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| I love how Arnaud looks like Alan Bates. |
I was more than a little disappointed with this book. There was some stuff I liked about it, but a lot more that irritated me and made me seriously wonder just what the hype is all about. I’m sad about that, because I really wanted to like it. Maybe the rest of the series is better. At least I’m hoping so.
An extended prologue sets the scene for Catherine’s future of adventure and (I’m assuming) bedroom quandaries. She falls in love with the wrong guy and the whole chaste affair naturally ends in tragedy. This part was a bit slow-moving at times, but there was great tension and build-up to the tragedy that the gawky, freckled Catherine suffers (which ends up dictating all of her future actions, foolish as they are). While not much nitty-gritty detail was given to the rivalry between the Duke of Burgundy and the royal family, there was enough to make the strife within the streets seem real and dangerous. This, I liked.
Her troubled childhood dispensed with, Catherine enters Chapter 1 as a feisty, freckle-free and beautiful young woman who spends a lot of time on hair and clothes and is a spoiled little bourgeois maiden. I was hoping that this was when the book would really get cooking, but so many scenes tended to ramble in the stews and bourgeois circles of Paris with much of it seeming like the busy work of extras in a Franco Zeffirelli production. It was evocative of the times, but I often wondered if there was any point. There was usually a kernel of plot in there, but too much else swamped it. I’ve read enough books like that to know that I don’t like it when authors futz around with distractions. Get to the damn point. Or at least make the detours interesting.
It’s an obvious “first in a series,” but not in the current trend of dumping a bunch of characters on the reader and/or spending 1/3rd of the book setting up the next installment. Instead, we are treated to a meandering bit of story with an intense focus on a main character who, by the end, hasn’t really evolved at all and meets the final page on a cliffhanger of the DUN DUN DUN variety. Albeit a cheap thrill out of good ol’ melodramas, it would have been more satisfying if Catherine had become a character I really wanted to read about. As it is, she is more immature at twenty-one than she was at twelve (when the prologue occurs). She does stupid things, says stupid things, and is in general a self-centered, impulsive idiot. She really has got to smarten up by the time the series ends - there’s no place to go but up, anyway. So this book had the feel of a character trying to find herself - or rather an author trying to find her character.
The “romance” was really lacking here and I was flummoxed by Catherine’s attachment to Arnaud after only a few short, sweet hours together - no, not what you’re thinking, since she’s as much a virgin on the last page as she is on the first despite being married, chased by the Duke Burgundy and groomed as his mistress, and getting groped and pawed by Arnaud for about 15 seconds. Her desperate love for Arnaud is based on his physical likeness to her first love who was his brother. That’s pretty much it - perhaps there was more to it, but it really wasn’t explored at all, and so surface appearances win by default.I couldn’t get behind the romance with such little interaction and foundation for it, so Catherine really came off as a pathetic, clingy fool. Not to mention immoral, since she is determined to go to very drastic ends to be free and pure for Arnaud, even though he hates her. (And since the object of her plot was the only character I really liked and who also happened to be the best-characterized of the bunch, she gets an extra black mark for that. The mature, one-eyed, tempted - and therefore tormented - Garin de Brazey rocks.)
At least that little plot didn’t turn out so well and she realized just how far she was willing to go - imperiling her immortal soul - for the elusive Arnaud, but she still continues in her quest to get him. Some wise Arabic doctor refers to Arnaud’s undying desire for her (despite all outward appearances), so I guess it’s one of those fate-y, destiny-y kinds of loves. I can dig that if there’s stuff to back it up, but I wasn’t feeling the stars dictating the wo-mance like I have in other books, like Rebecca Brandewyne's Forever My Love. (Sorry if that book is always being dragged out as one of my high standards of BRs. Tough titties.)
The climax was a showy set piece between the two men who torment Catherine - one by his lechery and the other by his angry rejection - but since both of them were often physically absent from the story (yes, Arnaud is seen only twice in the whole book), the bulk of my interest and engagement was supposed to rest on Catherine, and as I think I’ve made clear, she didn’t do anything for me as a heroine. It was during this part where lame clichés really brought the story down. Since it was nearly the last page, it left a sour taste in my mouth.
Still, I have the rest of the series and will continue with it, if only to see how Catherine and Arnaud finally get together, because this book had them driven apart using those aforementioned lamest of romance clichés at both their first separation and the last (paraphrased):
SEPARATION 1:
CATHERINE: “Yes, my cousins killed your brother, but--”
ARNAUD: “No, don’t tell me anymore! I don’t want to hear it!”
CATHERINE: “Fine!” *storms off*
SEPARATION 2:
ARNAUD: ”I’ve caught you in the bed of my enemy! Your earlier caresses were obviously a plot to entrap me! Off with you, wicked and vile temptress! I curse your name and hope you rot!”
CATHERINE: “I love you. Arnaud! I love you! It's not what it looks like, but I don’t care what you think of me, I love you! I love you!”
ARNAUD: *leaves*
CATHERINE: *pines*
Blech.
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| Art by Elaine Gignilliat |
It can only get better, right?
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