Showing posts with label Anne Stuart. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Anne Stuart. Show all posts

Monday, July 02, 2007

The Unfortunate Miss Fortunes





Jennifer Crusie posted recently on her blog Argh Ink that fifty copies of The Unfortunate Miss Fortunes were being given away to people who promised to review them on their blogs. So I sent in my name and this blog and about a week later received a wonderful envelope from Saint Martin's Press in the mail, so here I am, reviewing the book.

Except, well, I'm a literary critic, not a book reviewer. So there's going to be more analysis than review, although I guess the two overlap here and there. But do watch out for some spoilers.

Links to reviews can be found here on the UMF website blog and an excerpt is here.

The premise of the novel's construction is that it's one novel (NOT an anthology, but a full-length novel) written by three authors, Jennifer Crusie, Eileen Dreyer, and Anne Stuart. Each author wrote one of the sisters' stories (like Crusie's collaboration with Bob Mayer, in which she writes all the scenes from the womens' perspective, and he writes all those from the mens' perspectives), and the three story-lines were interwoven into one master narrative. Dreyer wrote the scenes from the perspective of Dee, the oldest sister, and (I assume) Danny, Dee's hero. Stuart wrote those from the perspective of Lizzie, the middle sister, and her hero, Elric. Crusie wrote the scenes of Mare and her hero, Crash. I've never read Stuart or Dreyer before, but I certainly recognized Crusie's signature writing style in Mare's scenes. There are also the scenes of the sisters' aunt, Xantippe and her "evil minions" Maxine and Jude. I don't know who wrote those or if they were pure collaboration.

For a Crusie novel, this cast of nine characters (with a few extra very minor characters like a discarded fiance, Mare's boss and co-worker, and a waitress making it thirteen) is actually pretty small. Crusie has said that her normal cast of characters averages about seventeen characters. So compared to her other books, it was easy to tell the characters apart and to understand their relations to each other (unlike Fast Women when I had to draw a family tree to figure things out). On the other hand, with three main love stories in 391 pages, every single page counted and you had to pay very close and strict attention to every scene. You couldn't take a break and skim through the scenes of secondary character interaction, as I know I sometimes do, because there were no scenes of purely secondary character interaction. It's a book that's much better read in one or two sittings (and easily done) rather than trying to read it with too many interruptions, because there is so much symbolism, so much to keep track of (magic: Dee's is green smoke, Lizzie's is purple fog, Mare's is blue sparks) from scene to scene that it's better to try to do it all at once. In a house with five children, one pregnancy, two dogs, and a husband home for the summer, I didn't manage that "no interruptions" thing, so I got confused now and then. For example, Mare and Crash separate for a short time in the time scale, but a long time narratively, and then pick up their conversation almost exactly where they left off, and I had to flip back a long way to figure out exactly when and where they did leave off, because there had been too much story piled in between their two meetings for ME to keep track of (others might not have the same problem).

The time scale of the book (48 hours) and the consequent speed of the romances didn't bother me as it does in some books, especially paranormal ones in which the characters are each others' One True Love, like they are in this book. The magic that brought the couples together was such a strong part of the narrative that it was very believable to me that two of the three couples would fall in irrevocable love in two days (Mare and Crash had a history) and I could absolutely believe in their Happily Ever After, despite the packed nature of the narrative. I also believed in the character transformation and growth of all six of the main characters (except maybe for Elric, Lizzie's hero, but he was too delicious to care much that he didn't change a lot), which was refreshing and unexpected for such a relatively short examination of each couple individually (as in, each couple probably received the length of a novella for their story). The motivation of the villain wasn't just that she was evil and nasty. She was evil but vulnerable in a way that was totally believable and actually made you sympathize with her now and then, which was also refreshing.

What fascinated me about the book was the interweaving of the characters' story-lines and the differences between the placing and pacing of the eight elements of a romance. As I mentioned in my previous post, "Pamela Regis has brilliantly delineated the eight necessary narrative events that make a romance a romance: society defined, the meeting, the barrier, the attraction, the declaration, the point of ritual death, the recognition, the betrothal." (For clarification, the recognition represents "the new information that will overcome the barrier" [Regis 36], and the betrothal represents the characters' commitment to a happy future together, rather than just a legal marriage, so marriage of convenience plots still have a betrothal scene at the end, even though the characters are already married.) There's also the optional elements of the scapegoat exiled, bad characters turned to good, and the wedding/dance/fete representing the happy union. Each of the elements, and any or all (or none) of the optional elements, can be depicted in any order, together or separate. For example, the meeting and the attraction often happen together in romance novels. And the general consensus is that better romances locate the barrier and recognition in the characters and their relationship, rather than in external problems. So, in romantic suspense, there might be an external reason keeping the characters apart or a mystery that needs to be solved for the purpose of the larger narrative, but there also needs to be internal or inter-character conflict as well to make it a good romance novel, rather than just a good novel.

***This is where the spoilers really start, so be warned!!***

The narrative of The Unfortunate Miss Fortunes as a whole led up to the scapegoat being exiled; that is, the climax of the novel was the optional element in a romance of the showdown between the sisters and their murderous aunt, Xantippe. She was suitably "exiled" and the denouement after the showdown depicted each couple going on their way, happy and secure in their relationship with their respective hero. No weddings/dances/fetes represented the happy unions, and, to be honest, they weren't needed. Despite the time it took to locate the narrative tension in the showdown, however, each couple also had either an internal or inter-character barrier to overcome, or sometimes both: Danny didn't believe in magic and Dee couldn't have sex without shifting; Lizzie couldn't control her power but Elric quickly veered from trying to take it from her in order to keep the universe safe to teaching her how to use it properly; Mare had to overcome her feelings of abandonment by Crash because he left five years ago as well as her own feelings of inadequacy. The weaving of the conflicts, internal, inter-character, and external, was brilliant. If I were doing a more in-depth analysis, I'd have to draw a chart detailing the elements of the romance and in what order they occured for each character and each couple and when in the narrative they occured in relation to the other story-lines. This is probably what Crusie, Dreyer, and Stuart had to do (I didn't read the blog, so I'm not sure), and, excuse my language, but must have been a bitch to accomplish. But Crusie, Dreyer, and Stuart absolutely managed it. It's a brilliantly plotted book and, while being dense, the story-lines work almost seamlessly together.

For example, interestingly, the first sister to receive a declaration was the last to achieve her recognition. Mare and Crash admit their love for each other almost immediately, but Mare is left (or leaves herself--it's just ever so slightly contrived) in suspense about Crash's true motives for finally coming to find her until the denouement. Both Dee and Lizzie, on the other hand, get their declaration of love from their heroes much later than Mare does, but are both secure in their hero's love and their HEA before the showdown. Dee and Danny have the most conflicts to overcome (Dee's shapeshifting, Danny's dislike of magic, Dee's feelings of responsibility for her sisters, Danny's double life), and to me, their HEA seems the most solid and real as a result because somehow they actually had time to work through it all in a realistic manner. Lizzie and Elric seemed to have the least conflict, either internal or inter-character, to get through, but there was a huge imbalance of power between Elric's magic and experience and Lizzie's lack of control and inexperience that was overturned at the end when Lizzie learned to control her enormous power, prompting Elric to say to Lizzie, "Remind me never to get you too pissed off at me" and lamenting the fact that although "I'm usually the one in control," he wasn't any more. This switch somewhat made up for the lack of conflict, but then, Lizzie and her power were the center of the external conflict with Xantippe, so less conflict between her and Elric probably made sense. This is just a sampling of the analysis that could be performed on this deftly plotted book, and I think this would be a wonderful novel to choose to do an in-depth analysis of the effect of the placement of the elements of a romance, precisely because of the interconnectedness of the narrative(s).

I have to end saying I thoroughly enjoyed the book and I'm actually looking forward to reading it again to capture the many layers of the stories, because I know I missed stuff.

Saturday, April 07, 2007

PCA/ACA Conference 2007 - cont.

Jenny Crusie's written up a summary of the second half of the romance-related panels at this conference. Apparently I'm 'mysterious'. Really, there's nothing mysterious about staying at home and writing blog posts, but in an attempt to add glamour and mystique to my image, I'm borrowing this photo. Sarah is getting an ARC of Agnes and the Hitman, and Jenny says that Eric 'was dead on target in everything he said' about her novels.

Here's the list of the romance genre sessions from the second half of the conference, as listed on the PCA website:

Romance III: Genres & Forms
Chair: Eric Selinger, DePaul University

Emailing Romance: Epistolary Form in the Modern Romance Novel
Lesa Smith, Wilfrid Laurier University

A Marriage Made in the Kitchen: Amanda Hesser’s Blend of Chick Lit and Food Memoir in Cooking for Mr. Latte
Jessica L. Van Slooten, Michigan State University

Love’s Bitch: Paranormal Romance Writers’ Love Affair with Joss Whedon
Amber Botts, Neodesha High School

Brace Yourself, Brigid O'Shaughnessy: Jennifer Crusie Romances The Maltese Falcon
Eric Selinger


Romance IV: New Approaches, Enduring Debates
Chair: Eric Selinger, DePaul University

And They Wrote Happily Ever After . . . Normative Narratology

An Goris, Katholieke Universiteit Leuven (Belgium)

An Alternate Genealogy: Reconsidering Romance Novels as Postmodern Fairy Tales
Linda Lee, University of Pennsylvania

Romance: The Perfect Creative Industry
Glen Thomas, Queensland University of Technology

The Power of the Medium

Michelle Buonfiglio, Columnist, Read Romance: B(u)y the Book


Romance V: Romance & Its Neighbors (In & Out of the Canon)
Chair: Darcy Martin, East Tennessee State University

From James Fennimore Cooper to Cassie Edwards: The Evolution of Frontier Romance
Druann Bauer, Ohio Northern University

Popularizing Feminist Theories of Heterosexual Romance: Romantic Love and Feminist Identity in Erica Jong’s Fear of Flying
Robin Payne, University of North Carolina-Chapel Hill

Revising the Family Romance: Toward a Bisexual Perversity in Narratives of Desire
Grace Sikorski, Anne Arundel Community College

Literary and Popular Erotic Romance
Robert Waxler, University of Massachusetts, Dartmouth


Romance VI: Romance Authors Special Session
Chairs: Eric Selinger, Depaul University, and Darcy Martin, East Tennessee State University

This special session, comprised of 4 award-winning, best-selling authors in the Romance genre, includes both presentations and roundtable discussion formats. The conversation should be lively, and the PCA/ACA is honored to have these authors participate in the conference.

Special Presenters:

Jenny Crusie Smith, A Book Where Everybody Knows Your Name: Community in Contemporary Romance Fiction.

Mary Bly (Eloisa James), Hostile but Useful: Adorno, Pop Music, and Popular Romance.

Special Author Discussants: Suzanne Brockman & Anne Stuart


There were also some papers about romance, or partly about romance, which were presented at other sessions:

Libraries, Archives, & Popular Culture Research IV: Ephemeral Images, Organizing Love, & the Representative Dynamics of Compressed Coinage
Chair: Allen Ellis, Northern Kentucky University

Putting Romance into the Library: Building a Collection of Genre Romance Literature in an Academic Library
Kristin Ramsdell, California State University, East Bay, and Doug Highsmith, California State University, East Bay


Mystery/Detective Fiction VIII: Cross-Genre Fiction
Chair: Kathryn Swanson, Augsburg College

Sizzling Romance and Nail-Biting Suspense: Really Not Such Strange Bedfellows!
Kathryn Swanson

[And the photo is from Wikipedia, and is of 'La Belle Otero'. About the only things we have in common are being female, and having curly hair and Spanish surnames.]

Tuesday, August 08, 2006

Of Men and Monsters

Paranormals allow us to read about characters who are extremely unusual and may be termed ‘monsters’ in the sense that they resemble humans, and are yet non-human. The Oxford English Dictionary gives a couple of definitions of ‘monster’ which are relevant here: ‘Originally: a mythical creature which is part animal and part human, or combines elements of two or more animal forms, and is frequently of great size and ferocious appearance’ and, now obsolete, ‘Something extraordinary or unnatural; an amazing event or occurrence; a prodigy, a marvel’.

There are no doubt plenty of reasons for the popularity of paranormals, including the fact that they open up new scenarios and plot possibilities, and they allow authors to world-build (and if set in a 'historical' setting they’re less likely to be termed ‘wallpaper’ historicals or, if set in the contemporary period, to be critiqued for inaccuracies, since the world depicted is clearly a fantastical one). From an academic perspective, however, the popularity of these stories emphasises two important, and interconnected, aspects of the genre.

The first is the relationship between romance and fairy/folk tales, which was discussed by Sandra not that long ago. The second is that the presence of the monster underscores the existence of those two poles of romance which were described by Northrop Frye:
We may think of our romantic, high mimetic and low mimetic modes as a series of displaced myths, mythoi or plot-formulas progressively moving over towards the opposite pole of verisimilitude, and then, with irony, beginning to move back.
Romance has always had its share of heroes who were dangerous, powerful and almost mythic in nature. In Dangerous Men and Adventurous Women, Linda Barlow and Jayne Ann Krentz wrote that
A careful analysis of the physical description in most romance novels will demonstrate that, from a large lexicon of common descriptive codes, authors consciously or unconsciously choose those that best illustrate the particular archetypes with which they are working. Heroes associated with demons, the devil, the dark gods, and vampires tend to be dark-haired, with eyes that are luminous, piercing, penetrating, fierce, fiery, and so forth. Blond heroes are less common, but there is usually a fallen-angel quality about them. (1992: 24)
In the same essay collection, Mary Jo Putney observes that,
As Jayne Ann Krentz says, the male protagonist of a romance is often both hero and villain, and the heroine’s task and triumph is to civilize him, to turn him from a marauder into a worthy mate whose formidable strength will be channeled into protecting his woman and his cubs (sorry – his children). (1992: 100-101).
Putney is referring to Jayne Ann Krentz’s observations in yet another essay in the collection:
The hero must be part villain or else he won’t be much of a challenge for a strong woman. [...] Any woman who, as a little girl, indulged herself in books featuring other little girls taming wild stallions knows instinctively what makes a romance novel work. Those much-loved tales of brave young women taming and gentling magnificent, potentially dangerous beasts are the childhood version of the adult romance novel. The thrill and satisfaction of teaching that powerful male creature to respond only to your touch [...] (Krentz 1992: 108-109)
These quotations seem to simultaneously offer (a) an explanation of why Pride and Prejudice is so much more popular than any other of Jane Austen’s works (Henry Tilney and Mr Knightley, to give just two examples, are not dangerous, brooding or threatening, while Mr Darcy’s pride and reserve may be interpreted this way), (b) suggest a reason for the profusion of heroes named Wolf, Raven* or otherwise described as moving with panther-like grace, or as being a magnificent male animal, and (c) also hint at a possible reason for the popularity of the paranormal romance.** A werewolf hero may literally end up ‘protecting his woman and his cubs’, and the teeth and power of some vampires may make them rather like some of these powerful, dangerous animals too, though the vampires of the ‘elegant and deadly’ (Stuart 1992: 85) described by Anne Stuart, with ‘his pale skin and deft, delicate hands’ is clearly closer to the spirit world, a sort of ‘fallen angel’ (Stuart 1992: 85) than an animal.

While reading the werewolf novellas on Kelley Armstrong’s website, I was reminded of romance’s links with the fairytale. As Sandra observed, ‘romance fiction employs various elements of fairy tales’, particularly that of Beauty and the Beast. We may also see a connection between fairytales and romance in the figure of the wolf/werewolf. The fairytale wolf in Little Red Riding Hood may be a fearsome creature, but he also embodies sexuality. Zipes says of the Perrault version of the tale that:
the moral tells us that young girls, who are pretty, well-bred, and courteous, should never talk to strangers or let themselves go. Otherwise, they will be swallowed by wolves. In other words, they must exercise control over their sexual and natural drives or else they will be devoured by their own sexuality in the form of a dangerous wolf. (Zipes 1991: 24).
Perrault himself is really quite explicit about this:
Moral: Children, especially attractive, well bred young ladies, should never talk to strangers, for if they should do so, they may well provide dinner for a wolf. I say "wolf," but there are various kinds of wolves. There are also those who are charming, quiet, polite, unassuming, complacent, and sweet, who pursue young women at home and in the streets. And unfortunately, it is these gentle wolves who are the most dangerous ones of all.
In many modern romances, however, the wolf and Little Red Riding Hood live happily ever after in a state of sexual fulfillment.

Vampires too are associated with sexuality:
Modern critical accounts of Dracula, for instance, almost universally agree that vampirism both expresses and distorts an originally sexual energy. That distortion, the representation of desire under the defensive mask of monstrosity, betrays the fundamental psychological ambivalence identified by Franco Moretti when he writes that “vampirism is an excellent example of the identity of desire and fear”. (Craft 1984: 107)
Paranormal romances whose heroes are vampires, werewolves or other dangerous, powerful and extremely sexual non-human (or not-quite-human) creatures are set in a fantasy world which is quite clearly signalled as fantasy. This may well be an important factor in their popularity, since the human ‘alpha male’ whom the vampire or werewolf so much resembles is still true enough to life that he may be criticised for his actions (e.g. forced seductions) and the reader may be accused of having unhealthy sexual desires. Laurie Gold at All About Romance has recently elaborated on some comments that Jill Marie Landis made to her on this issue:
In her view some of the aspects that drew many readers into reading romance initially are so politically incorrect at this point that they dare not be used any longer. So when readers crave something that's missing from their current reading, they're actually missing what they think they don't want. And that plays, in part, into the current emphasis on Paranormals...and Romantica too. [...]
Years ago, when Futuristics and Paranormals were struggling, readers complained that they were the last refuge of the Alpha hero. At this time most of the Futuristics were about space warriors, pirates, etc. [...] Then again, with historicals sounding more alike, with fewer Medieval warriors, and fewer politically incorrect, readers who missed that type of hero rediscovered them in Paranormals.
Dorothy Owens Malek says of the human alpha hero that:
We may want a caring, sensitive, modern man in our lives, but we want a swaggering, rough-hewn, mythic man in our books. He provides the best foil; the more obdurate the hero, the sweeter the triumph when the heroine brings him to his knees. [...] I’m always amused when [...] critics accuse romances of being unrealistic – talk about missing the point! Of course they’re unrealistic, that’s why we like them. (1992: 75)
and Mary Jo Putney adds that:
The theme of the man who is “saved by the love of a good woman” is common in both life and romance. In reality savior complexes are dangerous because they encourage women to stay with abusive mates [...]. What matters in a romantic context is that healing the wounded hero is a fantasy of incredible potency (1992: 101)
Put this type of 'mythic' hero, this type of fantasy, into what is clearly a world outside the norms of everyday life, however, and the danger of the reader being misunderstood is minimised. She knows, and any observer knows, that what she is reading is fantasy. She is not endorsing or accepting a dangerous ‘savior complex’ in the real world, because she is accepting this sort of behaviour only in the context of the fantasy. It may also be easier to accept the exploration of sexual fantasies in this context, because it is marked as ‘fantasy’. Just as in the past, when the sexual nature of the vampire was hidden, and the fantasy provided a safe space to explore sexual desires, so the fantasy of the man who is also a monster allows the reader to accept behaviours which she might not find quite so acceptable if depicted taking place in the real world.

-----

* I’m most certainly not the only person to have spotted this about heroes’ names. For example, Sherrie Holmes at the Word Wenches recently said that:
I’ve noticed a trend I find highly amusing: the tendency of romance writers to give super macho names to their heroes. These names frequently project the subliminal power of dark, hulking animals: Raven, Wolf, Hawk, Falcon, Lyon

** Contemporary romances make up the bulk of romance sales (according to the RWA 1,371 in 2003 and 1, 468 in 2004), but paranormal romances have seen a very significant increase from 120 in 2003 to 173 in 2004.

Bibliography

  • Barlow, Linda & Krentz, Jayne Ann, 1992. ‘Beneath the Surface: The Hidden Codes of Romance’, in Dangerous Men, pp. 15-29.
  • Craft, Christopher, 1984. ‘"Kiss Me with those Red Lips": Gender and Inversion in Bram Stoker's Dracula’, Representations, 8: 107-133.
  • Dangerous Men and Adventurous Women: Romance Writers on the Appeal of the Romance, 1992. ed. Jayne Ann Krentz (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press).
  • Krentz, Jayne Ann, 1992. ‘Trying to Tame the Romance: Critics and Correctness’, in Dangerous Men, pp. 107-114.
  • Owens Malek, 1992. ‘Mad, Bad, and Dangerous to Know: The Hero as Challenge’, in Dangerous Men, pp. 73-80.
  • Putney, Mary Jo, 1992. ‘Welcome to the Dark Side’, in Dangerous Men, pp. 99-105.
  • Stuart, Anne, 1992. ‘Legends of Seductive Elegance’, in Dangerous Men, pp. 85-88.
  • Zipes, Jack, 1991. Fairy Tales and the Art of Subversion: The Classical Genre for Children and the Process of Civilization (New York: Routledge). First published in 1983 by Heinemann Educational Books Ltd.