Review | S.E.C.R.E.T., L. Marie Adeline

16099174Despite being partly influenced by the publishing success of E. L. James’ 50 Shades of Grey, L. Marie Adeline’s S.E.C.R.E.T. is nothing like 50 Shades. There is a romance in Adeline’s book, but it’s almost incidental, barely even explored. Rather, S.E.C.R.E.T. is about a woman’s journey to self-discovery through sexual fulfillment. At times, S.E.C.R.E.T. reads more like a self-help book than erotica, and that’s not just because the erotic scenes are (in my limited experience with erotic fiction at least) very vanilla. The focus of the story is very much on protagonist Cassie Robichaud’s struggle to gain self-confidence and believe in herself, independent of a relationship.

I received the 89 page sampler of this book over the holidays — I was drawn in to Cassie’s situation and wanted to keep reading to see her succeed. I love the concept behind the book — a woman has a series of sexual fantasies fulfilled, and she is in control the entire time. The men are, for the most part, meant to be anonymous — they are there primarily to give the woman pleasure, in ways she decides. It’s a reversal of traditional notions of porn, and a welcome departure from the usual literary formula of women having amazing, mind blowing sex only when paired with romance.

Unfortunately, Adeline ends up emphasizing the self-empowerment angle a tad too much. It’s great seeing Cassie come into her own, and I love that when offered a couple of chances at romantic relationships, Cassie instead opts to continue with the S.E.C.R.E.T. program. But there were times when reading the book felt like watching Oprah or Dr. Phil. Particularly in the latter half of the book, the dialogue and narration became much more earnest, even saccharine, and while I’m all for self-empowerment, I hate feeling preached at. Enough, already. For a book with such an innovative concept, the latter half devolved into more traditional, touchy-feely fare. One of the scenes near the end, a non-sexual step, where Cassie is prompted to do something she’d never dared before seriously felt like a Saved by the Bell episode.

The erotic scenes, as I mentioned were fairly vanilla. I understand every woman has a different set of fantasies, and Adeline appears to have attempted to cover the most generic ones, so that at least one of them would probably appeal to each reader. Personally, I thought the fantasies could have been hotter, and even the hottest ones seem to have been toned down. There are erotic details, but the fantasies themselves seem like a Disney-fied version of Harlequin Blaze. Adeline does not pull back on sexual details, but the men were a series of sweet, gentlemanly Prince Charmings. This, admittedly, is a personal response more than anything. Each woman has different sexual fantasies, and while some of Cassie’s fantasies may leave me cold, I’m sure they will appeal to a lot of other readers. As well, some of the erotic scenes are really well-written and sensual, taking the reader into Cassie’s experience.

That being said, and I think this is because Adeline tried to cover such a wide range of fantasies, the scenes themselves felt generic. The men were one-dimensional, which is understandable given the story’s focus, but they seemed faceless, cardboard cutouts and hardly erotic.  Worse, after the first few, they started to feel like paint by number scenes — different man, different situation, perhaps different method, but overall, utterly bland, forgettable and almost interchangeable. It felt like going through the motions of fantasies, ticking a number of boxes, but ultimately lacking the fire. There is a development to Cassie’s responses to the fantasies, which is good, but with the exception of the subplot love interest, who was woefully underdeveloped, the men eventually started looking like a succession of Ken dolls.

I did like how many of the men complimented Cassie’s looks. At first, like Cassie, I figured it was all just part of the fantasy, but as other men started doing it, like Cassie, I also began wondering if perhaps she really was much more attractive than she realized. The scattered references to 50 Shades were amusing, and so subtle that I wondered if they were even planned. (I hope they were!) I also liked the bit of romance at the end, though I found it much too rushed. The ending felt forced, written only to set up for the sequel.

Wonderful concept, uneven execution, but overall worth a read just for the idea behind it.

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Thank you to Random House Canada for a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.

Review | The Saint Zita Society, Ruth Rendell

cover-1The Saint Zita Society is an upstairs/downstairs-type story about the servants who live in Hexam Place, London. The eponymous society is a loosely organized servant union that serves as little more than a chance for the servants to get together and talk. Ruth Rendell is primarily known as a crime writer, and a crime is indeed committed midway through the book. However, the focus of the story is on the soap opera-like relationships between the residents of the building.

I love the upstairs/downstairs genre, and Rendell’s cast of colourful characters easily suck the reader into a world of sex, scandal and secrets. My personal favourite was Thea, who declares at the first meeting of the Saint Zita Society:

“I am not a servant.” Thea helped herself to a handful of mixed nuts. “You may be but I’m not.”

“What are you then?” said Beacon.

“I don’t know. I just do little jobs for Damian and Roland. You want to remember I’ve got a degree.” [p. 2]

The sad reality is that Thea does these little jobs for free and that Damian and Roland, her landlords, take advantage of her. She is acutely aware that while they found her useful, they didn’t particularly like her. They didn’t even care enough to ask what she did for a living (teaching IT and word processing part-time) and “were only nice to her when they wanted to ask a favour or had a reason to be particularly cheerful.” [pp. 36 – 37]

I love the glimpse into the perceived social hierarchy even within the “downstairs” world, and I found Thea’s desire to connect with her “upstairs” world landlords on an equal footing tragic.

I’m a major fan of crime fiction, but to be honest, I would have preferred it if Rendell hadn’t included the crime element at all, nor the menacing presence of a character who thinks a god speaks to him over his mobile phone. Rendell had created such a rich world with her characters that I wanted to spend more time exploring their lives, without (and this feels very odd for me to say) being distracted by the crime angle.

I also wanted the Saint Zita Society to play a larger role in the story. Admittedly, this may just be a personal preference on my part rather than a commentary on the quality of the storytelling, but given the major social gap between the servants and their bosses, I would have loved to see how the bosses would have reacted to the servants actually taking a stand. Rendell does touch on some injustices, such as Thea’s invisibility to her landlords and the pressure exerted upon a young valet to sleep with his boss’s wife, even though he is really interested in the daughter. However, she pulls short of focusing on the social commentary, and personally, I think that would have made the novel more interesting.

Finally, I really, absolutely hated the ending. To be fair, this is an emotional reaction more than an objective assessment of the quality of the ending. I don’t know if it felt as rushed and unnecessary to other readers as it did to me, but in any case, I was pissed off at what Rendell did with one of the characters. So if the author was attempting to elicit an emotional response, she succeeded. Still, I hated it.

Overall, Saint Zita is a good book. The characters were engaging, and the multiple story lines fascinating. Still, even without taking into account the ending, I wish Rendell could have done much more with it.

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Thank you to Random House Canada for a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.

Review | Speaking from Among the Bones, Alan Bradley

coverThe fifth in Alan Bradley’s Flavia de Luce series begins with blood. An image of John the Baptist’s head in Salome’s hand looms over the pulpit at St. Tancred’s in full colour stained glass. The narrator muses on the vicar’s words, that “in Old Testament times, our blood was taught to contain our lives.” [p. 4] One can almost see the darkened church and hear the portentous music.

Suddenly, the narrator’s reflections on the gory image are cut off:

Of course!

Blood!

Why hadn’t I thought of this before?

“Feely,” I said, tugging at her sleeve. “I have to go home.” [p. 4]

Last spring, the news broke that the Flavia series has been optioned for TV movies, and with such an opening, it’s easy to see why. The rapid switch in mood is comedic gold, and you can just see it on screen as the introduction to this week’s adventure with a beloved series character.

Speaking from Among the Bones is classic Flavia fare. A dead body is found inside the tomb of the village saint, and Flavia, who is “almost twelve” in this instalment, is once more on the case. The mystery itself isn’t my favourite among Bradley’s books, though that may just be a personal preference for Christmas, filmmaking and Shakespeare over archaeology, botany, and a long-lost jewel. There were also moments when Flavia’s taste for the grotesque felt a bit much — more grating than endearing. For example:

Dangerous killers on the loose! The words which every amateur sleuth lives in eternal hope of hearing.

[…] “A matter of life and death!” That other great phrase! Perhaps even greater than “dangerous killers on the loose.”

My cup of crime runneth over, I thought. [p. 306]

Such passages remind me of how young Flavia is, and when used too often, can make her seem callous. That being said, Bradley counteracts these reactions with thoughtful passages that reveal how shaken Flavia is by the murders. For example, a careless remark that “Feely will simple die.” leads Flavia to think about the murder victim and how he died. “Nothing simple about that,” she thinks. “Nobody ever simply dies.” [p. 271] It’s a sobering thought, and one that reveals much more than it purports to.

I probably learned the most science from this book, than from the rest of the series. Did you know, for example, that “blood from the arteries has more oxygen and less nitrogen, while blood from the veins is the opposite”? [p. 285] It is to Bradley’s credit that Flavia’s lecturing never feels boring or unnecessary. And then there are the lovely observations that reveal how magical science can be. For example, did you know seeds from hundreds of years ago can still be planted and grown?

“A seed is a remarkable vessel,” he told me. “Our one true time machine. Each of them is capable of bringing the past, alive, into the present. Think of that!” [p. 77]

Flavia’s family is central to this novel as well, with the mystery of the saint tied closely to whether or not Flavia’s father will be able to keep the Buckshaw estate. Flavia’s sister Feely is reaching marriageable age, and I love her developing romance with Dieter, who “has nothing to offer but love.” [p. 65]

Long-time Flavia fans know her insecurities about her mother Harriet, who disappeared when Flavia was a baby. Flavia’s sisters enjoy teasing her about how much Harriet hated her, and how Flavia is barely like Harriet at all. In this book, there’s an absolutely lovely scene in the middle of the book where Flavia’s father speaks to her about her mother. I won’t post an excerpt here, because I want you to experience the full impact of reading the scene for the first time within the context of the novel. It’s a lovely, revealing moment, only a couple of pages long and sandwiched between more action-packed scenes, but it moved me to tears.

Flavia fans will enjoy this novel, but I will recommend new readers to begin with an earlier book in the series. Elements in this story delve deep into the characters and while even new readers may understand what’s going on, I think I Am Half-Sick of Shadows (Book 4) sets up the family dynamic much more comprehensively, and will set up a better appreciation of the events in this book.

A final note: the ending. Oh my god, the ending. A handwritten note from Lindsey at Random House Canada warned, “P.S. Ainsley said the ending was crazy!” And, well, yes it is. Particularly the last line. Talk about a cliff-hanger! Part of me is annoyed at Bradley taking the episodic serial TV format a bit too far, but really, all I want is even more Flavia de Luce. When is Book 6 coming out again?

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Speaking from Among the Bones will be on-sale January 29.

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Thank you to Random House Canada for an advanced reading copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.

(Full disclosure: As with all Flavia books, when I received this ARC, I squee’d even before I began reading it. Flavia fans will understand why. 😉 )