3.5
The second full novel from Diana Biller was a highly anticipated event for me because I really enjoyed her debut novel from a couple of years ago and it felt like ages for a new release. But while I enjoyed aspects of this second book, it did unfortunately fall short of expectations, and I think overall, even a week after I read it, I'm left mostly with a lingering feeling of melancholy at the story that was told. I hesitate to call this a romance, though there is a happy ending, kind of. I found that the romance is submerged, and then the moments when it reappears, I felt somewhat startled to remind myself that the main couple are in love. I'm not sure if my response to this one is based more on expectations given the first book in this series, but I suspect there is some of that going on.
This second book follows the family saga of the Moores, an eccentric group of brilliant scientists, all of whom have a penchant for falling in love with romantically challenging people. Benedict Moore took a bit of time for me to warm to here, as he is a more retiring figure in a family of flamboyant extroverts. His quiet and steady nature won me over though in the course of the story, and he proved himself many times over to be hero-worthy of a very broken heroine. This book though is about Amelie who is hanging onto life by a thread. She's a prima ballerina in the glamorous Paris opera house at the turn of the century, but unbeknownst to everyone there, her body is failing her. A tragic accident from the past causes her debilitating pain. Biller depicts these moments so vividly that I could perfectly envision the torment Amelie endured in each performance. The book sets up a sequence of events that seal Amelie's fate and cage her in so that she has few options left. Her tragedies are reminiscent of the heroines of early realist novels, such as one might encounter in an Edith Wharton novel. Amelie is a victim of poverty caused by the premature death of her tragic figure of a mother and the doom brought on Parisians during the siege of Paris. Left to fend for herself and her young sister, Amelie turns to her dancing as the only means to survive aside from prostitution, which she also does, to keep herself and her sister afloat. Poverty, threat to her survival, grief of a loved one, and physical pain define her existence for most of the book. Add in a ghoul of a villain, and Amelie is a Tragic Figure of extraordinary proportions.
This is though a second chance love story too, and with Benedict's return to Paris, it wouldn't be too amiss to believe that the trope of the white knight is about to be deployed. Benedict's presence in Amelie's life is misleading however because she is not able to let down her guard and be saved by a man, not after the disaster she saw firsthand with her mother's own prostitution and early demise. Any hope that Benedict can save Amelie from her pain is pretty quickly dashed, leaving us mired in more sadness - right up to nearly the final pages.
Benedict's return also strangely ushers in an array of ghosts. One ghost haunted his brother's fiance in the first novel, but here, it's a bunch of them. As Amelie walks the streets of Paris, they follow along chatting and even bickering. While paranormal elements worked well for me in the first book, I did struggle with them here, as I don't think their inclusion is essential. They do bring morals that Amelie must sift through and some life lessons to ponder, but still, I wondered if high concepts like these needed ghosts or if ghosts are simply a part of this author's repertoire now? In this book the ghosts felt almost like comic relief at times, even with the tragedies that cause them to linger in purgatory.
Despite this book being quite plot driven in terms of events that unfold that lead Amelie to a better place in her life - one where she can believe herself worthy of love - the ending felt rushed to me. Ghostly apparitions are dispelled conveniently, villains are handily dealt with (though not satisfactorily enough), romance is elevated, and an HEA is declared. I'm still left feeling weighted down by all that the heroine endures and the sadness that kept two lovers apart for a decade. I wanted more romantic time with Amelie and Benedict in present day and felt undersold on their future life together. There is one sex scene inserted near the end of the book that felt artificially plunked in to satisfy readers but did not work for me at all.
Biller is an adept writer and so this book kept me glued to it throughout, even in spite of my reservations. I do very much want to read her next one. Really hoping it centers on Henry, as he continues to be a pull in every small appearance he makes across both books now.