THOUGHTS on Nalini Singh's "Rock Hard"

"Rock Hard" is the second book in Nalini Singh's Rock Kiss series. I was not a fan of the first one,  "Rock Addiction," but Nalini Singh is an author I trust, so I thought I'd take a chance on "Rock Hard." I liked it better than the first book, but it wasn't a favourite. In this sort of case, where a book didn't elicit any extreme emotions for me, I previously wouldn't have bothered with one of these "THOUGHTS on" posts. But now that I've set up a new trio of criteria to consider,  I thought I'd examine whether "Rock Hard" passes my selected three tests for female presence in media. There may be what some people would consider spoilers in what follows, although I don't think there's really much of an external storyline to be spoiled, and given that this is basically a genre romance, you pretty much can guess what's going to happen in terms of the romantic arc.

1.0 THE SET-UP

Unlike Nalini Singh's Psy-Changeling and Guild Hunter series, there's not much in the way of world-building in her Rock Kiss series. These are contemporary romance novels, although the characters (at least, the heroes, so far) are "larger than life" in the sense that they are rock stars, or former pro athletes. The hero in "Rock Hard" is Gabriel Bishop, a former pro rugby player turned wealthy businessman, who has been hired as a temporary CEO for the failing business where Charlotte Baird, the heroine, works. Despite Charlotte's fear of him, Gabriel sees that she's one of the few competent employees and ends up promoting her to being his personal assistant. So how does Gabriel and Charlotte's story hold up to the three basic tests for feminism I've selected?

2.0 Charlotte Baird, Gabriel Bishop and the Mako Mori Test

Both Charlotte and Gabriel have their own independent narrative arcs (in addition to their romance). Charlotte needs to overcome her fear and trauma from a particularly horrific event from her past, and Gabriel needs to deal with his childhood-induced fear of being poor and helpless, as well as needing to learn to let go of the anger he has for his father. Given this, both Charlotte and pass the Mako Mori test in that they each have their own narrative arcs that are not about supporting the other's narrative arc.

The Mako Mori Test: 3/3

(i) has a female character ( Charlotte Baird)

(ii) who has her own narrative arc ( overcoming her fear and trauma), and 

(iii) that narrative arc is not about supporting a man's narrative arc 

3.0 Charlotte Baird, Gabriel Bishop and the Sexy Lamp Test

Gauging whether Charlotte passes the Sexy Lamp Test is bit more difficult to determine, given that the driving force of these sorts of romances, IMO, is not an external plot, but rather the resolution of an internal conflict. The question is whether the resolution of Charlotte's fear and trauma is something that results as a consequence of particular actions that Charlotte takes, or whether Charlotte could have been replaced by a (damaged) Sexy Lamp that gets glued back together by the hero.  I think that Charlotte does pass the Sexy Lamp Test. At one point, Charlotte pushes Gabriel into touching the back of her neck - something that previously (and consistently) would set her off into having a flashback/panic attack. Although Gabriel doesn't want to do anything that would cause her this sort of trauma, she insists that he does, and so takes an action that leads to the resolution of her internal conflict.  Thus, Charlotte passes the Sexy Lamp Test

 What about Gabriel? I think it's important for heroes to pass the Sexy Lamp test, in order to make sure that romance novels don't just mirror-image the sexism present in the majority of mass media. In terms of the resolution of Charlotte's internal conflict, Gabriel's actions do play a crucial role - although Charlotte pushes him to take these actions, he still decides to take the sorts of actions that, while they may induce short-term fear to Charlotte, eventually lead to the long-term (at least partial) resolution of her trauma.

What's less clear, however, is whether Gabriel plays an active role in terms of the resolution of his own internal conflict - i.e., his fear of being poor (as evidenced by his workaholic nature), and his unforgiving anger at his father. In this case, it is almost entirely Charlotte who diagnoses and leads Gabriel through his emotional issues. There aren't really any times where I can clearly see Gabriel taking actions that affect his own emotional arc.

The Sexy Lamp Test:   1/2

  Charlotte Baird

 Gabriel Bishop

4.0 Charlotte Baird, Molly Webster and the Bechdel Test

As for the Bechdel Test, while Charlotte has a good friend, Molly (the heroine of "Rock Addiction,") who supports her, the majority of their conversations are about men. In most cases, Charlotte and Molly are discussing Gabriel. At one point, Charlotte and Molly discuss Charlotte's traumatic past, but as the trauma in question was inflicted by a man, the conversation is still technically about a man. There are thus not really any clear-cut cases where it appears that "Rock Hard" passes the Bechdel Test.

The Bechdel Test: 2/3

(i) has at least two women in it ( Charlotte and Molly)

(ii) shows those women having a conversation (), where  

(iii) the aforementioned conversation is about something other than a man ( )

5.0 Conclusion

Overall I enjoyed reading "Rock Hard," although I didn't feel like it was anything special, and probably won't bother to re-read it. This isn't surprising since my favourite thing about Nalini Singh's writing is usually her intricate world-building and overarching plots, none of which are really present in "Rock Hard." I didn't find "Rock Hard" to be particularly original or funny, to have parts that made me feel really sad, feel any thrill of grandness, or parts that crushed me with their grittiness.

But even though "Rock Hard" is basically a contemporary romance, a variant on the boss-secretary plot bunny, "Rock Hard" passes most of my selected tests for feminism. I would claim that Charlotte as a heroine allows "Rock Hard" to pass the Mako Mori test and the Sexy Lamp test, although "Rock Hard" fails the Bechdel test:

Mako Mori:

Charlotte:    
Gabriel:  N/A, , 

Sexy Lamp:

Charlotte: 
Gabriel:  

Bechdel: 

Charlotte:  

Gabriel: N/A 

THOUGHTS on Amanda Quick's "Rendezvous" and "Mistress"

Rendezvous by Amanda Quick
My rating: 2 of 5 stars

This review is structured as a comparison/contrast between "Rendezvous" and another Quick novel, "Mistress."

Amanda Quick's "Mistress" is one of the first romance novels I've ever read, and it spurred me on to read Amanda Quick's entire backlist. "Rendezvous" has a somewhat similar dynamic between the hero and heroine, in that the hero prides himself on using reason and logic to guide his choices, while the heroine is an "original" more driven by emotions and intuition. However, while "Mistress" is an enjoyable comfort reread for me, my reread of "Rendezvous" left me unconvinced of the love story, and hence unsatisfied.

I liked the heroines of both books: the heroine of "Rendezvous," Augusta Ballinger, however, was slightly more difficult for me to relate to. Iphiginia Bright, the heroine of "Mistress," makes her decisions after a careful consideration of both her emotions and a logical, objective assessment of her circumstances (insofar as objectivity is possible). Augusta, on the other hand, prides herself on being a reckless Northumberland Ballinger, and often expresses her disdain for the the logical/objective approach. This made it harder for me to relate to her, since I personally value the ability to use logic as a tool for making decisions, and think that disdaining logic would be just as blind an approach as disdaining emotion. I still liked Augusta, however, particularly for how she emphasizes the importance of imagination and fun in life, and for how she fights for the inclusion of activities that encourage such values in her stepdaughter's curriculum.

It is often the case that Quick has "logical/scientific/academic" heroes who consider logic/reason/science and imagination/hypotheticals to be mutually exclusive. For instance, the hero of "Mistress," Marcus Cloud, the Earl of Masters, is a science/logic-driven hero who at one point in the book refuses to consider might-have-beens, and is only willing to consider "cold hard facts" in his arguments with Iphiginia. This annoyed me at first, since hypothetical reasoning is an important part of the scientific method, and Marcus, as a scientist and inventor, should know that! On further consideration, because Marcus does not seem to be a poor scientist, I ended up interpreting his refusal to consider the might-have-beens as poor argumentation skills driven by (i) his initial emotion immaturity and (ii) new emotions he didn't understand or acknowledge. This brings me to the most important point: Despite his arrogance in how he believes his reasoning always leads to the right conclusions, I still fell in love with Marcus because he seemed vulnerable to me in his loneliness, and in his fear for his brother's livelihood. I also loved how he was mature enough to understand that he would have to sacrifice his pride and change his long-established "rules" if he wanted to be with Iphiginia, and even better, that he was mature enough to admit this to Iphiginia. I feel like I would have fallen in love with Marcus if I was Iphiginia, and so I totally bought the love story. I also liked Marcus' dry humour, and even found his amusement at Iphiginia's innocence to be cute, as opposed to condescending, probably because he never took her ignorance as a reason to lessen his respect for her intellect.

In contrast, "Rendezvous" didn't work for me, primarily because I found the hero, Harry, the Earl of Graystone, to be unjustifiably overbearing and condescending to the point of being cruel to the heroine. For instance, at one point, when the heroine brings up her worries regarding their upcoming marriage, the following exchange ensues:

"I'm glad you find it so amusing," she whispered.

"Not amusing so much as a waste of time. I have seen you attempting to grapple with this sort of thing before, if you will recall. Your reasoning gets muddled quickly, my dear."

The way I read this, the hero manages to both

(i) imply that Augusta is incapable of logical reasoning, and

(ii) say that her concerns about her future are a waste of his time.

I would be furious at anyone that said I was incapable of logical reasoning and I would seriously re-consider marrying anyone who felt that my concerns were a waste of his time. And although there was a point where Harry supposedly realized he loved Augusta (i.e., that their relationship involved emotion, and not logic), I didn't really see any change in the way he treated Augusta afterwards. So I really couldn't understand how Augusta could fall in love with Harry, and thus didn't really believe in the love story.

Writing this up now, I realize that Augusta might not consider Harry's words above to be as much of an insult as I would consider them to be, since she is more disdainful of logic and reason than I am, and hence might not care if someone thought she was incapable of reason. But the disrespect he shows her in the above passage is still too blatant for me to swallow. So despite my view that people should at least try to consider facts objectively when assessing the merit of a thing (or future action), the Anaïs Nin quote "We don't see things as they are, we see them as we are" plays a big role in why "Rendezvous" didn't work for me, while "Mistress" remains one of my favourite romance re-reads.

View all my reviews

THOUGHTS on "The Masque of the Black Tulip" by Lauren Willig

The Masque of the Black Tulip by Lauren Willig
My rating: 2 of 5 stars

I don't mind historical wallpapers, where the historical circumstances don't have much impact on the character's choices and actions. But if the social circumstances of the historical period are just wallpaper for a romance novel, then I expect either the plot, or complex aspects of the hero/heroine's character (or some combination of those) to drive/constrain the hero and heroine in a similar way. I didn't feel like "The Masque of the Black Tulip" succeeded at this.

Plot-wise, I felt like it takes too long for the stakes to raise. For the majority of the book, the external "conflict" is a vague threat of the french spy, the Black Tulip, being in London. It isn't until the last ten percent of the book that the threat becomes better-defined. There is also a lack of internal conflict driving their choices/actions. Henrietta's background is pretty nondramatic. Miles' background is slightly more interesting in that he was for the most part, abandoned by his family. But even given this, there aren't situations where it seems like Miles' background is clearly driving his decisions.

So, because the external conflict is so vaguely-defined for so long, and there isn't really any motivating internal conflict, I often had trouble understanding why Miles and Henrietta behave in the ways that they do. Consequently, many of Miles and Henrietta's interactions seemed contrived and random to me, and I didn't really feel compelled to keep reading (until I hit that last 10%). I do always like the "friends-fall-in-love" trope, though, and I do think that Willig does do a good job showing how close Miles and Henrietta are. I just would have liked the book better if there was something compelling the progression of the book's build-up to its climax.

If you liked this book, I'd read: I prefer Joanna Bourne's "Spymaster" Series - more complexity, more gravity, and more heartstring-tugging. Or, if you liked how light this was, and you liked Miles and Henrietta's random conversations, I'd try Julia Quinn's "Just Like Heaven." (...although there are no spies)


View all my reviews

THOUGHTS on "A Hidden Fire" by Elizabeth Hunter

A Hidden Fire by Elizabeth Hunter
My rating: 2 of 5 stars

I really enjoyed the first half of this book (it pulled me out of a reading slump), but the second half didn't live up to my expectations. I kept expecting the stakes to rise, or for the plot to kick it into high gear, but the climax of the book seemed rather simple and low-key to me. It mostly went off without a hitch. The post-climax (in Chile) was also a bit disappointing in that it didn't seem well-integrated into the overall structure of the book. I think it was supposed to (it also succeeded in) developing the relationship between the two main characters, but I felt like it was contrived solely for that purpose. I would have enjoyed it more if their developing relationship was more interwoven with the circumstances of the plot.

I also had a few issues with the characterization. In particular, other characters kept informing me that the heroine, B, was clever/smart, but I had trouble believing it since the evidence for their assertions seemed, to me, rather slim. There were instances where she was very composed under circumstance where we might expect a freak-out, but I don't equate composure with cleverness. We know she works in a library and are told she loves books, but again, being rather bookish myself, I'm fairly sure bookishness doesn't entail being smart. We are also shown circumstances where she shows a high degree of skill, but this wasn't presented in a way that made me think "oh wow, she IS smart." Bea seemed to present a normal degree of intelligence to me, which normally wouldn't bother me...except for the fact that other characters in the book kept telling me she was smart!

Another little thing that bothered me in the characterization is that Bea and Giovanni were very often smirking in circumstances where I didn't think smirks were warranted - smiles yes, but smirks no. Although maybe this is just a lexical quirk of mine, where 'smirk' indicates a derisive smile, and pretty much acts as an indication of someone finding humour in someone's (usually someone else's) unenviable circumstances. Since this is what 'smirk' evokes for me, it made the characters seem oddly derisive of each other, until started pretending that 'smirk' just meant 'smile.'

Overall, a good book, but I don't know if I'll read the next one. I actually had a hard time forcing myself through the "teaser" for the next book, I cared so little what was happening.



View all my reviews

THOUGHTS on "A Night Like This" by Julia Quinn (or why her newer books don't seem to work for me(\)

A Night Like This by Julia Quinn
My rating: 2 of 5 stars

One thing I enjoyed about Quinn's previous books are that they are highly character-driven; there is often little plot, and little world-building (these being wallpaper historicals), but the books are still engaging purely because of the character development, and the development of the relationship between hero and heroine. My reading preferences are such that I take this development of the characters and their relationship to be THE key element in a romance.

The reason why I think Quinn's newer work, like "A Night Like This" (and "Just Like Heaven" to an even higher degree) doesn't work as well for me as her earlier work (eg, "The Viscount who Loved Me" and "The Duke and I"), is that the obstacles that the characters face in these books are external, as opposed to internal. So, whereas Anthony and Kate's obstacles in "The Viscount who Loved Me" were personal demons (fear of storms, of dying young), the obstacles facing Anne and Daniel in "A Night Like This" are external (the possibility of Sir George Chervil's threat to Anne, Lord Ramsgate's fury at Daniel, society frowning upon a match between an Earl and a governess). While there is nothing inherently wrong with having external obstacles as opposed to internal ones, they are problematic in a wallpaper historical, where the circumstances of external world are not as mitigating as they would be in a more traditional historical. More specifically, I feel like the external obstacles in "A Night like This" were too easily resolved, and led to little or no growth on the part of the characters. For books that are mostly character-driven, this is a huge loss.

Take the frowned-upon match between an Earl and a governess as an example. Many of Anne's decisions were affected by the reasonable assumption that Daniel could never marry her, due to the strictures of the society they live in. This view of the world was reiterated by side-characters (eg. Lady Pleinsworth), and seemed to pose a serious problem. But the resolution of this problem was hardly a resolution at all - the hero just ignores the strictures of society, decides to marry her, and the consequences of this decision are not addressed at all. This obstacle fails to develop Daniel and Anne's characters in any interesting way, and also makes the world they live in feel inconsistent. It's as if Anne is living in a traditional historical, but Daniel is living in a wallpaper historical (sometimes).

Another thing that I often enjoyed about Quinn's previous novels is the quirkiness of the side characters, which often shows up in the cute dialogue sequences. At some points in this book (and the previous in the Smythe-Smith quartet), however, some of the dialogue seemed too random and irrelevant, to the point where it was slightly irritating.

Having said that, however, I did enjoy reading the book, even though it didn't engage me as much as I would have preferred. Daniel and Anne are likeable characters, and the side-characters are too.

If you liked this book, I'd read: Her earlier work! I particularly enjoyed "The Viscount who Loved Me" and "The Duke and I."

View all my reviews