If you don’t like the love interest in a Juliet Marillier book, your experience is doomed. This is the first time this has happened to me (or maybe the second, if you count Cybele’s Secret, but that was more ambivalence than dislike, and I disliked the heroine even more, so I don’t think it counts).
The book started out promisingly enough, with a different kind of hero to Marillier’s normal type. He was actually indifferent and even kind of a jerk to the heroine! I thought it would be interesting to see how he grew and developed. Then I became unsure whether he would even be the love interest, or if it might be Sam instead, since he seemed to fit the nice guy mould more. That could set it up for some conflict between Thorvald and Sam and/or Creidhe and her younger sister. I enjoyed the first half of the book as it built up towards the inevitable confrontation.
My expectation was that it would be one of these two men, and I definitely wasn’t expecting some rando guy to come along from nowhere at the halfway mark and have Creidhe fall inexplicably, passionately in love with him in the space of a few days. I mean, sure, there was the episode where he nurses her back to health, keeping her warm with his body and the other intimacies such a convalescence entails. There was also his reverence of her as his “goddess”, which, if you ask me, was a bit much, and his respect for her handicraft (unlike Thorvald). And there was his devotion to his dead sister and nephew. Other than that, and even despite these things, I cannot see what Creidhe saw in Keeper to draw her to him. I remain convinced, despite Marillier’s attempts to persuade me otherwise, that it would actually be possible to have someone of the opposite sex take care of you while you’re sick, and NOT fall in love with them. He sounded completely unattractive to me. I was just like, “girrrrrrl, NO! Ewwww!”Apparently as long as you are ridiculously solicitous, patient, gentle, considerate, constantly gazing at the heroine and asking her personal questions, she will fall in love with you. I need more – some personality, perhaps. Maybe a sense of humour. More than a slavish sense of devotion and fanatical loyalty, anyway. Every time she experienced a moment of physical attraction to him, I was like, “yuck yuck yuck yuck yuck!” And during the hunt I was chanting, “Die die die die die!” Does that make me cold-hearted?
If so, I’m not the only one, because Keeper had an absolute heart of ice towards the men he killed. And this was a big problem for me, that it wasn’t a big problem for Creidhe. She understood why the men of the Long Knife people undertook the hunt, and felt bad for the men Keeper had killed and how they’d been treated after death, but Keeper didn’t fall in her estimation because of it. Shouldn’t his complete lack of sympathy, empathy and remorse towards these men have given her more pause? It seemed to me he was incredibly gentle and protective towards those he loved, but if you harm one of his dear ones, he will hunt you down, torture and kill you if necessary, and hang your body out so you get no rest after death – and it will only be what you deserve. That sounds more like a psychopath to me than potential husband material. There have been many men in our history who have been wonderful towards their wives and children while ruthlessly dispatching their enemies. And they are not good role models. These men were not just coming for the fun of it, but to save their children’s lives; nor am I sure they knew what would happen to Foxmask in the ritual. For him to be so callous towards them sat very badly with me.
Keeper was the main thing that dragged the second half down for me, but he wasn’t the only thing. With the whole book building up to the Hunt, I found the actual event to be quite anticlimactic. I was looking forward to the whole two-day affair, and I couldn’t believe it when Thorvald sent all the men back after the first day. That was the stupidest thing ever, and I’ve started to notice how Marillier gets her characters to do things she wants them to, that seem ridiculous and dumb, simply by them ‘knowing in their hearts’ that it’s the right thing. Even the intellectual ones, like Thorvald, know when to listen to their hearts at the convenient moment to do something that sounds utterly absurd. I’m sure that with the whole contingent to help, Thorvald and his men could’ve got Foxmask out of that cave on the second day without too much trouble. Sure, it all worked out in the end, but Thorvald couldn’t have known that. And sending the men back at the start of the second day just screamed, “It’s a trap!” Stupid, ridiculous and foolish.
I also didn’t appreciate how the three original friends treated each other throughout the book. I know, that was partly the point, but I don’t enjoy reading about friendships gone wrong. Thorvald was a jerk to both Creidhe and Sam, but Sam and Creidhe both repeatedly accused Thorvald of selfish motives in helping out the Long Knife people when, for once, he was actually acting from basically pure motives in that situation. I wouldn’t have minded if their accusations were fair, but it wasn’t pleasant to read the repeated recriminations and attacks of those closest to him – it must have been demoralising, particularly when he was already given to so much self-loathing, doubt and fear.
Speaking of Thorvald’s self-hate, I’m still unclear how exactly he went from being an emo teenager to such a great, encouraging leader. Particularly when he is still such a jerk to Creidhe. I would have thought his transformation would have been more well-rounded?
The most infuriating part of the second half, though (other than Creidhe’s bad love interest), was Thorvald’s Lie. UGH. I had to stop listening for a little bit because I was so vexed. Marillier gives us some insight into why he felt it was necessary, but I didn’t buy it. They were travelling away from the island where the guy lives, the tide to that island was only (normally) passable two days a year, and pretty soon she will be travelling back to her home islands. If there’s one place in all the world where a girl can feel pretty safe from her (alleged) violator, it’s here. Thorvald does NOT need to betray her trust by telling her the guy’s dead. Marillier evidently just thought the story would be improved by Creidhe going home depressed and literally wasting away for a while. No. That was just infuriating too. The whole thing was dumb.
Just one more gripe with the book and then I’m done: I wasn’t on board with the rewriting of history when it came to Somerled. The way his internal monologue went, it made it sound like he was sort of well-intentioned when he was younger, but despite himself, everything he touched turned to ashes. His recent reluctance to act stemmed from his fear that even now he might do terrible things if he gained power, so he couldn’t trust himself. As if that’s how it happened before; he acted like an evil megalomaniac despite himself.
Um, that’s not how I remembered it. He raped women. Repeatedly. He deliberately, systematically usurped his brother’s position to gain power, fomented division between his own people and the natives, burned people to death in their homes and was about to kill his own best friend. That’s no “oops, things didn’t turn out as planned.” It’s not like he was helplessly falling down this destructive path, perhaps being led astray by others or through contrary circumstances. That’s all coldly, calmly premeditated and executed. It’s nice to imagine Somerled turning over a new leaf, but I don’t buy this interpretation of the past, and frankly, I don’t really, truly buy that Brother Neale is Somerled 18 years later. In my mind, they’re two different characters. There is a cognitive dissonance there. Also, as a side note, from what I’ve seen in real life, terrible people can definitely repent and reform, but they tend to energetically devote themselves to doing good afterwards, rather than hold back from any action in fear of what they might do.
In spite of all of this, I definitely won’t give up on Juliet Marillier, because I know she can write amazing stories. Sometimes. I just hope I approve of the next love interest. I could have forgiven all of the other irritations if I’d liked the dude. It makes all the difference!