Thursday, March 24, 2011

Review: Dark Road to Darjeeling by Deanna Raybourn

Dark Road to Darjeeling is the fourth book in Deanna Raybourn's Lady Julia Grey series, and I'm just going to say that if you haven't read the first three books in this series, you shouldn't be reading this review. If you haven't read the first three books, you shouldn't read this book either, because much of the interest and emotional impact in the story comes from prior knowledge of the characters. 


This latest entry in the series finds Julia, post honeymoon, journeying with her new husband, Brisbane, to India alongside Julia's sister, Portia, and their brother, Plum. The reason for their visit is a letter Portia has had from her ex-lover, Jane, saying that Jane is pregnant and depressed and her husband has recently been found mysteriously dead. Julia and her intrepid companions of course travel to the tea plantation where Jane has been living and attempt to determine what, or rather, who, caused Freddie's death. Along the way they meet some old acquaintances and a few new ones who turn out to be connected to Julia and Brisbane in different ways. 


I'm a big fan of mysteries and these books are definitely that-- mysteries. They do have some light romantic elements, but the mystery occupies the main focus of the book and not the relationship between the characters. For me, this was the source of a lot of my frustration with this entry in the series. The mystery itself was very interesting and well done. You spend a lot of the book wondering if Freddie was murdered at all and, if he was, who could have possibly done it. The supporting cast is well-fleshed out and the Indian setting was drawn with beautiful detail. 


That said, I wanted a little more from this book. Especially after Silent on the Moor, which focused equally on the investigation and Julia and Brisbane's tempestuous relationship, I wanted more of a glimpse of what their marriage would be like. Instead they're apart for long stretches of the book and, when they're together, they squabble like small children over silly things. For example, Julia hides her investigative notebook under the mattress so Brisbane won't know her ideas about who the suspects are. This is beyond childish, and not something I expect to see in a supposedly happily married couple. Most of the book was like this, and there were a few moments of serious jackassery on both of their parts. Highlight for mild spoilery example: At one point, they argue and Brisbane locks her in their dressing room for the night so she won't storm off... and in the morning she forgives him!
Mainly I wanted Julia and Brisbane to act like adults who loved each other. When they had disagreements or did something stupid, I wanted them to apologize and work through it, not gloss over the event like it had never happened. 


If I was reading this book just for the mystery elements, I would have been very satisfied. However, the romantic and characterization angle left me feeling frustrated. I almost felt like she was using a kind of comic shorthand when portraying the characters, rather than investing in real emotional depth. These books have always had a comic angle (the March family is so anachronistic that it's almost silly at times), but that is usually balanced by the way she gives her characters realistic emotions. This time I felt that she wasn't doing that, and what I was left with instead was an almost farcical portrayal of Julia and Brisbane. 


I hope that the next book in the series improves, because her mystery elements were excellent and I really love these characters. I am worried that these novels will go the way of another series I have loved that's jumped the shark: Laurie R. King's Mary Russell series.



Two final caveats: 
One: what is going on with the Twilight-esque cover? It's everywhere, I'm telling you...

and, two: One of the things that really got on my nerves (and this is just nitpicking) was the way Brisbane and Julia's phsyical relationship was portrayed. Every time she referred to them having sex, she called it "marital affections." As in, "then we engaged in marital affections!" (Slight exaggeration) I mean, if you don't want to write a sex scene, just do the whole "Walls of Jericho" thing and fade to black. But please, do not write, "Then he proceeded to apply himself to marital affections." It sounds like something your maiden aunt would say, and it's not very romantic... and it makes me want to laugh out loud. 



Verdict: Borrow this book
I would definitely recommend it to fans of the series and anyone who likes a well-written mystery, but to be honest, this one and The Dead Travel Fast have knocked Raybourn off my auto-buy list. She is still a good writer, but unless the next book is jaw-droppingly good I will be checking her books out from the library from now on. 



Monday, September 20, 2010

Romance Reading Expectations

I had an interesting moment with a fellow grad student last week that made me start thinking about genre expectations (in general) and romance readers' expectations (in particular). We had both read E.M. Forster's novel Maurice for a class.


CAVEAT:
This book has been around so long that I don't think I'm spoiling anything, but if you desperately want to read Maurice and not know the ending, you should probably find something else to read. I don't mind spoilers myself, but I realize that other people do...
Example:
Kitty: Man, I love the ending of Crime and Punishment, when [redacted] happens in the prison. I cry every time I read that scene!
Boyfriend: Ahh! You just spoiled me! I hadn't gotten that far yet! I didn't know he got caught...
::Kitty and Best Friend exchange a long look::
Best Friend: Well, Boyfriend, it's called Crime and Punishment... not Crime.




Anyway, on to Forster.


For those who don't know, Forster was a semi-closeted homosexual and Maurice was the novel in which he attempted to envision a happy ending to a male homosexual relationship in Edwardian England. Needless to say, the book wasn't printed until well after the Edwardian age ended. The book does have a happy ending, and the main character and his boyfriend get their HEA.


In conversation with my friend, I mentioned that I didn't think it was as good as Forster's other books (say, Howards End or A Passage to India) and that I didn't think it reached the emotional depth or prose brilliance of those works.


She countered with, "That may be true, but I just loved it. It was sooo romantic."


This exchange left me scratching my head and wondering if we had read the same book. Part of my dissatisfaction was because I felt that Maurice was decidedly un-romantic. (Unlike, say, A Room with a View.) The main character spends the entire book pining over someone who is, well, a big jerk, and he only meets his real love interest about fifty pages from the end of the novel. They have a total of three or four awkward scenes together in which there is ample evidence of class differences and general animosity, and then in the last half page or so, they decide to run off and live HEA. If this had been a romance novel, I would have thrown it at the wall.


I wonder if part of my reaction (setting aside questions of bad plotting and narrative awkwardness) isn't because of reading romance. When I pick up a romance novel, I expect to see the growth of a romantic relationship between two people. I expect the ending to be satisfying and grow organically out of the interactions between the two characters. If there are big issues, such as class differences, I expect them to be dealt with or at least addressed by the end of the novel. If books don't meet these standards, I don't consider them romance novels. Read React Review's Jessica has a great post on why she doesn't consider Kristan Higgins' books to be romance novels. Her reasons also have to do with genre expectations.


Coming to Maurice as a reader of genre fiction, I was disappointed. However, my friend does not read romantic fiction of any kind, and she felt that the novel was a romance. Why? Because it ended with two people running off together. She didn't have any expectations about growth of the relationship or a believable HEA. To her, any book that ends with a couple pairing off is a romance because she is unfamiliar with the genre and does not have the same expectations as a romance reader. Ultimately, she found the book to be much more emotionally satisfying than I did.


So, what other genre expectations do we have as romance readers? Do those expectations spoil or enhance our enjoyment of other genres, like mysteries or science fiction? Something worth pondering...

Sunday, September 19, 2010

Lydia Davis and the art of translation

The Paris Review blog has a great piece up by Lydia Davis on her new translation of Madame Bovary. 


On the subject of multiple translations, Davis has this to say, "But even though I believe a superlative translation can achieve timelessness, that doesn’t mean I think other translators shouldn’t attempt other versions. The more the better, in the end." 


I'm really looking forward to reading Davis' new translation. She's immensely talented.