Good Romance Novel Review: No True Gentleman by Liz Carlyle

So, I have more Fifty Shades to throw shade at (see what I did there?), but all of this negativity is getting me down. So is abuse, victim blaming and slut shaming. So, I wanted to review a book that's really good. And I've read a few that are really good lately. But...why go for a new book when you can go to an old, loved, wonderful book? A book that makes you feel good and warm and sexy, like that old pair of jeans that you'll never get rid of.

That book for me is No True Gentleman by Liz Carlyle, and it features one of my favorite literary couples since Emma and Mr. Knightly.

Max and Catherine are to Ana and Christian what hawks are to handsaws. Catherine is intelligent, funny, interesting, lively, self assured, confident, sexy, and not willing to take crap from anyone. Especially not from Max. She has a huge, closely-knit family, lots of friends, and wonder of wonders, she's a widow who not only is not a virgin, but she's no stranger to orgasms, either. In the literary world, this is a huge anomaly. Heroines are almost always virginal, even if they've been married, and the hero is the first one to teach them how to orgasm. You get the impression that Catherine figured it out on her own.

Max is also not a typical romance novel hero. He's got a lot of demons, but they make him complicated rather than just making him a man-whore. He's actually not a man-whore, which is completely unheard of in romance novels. He also has a network of friends (though he's reluctantly good friends with them...more on that later) and he has a good family connection with his family that is still alive. Yeah, he's sort of a woobie, but he's just enough of one. Just like how Catherine manages to not be too independent and aloof, Max manages to not be too broken over the deaths of his parents and the loss of his family home, name and title.

At the beginning of the book, Catherine and Max spy each other in Hyde Park, where Catherine runs her horse early in the morning. Max is looking into some sort of police investigator looking into corruption. There will be a murder to solve, but let's not look at that. Catherine actually has a conversation with her aunt--her late husband's aunt, mind--and Auntie suggests Catherine find herself a lover. Catherine's like, "Yeah, I was thinking the same thing." After reading so many romances where heroines are practically raped because they are so reluctant about sex (but then really enthusiastic about it, but only with the hero), this was a hugely wonderful change of pace. I don't know why so many romance novelists are prudes who think that sex should only happen between a woman and one man (and him and every other woman in the world), but it so often works like that. Carlyle's like, "Yeah, my couple likes sex. Deal with it."

So, one of Max's "friends" Cecilia Delacourt who featured in her own book (as a virgin widow, boo, Carlyle) makes him take on the investigation of her sister-in-law's murder. Her brother is the main suspect, but no one really thinks he could have done it. Catherine likes Cecilia, although most people do (she's sort of that Elle Woods/Cher Horrowitz airhead blonde who's smarter than she looks and acts), so she starts getting involved too. Max thinks this is a bad idea, mostly because he's actually a good cop and doesn't want civilians involved. But it's a romance novel, so of course Catherine gets involved.

I've mentioned that the murder plot really doesn't matter, and it doesn't. It's all the interraction between the people that really matter. In fact, we first met Max in A Woman of Virtue by the same author, and we all fell in love with not only Cecilia but also Lord Delacourt, the guy who just wanted to wear his ravensblood waistcoat although his valet wouldn't let him, so the continuation of characters is really what I was looking for. And I totally wasn't disappointed that we got to know more about Max and his reluctant ways of entering friendship.

The last person I want to hit on is George Jacob Kemble (his name is my name too), who played Lord Delacourt's valet in A Woman of Virtue (and said that Delacourt was too pale to wear that red waistcoat, though it looked great on Max), who is gay, but not in that really annoying way that writers seem to be doing nowadays where he's just flapping and lisping in such a way that even Carson Kressley would say was too much. Instead, he's also a really interesting character who knows his way around a fist fight, but is too fastidious to allow blood to stain his cuffs. As with her other characters, Carlyle manages a balance between this and that to make him an excellent character and completely not overdone.

I can't say enough about this book. It's good, and the sex is hot, unlike a certian Fifty Shades I can think of. In fact, I wish there was more sex, but ah well. What we get is great.

Two enthusiastic thumbs up.

Jeneration X: Why Jen Lancaster maybe will end up on my zombie fighting dream team

When last I wrote about Jen Lancaster, I was reading her novel If You Were Here and loving it. I mentioned at the time that she had written Jeneration X, another memoir that sends her back to her roots of Bitter is the New Black and my all-time favorite, Such a Pretty Fat.

By the way, I now always say "Memoir" the way John Malkovich said it in Burn after Reading; "Mem-Wah" because that movie was mad hilarious and you need to go watch it now, for Brad Pitt playing a gay personal trainer who is faaaaaaaaaaaabulous if for nothing else.

Anyway, Jeneration X is a bit different than Lancaster's usual style (have I determined yet if I can call her Jen? I think I decided I could...) since every chapter is more of a bullet point than a cohesive story, but it works for her. Basically, Jen is finally growing up, and each chapter represents a life lesson that she has learned. She does sometimes contrast in the Millennial generation to prove her point, but she mostly pinpoints Generation X, which I am a part of, and you are too if you were born between 1960 and 1980. Basically, there are all sorts of issues that we Gen-Xers have to deal with that our parents didn't, and how it affects us and our interactions with the generations we are sandwiched between.

Every life lesson is of course peppered with Jen's humor and charm and stories about her dogs and husband and various others in her life (Thun-Thun-Thundercats! Hooooo!)

But every time I read a book by Jen, I always come to the same conclusion: I can never have her in my zombie fighting dream team. And I should, really. I mean, she wields a pretty mean shovel and her husband is practically a Navy Seal (in his dreams), so they should totally be on my list to help me vanquish the undead horde.

The issue really comes down to the fact that I think Jen and Fletch would naturally start trying to run the whole operation, and that's my job. I promise to be a benevolent overlord, but an overlord nonetheless, and I don't see any future with Jen and Fletch in my batch of freedom fighters that doesn't end with us all dead, leaving the rest of my crew leaderless and, quite frankly, a yummy feast for the zombies. You see, eventually, she would question my authority, and then I'd have to kill her in order to make an example of her, and then Fletch would have to kill me in retaliation, and then whatever hot boy toy I have slobbering after me would have to kill Fletch in retaliation, and it just wouldn't work. In the past, I have thought, "Well, I'm sure they'll be fine after the zombpocalypse happens."

I have, however, found a solution. After reading Jeneration X, it was clear that Jen needs to lead her own troops to safety. Naturally, both she and Fletch will have to work with their friends (hint: not all of your friends will take you seriously when you broach the subject with them. When the zombies attack, these friends will always be "bait" in your zombie attacks) and be responsible for their own cell. I'm not saying we can't work together in the future to trade for food, shelter, or DNA diversity. That's always going to be open between my faction and any other faction that wishes to negotiate peacefully. We will be like America and Canada, willing to live peacefully side-by-side.

The best part is that maybe Jen can start working on her Amish zombie YA novels. Rumspringa-ding-dinga is sure to be a best seller in the post-Z world. Max Brooks stresses that The Arts are going to be the frist thing that everyone will want to abandon once the zombies attack, but that we in our own groups can't let that happen. I'm just betting that Jen will be able to make us laugh so hard as to completely forget for a few minutes that outside of our safe sanctuary, there are hundreds of undead, just waiting to make a meal out of us.

So Jen, Fletch, start working on your plans. We're counting on you.

Good Books Are Good

I love Jen Lancaster. She's a great author, and she makes me laugh. She is very active on her facebook, blog and Twitter, and as a reader and fan, I totally get behind that.

She usually writes memoires, her first being "Bitter Is The New Black" which follows her from being a rather large, wealthy fish in a rather small pond to being out of work, in incredible debt, and trying to make her way after the huge market crash following 9-11. It's a great story, especially since she is so self-deprecating. You see the build-up in the way she is, the way she spends, and you know what's coming. And when it does, it's somewhat gratifying that a spoiled ex-sorority girl trying to claw her way back up, but you also feel badly for her because it must have been hard. My favorite memoire of hers is "Such a Pretty Fat" which follows her through trying to lose weight. Again, you get a huge beginning of abject indulgence followed by a huge fall from grace when she starts realizing how her weight is affecting her health. Her honesty is what you're there for, and her descriptions of her friends, dogs, husband, cats, and her various apartment-related-issues of living in the big city (Chicago) and being surrounded by all kinds of crime and Redneckishness, wanna-be gang members (and real gang members) and homeless crack heads. Jen (can I call her Jen?) might not always have the perfect witty comeback at the tip of her tongue, but her reflections are always golden.

I kind of want to be like her when I grow up.

Anyway, I'm reading her new novel, "If You Were Here" which actually came out quite a while ago (I've been busy!) to the point that she actually had another book come out in the last few weeks (Jenneration X) and is currently doing a tour for it, so I am admittedly behind on things here.

But the book. Oh, the book. The book does not disappoint.

It follows Mia and Mac (who are suspiciously exactly like Jen and her husband Fletch) as they embark on their first foray into homeownership. Mia is a writer who writes YA novels about teenaged Amish zombies.

No, no, I'm serious. Teenaged Amish zombies.

They're teenagers, and they're Amish, and there are zombies. Sometimes they're in love with the zombies.

Someone needs to get into this genre quick.

I'm actually not very far into the book yet (only about 28%), so I can't speak for the whole thing, but so far it's great. However, just like most of her books, there are huge foreshadowing clues that sort of hit you in the head about what will go wrong.

For one, they are buying a house based on the fact that it was Jake Ryan's house in Sixteen Candles (Mia's reason) and because it has a panic room (Mac's reason). There is no way this can go wrong. (Also: Jaaaaaaake!)

For two, Mia spends so much time talking about how cute and adorable her inspector was, but very little time actually talking about what he inspected. This house has stood vacant for over twenty years, there is no way that it's going to get a glowing report. I'm surprised there wasn't grass growing through the foundation.

For three, Mia and Mac's former landlady is called Vienna Hyatt, and...well, I'm sorry Jen (I can call you Jen, right?) but that's a little...um...not smart and witty. It's the opposite of smart and witty. And you're smart and witty, and you're too good for that. Vienna Hyatt makes me think of Chekhov's Gun (not a reference to my cat or the Star Trek character, but to the actual writer and if you don't know what TV Tropes is, I can't help you here), and I'm sure she's going to make a reappearance at some point because you just don't invest that much into someone unless you're planning on resurrecting their character at some point.

For four, apparently the people of the neighborhood were going to tear down the house and turn it into some sort of community property, so they hate Mia and Mac already. And that never bodes well.

So far, the book is making me laugh, and I'm already driving my mom crazy by reading out blocks of text to her while she's trying to do her own thing, but she loves Jen (I'm just going to call her that) like I do, and she laughs with me.

Darcy V. Lizzy: Who is the Rudest of them all?

When people on the internet discuss Pride and Prejudice, they almost always talk about how horrible Darcy is to Lizzy, and how it teaches girls to think that men who treat them badly really secretly like them after all. Is this true, though? Let's look it over.

The first time we meet Mr. Darcy, we find him to be a rude person, and very little in the book changes our minds. He is horrible to Lizzy, and ever afterwards he is too, isn't he?

Well...no...

And he wasn't really all that rude to her in the first place, either.

Okay, sure, in her hearing, he called her "tolerable" and said she wasn't handsome enough to tempt, plus, she had clearly been passed over by other men, so, you know. Darcy just doesn't dance with women like that. Clearly she must be deficient.

This was a horrible thing to do to anyone. It was mean spirited, and a comment better made around the family fireplace, not in public.

What was Darcy's motivation in speaking about Elizabeth that way? I mean, it's really odd, isn't it, that he was calculatedly trying to offend someone? Couldn't he have just been indifferent? What happened?

I'll tell you what happened. When he walked into the party (like he was walking onto a yacht), people immediately began talking about his yearly income, his estate, who he was, etc. And remember the opening line of the book? How it's a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife? And regardless of the sentiments of either, he is considered as the rightful property of some one or other of the daughter(s) in the neighborhood?

Well, this is what happens when Darcy shows up to the party (he had one eye in the mirror and he watched himself walk by). All of the families start talking over his fortune and property without any regards to the man who holds those things (and then all the girls dreamed that they'd be his partner, they'd be his partner). Darcy ends up getting mad, and then he gets spiteful. I'm not saying he reacted well, but I am saying that I understand where he's coming from. Rather than have people scrape and fawn over him for his fortune, he'd rather have them hate him for who he (thinks he) is. (He's so vain, he probably thought the party was about him...)

In fact, if there is one woman he is rude to throughout the whole of the book, it's Miss Bingley. When Lizzy stays at Netherfield while Jane is convalescing, Miss Bingley sits next to Darcy while he writes to his sister, and every remark she makes, he contradicts. She says he writes quickly. Darcy says that she's mistaken. She says she'd hate to write letters of business, and he agrees that she'd do it badly. When she asks him to compare his sister to her in height, he compares her to Lizzy. When they begin talking about what accomplishments are, and Caroline rattles off some absurd list that even she herself can't live up to, Darcy includes Lizzy amongst the accomplished by complimenting her reading of books.

Before this, though, we learn that Darcy has been admiring Lizzy. Most especially, her eyes. He even admits this to Caroline Bingley, and when she asks if he's going to propose, he puts her down again for supposing that admiration leads to love and love to marriage. Still, Caroline hopes Darcy will come to her side of things, which makes her comment after Lizzy tries to disabuse their notions of what true accomplishment is, that Lizzy is the type to put other women down to make herself look better. Then Darcy responds rather ironically about how he doesn't like any of the games women play, and Caroline can only be dissatisfied with his response because he sees right through her.

At the party where Darcy begins admiring Lizzy's eyes, Charlotte Lucas, Lizzy's BFF, comments on how he looks at her quite often, and Lizzy decides that it has to be that he sees a flaw, not her "fine eyes." Then she calls him on his eavesdropping and staring with her question about whether she acquitted herself to Col. Forster well. It was a teasing and cute thing to do, and I think Darcy may have taken it as flirting. I really think that if Wickham had not come to town, Lizzy would start seeing things through Charlotte's eyes, but she was already more than half prejudiced against him at that point, and Wickham's story about Darcy throwing him over sends Lizzy back firmly in the "Darcy is Scum" category she was in before.

Lizzy's reaction to Wickham's news is her undoing. She takes the word of a total stranger over a man she had spent a lot of time in company with, who may be proud, but is certainly honorable. She has spent so long saying unkind things about Darcy that she willingly hops on the bandwagon and continues to say unkind things, only now they're also untrue things.

After the Netherfield Ball, which was admittedly a disaster for the Bennet family, Darcy taps the last nail into his own coffin by removing the Bingleys from Netherfield for the winter, and Lizzy is happy to see him go, though she hurts for Jane.

In Kent, when Lizzy visits the new Mrs. Collins (Charlotte Lucas, as was), Charlotte continues to be convinced that Darcy is after Lizzy, and says that his visiting the area so quickly must be because Lizzy is also in town. Lizzy again shakes this off and is rude to Darcy again by putting him down to Col. Fitzwilliam. Lizzy attacks him with her comment, "I do not play this instrument as well as I would like, but I have thought that was my fault for not taking the time to practise." Darcy's response, "You have employed your time much better...no one admitted to the pleasure of hearing you could ever think anything wanting." is almost desperate. Surely if she just talked to him, she'd see that he can acquit himself in public well, if she can only get past his shyness. I shudder to think how much crueler Lizzy could have been had Lady Catherine not interrupted them.

Then there's Col. Fitzwilliam. He is surprised that Lizzy and Darcy are not close friends. He has heard a lot about Lizzy. He's clearly there to look Lizzy over and tell Darcy what he thinks. If only he could have shut up about Jane and Bingley, things might have turned out differently.

When Darcy proposes the first time, he insults Lizzy without meaning to. Indeed, he is convinced that Lizzy has been expecting his proposal, and if she ever took Charlotte's cautions seriously, she may have expected it. But that first meeting was something she could never get over, he hurt her vanity, and therefore he could never change to a kind, caring person in her eyes.

Incidentally, I loved this scene in the Kiera Knightly version, because she obviously got turned on by their battle of wits. It is so easy to see Lizzy as an intellectual lacking an outlet for her intelligence. Her heated argument with Darcy may very well be the first she's been able to have out loud in her life. I don't really think much of Knightly, other than to think that she needs to eat a damn sandwich already, and stop sucking her cheeks in my GOD woman, but I did love that scene.

Anyway, it's not until Lizzy goes full-frontal attack that Darcy finally stops holding back and full on lets her know that her mother and younger sisters and yes, even her father, are just horrible, horrible people. And they are. The fact that Darcy could even get past Lydia and Mrs. Bennet to see Lizzy at all is wonderful.

In the end, Darcy feels so badly about what he said (despite the fact that it was the truth) that he writes Lizzy a letter--an item that she could produce at any time to make people think they are engaged (writing letters was proof of engagement back then. See: Sensibility, Sense and)-- in order to apologize (slightly) and to make her understand how things really stood between him and Wickham. To Lizzy's credit, she HATES herself after reading the letter, but she still can't forgive him. Not for Jane and Bingley.

And so things may have ended, had not Lizzy gone to Darbyshire with her aunt and uncle. Suddenly, Lizzy is on the defensive, and she fully expects Darcy to be on the offensive. After all, that's what she'd do. When her aunt points out how fine Darcy acts, Lizzy admits to being bewildered by it herself, and is surprised at how kindly Darcy treats her family and finally starts to see that Darcy is maybe a very kind person that she misjudged. Yes, after the letter, she still viewed him antagonistically.

Seriously, if anything, this books shows boys that if a girl doesn't like him, all he has to do is roll over and play the good boy until she finally decides that maybe he isn't so bad after all.

Oh, and he has to bail her sister out of jail and find his future brother-in-law (a guy who slept with his sister and then split) a really good job.

So, taken on the whole, Lizzy is really the antagonist to Darcy. Unfortunately, Darcy is so lost in his own little selfish world that he misses a lot that happens between him and her. It's sort of a classic case of "Same Planet, Different Worlds".

What draws us to Darcy, then? Why do we like him so much?

I wish I knew.