Pre-read: So remember that time a long while ago when I said that if E.L. James wrote a novel that wasn't "Fifty Shades of Grey" related, I would read it?
Something tells me I'm going to regret this, but you know what? Let's go.
After reading: I think I'm stuck in my reaction between cringing and laughing. Believe the critique - this was just an all around bad experience - bad writing (including bad sex scenes, yikes), bad pacing with characters that had little to no development, excessive violence against women that went completely overlooked most of the time, racist/xenophobic commentary passing off as humor, ...I could go on for a while. I guess I can cross off my bucket list that I read an E.L. James novel, but I don't see myself picking up anything else from her at all from this experience.
Full review:
One of these days, we're going to talk about how this book broke my brain so badly that I had reviewer's block in spurts over the course of a two year time frame when talking about other books I've read.
...I guess that time is now (2021, two years after this book was first read).
You know, I realize that reading is an individual experience and people like what they like. I get that fully, I can respect that at least in consideration to certain things. I can also see that there are people who like things that are problematic. I like certain things, stories, aspects that are problematic too, but I fully acknowledge that they are problematic, why, and give my reasons for where I may like something in a way that I hope people will understand where I'm coming from as to where I can have an appreciation of the thing. Where it may do something well, where it has value to something I've experienced or shared, something to that degree.
But for the love of all that's holy, why is this...THIS? Why is this a thing? Why is "The Mister" considered a popular, sexy book? I just don't understand. I can't even. This is a NO. This is a "NO, thank you, put that thing back where it came from" situation.
You might think I'm being unfair, excessive, extra, or any number of hyperbolic descriptions, but I can assure you that I'm not a stranger to erotica, or erotic romance, or new adult, or fanfiction or any of those things. I understand that I have rocky relationships with specific aspects of all the aforementioned, and I can acknowledge my biases, respectfully stated. My hope is that you don't come out of this review thinking I'm dunking on this just to dunk on it. (Though, that was tempting.) I did go into it thinking it may not be my thing, but at least I was willing to try, doggone it. But this was BAD. This was TERRIBLE. I know E.L. James wrote the Fifty Shades Trilogy and I at least know of the issues that surrounded that story in detail, but that in no way prepared me for the kind of experience I had with this book.
*exhales slowly* Let's just start at the beginning.
You have a "hero", Maxim Trevelyan - the Mister - who suddenly inherits a noble title at the death of his brother, Kit. He has a complicated relationship with his brother's widow, Caroline, as well. (Yeah, I'm not going there, I threw up in my mouth a bit at that revelation. No spoilers needed. The hero calling himself an "asshole" for that doesn't absolve how bad it was.) Maxim is about the most arrogant SOB that you could ever come across, engaging in long passages about him doing regular tasks like working out, or saying phrases like "fuck a duck" when he's frustrated or in the midst of sexy times, take your pick of which at a given time. It's the equivalent of navel-gazing posturing with a sexual leaning and it got old really quick. He's written in first person POV (of course).
Then you have the heroine, Alessia, who is the daily, or servant. She is from Albania, which is portrayed like some otherworldly retro country in which James feels the need to take factoids from Wikipedia in order to educate YOU - dear reader - through the characters, what Albania is supposed to be like. (Exernal Narrator: The woman called Rose stops herself short of saying "Lordy, this is racist." Even though it is undeniably such.) She's written in third-person limited POV.
Alessia's situation is at least, to some degree, something I had sympathy for. Coming out of an abusive relationship is one thing, struggling to make a living while hoping to avoid being shipped back to that abusive relationship against your will is also a thing. We'll circle back to that in a bit.
The way these two meet is...something, as Alessia is the new maid (daily) that Maxim didn't know he had. If Maxim says this about his former maid leaving and Alessia coming in: “Well, I was a little surprised that she upped and left without so much as a good-bye and Miss Albania took her place. No one told me.” - there's a problem. Several problems in fact.
Some of the conflict in this overarching story is Alessia thinking that Maxim is with someone and that she's not good enough for him, and the other part is Maxim thinking that Alessia thinks he's with someone and that he's totally bad for her. (External narrator: And the woman called Rose thinks it would be good for them to talk to each other and shave 100 pages from this conflict.) The minor characters have bit parts to play, but they're never developed beyond giving something for Maxim and Alessia to pull on in terms of rolling commentary, conflict, or background noise. Even with the interactions between the two trying to get to know each other, it's a laundry list of things and the interactions feel too rigid.
Somehow the people who are looking for Alessia find her and Maxim - "I'm so freaking tough, I'm Metal Batman" - jumps in to save the day more than a few times. The issue of human trafficking is treated as an afterthought, more of a matter of drawing attention to that Maxim is in the presence of a woman who has never slept with a man. Meaning Maxim spends pages mulling over her virginity in a fetish-type way. (Oy.) And there is period sex in here, also like Fifty Shades. *sighs*
We jump into elongated sex scenes that have no true chemistry between the leads, and somehow Blackstreet's "No Diggity" makes an appearance as one of (several) pop culture references in here that just don't work. I guess knowing what I know also about Fifty Shades, there was a focus on classical music to be had in there. I didn't mind the classical references on the surface since it seemed that Alessia played pieces, but when you're going on for pages and pages with no plot movement, it felt excessive for focus. I also mentioned in my rolling commentary that there was more dramatic tension between Alessia finding out that Maxim was an Earl than her being nearly captured by her human trafficking pursuers. That didn't make sense given the gravity of what would later transpire when Alessia has to encounter with her fiancé and family.
James saved the last quarter of the book to throw everything and the kitchen sink for conflict into the fire. To name a few - Caroline, Kit's widower, coming back into the conflict just to hate on Alessia with saying that Alessia is the "cleaner" and "freeloader" and creating conflict in those measures, considering Maxim's "relationship" with Caroline. Also Alessia (and I say this seriously - poor girl) getting brutally beaten on for the sake of conflict, horrible family treatment, and Maxim coming in to rescue her. (External narrator: And the woman called Rose stops herself short of saying this is reductive sexism...though it absolutely is.)
I wish I cared enough to go through, line by line, every single non-conflict and conflict this book had to offer. 500+ pages was too much for this book, whether in physical or digital form. I can't say that I didn't laugh at this book in moments, but mainly it was for all the wrong reasons - for disbelief, for repetition, for using racial and sexual stereotypes so carelessly and callously - and for turning the final page on one of the worst books I've picked up in the last few years. I had so much to say about it when I sat down to write this review back in 2019, that it ended up overwhelming me to where I just couldn't say anything at all.
So it's probably fitting for me to end this review with not much to say other than I will leave it behind, and I will not pick up another E.L. James novel ever again. Not for science, nor curiosity, and most definitely not for a romantic or sexy read. There are so many other - and better - books for that experience. I think there are many others who hit the point on the nose at the number of problems in this book, I'm just one of several.
Overall score: No stars. Just none.