Book Review: Soulless
Mar. 16th, 2014 04:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sunnyskywalkerWhy do supernatural romance thriller books hate me? Are they masochists who want to be thrown against the wall?
So. This book starts with an interesting premise: there is some quality which in the world of this story is interpreted as a soul which people who can successfully be transformed into vampires, ghosts, or werewolves possess more of than average, and which Alexia Tarabotti possesses not at all. Her soullessness causes any supernatural creature to lose their powers upon contact with her--fangs retract, fur vanishes, etc. Well and good. And she's an outspoken spinster prone to whacking overly-forward vampires with her parasol. Still on board. And then...
I honestly can't decide whether Soulless is a better or a worse book than A Discovery of Witches. On the one hand, the male romantic lead doesn't seem to have murdered any past girlfriends and only orders his current love interest around sometimes. On the other hand, the writing and the historical grounding are distinctly worse (there is almost nothing more grating than a failed attempt at 19th-century writing).
To give you an idea of the writing, take this attempt at wit and sharp characterization from a scene where our soulless heroine Alexia is having dinner with the ancient, fabulously wealthy, and just plain fabulous vampire Lord Akeldama. I'll skip the description of his wardrobe, but it's the kind of wardrobe which includes "three-inch heels with ruby and gold buckles."
Oh, surely not, I thought. Surely she wouldn't be so crass as to play that tired and cruel old limp wrist cliche--
*facepalm* Oh, did I mention that he has a harem of handsome (but clever and efficient!) young men and looks a little too "effeminate" (the book's word, not mine) when he's de-powered by holding Alexia's hand? Running a competent information network does not make it undermining a nasty stereotype which is otherwise played (sorry) straight.
Also, Alexia and Lord Maccom, her designated future husband, start off thinking that they hate each other but having the strangest butterflies in their tummies when around each other and can't figure out why they keep thinking of each other and blah blah blah I'm tuning out because I cannot believe they are that clueless.
But wait, there's more! In this storyverse, the British Empire's global dominance is a direct consequence of its incorporation of supernatural predators into the highest levels of government and of course into the military. I think there was something about werewolves in the army in India putting down a rebellion? And the vampire and werewolf advisers who have served since around Henry VIII's time at least, and both vampire hive and werewolf pack leadership positions seem to come with titles. And no young vampires are allowed out in public without being dressed to the nines. They are all wealthy and powerful, basically, and actively furthering the Empire's goals of conquering and oppressing around the globe. Lord Maccom also explicitly tells Alexia that yes, of course supernaturals' goals are different from humans; polite codes of conduct prohibiting non-consensual biting in drawing rooms aside, humans are still just prey.
So when the villains of the book turn out to be scientists who are kidnapping and cutting up supernaturals to figure out how they work in hopes of eventually defeating them, and Alexia vehemently rejects joining them because they are cruelly killing her vampire friend and she wouldn't want to work with such horrible people and it would be awful to go back to the Dark Ages when supernatural creatures were hunted...well, really, Alexia, what do you think the British Empire does when they're not at home? I'm sure the scientists could be lovely dinner party company and wear nice cravats too if you met them in the right setting. In fact, the one you've already met did. Your friends are helping kill thousands of people abroad just so you can suck the resources out of their countries! Well, okay, not all of them are doing it in person, so I guess that's fine then...
There's also an aside about the vampires siding with the South during the U.S. Civil War, to which Alexia comments that what can you expect when the government was marginalizing them and hunting them down. Which again puts the supernatural creatures in the position of "oppressed minority" rather than "predatory upper class." Now, supposedly in the US they are actually hunted and killed, but this is a really freaking weird way to position them in history. I mean, when you think "vampires" and "antebellum South," I have to say, that is not the first scenario that comes to mind. Or maybe I'm the only one who thinks "vampires" and "plantations full of enslaved human food" is a natural pairing. I doubt that somehow. Maybe we're just meant to think Alexia is ignorant or seriously biased? Southern plantation owners also claimed to be marginalized and unfairly persecuted by Northern interests, but one particular right they were defending against these totally unfair attacks was, um, the right to enslave other human beings, which makes things just a little more complicated, one might think.
Incidentally, I find it totally unbelievable that there were not vampire factory owners and railroad barons in this universe. Surely paying desperate, downtrodden workers a pittance to run the looms and give up a pint of blood every so often vs. not paying them to pick cotton and give blood would be a perfectly viable cultural difference? Why supernatural-hating vs. supernatural-accepting? Unless it's purely to cast supernaturals in the oppressed minority role again when in this world they are explicitly predators.
And that's where the book really breaks down for me: it tries to have its cake and eat it too. Vampires and werewolves are both oppressed minorities (stated to usually draw new members from creative types like actors and artists, to reinforce the association) and rich and powerful aristocrats who are not only fully incorporated into the political hierarchy, but near its top. And we primarily see this within the British Empire; the American example is just a confusing side note. Poor Maccon and Akeldama and co. are going to be cruelly used and abused and deprived of their power to...um, use and abuse others. Oh, not their peers, of course; they never turn nice British people against their will or take blood without paying for it or asking nicely. We get no such assurances that they do the same abroad, or that these "blood whores" (yes really) and hangers-on who act as servants in hopes of getting promoted to immortal aren't being just as exploited as their historical counterparts. And, you know, Empire. They only seem nicer than the scientists because we only ever see them as Alexia does, primarily around their peers whom they aren't treating as prey.
But as Lord Maccon says, we are just prey to him and his rich, powerful pals. "He's nice-ish to the heroine because she was born magically special instead of food like the rest of us" just does not make him automatically better than the designated villains. Nor does it make for a light, frothy romance for me.
I'd probably be happy with a book where the leads were just as awful and were not excused. House of Cards (so far I've only seen the British version) is fun because the show doesn't for one minute expect us to approve of Urqhart or excuse him. (A Discovery of Witches would have made an excellent horror novel with very little tweaking.) Or if the book had interrogated the characters' positions and revealed the nastiness hidden behind the silk cravats and bustles, that would be interesting too, even if the characters themselves never realized what the readers do. There's probably a hundred ways this scenario could be done interestingly. But this seemingly uncritical acceptance--more, the fangirling of and excusing of via "worse" villains--of "natural" hierarchy and brutal oppression abroad (not to mention offensive stereotypes) as light and frothy and desirable so long as you add enough lace gloves gives me the creeps.
So. This book starts with an interesting premise: there is some quality which in the world of this story is interpreted as a soul which people who can successfully be transformed into vampires, ghosts, or werewolves possess more of than average, and which Alexia Tarabotti possesses not at all. Her soullessness causes any supernatural creature to lose their powers upon contact with her--fangs retract, fur vanishes, etc. Well and good. And she's an outspoken spinster prone to whacking overly-forward vampires with her parasol. Still on board. And then...
I honestly can't decide whether Soulless is a better or a worse book than A Discovery of Witches. On the one hand, the male romantic lead doesn't seem to have murdered any past girlfriends and only orders his current love interest around sometimes. On the other hand, the writing and the historical grounding are distinctly worse (there is almost nothing more grating than a failed attempt at 19th-century writing).
To give you an idea of the writing, take this attempt at wit and sharp characterization from a scene where our soulless heroine Alexia is having dinner with the ancient, fabulously wealthy, and just plain fabulous vampire Lord Akeldama. I'll skip the description of his wardrobe, but it's the kind of wardrobe which includes "three-inch heels with ruby and gold buckles."
Lord Akeldama waved a limp wrist about dismissively before taking the swizzle and nibbling its tip. "La, my dearest girl, you invited me because you could not bear to be without my company a single moment longer. And I shall be cut to the quick of my very extensive soul if your reason is anything else."
Oh, surely not, I thought. Surely she wouldn't be so crass as to play that tired and cruel old limp wrist cliche--
"Sweetling," he had once said, "you are no more at risk with me in that regard than you are in danger of me accidentally biting you--both being equal impossibilities. In the one case, I do not possess the necessary equipment upon contact, in the other case you do not."
*facepalm* Oh, did I mention that he has a harem of handsome (but clever and efficient!) young men and looks a little too "effeminate" (the book's word, not mine) when he's de-powered by holding Alexia's hand? Running a competent information network does not make it undermining a nasty stereotype which is otherwise played (sorry) straight.
Also, Alexia and Lord Maccom, her designated future husband, start off thinking that they hate each other but having the strangest butterflies in their tummies when around each other and can't figure out why they keep thinking of each other and blah blah blah I'm tuning out because I cannot believe they are that clueless.
But wait, there's more! In this storyverse, the British Empire's global dominance is a direct consequence of its incorporation of supernatural predators into the highest levels of government and of course into the military. I think there was something about werewolves in the army in India putting down a rebellion? And the vampire and werewolf advisers who have served since around Henry VIII's time at least, and both vampire hive and werewolf pack leadership positions seem to come with titles. And no young vampires are allowed out in public without being dressed to the nines. They are all wealthy and powerful, basically, and actively furthering the Empire's goals of conquering and oppressing around the globe. Lord Maccom also explicitly tells Alexia that yes, of course supernaturals' goals are different from humans; polite codes of conduct prohibiting non-consensual biting in drawing rooms aside, humans are still just prey.
So when the villains of the book turn out to be scientists who are kidnapping and cutting up supernaturals to figure out how they work in hopes of eventually defeating them, and Alexia vehemently rejects joining them because they are cruelly killing her vampire friend and she wouldn't want to work with such horrible people and it would be awful to go back to the Dark Ages when supernatural creatures were hunted...well, really, Alexia, what do you think the British Empire does when they're not at home? I'm sure the scientists could be lovely dinner party company and wear nice cravats too if you met them in the right setting. In fact, the one you've already met did. Your friends are helping kill thousands of people abroad just so you can suck the resources out of their countries! Well, okay, not all of them are doing it in person, so I guess that's fine then...
There's also an aside about the vampires siding with the South during the U.S. Civil War, to which Alexia comments that what can you expect when the government was marginalizing them and hunting them down. Which again puts the supernatural creatures in the position of "oppressed minority" rather than "predatory upper class." Now, supposedly in the US they are actually hunted and killed, but this is a really freaking weird way to position them in history. I mean, when you think "vampires" and "antebellum South," I have to say, that is not the first scenario that comes to mind. Or maybe I'm the only one who thinks "vampires" and "plantations full of enslaved human food" is a natural pairing. I doubt that somehow. Maybe we're just meant to think Alexia is ignorant or seriously biased? Southern plantation owners also claimed to be marginalized and unfairly persecuted by Northern interests, but one particular right they were defending against these totally unfair attacks was, um, the right to enslave other human beings, which makes things just a little more complicated, one might think.
Incidentally, I find it totally unbelievable that there were not vampire factory owners and railroad barons in this universe. Surely paying desperate, downtrodden workers a pittance to run the looms and give up a pint of blood every so often vs. not paying them to pick cotton and give blood would be a perfectly viable cultural difference? Why supernatural-hating vs. supernatural-accepting? Unless it's purely to cast supernaturals in the oppressed minority role again when in this world they are explicitly predators.
And that's where the book really breaks down for me: it tries to have its cake and eat it too. Vampires and werewolves are both oppressed minorities (stated to usually draw new members from creative types like actors and artists, to reinforce the association) and rich and powerful aristocrats who are not only fully incorporated into the political hierarchy, but near its top. And we primarily see this within the British Empire; the American example is just a confusing side note. Poor Maccon and Akeldama and co. are going to be cruelly used and abused and deprived of their power to...um, use and abuse others. Oh, not their peers, of course; they never turn nice British people against their will or take blood without paying for it or asking nicely. We get no such assurances that they do the same abroad, or that these "blood whores" (yes really) and hangers-on who act as servants in hopes of getting promoted to immortal aren't being just as exploited as their historical counterparts. And, you know, Empire. They only seem nicer than the scientists because we only ever see them as Alexia does, primarily around their peers whom they aren't treating as prey.
But as Lord Maccon says, we are just prey to him and his rich, powerful pals. "He's nice-ish to the heroine because she was born magically special instead of food like the rest of us" just does not make him automatically better than the designated villains. Nor does it make for a light, frothy romance for me.
I'd probably be happy with a book where the leads were just as awful and were not excused. House of Cards (so far I've only seen the British version) is fun because the show doesn't for one minute expect us to approve of Urqhart or excuse him. (A Discovery of Witches would have made an excellent horror novel with very little tweaking.) Or if the book had interrogated the characters' positions and revealed the nastiness hidden behind the silk cravats and bustles, that would be interesting too, even if the characters themselves never realized what the readers do. There's probably a hundred ways this scenario could be done interestingly. But this seemingly uncritical acceptance--more, the fangirling of and excusing of via "worse" villains--of "natural" hierarchy and brutal oppression abroad (not to mention offensive stereotypes) as light and frothy and desirable so long as you add enough lace gloves gives me the creeps.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2014-03-17 08:04 am (UTC)For that matter, does anyone outside the Anglosphere have supernatural populations? Vampires and werewolves are hardly native to British folklore; you'd expect in an undead arms race, the Hapsburg and Ottoman monarchies would have the edge.
(Perhaps our American vampires are actually Francophone in origin, the former ruling elite of Haiti who fled to Louisiana, willing to take their chances in America than risk the wraith of the vengeful Loa unleashed by the revolt against their rule... Obviously they're not so much part of the Confederacy as trying to take advantage of the chaos to create a new kingdom of the undead along the Mississipi.)
(Louisiana, of course, is named for Louis XIV, the Moon King, the first werewolf to sit on the French throne...)
(Ahem. May have gotten distracted.)
One could theoretically do something with vampires as the old aristocracy and as a sympathetic power – a sort of Luddite allegory, where you put vampires as still powerful, but a personal power at least. They still have to meet with you to enthral you, they still need to touch their victims. They're sensual, hedonistic, and with their centuries of knowledge are the peak of individual human skill. They're feudal, not nationalists; they have individual relationships and alliances, they don't rely on impersonal organisations like the state or the nation or economic class. Set them against the assembly line, the nature of mass production, with the shadow of the impersonal slaughter of the First World War hanging over the story, and they might start to look a bit more sympathetic.
But then, I guess, you'd just have the elves from Lord of the Rings, so never mind.
(no subject)
Date: 2014-03-18 03:51 am (UTC)Maybe the American colonies fought back with wendigos and Bigfoot and chupacabras? And then, er... killed a lot of them? Which would bring up a whole different comparison with massive unfortunate implications, so let's not go there. Maybe the Puritans were just exceptionally high in soulless people, so generations later their descendents were as well. Yeah. That's it.
(I am totally down with the French vampires and Louis the Moon King. Also I was thinking that maybe America had a few decades of anti-supernatural backlash, but post-Civil War found their money increasingly hard to resist what with the ever-growing pace of industrialization. Vampire factory owners after all! And they're mainly sucking immigrant blood instead of nice homegrown Anglo blood, so the old families are cool with it! Then Teddy Roosevelt, desperate to remake himself after a childhood as an asthmatic weakling, deliberately gets himself werewolfed for the sheer macho-ness of it, and goes on a splendid little war and charges up Kettle Hill, howling at the moon, thus ushering in a new age of American Supernatural Imperialism... Ahem. May have gotten distracted myself.)
Set them against the assembly line, the nature of mass production, with the shadow of the impersonal slaughter of the First World War hanging over the story, and they might start to look a bit more sympathetic.
But then, I guess, you'd just have the elves from Lord of the Rings, so never mind.
You know, I bet the Tolklone elves seen sprawling across the shelves of a bookstore near you and the hip new sparkly vampires are drawing from the same id-desires of many readers? The blood aspect is often downplayed so much that they might as well be elves with Tragic Pasts and Tormented SoulsTM.