Millions of years of evolution, right? Right!? Men have to stick it in every place they can, but for women, women, it is just about security, and commitment, and—ah, whatever the fuck else! If you men only knew… but you're not the jealous type, are you? You've never been jealous about me, have you? And why haven't you ever been jealous about me!? You are very, very sure of yourself, aren't you? (lovecrimes – Frank Ocean).
Okay look, I know that’s a monologue from the movie Eyes Wide Shut, but it’s also used in “lovecrimes” by Frank Ocean, so it probably counts as a song lyric based on the arbitrary rules that I’ve made up for myself. Getting back to the topic though, I admit that I stopped my reread journey through this series because I was so fed up with Amory’s annoying ass husband, Milo, and all the irritating relationship drama in the first couple novels that it actually made me start changing my star ratings for the worse. There was a whole thing with me ranting per usual, but then I remembered that A Most Novel Revenge was actually the first book in the series that made me embarrassingly obsessed with the Amory Ames mysteries in the first place, so I figured that I shouldn’t let one bad apple spoil the batch or whatever the saying is. Besides, I kind of missed making fun of how incredibly uncool Milo was despite the author’s constant glazing. What can I say? I enjoy hating every now and then. So yeah, this is my way of letting you know that A Most Novel Revenge is the first one of these where Mr. Too Cool over here finally shows an emotion other than hyper-masculine indifference and… wait, no, that’s literally the only emotion he’s ever shown before this. Man, what a boring character. I’ve often said that Ashley Weaver is a wonderful writer who is able to weave together intricate and engaging mysteries, and I totally stand by that, but my controversial opinion is that I don’t think she’s very good at writing attractive men. I mean, this is all subjective of course, but most “book boyfriends” that flood BookTok are typically adoring, attentive, and the right amount of jealous, right? But with Milo, we’ve got a guy who’s constantly in the company of women who aren’t his wife where he's always caught just candidly enough so it looks like he's cheating, and then his excuse is always that if he’s not literally hooking up with other people, then it’s totally fine to do whatever he wants! And then when Amory calls him out on the sus behavior, he always gives her some form of “I don’t care about what other people think or how it ruins my reputation, even if that includes your rep too.” Like, what an uncaring and colossal asshole. It's also funny how Milo is often called charming, but it’s only ever said through narration rather than shown through dialogue or actions. Because when he’s actually speaking, I only ever found him to be a privileged, dull, cardboard cutout of a man.
So, what is it? Are we just supposed to assume he’s charming by word association alone? Or just because literally every character calls him as such? Because I don't know about you, but that doesn't work for me. You want an example of a charming and handsome man in a cozy mystery? How about Jasper from the High Society Lady Detective series by Sara Rosett! Now there's a dreamboat; besotted, supportive, and hot without the author needing to convince the reader he's swoon worthy through contrived and transparent language. And that's saying something considering the fact that he and Olive don’t even get together until four or five books deep, and yet their chemistry is still off the charts! Conversely, despite the fact that Amory and Milo are married for the entirety of the series, I couldn’t help but hear the thundering chant of the word “divorce” like the foreboding drumbeat of a Jumanji board every time they'd argue. Also, what’s with his name? Milo… Miloo~ooo… it sound less real the more I say it! Some people have sexy names, Prince, Daniel Kaluuya, Kit Fisto… but Milo Ames!? Sounds like the name of the entitled rich villain in an Air Bud movie! Which I guess wouldn't be too far off of his characterization in these books anyway. In other words, “Let's start by correcting your tone. Lower your finger, don't be comin' at me with condescending demeanors.” Alright, I guess I should talk about the book now, huh? Well, as I said, I always enjoyed A Most Novel Revenge for its classic aesthetic and the taking away of the glamour that the first two books were best known for. I know that’s a bit odd because most mystery novels set in the 1920’s like to focus on romanticizing the Great Gatsby flash of it all, but I’ve always felt a great bit of distance from both Milo and even Amory for this very reason. I mean, the fact that these two characters were both born into immense wealth and continue to live lavishly throughout the series is a big turn off. All walking around with butlers and maids and traveling around the world like it’s nothing, it's just not very relatable and definitely not charming! It's like those TikToks that give out cooking tips and you can just tell how well off they are when they start whipping out kitchen utensils only ever seen in Martha Stewart's billion acre ranch! I’m just saying, when it comes to eating the rich, the Ames' would be a full course meal.
And it’s not even like I’m trying to be stingy here, because I can enjoy books about rich characters! The Wrexford & Sloane series by Andrea Penrose features a damn count as the main character! But because he's balanced out by the fact that the other lead is a lady who writes satirical cartoons about all the rich folk in high society, there's a grounded nature to the series that keeps it from romanticizing immense wealth. Then there’s the aforementioned High Society Lady Detective with Olive's man, Jasper, who despite being wealthy, never holds it over Olive or tries to save her with it. Oh yeah! The Penelope Banks Murder Mysteries has Penelope, who knows exactly what it was like to be hungry long before she has her Knives Out Marta moment in the first novel! My point is that it’s possible to have a mystery series that focuses on the glamorous life without falling into its rather shallow trappings as well. Maybe that’s why I have such an aversion to the constant shilling for Milo's “irresistible charm," because it's clear that most of it only stems from the fact that he's rich. Sorry, but there has to be a deeper emotional core than just excess and pretty views. Anyway, let’s talk about the story! We find Amory and newly good boy Milo going on a staycation among old friends and even older enemies, hosted by the cruel socialite Isobel Van Allen. See, seven years ago all of these guests outside of Amory and her husband attended a party of a similar making where one of them died mysteriously, a death of which Isobel profited off of by writing a novel about the tragedy that all but implicated one of them. Now it’s time for round two, and it’s up to Amory to solve mysteries both old and new, no matter how many simmering wounds she might have to re-open along the way. Look, it’s not the most unique set-up, but I’m a sucker for this kind of stuff because awkward dinner parties are always so much fun… to read, not to attend. And even if I’ve since found mystery books much more suited to my reading tastes, I still liked this book. It's like when you read The Alchemist as a kid and find it to be the most transformative piece of literature you've ever read! Only to then realize much, much later that at that point in your life you haven't actually read much literature at all and that there's much, much more out there... but that still doesn't change the fact that you'll always hold a fondness for the book regardless. Um, not that I'm speaking from experience or anything. And sure, I’ve noticed that the Amory Ames Mystery series strongly adheres to strict gender roles through the main couple, with underlying statements that the "ideal" man should be impassive and unfazed while women should aspire to be the restrained and tolerant ones, but it’s nonetheless a wonderfully crafted mystery with enough intrigue to make any Complaining Calvin forget about the page count.
“So you see, living with the memory of a tragedy is not the worst thing Mrs. Ames. It’s far worse to live with only the vague outline of one, with a hazy memory of something that should be imprinted on one’s brain. It feels like a betrayal, somehow, not knowing what happened that night.”