Choosing a light read is a tricky business. It's like icing on a cake - too little, and all you have is cake; too much, and you're overwhelmed with fluff and sugar. I picked up this book because I wanted to read something with no murders in it, and besides, Napoleonic spy capers with women! Fun stuff! Surely this was the right amount of icing. I was even willing to overlook the fact that the contemporary heroine, Eloise, was the type that knew what brand her boots were and just had to mention it. I was willing to award this book ALL the breaks, just because I wanted something that would not rip my heart out.
Sadly, as other readers have noticed, there's very little capering in this book. Minimal caper. It's a Regency romance novel, interspersed with a few chapters of a contemporary researcher, who, in spite of being a PhD student smart enough to con a committee into sending her overseas, is the kind of person who will, after a man is rude to her once, be repeatedly rude back, even in the face of his preternatural patience. Have I mentioned this is someone who has something she wants? He is! She will also hate women who are more polished than she is and embarrass herself through repeated clumsiness. In short, she's a familiar romantic comedy type, but I'd have to seriously question Harvard's admission process if she existed in real life.
If it sounds as if I thought the contemporary pieces were the worst part of this book, oh, think again. They were actually a bit of a relief, although both storylines featured proportionately equal amounts of "endearing" clumsiness. I kind of wish I'd done a word count for "ouch," "urgh," and "ow." They were numerous. The historical parts were MUCH worse. My poor husband, reading in the same room with me, was subjected to a lot of moans and groans on my part, sarcastic commentary such as "oh, good, he has piercing green eyes, I was worried he wouldn't," and the moment when I said "no, wrong. WRONG!" That, I'm pretty sure, was when Amy, the nauseating heroine of the historical bits, hears the Purple Gentian reference something she has only told to his alter ego, Richard, and decides that it MUST mean that he's her true love, fated to be with her. Not that he actually is Richard. This was, however, also the scene where I discovered my new favorite line in literature, "the moist thrust of the Purple Gentian's tongue." There was so much bosom-heaving and ass-checking-out that I was rooting really hard for the leads to just do it already so the rest of us could be spared them lusting after each other. Since clearly the author wasn't going to do us all a favor and kill them off, the least she could do was make them stop gazing for a hot second. There were secondary characters I DIDN'T totally hate, but the leads I did. I was very sorry we had to read about them the whole damn time.
The writing was, oh, how do I put this? Bad. The writing was bad. I feel a little harsh saying this, because clearly this author was enjoying herself as she wrote. She liked her characters and I'm sure was chuckling as she wrote some of the lines I found so vomit-worthy. But the writing was really bad. The dialogue in the historical pieces would throw in some era-appropriate terms, but otherwise they talked like the contemporary characters (I can't say they talked or acted like real people at either end). They said "um" a lot. Sometimes when they were speaking French, which I happen to know isn't something you SAY in French (3 semesters of college French speaking, here, she says, buffing nails on shirt).
Why, then, is this book two stars rather than one? Mostly because the packaging is so misleading. It seems unfair to rate the book on what it's being billed as, rather than what it is. If it had been billed as a Regency romance I would never have read it in the first place, but at least I would have known more or less what to expect. But since I DID get conned into reading a Regency romance, it did give me an opportunity to have a think about the genre. Its existence implies that there are in the world women (definitely a genre aimed at women) who get all hot and bothered at the idea of being bossed around and scolded. Women who think it would be sexy as hell to have a guy with piercing eyes (always piercing eyes, or a piercing gaze if you're fancy/a better writer) and a "face like a thunderstorm" demand "what were you thinking, you little fool? Don't you know you could have been hurt?" before sweeping her into his arms and asking brokenly (usually brokenly, sometimes softly or "with sudden and unexpected tenderness") "Don't you know what it would do to me if something happened to you?" Followed, natch, by the passionate kiss as he gives in to his feelings.
Thinking about this stuff now, I am actually really intrigued. I have to admit this does nothing for me - I'm not into being patronized or having my intellect called into question, although I'm also not impetuous and nor do I bounce with frustration so maybe I'm not really a heroine either - but ARE there people who really find this hot escapism? Is being scolded a minor subset of BDSM culture? I WANT TO KNOW! Because I'm so confused by this idea! I can kind of get the idea of fantasizing about being a damsel in distress - because I think most people like the idea of being valued so much by someone who would drop everything to come save you if you needed it. Who doesn't want a guy who has your back? But a guy who saves you and then yells at you about it? Is this really what does it for some people? I AM SO CURIOUS.
Anyway, there's a whole series of these books, so clearly the author got in some more practice and may have improved since then. The book was kind of fun to read, in the spirit of Mystery Science Theater 3000, and if you're into heaving bosoms and male assholes who can't stop staring at your heaving bosoms because they're so in lust/love with you and female assholes who yell at you for maybe making fun of them that one time, well! I have a book for you! But it also contains the phrase "the moist thrust of the Purple Gentian's tongue." I think we can all agree that this is wrong.