I’m still in a cottagecore sort of mood that was only partially quenched by The Write Escape. Actually, The Write Escape only served to fuel it further, so after The Secret Garden, I’m now turning to The Country Escape. So many ‘escapes’ in this short paragraph...
The beginning of this book really took me by surprise. I was only partially focused on the actual plot, as the rest of my attention was squarely on the writing style. It’s certainly unique in some ways. It isn’t that I’m unaccustomed to narratives that begin in medias res, but this one really takes the cake. Typically, books are reader-oriented—they ease you into the characters, their lives, problems, current circumstances and give you a few chapters to catch up before they really get going and jump into the plot.
Conversely, The Country Escape is very character-oriented. It doesn’t care whether you catch up, it plunges ahead at its own pace, making you feel like something of an intruder in the characters’ lives who feel more like real people whose house you barged into than fictional characters. That said, I don’t dislike the author’s style, though I’d be lying if I said it didn’t take me a bit to get used to her writing.
The setting is most definitely cottagecore—a tiny house called Harvest Cottage in the village of Christmas Steepleton on the Dorset coast. The village is, sadly, fictional. Trust me, I checked.
For all of the novel’s cottagey, vaguely magical charm, the characters are entirely realistic. Katie is a freshly divorced woman in her thirties who buys Harvest Cottage and moves in with her fourteen-year-old daughter Poppy. Katie is looking for something calmer and more serene after the discovery of her ex-husband Luc’s infidelity, the divorce and their fast-paced life in London.
I love that, once again, I get a grown-ass heroine. Katie isn’t some gullible, clueless eighteen-year-old, but a mother in her thirties—tired, unemployed, greying, gaining excess weight she doesn’t want and battling woodlice and mould in her new country abode.
I do believe Katie is my first romance/erotica heroine who is older than the hero, by two years. I do believe she is also my first romance/erotica heroine with a child. And not just a newly-hatched chick, but a teenager. Love it!
Gabriel, our hero and Christmas Steepleton local, is just as flawed, realistic and fleshed out. Far from a cocky bastard we’ve all become so used to in this genre, Gabriel is quiet, thoughtful, mild-mannered, a somewhat meek and passive man with eyesight so bad he can’t drive and has to significantly enlarge the font on his Kindle to be able to read. In his own words, he’s a beta male who’s endured a lot of bullying and has a penchant for self-pity. Love it!
Gabriel—what a beautiful name—works for a filming crew that wants to use Harvest Cottage as a serial killer’s house. Gabriel contacts Katie about it and, as they get to know each other better, drops a bombshell—he doesn’t simply have bad eyesight, but a degenerative disease that could leave him blind within a couple of years.
Not that I take joy in a person’s—fictional or otherwise—suffering, but this is just fantastic. And, while I don’t know a lot about the nature of degenerative ocular diseases, this seems like really good representation. A divorced, unemployed thirty-four-year-old mother and an unassuming local man slowly going blind... I’m only five chapters in, but already, this seems like a novel I will absolutely love for the sheer audacity of its uniqueness.
I love Katie’s attitude. She isn’t rude or belligerent by any stretch of the imagination, but she certainly knows how to say no to people. She’s wary of strangers, cautious and a tad cantankerous. She’s the kind of person lecturers would point at as a good example at a ‘Learn to say NO!’ workshop. Her somewhat aloof demeanour goes well with Gabriel’s humble politeness. They’re both somewhat quirky and awkward, the kind of people who struggle in social situations, and it’s a joy to read.
The novel is very descriptive, the writing style utterly gorgeous in its evocative descriptions of the clammy Dorset town and Katie’s small cottage. I had to deliberately make myself read slower or reread certain sections to ensure all the details get through. It’s the kind of writing that makes you notice the little things you haven’t bothered to pay attention to in years. The first half of the novel is especially wistful, the autumnal ambience perfectly reflecting Katie’s current state. She is desperately lonely, an idle woman not used to so much free time on her hands.
It’s almost uncomfortable, the way the author relates Katie’s unsettling melancholy, but it nonetheless suits the narrative. Katie has no idea what to do with herself. She spends most of her time alone, has no job, next to no meaningful relationships to speak of, at least not on a regular basis your average person needs. It’s too relatable, too unnerving to read about. If this were another genre, it’d make for a great peek inside the mind of a woman slowly going insane.
Without giving anything away, the only part of this novel I disliked was the handling of Katie’s past trauma. The explanation given for her fearful nature and overprotectiveness of Poppy is, well, ludicrous. What’s worse, despite all the build-up, the moment she confesses her big, bad, dark secret to Gabriel—which is so ridiculously tame, I feel silly even referring to it as anything remotely big, bad or dark—he gives almost no reaction. It’s only hours later that they actually discuss Katie’s past and her sad upbringing.
What is satisfying is Katie’s arc. She escaped the unbearable youth she spent under her mother’s resentful eye by marrying Luc, the adventurous wildcard who swept her off her feet with his debonair persona and grandiose lifestyle. Once Katie realised how unpredictable and unreliable he was as a partner and a parent, she divorced Luc.
Rather than make the same mistake twice, Katie completely turns her back on all would-be exciting bad boys and opts instead for someone steady and reliable, someone like Gabriel who isn’t “exciting” per se, but is there, as steady as a tree root. It’s a conscious, mature decision arrived at by examining one’s past mistakes that I can’t help but love Katie for.
Just as Katie goes from appreciating the tea that’s good and healthy for her in place of the enticing alcoholic beverages that ravage her system, so too does Gabriel undergo a neat arc. His relationship with Katie gives him the confidence he is so sorely lacking at the beginning of the narrative when all he seems capable of is making self-deprecating comments about his lack of traditional masculinity. By the end of the book, Gabriel learns to break out of ‘victim mode’ and stand up to his bullies.
I’m not a fan of how the sexy times are handled. Firstly, the sex follows the first kiss too closely for my liking. It feels not so much like an organic desire on the characters’ parts that happens spontaneously, but rather like something they’re “supposed to” do now that they’re dating. It just felt very unnatural, like a series of items being crossed off an arbitrary bucket list.
Secondly, the author doesn’t dwell on the details of the sex. It’s all done almost offscreen, a stylistic choice I respect, though not one I prefer. Sex is a part of people’s lives and, especially when it comes to a romance novel about two characters who aren’t asexual, I want my steam to be steamy. My preferences aside, I still enjoyed Katie and Gabriel’s chemistry, mutual attraction and the way they decided to sleep together.
The side characters are somewhat bland, I’m sorry to say, some even annoying, though tolerable. Poppy especially resembles more a caricature of a teenager than an actual teenager. Must all literary adolescents be of the door-slamming, I-hate-you, you-ruined-my-life, you’re-embarrassing-me variety? Some of us were actually quite subdued and mature at that age, so it wouldn’t hurt if fiction portrayed other types of adolescents more frequently.
Other than all that, no major complaints. This was a pretty satisfying read with surprisingly fresh romantic leads and an enchanting, storybook-like, vaguely gothic atmosphere I’d recommend to romance fans who want a break from more conventional narratives and more conventional chest-thumping heroes.