I wasted a couple of hours this weekend reading what may be the worst gothic romance ever. I am sure you are thinking that I am exaggerating, but I'm telling you that not only was this a failed gothic, it was a boring and uninspired story, no matter the genre. When I started this blog, I decided to avoid reviews of bad books. Enjoying a book is a very subjective thing and I didn't want to get caught up in all the negativity, so I planned to feature books on the blog that I thought were, at the very least, solid examples of their genre. That said, I feel it is my civic duty as a humanitarian and a librarian to warn people away from this book.
Now those of you who know me (and if you're reading this blog, it is safe to say that you know me since I'm pretty sure that my readership is still a very limited group), know that there is nothing I love more than a gothic romance. I love everything about them. I cut my teeth on DuMaurier and Holt. I love the ancient, crumbling houses, the angst ridden, but heartstoppingly gorgeous heroes, I love the rainy/foggy/snowy weather that traps the innocent yet plucky heroine in said house with said hero. I even love the book covers that almost always feature a young woman in a gown running from a dark house. I love all of the cliches. I embrace them. I celebrate them. I will read a gothic no matter how bad the reviews are and I can almost always find something to appreciate about them. This was not the case with A House at Sandalwood by Virginia Coffman.
Coffman is a respected writer of gothics. Her career spanned decades and she turned out what some consider to be a classic with her Moura series. I haven't read many works by Coffman. I decided that I needed to remedy that when I stumbled on the above title. I almost decided it wasn't for me when I realized that it was set in Hawaii. Hawaii is not the Yorkshire Moors or even foggy San Francisco and it seemed an unlikely place to set a gothic. Still, this one apparently took place on a private island. An isolated spot controlled by a powerful man. So far, so good. So what if it sunny and beautiful, Hawaii gets the occasional storm, so I plowed on. The next element that almost caused me to set it aside was that it was a contemporary. Now I have always preferred historical gothics, but I have read a few decent contemporaries and since the book was published in 1974, I felt sure that I wouldn't be dealing with computers and cell phones and modern devices that might pull me out of the sense of isolation that is so often the key to a good gothic. After having dealt with my initial quibbles, I settled in with hopes of losing myself in the plight of our naive but plucky heroine. The heroine was a not so naive, 33 year old Judith Cameron. Convicted of the murder of her sister-in-law, Judith has been released and summoned to this lush Hawaiian island to care for her childlike niece, Deirdre. Deirdre has recently married the handsome, successful Stephen Giles, but finds she is unable to handle the rigors of being a wife and the mistress of a home like Sandalwood.
At this point, any gothic reader worth their salt has already figured a few things out. Stephen will be regretting his marriage to the incredibly annoying and emotionally stunted Deirdre. He and Judith will be instantly attracted to each other. Deirdre may very well have a screw loose. At some point Deirdre will tragically lose her life, probably while trying to push Judith or Stephen off of one of the many cliffs on this island, and our hero and heroine will be left to console each other and to live out their days in this tropical paradise. At least that is how Victoria Holt or I would have written it. In fact, Coffman tells a far different tale. Stephen is regretting his marriage, Judith and he are attracted to each other, Deirdre does seem to have a major screw loose, but instead of mining this set up for gothic gold, Coffman pulls a minor character murderer out of her hat, leaves poor, decent Stephen stuck with a wife who stopped maturing at around 12 years old and sends Judith off to pursue a new life back on the mainland, while wishing crazy niece and her hubby the best of luck in fixing their mess of a marriage!
WTF? What kind of self-respecting gothic writer would do that to a reader. I wasted two hours of my life waiting for some sort of romantic pay off and this is what I get??? Foul on the play, Virginia Coffman. I was so incensed I briefly considered writing Ms. Coffman a letter outlining my outrage, however since she has been dead for some time, that seemed a somewhat futile gesture. Nothing makes me see red like a genre writer who doesn't respect the genre. You can change things up, throw in a curve ball every now and then, but to change all the rules midstream is truly unfair to genre readers. So, in lieu of the aforementioned letter, I decided that I would use my newly created blog to warn gothic romance fans to run, don't walk, run as fast as you can away from A House at Sandalwood. Gothic romance my foot!
No comments:
Post a Comment