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Alas, one of my favorite romance novel authors has moved into the field of "real" fiction. This is her second non-romance novel; the first was on the Salem witch trials, and I haven't read it.

Chance's romances (past reviews here, here, here, and here) are usually far from happy and uplifting. Her happy endings feel like they won't quite last, and all her protagonists are damaged in some way or the other. I also like her because her heroines are as tortured as her heroes.

An Inconvenient Wife focuses entirely on the heroine, and while there is a bit of a romance, it's in no way a love story or anything but the story of a woman's escape from her restrictive life.

Lucy Carelton suffers from hysteria; she's gone to numerous doctors who have suggested a stay at an asylum, an ovarectium (sp) and laudunum. Nothing works. Finally, she and her desperate husband William find Dr. Victor Seth, a neurologist who believes in the power of hypnotism and electrotherapy.

I loved the setting of the book (New York 1885), and I think Chance is particularly good at conveying how limiting the life of an upperclass woman was, how so many choices were dictated by societal rules. The book wasn't particularly pleasant to read, though, because of how stifling it felt, but I don't think that's a particularly bad point. It reminds me quite a bit of Age of Innocence, actually.

The only problem is that I'm thoroughly unconvinced by the turn the plot takes about three-fourths of the way through -- what began as a look at imprisonment and limitations becomes a little more sensational, and I don't think it works with the tone of the book. I mean, I enjoy the ending from a romance-novel-cliche-bender kind of way, but I'm not convinced of it, if that makes sense.

Anyhow, it was interesting, and I'll keep a watch out for more Chance books.

2004 book round up

Sun, Jan. 9th, 2005 02:11 pm
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Heh, the ability to do this post was the reason behind why I started book blogging last year, and of course, now it's about a week late and I don't have much energy to write it. But write it I will.

I am shamelessly copying [livejournal.com profile] coffee_and_ink's format (I hope you don't mind, Mely), whose posts are the main reason why I started book blogging at all.

This being the inaugural year, I have no idea how this matches up to my reading habits of previous year. Just off the top of my head, I would say that I feel like I've read a great deal of books this year, and most of them good. A big reason for that is because of LJ, because of all the recs that have come in, and for that, I am eternally grateful. I read many things I wouldn't have touched previously because of that. And now, my ten favorite books of the year, out of all the books I have read this year (excluding rereads), not out of all the books published this year. They may not be the best books I've read this year, or the most technically proficient, or the like, but they are books that grabbed me somehow and will most likely end up being reread very often. I'm cheating quite a bit on this list and including multiple books by authors and such, but hey, it's my list ;).

Listed alphabetically by author. I've blogged each book before, which you can find in my book memories section, if you want to read me blather on even more.


  1. Megan Chance, Fall From Grace

    Both romances on this list are ones that push the boundaries of the genre. I love Megan Chance's romances because she doesn't bother to whitewash history; her characters are rarely the rareified nobility that populate most romances. In this book, they are outlaws, and there is no romance at all in the way Chance portrays their lives. She also inverts the trope and makes the hard-living, hard-hearted character the heroine, with a hero painfully in love with her. This is not a fuzzy romance; it's on the smothering of dreams and hopes, on the choices that life gradually takes away.


  2. Michael Dirda, Readings

    Dirda is a kindred spirit in the book world, although I can only sit back and wish that I have read as broadly and as deeply as he has, as well as wish that I could write about the experience of reading and of books so beautifully as he does. But I can't, so I am incredibly glad that he exists in the world and writes the reviews he does. His book reviews are like recommendations from a close friend.


  3. Dorothy Dunnett, The Lymond Chronicles

    If I had to pick just one book of them, it would be Pawn in Frankincense, where all the build-up of the previous three books comes to head in a tense climax that left me breathless. Dunnett is very often manipulative, I still don't like Lymond as a person, and Checkmate is pretty flawed, especially when you look at how Dunnett throws in every single romance cliche in the book, but the series as a whole is so large and epic and grand that they occupied a very sizeable chunk of my head and heart for a very long period of time. And despite the criticism, nothing I've read this year has swallowed me whole the same way this series did -- I read the first book over a few months, the second in a week, and by the time I had gotten to Checkmate, I had spent an entire week reading till 5 in the morning, and was so sleep-deprived that I went home sick from work and finished the last book at home in a frenzied rush.

    Also, it's hard to beat Dunnett for sheer amount of influence on other authors.

    The Lymond books consist of The Game of Kings, Queen's Play, The Disorderly Knights, Pawn in Frankincense, The Ringed Castle, and Checkmate


  4. Kij Johnson, Fudoki

    This book is set in the same universe as Johnson's first book, The Fox Woman, and it has the same delicate touch in bringing Heian Japan to life in a way that feels very authentic to me. Finally, a fantasy set in Asia that doesn't grate on my nerves. The setting, while wonderfully done, is just one of the many beautiful parts of this book. The narrative centered on the dying princess Harueme is elegaic and full of regrets; the one on the cat-turned-warrior-woman is properly sharp around the edges, with charming touches like dreams of rice balls. A very good book that leaves a lingering sense of mono no aware.


  5. Laura Kinsale, Shadowheart

    After I read this, I was nearly incoherent with glee over how it smashes romance genre tropes left and right, with the added bonus of sex scenes that don't just develop the characters, but are also so intrinsic to the plot and the meat of the book that it is unimaginable without them. While the plot in and of itself doesn't make too much sense (though it is much more coherent than many Kinsale plots), the heart of the book is in the character dynamics and the exploration of gender roles and issues of power and control. Also, Kinsale manages to do all this while writing a scorching romance.


  6. Maureen F. McHugh, China Mountain Zhang

    Science fiction set in a world where China has become the one superpower and America has turned socialist. Instead of using the set up to explore overtly political issues in a larger setting, McHugh chooses narrate from the POV of the titular character and a few of the other people in the world whose lives he affects, no matter how obliquely. Because of this, the book has a much more intimate tone, even while it explores the larger issues of race, ethnicity, and cultural authenticity without ever losing sight of its characters, who are always human first.

  7. Patricia A. McKillip, multiple novels

    I discovered Patricia McKillip this year, after many years of never understanding her books, and it has been a joy going through her backlist. It's probably unnecessary praising McKillip to most people who read this LJ, but for anyone who hasn't read her books, the beauty of the prose and the images, the clarity of the visual metaphors and, above all, the underlying humanity in all her characters have completely won me over. My favorite of her books, Winter Rose, is actually a reread, although I don't actually remember my first read of it at all.

    I read her The Riddlemaster of Hed trilogy, Alphabet of Thorn, The Book of Atrix Wolfe, The Changeling Sea, In the Forests of Serre, Ombria in Shadow, Song for the Basilisk, The Tower at Stony Wood, and Winter Rose this year.


  8. Azar Nafisi, Reading Lolita in Tehran

    While I wanted a non-Nafisi POV at times for balance, Nafisi's memoir is still an effective look at not only a woman's life in Iran, but also the importance of reading and imagination. For me, it works better as an investigation into why we read than a chronicle of post-revolution Iran, but that is largely because of the constraints of the memoir format. This book hit some very deep spots in me regarding questions of morality and art and why the great books are always revolutionary in some way. A perfect demonstration of how books at their best can push boundaries and shape the mind.


  9. Marjane Satrapi, Persepolis

    Like Nafisi's book, Satrapi's Persepolis is a memoir of the Islamic revolution in Iran; however, Persepolis is also a wonderful graphic novel with stark black-and-white art and an often bizarre sense of humor. Satrapi's memoir is much less overtly political than Nafisi's, and it is more effective for me because of that. Satrapi focuses on the commonplace, on the seemingly trifling changes that the revolutions causes, and because of this, the truly horrific things that happen in her country are made that much worse in context of the everyday. Smart, funny, and engaging.


  10. Patricia C. Wrede and Caroline Stevermer, Sorcery and Cecelia, or The Enchanted Chocolate Pot

    An epistolary fantasy Regency novel! This is the book that I've been pushing on all of my friends, to the point of buying a copy and bringing it all the way over to Taiwan just so I could make yet another person read it. There's something incredibly joyful about this book -- one can sense how much fun the authors had writing it, and it makes for a delightful reading experience.



Also recommended: Lloyd Alexander, the Westmark trilogy; Connie Brockway, The Bridal Season; Joan Jacobs Brumberg, Fasting Girls: The History of Anorexia Nervosa; Jennifer Crusie, Bet Me; Judy Cuevas, Bliss and Dance; Karen Cushman, Catherine, Called Birdy; Pamela Dean, the Secret Country trilogy; Patricia MacLachlan, The Facts and Fictions of Minna Pratt; Margaret Mahy, The Tricksters; Ellen Raskin, The Tattooed Potato and Other Clues; Carroll Smith-Rosenberg, Disorderly Conduct: Visions of Gender in Victorian America; Elizabeth A. Wein, The Winter Prince

ETA: Added more books to the also recced list, because I am hare-brained and forgot a few.

Total read: 167 (8 rereads)

Books finished in 2004 )
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This is, I think, a more standard romance novel, in terms of gender roles and the like, which was rather disappointing. The story still oozes angst out of every pore (Betrayal! Betrayal again! And... wait for it... more betrayal!), seeing as how the hero was an undercover Pinkerton agent who ended up giving the evidence for the heroine's husband's death sentence while seducing her. Unfortunately, Chance doesn't get around to subverting the genre tropes as much as she normally does. I like her generally because it's her women who are emotionally withdrawn, as opposed to the rake who is unable to love, blah blah, transformed by the love of an innocent woman. I like that her women are very seldom innocent and never cute or cuddly. Sari is a little more within the standard heroine template -- she has been betrayed, which means she is granted that aura of martyrdom, and for some strange reason, Conor (the hero) does one of those weird things in which he somehow thinks she managed to betray him. I feel if one is a Pinkerton agent out to seduce a woman to get closer to her husband and brother so he can turn them over to the police, who subsequently give them death sentences, one does not really get to feel betrayed when said woman *gasp* warns her brother away.

I could insert a rant about how the hero always manages to somehow suspect the innocent and martyred heroine of some stupid betrayal, the worst, of course, being sleeping with someone else. I think some heroes would rather have their loved one murder someone than sleep with someone else.

Anyhow. It doesn't get to the very badly melodramatic levels, but the presence of the cliche sort of irked me throughout the entire story. Another standard cliche that irked me was the matchmaking uncle who somehow knew the double-crossing Conor was the perfect match for Sari, despite said betrayal, and that he immediately turned against Sari's brother, set up as the villain of the piece. Too good to be true yenta character.

But, like her other books, I liked very much how Chance never shied away from the non-romantic nature of being a homesteader. I like how her books are about real people who aren't society darlings and who live in sod houses and wash their own clothes and in general have to struggle for their own survival. It's gritty and it makes the romance somehow feel more real. Good romance novel in general, but not up to her own standard, imho.
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Which I just got in the mail from Half.com, whoo! Also in the mail was a note that my Amazon order (newest Kinsale, Dirda's Readings, something else -- Carla Kelly maybe?) was there, except I am still irked because it's at the apartment manager's office and her hours do not always coincide with my not-at-work hours. GRR. Want book now damnit.

But had this. Of course, this can also be construed as a bad thing, considering that I started reading at 2, promised myself I'd only read a chapter, and promptly ended up finishing at six in the morning. Had to get up at ten for work. Ugh. Nearly overslept -- did that thing where I turned off my alarm clock without waking up =(.

Half of Megan Chance's books seem to do this to me -- I read The Gentleman Caller, Fall From Grace, and A Candle in the Dark in precisely this manner (those are my favorites of hers). So this one definitely goes up there with them.

It's got many of Chance's trademarks (or what I have pinned down as some): dealing with real life issues and not romanticizing them at all.. in this case, with a manic-depressive hero. Much like her treatment of outlaws in Fall From Grace or alcoholism in Candle in the Dark, she refuses to use the disease to make the hero somehow sexier or more mysterious. And I like how he is missing a hand, and how it's not one of those romance hero "I'm ugly and my face is scarred and no one will ever love me for I do not deserve their love" things when the scarring is really not that bad, etc. Further kudos go toward making the hero's angsty decision to drive the heroine away because he is not worthy (blah de blah) a truly viable option. Chance doesn't hesitate to show that if Imogene remains with Jonas (the manic-depressive artist), it is really for better and for worse, and more often than not, for worse. Pragmatically speaking, Imogene would be ten times better off without him, even in the wake of a scandal.

Like [livejournal.com profile] melymbrosia, I'm in doubt of the happy ending, and in my imagination, love conquers all turns into bitterness, or weariness, or despair.

One of the most frustrating things is knowing what helps these days, but it's a good frustration, and I'm glad the author doesn't cheat and have him accidentally ingest something with lithium and discover he can be cured. Too many romances cheat -- I think that's why Romeo and Juliet or Casablanca or even Gone With the Wind remain classics. They don't suddenly throw in a deus ex machina and have the happily ever after, and I wish more often that romances would figure that out. Well, the angsty ones. Because I want my sap and comedy as much as the next person ;).

Anyhow, getting distracted again. The book has also got the problematic parent-child relationship, and I thought that this could almost be Corinne from The Gentleman Caller's story, if Corinne and Rosalie had switched personalities.

I particularly liked the paleness of Imogene, her faded quality that was more strength and will than anything else. It reminds me of the title "Sarah, Plain and Tall" and of how "plain and tall" can sometimes be better than being beautiful.
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Now I've read all the Megan Chance romances, with the exception of The Portrait, which I just got from Half.com. Too impatient to wait for it to come in at the bookstore or something. I'm still debating picking up Susannah Morrow, since [livejournal.com profile] melymbrosia says it's the weakest of her books.

So, these few days I have been reading:

After the Frost -- her second romance. I didn't like it as much as most of them, and the story takes a little time to get started. Subverted trope in this case would be the custody battle, except this time, it was the mother who came back for her daughter and the father trying to protect his happy household. I wonder what it says about me when I say I didn't like the heroine as much as the other ones because she wasn't as cold? Anyhow, again, I enjoyed small things like having there be no Big Misunderstanding and having Belle give up her idea of taking her daughter away instead of hanging on to it with her last breath, and a daughter who was luckily not too twee. And while Megan Chance's books generally don't focus so much on the physical side of the romance, this one does much more. I did feel a bit squicky about the fact that Rand and Belle conceived the girl when Belle was fifteen and he was twenty-two. Not so sure of the historical accuracy, and I'm guessing that enough girls at fifteen were married even, but it was still a bit squicky. Also, the traumatic past event, while not a Big Secret, also did not put the hero in the best of lights. I was a little hazy about his reasoning there (or lack thereof). Not Megan Chance's best, but better than a good many romances out there.

A Season in Eden -- I literally cried while I was reading this. Not sniffled, not teared up, but had to go blow my nose and wipe the tears off my face at least three times, and I in general do not cry while partaking in fiction. It quite likely could be hormones or something. And while it's being marketed as a romance novel, it really doesn't fit in the genre. More women's fiction marketed as romance (as opposed to Jennifer Crusie). The story is Lora's, who has had the hope torn out of her about a year ago. Her husband Eli decides to go off to a logging camp for money to pay off their debts, and has Will, a hired man, come in to help Lora out. I particularly loved the slowness of the book and its emphasis on the details of life in that area. Much like Fall from Grace, the life is very hard, and Chance makes it very clear just how desperate their situation can be and how precarious their hold on the land really is. I think that's what I love the most about the Western setting -- it reminds me of the Little House books.

I also very much liked how the reason behind Lora's loss of hopes was revealed slowly and almost naturally, given that it was told in first person, so when we finally find out what happens and why Lora does some of the things she does, it makes sense and it hurts. It didn't feel like the author was arbitrarily giving her signs of grief/trauma (as opposed to the fear of dead babies in SEP's First Lady). And I adored the letters. I never quite realized before, but I really love letters in books. I loved them because they weren't romantic, and yet, they were, and because I remember writing emails to the boy over summers when we were an ocean apart and how different it made communicating. And most importantly, I understood Lora's pain and why she reacted the way she did, which made her sympathetic instead of potentially whiny or annoying. Not that I think she was even close...
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So I randomly picked up a Megan Chance at the library (A Candle in the Dark), vaguely remembering her being recced on my LJ before, and now have started obsessively glomming.

She's not a very typical romance author at all, and I mean that in a highly complimentary way. From the first four I've read, she seems to write about people who have somehow lost hope or have been hurt by life in some way and how they manage to find themselves and their dreams again. It sounds much more like women's fiction instead of romance, except it is most definitely romance, albeit slightly unconventional. I like her very much so far -- like Carla Kelly, she writes about people who seem very real and very solid to me. Too many romance authors manage to make the characters into stereotypes, and often, even the good ones make them into people you don't really think exist, who encounter problems that you wouldn't encounter. And while there's nothing wrong with that, it's nice to read a love story that feels like it could happen, that it deals with issues I am personally interested in. She also manages to hit almost every single one of my angst buttons in some.

So far, she seems to write about fairly angsty characters, some who come out nice, some mean, but all of them fairly complicated. They all seem to be American historicals, set around the Civil War period, and one of the things that I really like so far is that she doesn't sugarcoat or romanticize much of the life back then at all. It feels hard and mean and difficult, and the characters aren't somehow magically educated or genteel.

The ones I've gotten to: )

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