few and far in between, the courtly love our narrator Derfel feels for Princess Ceinwyn of Powys beats with an unsurpassed, profound affection. The combination of Derfel's down-to-earth, grounded forbearance and Ceinwyn's sweet, smiling character together in one room muted all other happenings when they first talk over 350 pages into the novel. It's sad, it's heartfelt, and it's more like the Lancelot-Guinevere romantic stories than that pairing ever was.
"I looked at [Ceinwyn] and told myself that I was not in love with her and that her brooch was a talisman snatched randomly from chance. I told myself that she was a Princess and I the son of a slave... 'Do you understand that madness [love]?' she asked me. I was aware of nothing in the room except Ceinwyn...I was aware only of Ceinwyn's large sad eyes and of my own beating heart. 'I do understand that you can look into someone's eyes,' I heard myself saying, 'and suddenly know that life will be impossible without them. Know that their voice can make your heart miss a beat and that their company is all your happiness can ever desire and that their absence will leave your soul alone, bereft and lost.' She said nothing for a while, but just looked at me with a slightly puzzled expression. 'Has that ever happened to you, Lord Derfel?' she asked at last. I hesitated. I knew the words my soul wanted to say and I knew the words my station should make me say, but then I told myself that a warrior did not thrive on timidity and I let my soul have government of my tongue. 'It has never happened until this moment, Lady,' I said. It took more bravery to make that declaration than I had ever needed [in battle]."
The book ends on a triumphant note, but it's edged with a foreboding sadness. It's also very exhilarating and entertaining as Derfel magnificently holds the shield-wall.
Wednesday, August 1, 2007
The Night Drifter, by Susan Carroll [0]
/***** (0/5)
10/10 on the chick-lit meter (strictly for girls)
NIGHT DRIFTER showcases a grinding, all-too-familiar portrayal of the near-virgin heroine Rosalind restoring the tortured, disillusioned libertine his soul. A true and tried formula and I just don't enjoy Saving-the-hero's-tortured-soul routines, and this one is especially bad because of the atrocious plotting and characters. We also have a woman "betraying" Lance when he's young consequently embittering him and of course once he shares this tormenting story with Rosalind, "Rosalind's heart [predictably] ached for him." The book further indulges in the insecurities of the ordinary-looking heroine's appearance when it isn't noting Lance's perfect Adonis looks or his pining introspection over Rosalind, or his tormented past. I've read all this before a million times except in much better contexts. Most of the time, I found Carroll's writing very crass. Twinkle in the eye = joking. Pointless, repetitive banter or introspection always seemed to last 4-5 pages too long.
Our heroine Rosalind apparently restores her hero libertine Lance's lost sense of honor, lost love and lost dreams. Susan Carroll writes from her libertine Lance's perspective specifically to accentuate Lance's maidenly pining for Rosalind. I wanted to shoot myself, I wanted to tear my eyes out -- literally. Although Cornwell's THE WINTER KING is melancholy, at least I had something to read alongside this book.
I'm not sure if I had the misfortune to pick up the one Susan Carroll novel containing the most trite characterizations or if her every novel features these romance characterization stereotypes. THE NIGHT DRIFTER drowns in stereotypical facades of its perfectly handsome, libertine hero falling for his ordinary-looking, near-virginal heroine. We're reminded of Lance's debauched, seducing talents or his handsome looks at almost every turn. Even after their first time, they discuss Lance's experiences with other women. I'm not sure who Carroll is trying to convince because there's no chemistry between the hero and heroine. All of these references to Lance's rakehell, libertine ways come across as some desperate plea to the reader since all evidence in the book paints Lance in one of the more girly lights I've ever seen in romance novels.
Susan Carroll goes out of her way to describe her hero's Lance perfectly handsome countenance from the heroine's perspective while portraying the heroine as "not beautiful" from the hero's perspective. Obviously, that doesn't detract our libertine hero from desiring Rosalind. Nothing remotely different here. Most romance authors are reluctant to deviate from these proven character formulas to cater to their female readership. The problem arises when the novel fails to rise above these characterization archetypes as THE NIGHT DRIFTER miserably fails to do so. THE NIGHT DRIFTER's Lance essays an abject character study on a girl's girlish hero with every sleeping and waking thought centered around the heroine.
Susan Carroll allows her heroine Rosalind to swoon over Lance's muscles constantly yet Carroll won't allow her hero Lance to fall prey to anything so shallow as Rosalind's breasts or butt. No, no, no our libertine Lance is enamored with Rosalind's eyes and hair of course! Rosalind is fairly ordinary looking so god forbid having Lance use the word "beautiful" to describe the woman he's attracted to. Nope, instead Lance says, "it's a face a man is destined to remember forever." Too funny. Too ridiculously girly.
Reading Carroll's Lance in THE NIGHT DRIFTER, I'm acutely aware that this book is exclusively for girls, that it's written by a female author. It's entirely possible I don't understand Carroll's Lance but quite frankly I don't want to.
After marriage, Rosalind continues to bestow her heart and her heart's desires to Lance's ghost she believes as Sir Lancelot during nights while growing to understand Lance's tortured soul during the day. Not exactly a betrayal since Rosalind tells Lance before the marriage that her heart will always belong to another (Sir Lancelot's ghost), but it was difficult to read, and to me, opposite of romantic. Rosalind is pretty dumb too. Rosalind reveals all of her heart's desires to the ghost of Sir Lancelot during the night (getting a puppy, visiting a locale, etc.), and she finds Lance fulfills all of her wishes during the day. Both the ghost and the real man bear an uncanny resemblance. The gallant ghost and the rakehell man also tend to revert to mannerisms and speech that overlap. Yet Rosalind suspects nothing at all, and attributes the peculiar parallels to coincidences. She continues to love the ghost and live a chaste marriage bereft of passion or chemistry with the man.
Have I mentioned the book lacks any interesting plotting yet? Well along with lacking any chemistry whatsoever, the book mostly consists of overlong conversations between Sir Lancelot the ghost and Rosalind. The goal being to transform the rakehell libertine into the gallant, noble Sir Lancelot since Lance is loathe to part Rosalind with her love for the ghost of Sir Lancelot. It was all very lame, and often, unreadable.
Along with drowning in horrible characterizations, there's also a fetish here to embroil the hero in a game of Jekyll and Hyde, making his profligate libertine self jealous of his own noble, honorable ghost. Rosalind falls for the noble ghost Sir Lancelot who's really Lance, and of course it serves as an idiotic plot device to have the rakish libertine reform his degenerate, scoundrel ways and strive to be the noble Sir Lancelot in actuality.
There's a side plot having to do with a family rivalry (St. Legers vs. Mortmain) and smuggling. It's all a hodge podge of nonsense.
Like other paranormal romances, THE NIGHT DRIFTER sinks in the requisite elements we often find in paranormal romances. That is, a horribly lazy soul mate plot device providing an excuse to bring our leading pair together, the tortured, brooding handsome hero, the hero recognizing the "need" to be with his heroine well before his heroine, the heroine very reluctant to reciprocate and resisting for the majority of the book, the hero pining incessantly (THE NIGHT DRIFTER showcases one of the more painfully "heroic" pining I've come across in romance novels), et cetera, et cetera, you get the point. THE NIGHT DRIFTER even blames the "passion" Lance & Rosalind share on the St. Leger legend. Lance notes, "it isn't your fault at all. If you are my destined bride, you are not going to be able to help yourself."
10/10 on the chick-lit meter (strictly for girls)
NIGHT DRIFTER showcases a grinding, all-too-familiar portrayal of the near-virgin heroine Rosalind restoring the tortured, disillusioned libertine his soul. A true and tried formula and I just don't enjoy Saving-the-hero's-tortured-soul routines, and this one is especially bad because of the atrocious plotting and characters. We also have a woman "betraying" Lance when he's young consequently embittering him and of course once he shares this tormenting story with Rosalind, "Rosalind's heart [predictably] ached for him." The book further indulges in the insecurities of the ordinary-looking heroine's appearance when it isn't noting Lance's perfect Adonis looks or his pining introspection over Rosalind, or his tormented past. I've read all this before a million times except in much better contexts. Most of the time, I found Carroll's writing very crass. Twinkle in the eye = joking. Pointless, repetitive banter or introspection always seemed to last 4-5 pages too long.
Our heroine Rosalind apparently restores her hero libertine Lance's lost sense of honor, lost love and lost dreams. Susan Carroll writes from her libertine Lance's perspective specifically to accentuate Lance's maidenly pining for Rosalind. I wanted to shoot myself, I wanted to tear my eyes out -- literally. Although Cornwell's THE WINTER KING is melancholy, at least I had something to read alongside this book.
I'm not sure if I had the misfortune to pick up the one Susan Carroll novel containing the most trite characterizations or if her every novel features these romance characterization stereotypes. THE NIGHT DRIFTER drowns in stereotypical facades of its perfectly handsome, libertine hero falling for his ordinary-looking, near-virginal heroine. We're reminded of Lance's debauched, seducing talents or his handsome looks at almost every turn. Even after their first time, they discuss Lance's experiences with other women. I'm not sure who Carroll is trying to convince because there's no chemistry between the hero and heroine. All of these references to Lance's rakehell, libertine ways come across as some desperate plea to the reader since all evidence in the book paints Lance in one of the more girly lights I've ever seen in romance novels.
Susan Carroll goes out of her way to describe her hero's Lance perfectly handsome countenance from the heroine's perspective while portraying the heroine as "not beautiful" from the hero's perspective. Obviously, that doesn't detract our libertine hero from desiring Rosalind. Nothing remotely different here. Most romance authors are reluctant to deviate from these proven character formulas to cater to their female readership. The problem arises when the novel fails to rise above these characterization archetypes as THE NIGHT DRIFTER miserably fails to do so. THE NIGHT DRIFTER's Lance essays an abject character study on a girl's girlish hero with every sleeping and waking thought centered around the heroine.
Susan Carroll allows her heroine Rosalind to swoon over Lance's muscles constantly yet Carroll won't allow her hero Lance to fall prey to anything so shallow as Rosalind's breasts or butt. No, no, no our libertine Lance is enamored with Rosalind's eyes and hair of course! Rosalind is fairly ordinary looking so god forbid having Lance use the word "beautiful" to describe the woman he's attracted to. Nope, instead Lance says, "it's a face a man is destined to remember forever." Too funny. Too ridiculously girly.
Reading Carroll's Lance in THE NIGHT DRIFTER, I'm acutely aware that this book is exclusively for girls, that it's written by a female author. It's entirely possible I don't understand Carroll's Lance but quite frankly I don't want to.
After marriage, Rosalind continues to bestow her heart and her heart's desires to Lance's ghost she believes as Sir Lancelot during nights while growing to understand Lance's tortured soul during the day. Not exactly a betrayal since Rosalind tells Lance before the marriage that her heart will always belong to another (Sir Lancelot's ghost), but it was difficult to read, and to me, opposite of romantic. Rosalind is pretty dumb too. Rosalind reveals all of her heart's desires to the ghost of Sir Lancelot during the night (getting a puppy, visiting a locale, etc.), and she finds Lance fulfills all of her wishes during the day. Both the ghost and the real man bear an uncanny resemblance. The gallant ghost and the rakehell man also tend to revert to mannerisms and speech that overlap. Yet Rosalind suspects nothing at all, and attributes the peculiar parallels to coincidences. She continues to love the ghost and live a chaste marriage bereft of passion or chemistry with the man.
Have I mentioned the book lacks any interesting plotting yet? Well along with lacking any chemistry whatsoever, the book mostly consists of overlong conversations between Sir Lancelot the ghost and Rosalind. The goal being to transform the rakehell libertine into the gallant, noble Sir Lancelot since Lance is loathe to part Rosalind with her love for the ghost of Sir Lancelot. It was all very lame, and often, unreadable.
Along with drowning in horrible characterizations, there's also a fetish here to embroil the hero in a game of Jekyll and Hyde, making his profligate libertine self jealous of his own noble, honorable ghost. Rosalind falls for the noble ghost Sir Lancelot who's really Lance, and of course it serves as an idiotic plot device to have the rakish libertine reform his degenerate, scoundrel ways and strive to be the noble Sir Lancelot in actuality.
There's a side plot having to do with a family rivalry (St. Legers vs. Mortmain) and smuggling. It's all a hodge podge of nonsense.
Like other paranormal romances, THE NIGHT DRIFTER sinks in the requisite elements we often find in paranormal romances. That is, a horribly lazy soul mate plot device providing an excuse to bring our leading pair together, the tortured, brooding handsome hero, the hero recognizing the "need" to be with his heroine well before his heroine, the heroine very reluctant to reciprocate and resisting for the majority of the book, the hero pining incessantly (THE NIGHT DRIFTER showcases one of the more painfully "heroic" pining I've come across in romance novels), et cetera, et cetera, you get the point. THE NIGHT DRIFTER even blames the "passion" Lance & Rosalind share on the St. Leger legend. Lance notes, "it isn't your fault at all. If you are my destined bride, you are not going to be able to help yourself."
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