Ivory, Judith - Beast
Mon, Nov. 29th, 2004 07:16 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
oyceterI read this before a couple of years ago, and I wanted to reread to see if the dissatisfaction with the second half would go away in time. Alas, no.
While I really like Judith Ivory's style and the thought she puts into the characters, I've been turned off by some of her books because there's such a big power differential between the hero and the heroine. She does the sort of alpha, more sexually aware and more willful hero well and usually doesn't lapse into alpha male stupidity, but I've found that I have less and less tolerance for that unequal balance of power favoring the hero. Not really my kink anymore. (Isn't it interesting how kinks change? It used to be my kink, and then after too many bad books and a great deal of lit crit type thinking on the subject, it just stopped being my kink. Now my kink is the complete opposite. I guess it wasn't a bulletproof kink after all.) And the main thing that turns me off Beast is that power differential. I think this is the most uneven distribution of power between the hero and the heroine in all her books.
Louise Vandermeer is eighteen and gorgeous, and engaged to Charles Harcourt, a French perfume maker (and prince) who is disfigured and limps. I like how Ivory doesn't make light of Louise's beauty -- it is both a blessing and a curse, and Louise is believably ambivalent about it. I also like how Ivory doesn't cheat and make Charles' disfigurements mostly imaginary on his part. I've read books in which the hero goes on and on and on for pages about how no one will love him because he's been horribly scarred, and in the end, it turns out that the scars have mostly faded and only make him look dashing. Pah. Cheating. They are both on the same ship together crossing the Atlantic, and Charles decides to play a little trick on his bride-to-be, partly because he wants to get to know her without the impediment of his sort-of ugliness and partly out of a desire to prove he can. So he seduces her in the dark, without ever letting her see his face. Personally, this is where I really wanted to take a stick and beat him over the head, because honestly, who does stuff like this? It is, I suppose, a testament to Judith Ivory that I got through his plotting without throwing the book against a wall, which is what I normally would do.
So there's this giant power gap -- Louise is young and inexperienced, although she does have a fairly strong sense of herself. Charles is thirty-something, has a great deal of sexual experience, and he's the one who is pulling all the strings on the ship. Luckily Louise is not a bimbo, and she makes a very conscious decision to allow herself to be seduced. Alas, she falls in love with the mysterious stranger, and they must part ways once the ship docks.
The first half, detailing the seduction on the ship, is actually pretty good because it's interesting watching Louise grow and discover who she is in the dark, without her stunning looks, and she takes great pleasure in talking, in exploring. I really do like Louise as a character. She's believably real and rather spoiled, having grown up not only beautiful, but also in the lap of luxury. But she's horribly intelligent and very self-possessed, and it's fun watching her learning. The second half is mostly about Charles' re-wooing of his now reluctant bride (again, I ask, what did he think would happen?), and to be honest, I have no sympathy at all for him. He's going around being annoyed that Louise won't sleep with him, as she has fallen in love with the mysterious stranger, and all the times he throws temper tantrums about her unwillingness, I just want to bash him over the head and say, "Serves you right!" I feel if you have gone about and tricked your wife into falling in love with you in another guise, you have absolutely no right to go around yelling at her for her newfound reluctance to fall out of love with you-in-another-guise and fall in bed with you. I felt horribly sorry for Louise, who was extremely confused through the whole thing, seeing as how Charles would every so often remind her of the mysterious stranger.
Spoilers, sort of: And the worst part was, Louise discovered on her own that Charles was the shipboard stranger. And he never ended up telling her. He was just prepared to go on and deceive her again and break her heart as the mysterious stranger and let himself (as her husband) pick up the pieces. The author avoids one of those stupid Big Misunderstanding scenes, but does so in a way that makes the hero look even dumber. Louise doesn't even yell at him that much when she catches him in the act (she finds out a little before and doesn't confront him because she wants him to confide in her). I mean, I can see how it's a portrayal or exaggeration of Charles' insecurity and unwillingness to trust Louise because of said insecurity, but instead of making me feel like he's grown as a character, it just makes me want to slap him a few times. So, yes, I have very little regard for Charles' intelligence right now.
Er, yeah. I may have gone off a little there. But really!
While I really like Judith Ivory's style and the thought she puts into the characters, I've been turned off by some of her books because there's such a big power differential between the hero and the heroine. She does the sort of alpha, more sexually aware and more willful hero well and usually doesn't lapse into alpha male stupidity, but I've found that I have less and less tolerance for that unequal balance of power favoring the hero. Not really my kink anymore. (Isn't it interesting how kinks change? It used to be my kink, and then after too many bad books and a great deal of lit crit type thinking on the subject, it just stopped being my kink. Now my kink is the complete opposite. I guess it wasn't a bulletproof kink after all.) And the main thing that turns me off Beast is that power differential. I think this is the most uneven distribution of power between the hero and the heroine in all her books.
Louise Vandermeer is eighteen and gorgeous, and engaged to Charles Harcourt, a French perfume maker (and prince) who is disfigured and limps. I like how Ivory doesn't make light of Louise's beauty -- it is both a blessing and a curse, and Louise is believably ambivalent about it. I also like how Ivory doesn't cheat and make Charles' disfigurements mostly imaginary on his part. I've read books in which the hero goes on and on and on for pages about how no one will love him because he's been horribly scarred, and in the end, it turns out that the scars have mostly faded and only make him look dashing. Pah. Cheating. They are both on the same ship together crossing the Atlantic, and Charles decides to play a little trick on his bride-to-be, partly because he wants to get to know her without the impediment of his sort-of ugliness and partly out of a desire to prove he can. So he seduces her in the dark, without ever letting her see his face. Personally, this is where I really wanted to take a stick and beat him over the head, because honestly, who does stuff like this? It is, I suppose, a testament to Judith Ivory that I got through his plotting without throwing the book against a wall, which is what I normally would do.
So there's this giant power gap -- Louise is young and inexperienced, although she does have a fairly strong sense of herself. Charles is thirty-something, has a great deal of sexual experience, and he's the one who is pulling all the strings on the ship. Luckily Louise is not a bimbo, and she makes a very conscious decision to allow herself to be seduced. Alas, she falls in love with the mysterious stranger, and they must part ways once the ship docks.
The first half, detailing the seduction on the ship, is actually pretty good because it's interesting watching Louise grow and discover who she is in the dark, without her stunning looks, and she takes great pleasure in talking, in exploring. I really do like Louise as a character. She's believably real and rather spoiled, having grown up not only beautiful, but also in the lap of luxury. But she's horribly intelligent and very self-possessed, and it's fun watching her learning. The second half is mostly about Charles' re-wooing of his now reluctant bride (again, I ask, what did he think would happen?), and to be honest, I have no sympathy at all for him. He's going around being annoyed that Louise won't sleep with him, as she has fallen in love with the mysterious stranger, and all the times he throws temper tantrums about her unwillingness, I just want to bash him over the head and say, "Serves you right!" I feel if you have gone about and tricked your wife into falling in love with you in another guise, you have absolutely no right to go around yelling at her for her newfound reluctance to fall out of love with you-in-another-guise and fall in bed with you. I felt horribly sorry for Louise, who was extremely confused through the whole thing, seeing as how Charles would every so often remind her of the mysterious stranger.
Spoilers, sort of: And the worst part was, Louise discovered on her own that Charles was the shipboard stranger. And he never ended up telling her. He was just prepared to go on and deceive her again and break her heart as the mysterious stranger and let himself (as her husband) pick up the pieces. The author avoids one of those stupid Big Misunderstanding scenes, but does so in a way that makes the hero look even dumber. Louise doesn't even yell at him that much when she catches him in the act (she finds out a little before and doesn't confront him because she wants him to confide in her). I mean, I can see how it's a portrayal or exaggeration of Charles' insecurity and unwillingness to trust Louise because of said insecurity, but instead of making me feel like he's grown as a character, it just makes me want to slap him a few times. So, yes, I have very little regard for Charles' intelligence right now.
Er, yeah. I may have gone off a little there. But really!
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(no subject)
Tue, Nov. 30th, 2004 05:12 am (UTC)(no subject)
Tue, Nov. 30th, 2004 05:48 am (UTC)Too bad this isn't the best romance novel ever... My favorite books by Ivory are Sleeping Beauty and Dance (under the name Judy Cuevas, and it's unfortunately out of print and expensive to boot).
(no subject)
Tue, Nov. 30th, 2004 07:32 am (UTC)Yes, in real life people avoid things, but in romance books, something like this should not be avoided in most cases.
(no subject)
Wed, Dec. 1st, 2004 02:54 am (UTC)Stupid characters piss me off.
Tue, Nov. 30th, 2004 09:39 am (UTC)If you are looking for a book with a strong female lead, I would strongly suggest Cordelia's Honor by Lois McMaster Bujold. I will honestly say it's not her best book: It's one of her earlier ones, and the first in the series but I think it was published later. However the book itself is still very excellent.
Re: Stupid characters piss me off.
Tue, Nov. 30th, 2004 06:52 pm (UTC)I really need to read the Miles Vorkos... however you spell it books some time. Well, as soon as I get through the hundred other books I have to read ;). Too little time.
(no subject)
Tue, Nov. 30th, 2004 01:27 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Wed, Dec. 1st, 2004 02:56 am (UTC)(no subject)
Tue, Nov. 30th, 2004 03:11 pm (UTC)Snerk.
The sad thing is, this can apply to more than one novel--I remember reading a Regency with much the same plot. Only it was even more squicksome because the hero actually kidnapped his new bride and tied her up.
The gender politics actually got worse from there, but since I've mostly managed to scrub my memory clean, I'll spare you.
(no subject)
Wed, Dec. 1st, 2004 03:02 am (UTC)And urgh to the gender politics. That sounds quite squicksome.
(no subject)
Tue, Nov. 30th, 2004 04:21 pm (UTC)But reading your recap of the plot made me wish that the hero didn’t manage to win the heroine back, because, really if he plays with someone’s affections like this, he had to be prepared to be bitten in the ass (and not in a good way.)
(no subject)
Wed, Dec. 1st, 2004 03:04 am (UTC)So true! The entire time I was wondering, "Hero, what are you thinking? Do you actually not realize that there is no possible way for this to end well?"