Short book review: "Undead and Unwed" by Mary Janice Davidson

Betsy Taylor is 30 years old, single, and a model-turned-secretary. She has a rotten day, which culminates in getting hit by an SVU ... and yet she wakes up, "alive" and well. Turns out she's the prophesied Queen of the Vampires--Queen Bess, get it?.

I was excited for this book--it seems to combine two of my loves, vampires and Sex and the City, with a wink in the direction of Tudor history as well. It's a small book, so I was expecting a quick and enjoyable read. Instead, I struggled through the first couple of chapters and put it down. A couple of weeks later I tried again, but it just didn't work.

The main problem, I think, is that the main character is so incredibly shallow and self-absorbed. She kills two people, and yet is more worried about the fact that she's wearing bad shoes. No, that's really not a exaggeration. The people around her don't react at all as if something is, you know, wrong with the fact that she's come back from the dead. They react with the same glossy, flippant humor that she herself displays. Maybe this was intended to be light and airy, but it just comes across as strange, as flat and ridiculous. I don't expect every vampire book to be as self-conscious and brooding as Anne Rice, but the characters do need to at least seem like somewhat real people.

Honestly, I never made it through the book. That happens very rarely with me, but there was just nothing here to interest me.

Book review: "The Constant Princess" by Phillipa Gregory

Having read several of Phillipa Gregory's Tudor romances before, I was kind of excited to read a new one. I loved The Other Boleyn Girl (though not the movie) and The Queen's Fool; I liked The Boleyn Inheritance. I really disliked The Virgin's Lover, though. Since I'd read her previous book, I knew that Gregory takes a lot of liberties with history, and I was prepared for that.

However, I found that The Constant Princess is similar to The Virgin's Lover: both take a well-known historical figure and turn her character completely upside down. In The Virgin's Lover it was Elizabeth I; in this book it was Katherine of Aragon, first wife of Henry VIII. Katherine was a Spanish princess, raised by a warrior queen and a scheming king who were waging a holy war against the Moors. She was betrothed at a very young age to Arthur, the oldest son of Henry VII, and was married to him at around fifteen. He died soon afterward, and seven years later she was re-married to his younger brother, Henry. For the rest of her life, Katherine maintained that her marriage to Arthur had never been consummated, and so her marriage to Henry was legal with or without a papal dispensation.

In this book, Gregory puts forth the idea that this was a great lie. Most of the book is taken up by Katherine describing Spain and contrasting it with England, either to herself or to Arthur during their brief marriage. The Katherine of this book was deeply in love with her husband, and he with her; but because she was painfully shy and raised in a very prim court, Arthur snuck in to her chamber, where they would spend the night talking about their plans for England and their pasts. Then Arthur contracted the mysterious sweating sickness and died--but on his deathbed, in Gregory's novel, he made Katherine promise to marry his brother so she could become queen and fulfill their grand designs for the country's future. Everything Katherine does after that, from fighting to marry Henry to having children, she does for Arthur.

Here's the problem: Katherine was a very staunch, very devout Catholic. Even if she was willing to commit the sin of lying, it's hard to believe she would lie about her marriage being consummated. It's not as simple as telling a lie about being a virgin; it's a lie about being within the "forbidden degrees of consanguinity" in relation to Henry. It would mean that she would be committing incest, basically. It would mean she was fornicating outside of marriage, because her marriage to Henry would be invalid. It would mean that her children would be bastards. It would be a lie of far-reaching consequences, and unless her religious devotion was a false front, telling such a lie would be out of character. So basically, this entire book is based upon a premise that seems incredibly unlikely.

The fact that Gregory completely created some details also makes it less agreeable. For instance, there's an entire plotline where Katherine miscarries her first child (true) and then spends another several months in seclusion because a court doctor told her she was carrying twins and one was still to be born (false). During this time Henry takes his first mistress (false--it was during Katherine's second pregnancy), a woman named Anne (false--it was Margaret Blount). Granted these are small details, and all historical fiction takes those sorts of liberties--but there was no reason for it, and it just adds another layer of falseness to this entire book.

It's also a strangely paced story. There's a lot of exposition as Katherine describes Spain, describes her mother, describes her journey to England; she and Arthur fall in love and talk; she tries to be all wily and worldly and schemes to marry Henry; she marries Henry, had a child that dies, gets upset by his first affair .... and then everything fast-forwards and Katherine walks in to the courtroom to make her famous plea to Henry when he's trying to nullify their marriage.

Overall, I just wasn't impressed with this book. It felt like an idle romantic daydream drawn long, followed by a quick rush to resolve the story. I didn't even fully read the second half of the book; I skimmed over drawn-out descriptions and angst diary-like pages. This book is definitely one to skip.

Book review: "The Dream-Hunter" by Sherrilyn Kenyon

A friend at work recommended Kenyon's books to me; she'd described the Dark-Hunter series as being about vampire killers, etc., and I added them to my Booksfree list just out of curiosity. I didn't realize until I received The Dream-Hunter, and read the back, that it's part of a genre I eschew: romance. (pause for Wilhelm scream) Still, I gave it a try on my friend's recommendation. I'm still not 100% sure what to say about it.

Our main character is Megeara Kafieri, a buttoned-up, overly serious academic type. Her family has been obsessed with finding Atlantis, to the point of several people dying because of it; she promises to continue the quest when her father is on his deathbed, although she doesn't believe. Then she receives two items in her father's will that change her mind, and she throws herself into this quest.

Our other main character is Arikos, a Dream-Hunter. What's that? Um ... it's a little confusing. He was originally an Oneroi, a Greek god of sleep. Apparently, one of these guys did something eons ago to piss off Zeus, so he cursed them into emotionlessness. Now, the only time they can feel emotions is when they're floating around in the dreams of humans. An Oneroi who becomes addicted to emotions becomes a Skotos, which is what Arikos is. Naturally, he's a Skotos of the erotic variety, and has been shagging Megeara silly in her dreams.

Arikos is so curious about her that he makes a pact with Hades, who makes him human and tosses him in to the ocean by Megeara's research ship. Naturally, she's shocked to see him, and he makes up a rather lame cover story while being confused that she didn't immediately jump his bones. Then he contacts his "brother", another supernatural being, in order to procure the excavation permits Megeara needs to go hunting for Atlantis ... even though Arikos knows that all sorts of ancient goddess hell will break loose if she finds it.

All the stuff about the gods and goddesses, and the hierarchy and powers and all, is great and interesting. I liked the characterization of the mythological figures; at times it was funny, like Artemis' inability to "get" human slang. At times it was touching, like a brief reunion scene between Hades and Persephone.

If this had been a book primarily about them, and their battles and struggles, I think I'd've liked it more. However, this is definitely a romance novel with supernatural characters rather than the other way around, and that really rubs me the wrong way. All the "fire spread across his skin at her gentle touch" crap just makes me roll my eyes. Having sex in a pool of molten chocolate doesn't sound erotic to me, for instance--it sounds sticky and gross. Think about what happens when chocolate dries--it gets all crumbly and leaves behind a stick residue! And it's just like having sex in water or sand--some of it's gonna get where you don't want it! Okay, so they were in a dream, but still--just not an erotic image.

I'll be honest, I didn't even finish it. I carried it around in my purse for a couple of weeks and read it while waiting for appointments, etc., and it was never one of those books I just couldn't put down. By the time Megeara and Arikos get naked (like that's a spoiler, please), I was done. I skimmed the end, read occasional chunks, and saw it ended about like I expected. Here's where the trouble comes in: I didn't like it. I wouldn't recommend it. But I know that I don't like it simply because of what it is.

Book review: Big Girls Don't Cry by Cathie Linz

I came across this book by browsing "similar titles" on Amazon. I'd started out with some chick-lit book, and basically just started adding titles to my Booksfree queue. I thought this might be a nice light read.

When I got it in the mail and read the back cover, I got a bad feeling: "Cole is still the golden boy, a sexy charmer with commitment issues and a short attention span--until Leena and her curves strut into his life."

Nevertheless, I gave it a try. I made it about 80 pages in before I put it away in disgust. This is not a "chick lit" book. It's not an empowering story for fat girls (which is the type of book I was looking at when this popped up). It's a romance novel that was too long for Harlequin so it got published on its own.

It's full of cheesy set-ups--for instance, the main character, Leena (who just took total control of a vet's office and basically hired herself) starts hyperventilating (because her life sucks so much), and the male romantic lead who she's known for an hour solves this by .... kissing her. I gave up at the point where Leena is feeling insecure so dares said romantic lead to "prove" he's attracted to her with a make-out session. Leena's always doing things like putting her hands "on her curvaceous hips", blah blah blah.

I skipped to the end; it ends exactly as you'd expect. The "fat" girl with big city dreams realizes her home town isn't so bad, and throws away a second career chance for a guy (because, you know, you can't have both!) and a life in said town. It's a fairly standard story, but not one that impresses. I won't be checking out any more of Linz's books.

Book Review: Jemima J by Jane Green

(This is a pretty ranty review, I really didn't like this book.)

I'd actually read this book before a couple of years ago; I decided to re-read it because I remembered hating it but not why. What I remembered of it seemed fairly harmless. Well, I re-read it, and I still don't like it. There are several different issues with this book, so I'll try to address them separately.

First, the way this book is written is .... unique. Some of it is written from Jemima's point of view. Some of it is written in third person observing Jemima. And some of it is written in omniscient third person, watching other characters. Sometimes this narrator criticizes, sometimes hints at the future, sometimes empathizes. The entire thing is also in present tense. Having not read anything else by Jane Green, I don't know if this is typical of her writing or not. But it got old and annoying. Especially annoying was the way, when in third person, the characters' full names were used over and over--as if there were another Jemima in the book we might get confused about, or something.

Secondly, Jemima herself has little in the way of personality. She's every fat girl cliche you can list: She hates herself and her body. She's consumed with thoughts of food. She overeats; she eats mindlessly; she eats in secret. She's an emotional eater. She deludes herself into thinking what she eats in healthy when it's not. She's unhealthy--can't even walk up a flight of stairs without taking a rest. She has a "pretty face". She's not a virgin, but has never had good sex or a real relationship. She has no friends and blames it on her weight. She lets people walk all over her. She's always going to start a diet "tomorrow". She's so smart, and so talented, and so funny, and so special ... but nobody knows it because she's fat! Boo hoo! And, naturally, she's in love with the office hunk who's "out of her league"--because she fat. Although there's nothing terribly awful about the character, there's nothing special either--she's sort of your generic fat girl as pictured by someone skinny.

*****SPOILERS*****
Thirdly, the story itself is ... well ... sort of weirdly contrived. Essentially, Jemima becomes friends with her crush, Ben, but he then goes to work somewhere else. She meets someone from California on the Internet and drops a bunch of weight, then goes to meet him. At first it's all fun, until she discovers--gasp!--he likes fat girls! In fact, he has a fat girlfriend, but cooked up this scheme to get a "trophy girlfriend" to show off around LA. And somehow the fat girlfriend is okay with this. Because she "loves" him and he "needs" this. Jemima gets out of the situation, and in LA runs into Ben, who has seen her around, but didn't recognize her and thought she was the most beautiful women ever. She and Ben end up together.

Um, what? I assume this is supposed to be some sort of irony--oh, look at Jemima, she lost a bunch of weight for a chubby chaser! Ha ha! Oh but look, fate conspired to bring her and Ben together in LA, how lovely. And Ben's not a total douchebag for not loving her when she was fat, because she was his friend! So obviously he's not a shallow scum-sucker!

I'll grant this: the idea was cute, and original. It was just too thin a premise. And all the smug third-person narration about fate and how amazing Ben is, yadda yadda, got on my nerves.
*****END SPOILERS****

However, I think my biggest problem with this book is the fact that the author has very, very obviously never been fat. I could try to write a cohesive paragraph about this, but there's too much, so I'm resorting to lists.

1) Jane Green obviously has no idea what 200 pounds looks like:
Jemima supposedly weighs 217 pounds, yet the book is ripe with descriptions like "she rolls over onto her side, and tries to forget her stomach weighing down, sinking into the mattress". Chairs squash her thighs painfully. She can't cross her legs. The most offensive of all comes when describing a "chubby chasers" porn: Jemima says she used to look like these women, who are "not so much a woman, more a mountain of flesh" and who have "acres of flesh that would completely obliterate her genitalia". So 200 pounds is a disgusting pile of asexual flesh, with body parts that are capable all on their own of impacting furniture. Oh really? That'll be a surprise to my friends who weigh 255 or more like me, who still have husbands and boyfriends and one night stands. And can still sit on regular furniture and sleep in regular beds.

2) At one point, the third person narrator asserts that "yes, it is possible for Jemima to put on two or three pounds overnight". This just rubs me the wrong way. Anyone can do that. It's called water retention. But of course, it's weight, and she's a mindless fatty, therefore it must be fat. Ignorance.

3) Along with not knowing what 200 pounds looks like, the author seems to have a general disconnect with weight and clothing sizes. Jemima is 5'7", and yet at 120 pounds supposedly wears a size 8--which, if it's a British sizing, would be an American size 10. To juxtapose, my mother, at 140 and 5'3", wears a size four. At another point, Jemima puts on "26 inch" waist jeans. That would actually be an American size 2!
You could say that's just lack of research on Green's part, and maybe it is. But with 2 being the new 4, and 0 being the new 2, and popular culture vilifying fat, it just plays right in to the "you can never be skinny enough" BS. After all, if a 5'7" women at 120 pounds is a size 8 (horror of horrors!), then what would she have to weigh to be the "perfect" size 0?

4) The rates of weight loss given are completely unhealthy, and are basically a result of anorexia. Jemima is described as eating lettuce for lunch, and lettuce and chicken for dinner, while exercising prodigiously. She skips meals to exercise. She loses 22 pounds in a month, and the author's tone is congratulating. It's even more congratulating when she states that Jemima has lost "almost a whole person" later on. Ninety pounds is a whole person? Are you kidding me?

5) Jane Green apparently thinks that a pound of fat takes up a LOT more room than it does. Jemima at 217 pounds has a "quadruple" chin. She has no visible knees or waist. At 182 pounds, she merely has a "double chin", and miraculously has knees and a waist. And that 22 pound loss makes her "infinitely less huge" than she was before, and makes her face "unrecognizable". And yet, the crush, Ben, doesn't notice her weight loss. Even though he's sooooo wonderful and she's sooooo different.

6) Jemima loses 80 pounds in five months. She's been fat her whole life. And yet, miraculously, she has no stretch marks, no loose skin, nothing to clue in her Internet boyfriend that she used to be overweight. In fact, when she loses weight, she becomes perfect. Beyond perfect, actually. Strangers stare at her and hit on her. Men driving by in cars call their friends and say they just fell in love. The message is clear, and obviously part of the cultural fantasy of being thin: if you lose weight, you will become a traffic stopper. So stop eating, fatty!

7) Jane Green obviously buys into the fact that 1) all fat people overeat and 2) all fat people overeat out of boredom or depression. Because as soon as Jemima becomes interested in the Internet, she magically quits wanting chocolate! And as soon as she stops eating chocolate, or bacon sandwiches, she starts losing weight! And even when she starts eating normally again after acting anorexic for five months, the weight doesn't come back on like it does in the real world of starvation dieting.

8) If a guy likes fat girls, he's obviously a twisted pervert. Oh, and his mommy must have been fat.


Oh, at the end of the book Green makes a token effort at self-acceptance. After an emotional binge-eating episode (WHAT? THIN PEOPLE OVEREAT?!!!!@11! Oh wait, deep down she's a disgusting fatty. I forgot.), Jemima likes how her stomach is rounded (from food? WTF?). She realizes her low weight looks more like a boy than a woman (because she has small breasts. Again, WTF?), and decides--all at once--that "I'm not going to binge anymore, but I'm not going to stay obsessed with being as skinny as I can be." At the very end, she goes up A WHOLE SIZE (oh god) and is suddenly "curvy and feminine" but still eats "whatever, whenever" as long as its "reasonably healthy". Oh, and she gets the guy and the dream job and her life is perfect.

If the book didn't piss me off so much, I could've summed up the entire thing with one word: FAIL.