Warning: spoilers ahead.
Congratulations Mr. Read on disturbing/irritating me so much that I’m writing my first Goodreads review in over a year.
I read a lot of Russian Revolution fiction. It’s my research area, so I feel obligated to explore what’s out there. The spectrum of plots on offer is…not that wide, actually, and typically one knows beforehand what to expect: middle- to upper-class protagonist, usually a woman, more than half the time she’s British, every man who sees her is in love with her instantly, and the overarching plot is a romance in an effort, perhaps, to soften the otherwise brutal, bloody history.
Check, check, check, check, check.
Add to this muddled politics, flat characters, needless detail, too-convenient plot lines, and flagrant sexism, and it’s not exactly a recipe for a delightful, complex read.
Alice is a mess. Her character is driven by lust, and while that in and of itself is fine, adding “free-thinking” and “feminist” to her character to make her more a more complex and rounded person doesn’t really work if they aren’t fully-integrated aspects of her personality. In fact, her lustful nature is an extension of these attributes, as if they are an excuse. "Of course she's horny, she's a feminist!" As if that were all there was to it. In Alice's case, unfortunately, that's true.
Her political philosophy is nebulous at best, having no impact on her day-to-day life or outlook, and anyway it falls by the wayside every time she falls for a man with a bucket of money and property attached to his name, which is often. She gives the contradiction some thought, never for long, and then romps off back to her coddled existence. The conditions of workers and peasants in Russia leave no imprint on her whatsoever, and as they flee from the Bolsheviks she “through her love of Rettenberg, had enthusiastically adopted the White cause.” Her convictions are swayed by the sweet, sweet D. Admirable.
Rettenberg…I don’t often actively despise characters, but it makes for a fun change. I understand that he’s a rogue and a scoundrel who likes to sleep with all the women, and I was prepared for him to pursue (or “hunt and kill” in his own choice of phrase) Alice. But when on p136 he decides, casually and calmly (and with a good deal of rationalizing) *raping* Alice in her sleep, and actually goes to her room and begins undressing (until he notices another dude has already knocked her up)…yeah. No. I can’t get on board with him.
In his own way, Rettenberg’s character is a mess, too. The rapid-fire, slipshod nature of the writing means that some of his character changes go unexplored, namely his conversion from wanting to rape Alice to being genuinely in love with her. The last time the narrative is from his POV in this regard, it’s before he leaves for WWI; he’s been a “gentleman” and waited until she’d weaned her child, but now the time is right to strike…but what if some other man got his quarry first? His perception of her here is still as a conquest. When they come together, I took his confessions of love as a ploy. I assumed, given our insights and the dynamic we’d seen between the characters up to that point, that I should do so. Imagine my surprise, then, when it turned out to be true! He’d fallen in love with Alice, enough to not want to sleep with random ladies anymore, enough to want their sex to be consensual…and yet I never believed it because I’d never seen it, never been made to feel that conversion. Read has failed to make Rettenberg remotely sympathetic. Rettenberg's assessment of the callous, ignorant upper-classes flaunting their wealth while the world crumbles around them was excellent, and an important point to make. But it was too little, too late to save his character.
The pacing is also catastrophic. I bought the book on the grounds that it was a novel of the RR, but the revolution itself takes up p297-309 and is recorded in letters (i.e. summarized) from Alice to her family. We’re not with her through the events of February, July, and October. And we should have been. Free-thinking, suffragette Alice observing the birth pangs of the dictatorship of the proletariat would have been fascinating reading, and added depth and intrigue for her character, a means of exercising her political and philosophical beliefs by living and observing them in practice instead of theory. But no. It felt cheap to gloss over the entirety of the Revolution itself; perhaps Read did so because none of her love interests were present, and thus there was nothing (literally or figuratively) for her character to do.
But it only got worse in the last quarter of the novel. Edward, Alice’s former paramour and baby-daddy who jilted her because she’d have hampered his Conservative political career in Britain, discovers that the thought of Alice is the only thing which cures his relatively benign post-war blues (no shell shock, no physical damage, just a general upper-class malaise). And when he discovers she’s fled to Russia and gave birth to his son, *well*!
He get himself sent to Russia, looks all over for her – which already feels unreasonably convenient, given the turmoil and chaos and SIZE of the country – doesn’t find her, travels through about 5 other countries dining with the crème de la crème because reasons, randomly finds the horse he’d sold to Rettenburg in a very unlikely place, goes back to Russia, and somehow Alice finds him at precisely the moment she needs someone to verify her British identity. Rettenberg loves Alice so deeply now that he’d rather she lived with her posh British baby-daddy, as the natural father, than with himself who has lost all his money and titles, in fact he’d rather kill himself, and Alice for some reason accepts this and marries good ol’ Eddie (still occasionally hooking up with Rettenberg).
The end.
All that, in just 54 pages.
The book is exposition-heavy at the best of times, but the ending was abysmal. Too convenient, too unbelievable, too confusing (what earthly reason could supposedly independent, intelligent Alice have for loving either of these men, never mind wanting to marry either one, or agreeing to do so under duress in case one kills himself and social pressure from the other?), and simply happens too fast.
I got the sense Read had a deadline looming; I also had the sense he'd had the ending planned from the start, realized he was taking too long to reach it, and, not caring that the character and story up to that point had moved away from his preconceived conclusion, haphazardly made stuff happen so that it (sort of) fit.
(This neglects, too, how certain bits of historical plotting are shoehorned in with no attention paid to structure or character-building. It's common knowledge that the Russian gentry/nobility/court etc. were generally anti-Semitic. We get no whiff of this until Alice and Rettenberg have a heated argument about it where he shows his true colors...conveniently right before witnessing the carnage after a White Army-led massacre of a Jewish village. Lesson learned, I suppose, but the reader feels no emotional payoff since we didn't realize until literally a page and a half before that he held those deeply entrenched views.)
Lastly, the writing itself…by and large, it’s fine. Not breath-taking. There were no points where I paused and thought “wow, that was beautiful! I wish I’d written that!” There were no metaphors which made me stop and think, no descriptions that opened new links and perceptions. It simply was – very simply. And that’s fine, a story has every right to just be a story without also being highbrow craft. It wouldn't matter, if the story was good – but as it wasn’t, the prose needed to be there to carry the weight. Unfortunately, the only thing which made the prose stand out was how sexist it was.
Every man is in love/lust with Alice. Serious eye-roll, but also completely in-keeping with the genre, so it was easy enough to gloss over. But Read seems never to have spoken with a woman about a woman’s body, her desires either physical or intellectual, her responsibilities (motherhood is a breeze when you spend hardly any time with your kid who has zero personality anyway).
He describes her lustful feelings as “a churning in her entrails”. Gross, but this too is in keeping with the Rettenberg perspective of the sex act as a hunt/kill exercise. Still, I’ve never heard a woman refer to that looping, rolling in the pit of her stomach as her entrails churning. Actually, I’ve never heard any person refer to their entrails, full-stop.
Later, eyeing Alice’s body with detachment, employing for fun the old connoisseur eyes he no longer uses because there is only Alice in his heart and his bed, he notes that “her breasts were recognisably those of a woman who had suckled a child; they did not defy gravity like a young girl’s, and the pale pink nipples of a virgin were now brown nuggets of puckered skin.”
HOLY GOLDMAN’S GHOST! 1) That’s not how gravity or breasts work, 2) the color of your nipples is nothing to do with whether or not you’re a virgin, and 3) “brown nuggets of puckered skin”??? Retch. No woman on earth would describe herself that way, because it makes her tits sound like pork crackling.
The book was an easy read, and fast, but not particularly enjoyable. It’s fast because you’re plowing on to get to the end, and it doesn’t throw any especially difficult concepts or situations at you. There are well executed scenes – the death of Rettenberg’s mother stood out as one of the few moments where I felt vaguely moved or invested. But generally I found the writing, the characters, and the plot weak and the sexism distracting.
Glad I read it – I can now add it to the literature review – but wouldn’t recommend it to anyone, and except to pinch some well-researched historical detail, cannot imagine reading it again.
Note: The only reason it doesn’t earn a 1-star rating is because it’s still nowhere near as bad as Saturn’s Daughters by Jim Pinnells.