Discussion Post » Jane Austen's Pride & Prejudice

!!! WARNING: SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Pride and Prejudice is one of my most re-read novels. I loooove this book. It's not very original of me to adore P&P — everyone loves it — but there is a good reason for that fact. It's spectacular! And more than that... it's happy without sacrificing sophistication.

It's also easy to read. In fact, compared to other books written in the early 1800's, it's astonishingly easy to read. Pride and Prejudice has aged remarkably well. However, to get the utmost out of the story, historical context is helpful. 

In this post, I'm going to provide a summary of Pride and Prejudice, and then dive into a bit of discussion on this favorite classic and its author, paying special attention to historical context.

A Summary & Synopsis of Pride and Prejudice

It's become a tradition in my discussion posts for me to write a synopsis of the book at hand. I get really into it, and sometimes put a lot of hours into making the summaries as perfect as possible. However, they can take up a lot of space, so, starting now, I'll be putting the recaps on different pages and providing the link to that page in the discussion post. For the summary of Pride and Prejudice, you can click on the button below to navigate there.

Click HERE to go to my Summary & Synopsis of Pride & Prejudice. It's pretty epic.

Now for our discussion...

Who Was Jane Austen and Was She a Feminist?

So, you think you know Jane Austen? Her life? Her opinions? Her struggles? So did I, until I took a college class on her, taught by one of the world's foremost Austen scholars. Even though, as a high school sophomore, I had written a 20-page term paper on Austen, it turns out I had barely scraped the surface of this enigmatic writer's history and experience.

Austen was alive in southern England during an incredible time. She was born in 1775, at right about the moment of a certain revolution. She was fully grown during the whole of the Napoleonic Wars — Britain's series of intense conflicts with its neighbor, France. Two of Austen's brothers served in the Royal Navy during this time, and Austen was definitely more aware of war and conflict than her apolitical novels would lead us to believe.

As for Austen's family, it was pretty enormous — she had six brothers and one sister. Her father was a clergyman and her mother, being a gentlewoman, did not work.

Austen's family belonged to the the  gentry (the emerging middle class). This particular social rung and its lifestyle, perhaps above EVERYTHING else, is what inspired 

and informed Austen's novels. Austen was privileged in many ways to be a part of the gentry, but there were real issues and complications in that social class, particularly for women.

You can see those complications at play most clearly in Pride and Prejudice and Sense and Sensibility. In P&P, for example, Austen made up this crazy character, Mrs. Bennet. Mrs. Bennet is disgusting to us in large part for her obsession, not only with her daughters getting married, but with them marrying rich men. 

It wasn't until my college class with Margaret Doody (Austen scholar extraordinaire) that I looked upon Mrs. Bennet in a new light. Professor Doody explained to us that Mrs. Bennet, though ridiculous and easy to hate, actually gets the short end of the stick through our modern understanding of her.

You see, in Austen's (and Mrs. Bennet's) time, a gentlewoman wasn't really allowed to make money. The only exceptions were two or three "respectable" jobs — 'governess,' 'companion,' and 'seamstress'. However, if a gentlewoman did decide to pursue those jobs, she was basically waving a flag of social defeat. And if a gentlewoman decided to leave her social class entirely behind by doing harder, less genteel labor, she cast immense shame upon her family, and basically ruined them in the eyes of "polite society."

Because of this social pressure (and discriminatory laws), women were at the mercy of their male relatives (fathers, husbands, even sons) for everything. Obviously, this led to a lot of misery and exploitation, but despite these commonly known evils, it was still a radical act to object and call for social change.

Mary Wollstonecraft, a famous feminist author, didn't give a shit. As a slight forerunner to Austen, she wrote about how women on every social rung were being screwed over by Britain's supposed 'great civilization.' 

Mary Wollstonecraft, Feminist of the Late 18th Century, and Mother to Mary Shelley (Author of Frankenstein)

A proper understanding of Austen must be informed by Wollstonecraft's grievances. The messages of these women go hand in hand, although Austen was nowhere near as outspoken.

Austen was, however, very interested in depicting how gentlewomen were cast adrift when their sole, male provider died. Most everything of his property (if entailed) and money would go to male inheritors. If that male inheritor was dismissive of his female relations (like John Dashwood in Austen's Sense and Sensibility), then those women were destined for a life of begging and scraping.

In P&P, all the Bennets know the facts of their situation. When Mr. Bennet dies, his property will go to an estranged cousin they've never met, who has no incentive to care for them. Sure, the women will receive an annual allowance from the estate, but it's nowhere near enough to provide for a worry-free lifestyle. 

If you choose to put a roof over your head, you only have enough money left to be warm OR fed. Not both!

Mrs. Bennet has FIVE gently bred daughters. They're financial deadweights. And, of course, Mrs. Bennet must include herself in that equation, because the women will be in it together when Mr. Bennet dies. 

Unless, of course, one or more of them finds a new male provider through marriage...

With this context, Professor Doody told us to cut Mrs. Bennet a huge break. She may be annoying, but she's working hard to ensure a better future for her daughters. It's basically the reason she gets up in the morning. Modern readers should cast more derision, Professor Doody insisted, on Mr. Bennet, for not trying harder to salvage the fate of his wife and daughters. 

So was Jane Austen a feminist? It's impossible to know for sure, because she did not share any explicit opinions on the subject of women's rights. My personal opinion is that Austen was a kind of... 'photographer feminist' as opposed to an 'editorial feminist.'

What I mean by that is, a photographer has opinions about the world around her. Influenced by those opinions, she chooses a certain place to point her lens. She decides to take a specific picture and share it with others. She doesn't write an essay about her opinion. She just tells us to look at a picture.

Jane Austen never wrote, "the treatment of women in my society is dreadful." But she did choose, in her novels, to depict the stresses of women struggling with uncertain futures (Pride and Prejudice) and the realities of women figuring out how to stay fed, sheltered, and safe (Sense and Sensibility). 

By guiding her readers to look at those pictures, Austen gives us insight into what was on her mind. Clearly, she had some preoccupations with women being financially cast adrift (something she would experience in her own life), and it's easy enough to guess her feelings on the subject.

Was Jane Austen a Romantic?

You can't read Pride and Prejudice, or Persuasion for that matter, and not understand that Austen was a total idealist when it came to romance. But, like every idealist, she was also quite capable of being cynical.

In fact, all of her books have examples of unfit marriages and/or near misses. In P&P, we have three chief examples — the Bennets, the Collinses, and the Wickhams.

The perfect marriage of compatible equals, however, is depicted by Elizabeth and Darcy. Elizabeth, our protagonist, holds out, through the book, for her ideal partner to propose to her. She does not compromise — not for money alone, not for sexual attraction alone, and not for convenience alone. As a cosmic reward, of course, she gets all three.

Elizabeth clearly has romantic ideals, and they might actually reflect Austen's own...

Austen never married.

It's one of the saddest things about Austen's life — how she wrote these timeless, peerless romances, but never got to experience the real thing for herself. There are many accounts that Jane loved to socialize and flirt with young men in her teens and early twenties. She even had a strong connection with a certain "Thomas Lefroy," but ultimately nothing came of it. (There are suspicions that Lefroy's family disapproved of Jane and removed Tom from her company.

Then there was her odd engagement — which lasted less than 24 hours. The man was Harris Bigg-Wither (I'm NOT making that up) and he was a childhood acquaintance of Jane's. 

When the incident happened, Jane and her sister, Cassandra, were visiting the Bigg-Withers. Jane was 27, a real old maid for that era, and Harris was 21. Harris proposed marriage, and Jane accepted, to the delight of the entire household. At the crack of dawn the next day, however, Jane got in a carriage and sped off. She'd changed her mind, and not in a way to save her friendship with the Bigg-Withers. 

People who have read enough Austen can presume what happened, and it's both inspirational and sad. In accepting Bigg-Wither, Jane probably made a 'Charlotte Lucas' decision. Charlotte, in P&P, shocks and devastates Elizabeth by agreeing to marry the repulsive Mr. Collins, simply because it's her only shot at being married, and thus, no longer burdensome to her family. She chooses practicality over the dream of romance. 

The home of Harris Big-Wither.

Charlotte Lucas makes that decision because she is practical at heart, not romantic. Jane Austen, we can deduce, tried to be 'a Charlotte.' She didn't accept Harris Big-Wither because she loved him. She did it because it would have bandaged certain hurts. Because life as an unmarried woman, with a deceased father, was a struggle. Jane let her demons make the decision.

In the end, though, Austen couldn't be a Charlotte. Instead, she chose not to compromise her romantic ideals. She sacrificed the opportunity for material comforts and greater independence in favor of her personal principles — her dream.

That particular dream, of finding a true and compatible partner, depended on much more than her resolve. Fortunately for us, however, Jane Austen had another dream — one that was in her hands. And although she didn't receive the recognition she deserved for it in her lifetime, her passion for writing would change the world.

Why Has Jane Austen's Writing Aged So Well?

In college, I took another class that covered many of Austen's contemporaries as well as her close predecessors and successors. Those writers included Frances "Fanny" Burney (Evelina), Ann Radcliffe (The Romance of the Forest), Horace Walpole (The Castle of Otranto), and Sir Walter Scott (Waverley).  

Unless you've studied the literature of this period, you probably aren't familiar with these authors. Jane Austen, however, is a name that everyone (worth knowing) knows. So why did Austen only climb in fame as decades and centuries passed, while these other writers, enormous in their own day, faded into obscurity?

I've had both the pleasure (and sometimes the boredom) of reading all the books listed above. So, I hope I can come up with a decent hypothesis about the extraordinary longevity of Austen, relative to her peers. I'll focus on Radcliffe and Scott...

Ann Radcliffe was like the Stephenie Meyer/Shonda Rhimes of her day. Her stories were addictive to fans of the Romantic style, but they were a bit stupid and easy to mock. (Austen, herself, would parody Radcliffe in her novel, Northanger Abbey.)

Radcliffe wrote blockbusters — The Romance of the Forest, The Mysteries of Udolpho, and The Italian are to name a few. Pretty much all of her stories featured an innocent young lady, her captivated paramour, and a wicked villain whose chief aim was to pry the lovers apart.

I have a theory about why Radcliffe's writing didn't age well. First, her characters don't seem like real people. They're archetypal — the blushing, young maiden... her dashing rescuer... their wise, old mentor... As such, these characters are familiar to the modern reader, but they're also two dimensional. They fail to captivate. This was a typical misstep in Romantic fiction.

On top of that, Radcliffe tended to be long-winded. She spent too many words on the description and imagery of her eerie, gothic settings. This measured up to suspense, even horror, for her contemporary readers, but it can't begin to impress modern people. As the Romantic style waned, so did appreciation of Radcliffe's work...

Jane Austen, however, did many things in direct opposition to Radcliffe. For one thing, the focus of Austen's novels are themes common to all humanity (love, marriage, friendship, follies), not titillating stories written in a trendy style. Austen's characters are different from Radcliffe's, too. 

The regency idea of gothic horror — a giant helmet falling from the sky.

They are highly exclusive creations. You certainly couldn't find a Mrs. Bennet in The Epic of Gilgamesh. Because Austen contrived to be universal in theme, but original in characterization, her work has aged well.

Sir Walter Scott was also huge during Austen's lifetime. His claim to fame was a series of books (Waverley being the foremost) that portrayed the political conflicts between the English and the Scottish...

Good God, could Scott write a boring book. 

I had to push myself through every word of Waverley in college, and I came out on the other side not knowing what the hell I just read. My lasting impressions of his book are of an uninspiring protagonist, one or two (deeply unimpressive) female characters, and assorted descriptions of Scottish waterfalls.

The chief reason why Waverley is excruciating to modern readers is its abundance of editorial footnotes that one simply must read to have any chance at comprehension. After all, the various skirmishes that divided the north and south of Britain in the late-18th to early-19th centuries don't exactly have a starring role in World History textbooks. 

Austen, on the flip side, did not discuss politics or current events in her novels. At the most, they were merely alluded to. For example, in P&P, Wickham's military regiment is stationed in Meryton, but no explanation is given for their presence. Of course, they were there to protect England from Napoleon's forces in the event of an invasion! It adds a bit of depth to the story if you know this, but I enjoyed P&P for over a decade before I learned this.

So why did Austen limit her focus to daily life in middle class England? I'm not exactly sure. Austen was definitely aware of political fiction — in fact, she was a fan of Waverley. Perhaps she felt poorly equipped to share political opinions. Perhaps she wanted to stick to her strongest suit — her penetrative observations of her own social class. Whatever guided her decision, her spotlight on human behavior wound up appealing to many generations of readers, precisely because those behaviors are always relevant to us.

Why Is Pride and Prejudice Austen's Most Popular Novel?

Austen's completed novels are: 

• Northanger Abbey
• Pride and Prejudice 
• Sense and Sensibility
• Mansfield Park
• Emma
• Persuasion

  In addition, she wrote short stories, novellas, plays, and when she died, she had two novels left unfinished. For passing away in her early forties (most likely from breast cancer), Austen gifted humanity with a great deal of quality fiction in her lifetime.

Of course, all of Austen's novels have been adapted for film, and those movies and series are enduringly popular.

Now, ask a group of Austen fanatics what their favorite adaptation is, and you'll definitely get mixed bag of answers. Ask them which is their favorite of the books, however, and you'll get pretty much straight "Pride and Prejudice" answers across the board.

Anyone who doesn't say "Pride and Prejudice" is lying — either to you or to themselves.

Take me. For a while, I went through a phase of saying Persuasion was my fave. I was just trying to be edgy. I've read Persuasion, like, two times. I've read Pride and Prejudice countlessly.

Funnily enough, P&P was everyone's favorite, even when Austen was alive. She definitely knew this, and understood why, too. Pride and Prejudice, she wrote, was her happiest novel — it was "light, bright, and sparkling."

The idea we need to fight, however, is that P&P is somehow less worthy as a piece of literature because it's so satisfying and enjoyable. Suffering and hardship is highly compelling, to be sure, but it is not the entire human experience. There's more than enough room in our literary canon for stories showcasing the best parts of life. 

For all it's levity, however, P&P is still an Austen novel. It penetrative and sharp as a skewer. Anyone who thinks the story isn't worthy, isn't worth our time. Nobody should ever be ashamed of loving Pride and Prejudice. 

Pride and Prejudice and the Male Hormone

Is there anything — anything — more annoying than some guy asking you your favorite book, you telling him, "Pride and Prejudice," and him sneering at you? 

And then he says, "Why? Because of Mister What's-his-Face?" 

And you're like, "Sure. And it's really smart and funny." But it doesn't matter what you say to him because he's a deeply useless person.

I've been asked many times what my favorite books is and, since it always changes, I've given many answers...

OUT OF ALL MY FAVORITE BOOKS, NO OTHER HAS PROVOKED MORE MALE DERISION THAN PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 

Why is this? I have many theories.

• Some men are threatened by deeply romantic stories because they feel unimpressive compared to the male love interest.
• Love stories explore emotions, and many men, especially modern men, have been taught to suppress, even deride, feelings.
• Pride and Prejudice is written from the heart of the feminine experience and there are lots of men out there who hate women. 
• Jane Austen didn't put any explosions, weapons, or physical action into Pride and Prejudice, and those things are particularly exciting to the male hormone.

Are there any other theories out there? If so, let me know in the comments. 

Pride and Prejudice and Absurdity

What the detractors of P&P don't appreciate is the wicked sense of humor that lived inside Jane Austen. Her particular comic talent lay in her observations and depictions of human absurdity. In this, she was a master.

There's one piece of dialogue, said by Mr. Bennet, that seems to come straight from Austen' own mouth: "What do we live, but to make sport for our neighbours, and laugh at them in our turn?"

We know that Austen liked to observe people, much like her famous heroine, Elizabeth Bennet. In her surviving letters, she provides plenty of razor-sharp descriptions of the people around her. She wrote these to entertain her family and friends, and she was at her funniest when she skewered anything ridiculous. She had a knack for picking out the heart of an absurdity before her and serving it up with exquisite deadpan.

Austen was conscious that her comedy mixed in with her romance might turn off some readers. Nevertheless, she decided to stick to her own style. I think I speak for every Austen fan when I say... I'm so glad she didn't compromise her humor. Pride and Prejudice would simply not be the same without its absurd cast of characters.

What Makes Pride and Prejudice Truly Special?

What makes P&P truly special is everything I just discussed with you and so much more. It's author, Jane Austen, was a spectacularly talented writer who honed her craft through years of diligent practice. Pride and Prejudice was, and remains, the sparkling gemstone at the center of the crown she earned herself. 

Pride and Prejudice is more than a story. It's a standard.

DISCUSSION OF TURTLES ALL THE WAY DOWN, BY JOHN GREEN

!!! WARNING: SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

A Synopsis and Summary of Turtles All the Way Down

Aza Holmes is a teenage girl living with one hell of an anxiety disorder. Aza is obsessed with and terrified by the human microbiota — the host of trillions of microorganisms that make up at least half, if not more, of the human body's mass.

The human microbiota is discomfiting, for sure, but most human beings are able to live and operate without worrying about it all the time. But Aza cannot stop thinking about it. Her fears are all wrapped up in a dread for illness and death, which is compounded by the traumatic loss of her father at a young age.

For Aza, the physical "locus" of her anxiety is the pad of her middle finger. For years, Aza has pressed her nail into the pad, so often that a callous has formed there. When she's feeling very anxious, Aza opens up a crack in the callous, causing it to bleed. She keeps fresh band-aids on the spot all the time, and ritualistically disinfects the crack with sanitizer.

Aza's mind is not just "quirky." It's deeply unwell.

The Plot Begins

The story begins with Indianapolis being rocked with some news — one of its citizens has gone missing, a billionaire by the name of Russell Pickett, conveniently right before police arrived to arrest him for all sorts of business crimes. There is a $100,000 reward being offered for information of his whereabouts.

Years before, Aza had attended "Sad Camp" with Russell Pickett's son, Davis, and they had been friendly. Because of this connection, Aza's bestie, an effervescent, fan-fiction author named Daisy, is convinced that she and Aza might have a shot at winning the reward.

Recalling that Davis had once set up a game camera on the outskirts of the Pickett property, Aza takes Daisy trespassing to download pictures from the camera. They find a picture of Russell Pickett leaving his property on the night of his disappearance, but the girls are apprehended by the Pickett's security. Daisy resourcefully lies, claiming they were going to visit Davis.

When Aza and Daisy are presented to Davis, he instantly recognizes Aza. He confides that quite of few of his old friends have been cropping up since the announcement of the big reward. Daisy quickly tells Davis that Aza used to have a crush on him, and that his name in the news had been stirring up her fond memories — that is why they are visiting. Aza is embarrassed, but because Daisy's story is partly true, she doesn't correct her friend.

Davis, who remembers Aza's favorite drink, offers them Dr. Peppers by the pool outside. On a little island at the center of the pool, a biome habitat has been built for Russell Pickett's pet tuatara — a rare reptile that is the only surviving member of the order, Rhynchocephalia, which once flourished 200 million years ago. The girls learn that Pickett had been obsessed with the tuatara, and even meet the zoologist that the billionaire kept to research and care for the reptile.

Before the girls leave, Aza puts her number in Davis's phone.

The Plot Thickens

At Applebee's, where Aza and Daisy routinely go to study, the girls begin their investigation into Russell Pickett's disappearance. 

Daisy is able to con an inexperienced reporter, through email, into sending them a copy of the police report. From it, they learn how Davis, and his younger brother, Noah, had no idea that their father was preparing to run. The girls also learn that Pickett had willed all of his considerable wealth to a foundation dedicated to the care of his tuatara. He had left nothing to his sons.

 At school, the girls' friend, the artistic Mychal, asks Daisy out. Daisy is not 100% enthusiastic, and only sort-of accepts Mychal's offer, by arranging for her, Mychal, Aza, and Davis to have a double date at Applebee's. The teens have a good time at the "mid-quality restaurant chain," all except Aza, who is overcome by intrusive thoughts concerning microorganisms, parasitic life, illness, and death.

After their dinner, the teens go to Davis's house. Mychal is ecstatic to see all the famous artwork on display there. Aza, herself, becomes absorbed by a painting by Raymond Pettibon, depicting a spiral. It draws her in, because it is the exact representation of her mental illness.

Mychal and Daisy disappear together, leaving Davis and Aza alone. They wind up outside and talk about the stars and the cosmos — Davis's interests. Aza talks him into reciting some of his poetry compositions, which charm Aza so thoroughly that she kisses Davis.

As they are kissing, though, Aza becomes overwhelmed with panic and eventually pulls away. Davis encourages her to confide in him, and Aza begins to ramble about the human microbiota. The fact that Aza is anxious isn't a new revelation to Davis. He is familiar with her disorder from their time spent together as kids. He even knows about Aza's middle finger.

Having shared this moment with Aza, Davis suddenly becomes upset. He takes her to an outbuilding and pours out the contents of a box of cereal, revealing a stack of bills. Davis explains that it's $100,000, and that his dad obsessively squirreled away cash in hiding places around the estate. He gives Aza the money, the exact amount of the reward, insisting that it's for his peace of mind. Now, he says, he can talk with Aza and not worry that she's trying to exploit him.

The Protagonist Finds a New Motivation

 

The next day, Aza gives Daisy half of the money — $50,000. Daisy is overcome. Her family struggles financially, and it's been an acute source of stress. In the following days, Daisy buys a car and a laptop, and quits her much-loathed job at Chuck E. Cheese.

Unlike Daisy, Aza does not lose interest in Russell Pickett's whereabouts. An earlier night, at the Pickett house, Aza spoke to Noah. Noah is struggling with his father's disappearance, acting out at school and withdrawing into video games. Because his mother is long dead, Noah has no parent to guide him, just caretakers who are paid to look after him, and an older brother who is also in limbo. Noah gives Aza the files of his father's cryptic phone notes, which are probable clues to his location. Noah asks Aza to try to find his dad.

Aza figures out most of the notes. They all refer to living on the run, faking one's own death, and avoiding extradition. There's one phrase she can't figure out, though — "in the jogger's mouth." She becomes convinced that it refers to Pickett's location.

Aza grows closer to Davis, although they agree to not try at a relationship, due to Aza's ever-worsening anxieties. However, Daisy and Aza's friendship flies off the rails when Aza finally reads Daisy's Star Wars fan-fiction. Unbeknownst to Aza, Daisy had created a detestable character called Ayala, whose mental failings are clear imitations of Aza's own. When Aza confronts her, Daisy erupts, criticizing Aza's self-absorption and privilege, causing a distraught Aza to crash her car.

In the hospital for a lacerated liver, Aza suffers a mental breakdown and is caught swallowing hand sanitizer. Daisy's psychiatrist comes to visit and promises that Daisy will survive her mental illness.

Everything Comes Together

 

Aza and Daisy make up and become even stronger friends. Aza tries to describe her mental illness to Daisy, who has never really understood it. Aza explains how she is constantly trying to find the "Real Me," at her core, but how she can never find the real center of herself, because, like nesting dolls, the illness surrounding her is infinite.

 

Aza's analogy reminds Daisy of a story. A scientist is explaining the cosmos to an auditorium and after his lecture he takes questions. An old woman raises her hand and explains that the scientist is incorrect. The world rests upon the back of a giant turtle. The scientist, aggrieved, asks what's beneath the turtle. "Another turtle," replies the woman. "It's turtles all the way down." Daisy explains to Aza that she's looking at her existential crisis the wrong way. It's not nesting dolls, infinitely. It's turtles, infinitely.

Although Daisy and Aza have come back together, Aza's relationship with Davis crumbles, largely due to Aza's illness. "You can't do it the other way... and I can't do it this way," Davis writes to her. "It makes me feel like you only like me at a distance. I need to be liked close up." Aza is upset with his decision, but doesn't contest it.

Later, Daisy and Aza are supporting Mychal at his first pop-up gallery showing, in an abandoned tunnel called "Pogue's Run." At the art show, Daisy and Aza wonder off down the tunnel until they reach the mouth of the White River. Piecing together clues and intuition, Aza realizes that they have found the "jogger's mouth." With a sinking feeling, she realizes that there is a very bad smell in the air.

She confides her suspicion to Davis, and a few days later, he and Noah call in an anonymous tip to the police. Afterward, Russell Pickett's body is found in Pogue's Run.

In the aftermath, Davis drives by Aza's house one night to drop off a large package. He tries to leave without saying anything, but Aza stops him. She opens the package and finds the famous painting of the spiral that had captured her at the Pickett's house. Davis tells her that he stole it "from the lizard." It's a goodbye gift, because he's leaving. Noah was accepted into a boarding school for troubled kids in Colorado. Davis will be moving close by. He finally understands what he needs to do now — be a big brother.

Davis bids her farewell and leaves, but Aza feels heartened by something he once said — "no one ever says goodbye unless they want to see you again."

 

"He’d taken most of the pictures himself, so you rarely see him—instead, you see what he saw, what looked interesting to him, which was mostly me, Mom, and the sky broken up by tree branches."

 What Does the Title Mean

 

Like everyone, when I first heard the title Turtles All the Way Down, I was puzzled. When I finally got my hands on a copy, I went into it ready to find out the meaning behind such an unusual title.

Green alludes to the "...All the Way Down" part early in the novel. In the very first chapter, Aza likens her mental illness to a spiral, saying, "the thing about a spiral is, if you follow it inward, it never actually ends. It just keeps tightening, infinitely" (7). Spirals curl inward, but they also move downward. This, combined with the book's meaningful cover art, is our first hint that the title refers to Aza's mental illness.

But where do turtles fit in?

Those reptiles first appear when Aza describes the White River of Indianapolis. The river is depicted as a shallow, little waterway that is "lousy with turtles" (23). This mention made me jump to attention, but, alas, there was nothing substantial about this inaugural appearance of the word. At that point, the "turtles" are merely a descriptor for the setting, and also a sort of teaser.

The Turtles Are Part of a Parable

 

John Green uses exact phrase, "turtles all the way down" near the very end of the book, when Aza is trying to explain her illness to Daisy, and Daisy is struggling to understand (244-5 ).

“You just, like, hate yourself? You hate being yourself?”

Aza replies:

“There’s no self to hate. It’s like, when I look into myself, there’s no actual me—just a bunch of thoughts and behaviors and circumstances. And a lot of them just don’t feel like they’re mine... And when I look for the, like, Real Me, I never find it. It’s like those nesting dolls, you know? The ones that are hollow, and then when you open them up, there’s a smaller doll inside, and you keep opening hollow dolls until eventually you get to the smallest one, and it’s solid all the way through. But with me, I don’t think there is one that’s solid. They just keep getting smaller.”

Basically, Aza is saying that all the things that make up her identity — her thoughts, her actions, etc. — all those things seem tainted by her mental illness. She's upset because she can never tell where her illness ends and the real Aza begins. She thinks that maybe... maybe she doesn't even exist at all.

We've seen her struggle with this idea from the very first pages of the book, when she wonders if she's the author of her own life, or if she's just what's written by forces greater than herself. At her lowest point, after her car accident, Aza even comes to the conclusion that her entire self is permeated by her illness, and she actually has no identity at all: "I knew how disgusting I was. I knew. I knew now for sure. I wasn’t possessed by a demon. I was the demon" (229.)

This is a terrible way to think about oneself. It is a mindset that has relinquished the struggle for control. I think that point, when you give up, is rock bottom.

But Daisy, being an insightful friend, is able to adjust Aza's thinking by using a method that Aza can understand and embrace — metaphor.

“So [a scientist] gives this whole presentation about the history of earth and life on it, and then at the end, he asks if there are any questions. An old woman in the back raises her hand, and says, ‘...The truth is, the earth is a flat plane resting on the back of a giant turtle.’

“The scientist...responds, ‘Well, but if that’s so, what is the giant turtle standing upon?’

“And the woman says, ‘It is standing upon the shell of another giant turtle.’

“And now... he says, ‘Well, then what is that turtle standing upon?’

“And the old woman says, ‘Sir, you don’t understand. It’s turtles all the way down.’" (245.)

Upon hearing Daisy's story, Aza experiences "something akin to a spiritual revelation." "It's turtles all the way down," she laughs. "It's turtles all the way fucking down," Daisy agrees.

John Green doesn't explain Aza's epiphany at that moment, although Aza and Daisy seem to get it. But later, Aza considers the "turtles all the way down" parable:

I started thinking... maybe the old lady and the scientist were both right. Like, the world is billions of years old, and life is a product of nucleotide mutation and everything. But the world is also the stories we tell about it (257).

Aza's big mistake is that she's been believing the stories she tells about herself are true. She's been believing that microorganisms are in control of her fate, and that she's nothing but illness through and through, when really it could just be... turtles all the way down. She finally understands that the actual truth matters just as much as how we choose to understand it. And we can understand the truth in lots of different ways, some more productive than others.

So, we finally understand the title. "Turtles All the Way Down" refers to the way we can interpret our reality however we want. Instead of telling ourselves stories that overwhelm us, we can choose to tell stories that make us strong.

This Actually Relates to Something Called Cognitive Behavioral Therapy

 

The concept behind "Turtles All the Way Down," has strong ties to Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT), a therapeutic strategy that is actually mentioned in the book.

You should unwrap that Band-Aid and check to see if there is an infection.

You don’t actually want to do this; it’s just an invasive. Everyone has them. But you can’t shut yours up. Since you’ve had a reasonable amount of cognitive behavioral therapy, you tell yourself, I am not my thoughts, even though deep down you’re not sure what exactly that makes you. Then you tell yourself to click a little x in the top corner of the thought to make it go away. And maybe it does for a moment; you’re back in your house, on the couch, next to your mom, and then your brain says, Well, but wait. What if your finger is infected? Why not just check? (45-6).

This quotation here is an example of someone (Aza) who knows how CBT works, but can't quite use it effectively. I understand Aza's predicament completely, because I have undergone CBT as well. Some days it works like a charm. On other days, with other situations, it can't get traction...

Take for instance, an example from my own life. When I'm very stressed, I have "invasive thoughts" that bear a strong resemblance to pop-up ads. They take the shape of really bad memories. My mind presents these memories to me, insistently, seemingly out of nowhere.

For a long time, I tried to get rid of these thoughts using a CBT strategy — I realize that these memories are unproductive. Go away, memories. Go!

But that didn't work. The flood of bad memory pop-ups overcame my CBT methods. However, when I told my therapist about these intrusive memories and my failure to stop them, she offered an alternate CBT strategy — to make new, more positive narratives for each memory, one by one.

Unpacking these horrible memories in order to re-tell them in pleasant or humorous ways was NOT fun, nor was it easy. However, it did tend to work. When a horrible memory stopped being totally bad, my brain no longer threw it at me when I was stressed.

In essence, my CBT success with my intrusive memories was similar to the "Turtles All the Way Down" method. With each bad memory, I was telling myself a certain story. When I re-wrote the story, the memory lost its power over me.

Turtles All the Way Down is Ultimately a Therapy Positive Book

 

In the acknowledgements of Turtles All the Way Down, John Green thanks his own mental health practitioners. I thought that was extremely moving, even though it maybe wasn't written to have that effect. For every person who has been transformed positively by therapy, his gratitude speaks to us.

I've been with my current therapist for a decade now. Maybe to some people, that seems sad, that I have had to go to therapy for so long. I couldn't disagree more. Mental illness, for many people, is a lifelong struggle. During the course, there are highs and lows. It's difficult to pull yourself out of the lows, so that makes it important to learn good strategies during those highs, when you're feeling strong. That's why consistent therapy is important for those who have mental illness.

There have been a few books out there lately that feature protagonists with mental illness, and therapy is either not a factor in the books, or it is depicted as unhelpful. Certainly, many people with mental illness have the experience of not being able to access therapy. And some people get less-than-stellar therapists or they don't react well to the therapy process. Those are real situations.

But do they deserve to be widely depicted in YA lit?

I say no.  We need to have more books that depict therapy and show the overwhelmingly positive impact it can have. That's why I'm so happy that John Green has used his talent and his stature to pass on a therapy-positive message.

The Worth of Turtles All the Way Down

 

Turtles All the Way Down is a great book and a worthwhile book. It was an absorbing read and it made me think very deeply.

If I taught literature to young people, I wouldn't hesitate to assign Turtles All the Way Down. For people with mental illness, like Aza, this story would help them understand themselves better. For people with healthier minds, it would be a window into an another human experience.

And for everyone, this book will explain the importance of stories, and why we are compelled to tell them.

Works Cited

 

Green, John. Turtles All the Way Down. Dutton Books, 2017.

 

Thoughts on the YA Twitter Exposé and Bad Dialogue

[dropcap]Y[/dropcap]esterday, "YA Twitter" started trending. This little corner of the Twitter universe, devoted to the news and promotion of YA literature, was spinning with distress. Vulture.com, an entertainment news outlet, had published an article by Kat Rosenfield that threw the virtue of this book-obsessed hive mind into question. The biggest line from the piece?

"I have never seen social interaction this fucked up. And I’ve been in prison."

Some contributors to YA Twitter expressed sadness over the situation. Most, however, expressed their outrage. And for almost every tweet of ire that I read, I found myself growing more and more exasperated.

One tweet said, "can you imagine writing about the race and representation controversies on YA twitter and, like, only interviewing white people?" ... which leaves me bemused. There is zero indication in Rosenfield's article that she interviewed only white people. In fact, her most heavily quoted sources preferred to remain anonymous. Who is to know their race? What makes this tweeter assume the worst of Rosenfield?

Another reads, "Imagine being like 'I'm going to fix the toxic drama of YA twitter by putting a bunch of teens on blast yep I'm a logic expert'." Having actually read Rosenfield's article, I know that the writer didn't, in fact, rake teenagers through the coals. In actuality, she focuses on the adults on YA Twitter. Rosenfield says:

The teens who make up the community’s core audience are getting fed up with the constant, largely adult-driven dramas that currently dominate YA. Some have taken to discussing books via backchannels or on teen-exclusive hashtags — or defecting to other platforms, like YouTube or Instagram, which aren’t so given over to mob dynamics. 

To me, this quotation is absolute proof that the article's critic did not "critically" read the piece. He or she, ironically, is proving Rosenfield's point — that dialogue is broken on YA Twitter because of rampant assumptions, abysmal snap-judgements, and F-minus reading comprehension. 

In the Interest of Full Disclosure...

[dropcap]I[/dropcap]t wasn't on YA Twitter, but I have found myself wheezing under a dogpile after attempting to join a racial discussion on a pop culture message board. Twice. 

In one instance, I shared some thoughts about Trump voters, post-election. Perhaps not all Trump voters are racist, I mused, but nonetheless engaged in "soft racism" by voting for a person who promotes racist policies. 

[Update 8/15/2017: If you STILL support Trump, you are a racist. You have no excuses. You are a white supremacist.]

The backlash was swift and it was brutal. Replies were expletive-ridden and personally accusatory, making my eyes sting and face blush. My creation of the term, "soft racism," I gathered, was absolute and total fuckery in the eyes of the room.

I tried to explain that my words, "soft racism," stemmed from the established term "soft sexism," and that it wasn't an absolution, but part of an attempt to classify a spectra of racist behavior. I only dug myself deeper with that one, and got to endure more verbal spankings.

If someone had, with reason and politesse, explained to me why they found fault with my point, I would have appreciated it. But that kind of dialogue was impossible in the climate I was in.

A few months passed and my memory of the annihilation lapsed. I went back to the message board and (stupidly) entered another discussion. In this case, I shared my (white) experience of trying not to make tense racial interactions "all about me." My response? Sudden and immediate death by GIF.

I don't visit that message board anymore. It became plain to me that, in that forum, my voice was not an acceptable sound. 

Use Your Reaction-Media Responsibly

[dropcap]B[/dropcap]ecause of these experiences, my mind sometimes goes through these cycles: [1. Primary Thought] [2. Punishing Reaction Thought] [3. Resentful Reassertion of Primary Thought].

For example: [1. Oops, I accidentally used a Black Twitter hashtag and joined in a discussion that's not applicable to me.] [2. I'm so embarrassed.] [3. It was an accident. If anyone tweets back and tries to humiliate me, then they're a rude person and I hate them.]

To be quite clear, I'm not happy with the resentment that lives inside me like an angry seed. But it only grows more roots whenever I witness a damaging dialogue taking place. For clarification, to me, a damaging dialogue includes any of the following:

• Personal attacks.


• Temperamental tones.


• Recurrent misinterpretation.


• An abusive use of handclap emojis.

Because all of those things makes people feel uncomfortable, hurt, attacked, resentful, and, ultimately, even more set in their own opinions.

I'm reading a book right now called Change of Heart: What Psychology Can Teach Us About Spreading Social Change.  It's written by a psychologist for an audience of social activists. The author, Nick Cooney, warns against using abusive or harsh tactics to initiate change:

"As a general human characteristic, people accept inner responsibility for a choice only in the absence of a strong external pressure to make that choice... If we can get decision-makers to change policies with just a small amount of pressure, they're more likely to attribute that change to their own desire to do so and are therefore more likely to maintain the new policy in the future. If the pressure exerted is extremely high, then even if they do change, they'll see their decision as nothing more than a response to pressure — meaning they're more likely to backslide when pressure is no longer placed on them."

Cooney cites Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. as a person who used extremely effective, change-resultant strategies. King's strategy, explains Cooney, was "escalating," meaning that he would begin his push-backs gently, and grow gradually more firm in response to opposition. 

Such a strategy may not be swift and overwhelming, but it is deceptively powerful.

YA Twitter needs to take note. Their progressive ideals are good and right, but they're promoted with a metaphorical shotgun — overwhelming, loud, and largely target-inaccurate. Many of these twitter activists for social change are being bullies, and effectually shooting their objective in the foot.

"You Don't Have the Range; Stay In Your Lane."

Maybe it's satisfying to put certain people in their place. But the onlookers to that exclusionary and discourse-snuffing language are getting disturbed. 

I remember, maybe half a year ago, seeing a teenage book-blogger break down to her friends on Twitter, because the "YA" corner of the site was making her feel sick and discouraged. This incident was so long ago, that I don't know where to begin in tracking it down. But it stayed with me, because this kiddo hadn't done anything to provoke people's ire. She was merely reacting to the climate in which she was trying to discuss books.

A Call To Action

[dropcap]M[/dropcap]y Call-To-Action for this post is for people to consider their goal when they interact with someone or something they disagree with. Most of us, I would gander, don't want to embarrass or punish others, but to instigate a change in their hearts and minds. The best way to do this, both science and history shows us, is to be gentle, calm, and true.

Discussion of Kulti, by Mariana Zapata

C O N T A I N S   S P O I L E R S !!!

Welcome to our new now well established discussion feature!  We’ve realized that sometimes a review isn’t enough. More and more, we wanted to share our thoughts using actual examples from the books we read… AKA ‘SPOILERS.’ It is, of course, rude to give away too much in book reviews, although it is a delicate line to walk. You don’t want a review to have no examples, but you can’t push it too far.  There are always spoiler tags, of course… but we've wanted to write full-on essays about certain books, and tags aren’t good enough anymore. We need to write more down!

This time around, I, Ellen, want to discuss a book that I’ve re-read more times than perhaps any other novel. Yes, this post is a discussion of Kulti, by Mariana Zapata.

A Synopsis and Summary of Kulti

Sal Casillas, 27, is living her dream of being a professional athlete. She's a forward for the Houston Pipers, a U.S. women's soccer team. Sal's grandfather was a South American soccer icon, and while Sal may have inherited his chops, there's no question that decades of bruising hard work got her to this point. That, and Kulti. Without the inspiration of Reiner Kulti, a German soccer player, Sal might never have kept pushing herself.

Sal was a little girl when she saw Kulti's soccer debut on TV, and the athlete immediately became her idol. Over the years, Sal sent fan mail, hung up posters in her room, and fantasied about their marriage. She was devastated when he made it legal with someone else, a Swedish actress (who he divorced soon after). Throughout it all, she remained his number one fan.

At the start of the book, Sal gets the shock of her life when Kulti, retired from playing for a number of years, signs on to the coaching staff of the Houston Pipers — her own team.

Her starry eyes are quickly dimmed, however, when she finds that Kulti is brusque, insular, and rude. Sal also discovers that Kulti is recovering from a bout of alcoholism, but after she helps him keep a night of relapse discreet, she receives no word of thanks. The tipping point comes when, after a match, Sal's father approaches Kulti and is harshly rebuffed. Furious, Sal gives Kulti a dressing down, topping off her tirade with some over-the-top epithets. Sal's outburst is reported by a rival teammate, but to her surprise, Kulti defends her and sends a letter of apology to her father. Later, after giving her former idol a few lifts home, Sal is bowled over to find herself one of Kulti's few friends.

Before long, Kulti is tagging along to all of Sal's activiteis — pick-up softball games, the doctor's office, charity events, and even back home to visit her parents. Sal is dismayed to find her childhood obsession growing into the real deal... with the real person.

After the publicity team for the Pipers rebukes Sal for her public appearances with Kulti, Sal is surprised when the man himself unyieldingly comes to her defense, refusing to compromise his friendship with her. He flagrantly continues to flout the management's commands of discretion. Consequently, Sal is soon alerted that the Piper's intend to drop her from the team. She begins to shop for a new opportunity abroad.

By the time the Piper's season is drawing to a close, Sal and Kulti are close to admitting their attraction. And when the Piper's management pulls Sal from the final matches due to complaints of favoritism, Kulti barters an extension of his contract in exchange for Sal's ban being lifted. In an attack of emotion, Sal expresses her doubt that Kulti wants to be with her. Kulti kisses Sal in protest, and informs her that he's merely waiting for their coach/player relationship to expire before he makes his big move. 

After the Piper's final game, which they lose, Sal is disheartened to find that most of her teammates have turned against her. She's lightened, however, by Kulti's unwavering support and his admission that he plans to renege on his verbal agreement to keep coaching the Pipers. When they return to Sal's apartment after the season's close, the two begin their romance. 

Before they get far, however, Sal admits, with extreme embarrassment, that she loved Kulti as a kid, and that he was her idol and obsession. To her shock, Kulti seems knowing. He shows Sal an image on his phone, a picture of the first letter she sent him, explaining that it was his first piece of fan mail. He reveals that he kept the letter in his various lockers throughout his career, and that it currently resides in his home in Germany, framed. He admits that he came to the Houston Pipers to coach who he though was the best women's forward in the world — Sal — and that he only later discovered that she was the girl who wrote the letter. Destiny, he insists, was at play in bringing them together. 

To close the book, we read a press clipping from years into the future, announcing "Salome Casillas Kulti's" retirement from the sport. She was picked up by the women's soccer team in Frankfurt, Germany, where she eventually served as team captain and led Germany to a world championship, playing for their national team. 

When is an age difference okay?

In Kulti, the eponymous romantic hero is nearly forty and Sal is in her early twenties. Is this squick? 

Nah. Their situation is actually pretty romantic. The age difference needed to be there to support the angle the Sal would grow up to marry her childhood idol. That hook, you have to admit, is really fucking cute. The revelation that Kulti kept Sal's fan-mail before he even knew her? Guh! Destiny! 

Then there's the fact that Sal is attracted to older men. Not her like her father's age, or in a sugar daddy capacity... just seasoned men. I can appreciate that. Younger men, or man-boys who haven't been through shit, can be the most obnoxious beings on the planet. So yeah, why wouldn't Sal be attracted to a fit soccer icon, who has gotten life experience, and whose posters used to grace her bedroom? 

Moreover, Sal is independent and solid for her age — a woman rather than a girl. She is stable and in no way a prey candidate. That's what usually grosses me out with spring/winter relationships. So often, the younger person involved is damaged or vulnerable. And the older partner is drawn to birds with broken wings. I've seen it in people close to me and it's creepy and hair-raising. I'm happy to say that none of my squick alarms were triggered by Kulti. The romance is really not problematic or borderline in any way. It's just two adults who love each other.

Why is sal so admirable?

Sal stands out of the crowd as a fantastic character, and a big part of that is how admirable she is. She's one of the best soccer players in the world, but is humble to the core. She's made it incredibly far, but had worked hard for every inch of her progress. She does charity work. She's loyal to her friends. She has the cutest dad ever. (Okay, that doesn't have to do with anything Sal does, but still.) 

A big part of Kulti's success, I think, is you want Sal to get a happily ever after, because she deserves it so freaking much. She's such a good person. And it makes perfect sense that a famous, rich icon like Kulti would fall in love with her. There's no element of disbelief there. We're in love with her, too.

zapata is the queen of slow burn

For anyone who doesn't know, Mariana Zapata is a genius when it comes to slow burn romance. Her pairs smolder until the final chapters of her books, when they finally ignite to our infinite excitement and relief. Also, every single book she's written features a slow burn, making her a true queen of the device.

Part of what makes Zapata so masterful, too, is that her romances rarely, if ever, seemed contrived or artificially prolonged. Overwhelmingly, there are solid emotional or external reasons that keep her pairs from moving in quickly. Because of that, we get to enjoy — or squirm from — a ton of sexual suspense. In a market where many books have consummation in the early chapters, Zapata's jam is a breath of fresh air.

And I think, out of all her books, Kulti has the absolute best slow burn. And it definitely has the most satisfying ending.

the science behind 'tsundere'

"Tsundere" is a Japanese term that describes a love interest who is cranky or mean, but eventually warms up to be a pile of emotional jelly. It's one of my favorite tropes, and Reiner Kulti fits the term to a 'T' in this book. He starts out rude and curt, but opens up gradually, like an über-masculine flower.

I read a fascinating article just the other day that explains why so many people are drawn to this character formula, too. Apparently, a study was done where people watched footage of subjects describing their take on others they just met. The subjects who described a "change of heart," where they disliked someone, but then warmed up to them, were overwhelmingly voted the most likable by the people watching the footage. Basically, human beings love it when they can see an arc of change in someone — when someone changes their mind, or adapts. It's our nature to sympathize and admire that.

It makes sense, right?

us against the world

Another reason to love Reiner Kulti, is how when he decided he was friends with Sal, he was so in. Nothing and nobody could mess with her or with their unit. It's an "us against the world" mentality, and it's the biggest psychological perk to coupledom that I can think of. Who else melted into goo when he promised they would be a "team" forever?

It's so satisfying to read about, especially when everyone seemed to be turning against Sal unfairly. Amidst all the injustice, Kulti was a still, devoted rock, ready to smash some kneecaps. (Seriously, the descriptions of his party fouls on the field during his career were some of the highlights of the book. The part where Sal recalls when Kulti's teammate had a vertebra dislocated during a match, and in the aftermath the camera panned to Kulti, who was... tying his shoe. Omg...)

This may be a good time to mention that I think the Piper management storyline was underdeveloped. We know that the head of the Pipers management dislikes Sal rather intensely, but the only real insight we're given into why is how Sal refused to let them make it public that she was the granddaughter of a famous South American soccer star. Because Sal's team's turning on her was such an important part of the plot, I think it deserved more page-space to let us fully understand the situation. Just my two cents there.

What that storyline, however undeveloped, accomplished, was giving Kulti and Sal a common adversary. Kulti was made famous by his shark-like attitude on and off the soccer pitch, so when he teams up with Sal and puts his considerable talents of intimidation to the task of defending her... Well, it's just really satisfying.

the bottom line

I'm not exaggerating when I say Kulti is one of my favorite books I've ever read. Zapata has a sparse, matter-of-fact style that can be weird to get used to, especially if you're used to reading more graceful books. At first, her writing can come across as unaccomplished. But I think it's apparent, by the end of the book, that Zapata is a masterful emotional plotter. Each phase of Sal and Kulti's slow grind into infatuation and love is written so organically. This book sweeps you away. 

Discussion of Lord of Scoundrels, by Loretta Chase

It's a story about a beautiful spinster who's always the cleverest person in the room. It's a story about the biggest scoundrel in the peerage who falls in love with her. It's a story about two forces of nature who, after ruining and shooting each other, decide to team up through holiest matrimony. What could possibly get in their way?

Welcome to our discussion feature!  We’ve realized that sometimes a review isn’t enough. More and more, we want to share our thoughts using actual examples from the story. It is, of course, rude to give away too much in book reviews, although it is a delicate line to walk. You don’t want a review to have no examples, but you can’t push it too far.  There are always spoiler tags, of course… but we've wanted to write full-on essays about certain books, and tags aren’t good enough anymore. We need to write more down!

This time around, I, Ellen, want to discuss a book that utterly shocked me. It shocked me because it was so good, as opposed to bad. Yes, this post is a discussion of Lord of Scoundrels by Loretta Chase.

C O N T A I N S   S P O I L E R S !!!

A Summary of Lord of Scoundrels by Loretta Chase

Lord of Scoundrels begins with a prologue detailing the early life of Sebastien, or "Dain," the male protagonist of the novel. Sebastien's mother was Italian nobility, and the second wife of an English peer. The marriage is a disaster, as the Italian Marchioness is high-strung, emotional, and volcanically carnal while her husband is cold, staid, and prudish.

[caption id="attachment_5108" align="alignleft" width="228"] I imagine Dain's mother would look like Bruna Tenorio.[/caption]

After producing one son, their marriage eventually deteriorates to the point where the Marchioness runs off with another man. Furious with his wife's scandalous action, the old Marquess tells a young Sebastien that his mother was "Jezebel," and she'd be eaten by dogs on her way to hell.

To rid himself of Sebastien's stormy outbursts, the old Marquess sends his son to Eton. Violently bullied by his classmates due to his appearance — dark and gangly, with a huge, beaky nose — Sebastien grows deep-seated insecurities about his body and features. When he is delivered the news of his mother's death, Sebastien pummels one of his bullies to pulp, earning himself a place in the cadre of boys who had abused him.

On his thirteenth birthday, Sebastien's friends take him to a prostitute, who expresses disgust with Sebastien, but nonetheless has sex with him in exchange for money. Because of this, Sebastien takes up an interest in earning coin, starting with intelligent gambling and bets. When his father spitefully informs an older Sebastien that he will be attending Cambridge, not the family's ancestral college at Oxford, Sebastien pays to attend Oxford with his own funds, to spite the old Marquess in return.

During and after Oxford, Sebastien enters the world of commerce and makes smart and successful investments. When his father dies, he is able to bring his inherited estate back from the brink of ruin. Leaving competent people in charge of his entail, Sebastien, now a Marquess known as "Dain," departs for Paris.



In Paris, Jessica Trent, a 27 year-old lady, arrives in the city to rescue her brother from squandering all of his money. Jessica is a viciously intelligent and an impeccably stylish woman. She supports her expensive tastes by purchasing rare antiques and selling them for profit.

Jessica meets Dain in an antique shop, where she buys a miniature painting that Dain had overlooked. Sparks fly between Jessica and Dain, but Dain erupts in flames after the miniature is appraised and found to be a priceless Russian icon. Dain, now obsessed with both the icon and Jessica, offers to buy the piece from her. Jessica refuses, but tells Dain that she'll give him the icon if Dain releases her brother from his profligate influence.

Dain refuses, but exerts his control over Jessica's brother all the more. In the meantime, the war between Jessica and Dain escalates, finding a climax at a society ball, where Dain pulls Jessica aside and kisses her passionately. A group of people walk in on them, however, and Jessica's reputation is doomed. Jessica demands that Dain act with honor in order to restore her own. Dain only replies, "Then shoot me," before walking away.

The next day, Jessica walks up to Dain in public and fires a pistol into his left shoulder, just missing his heart. She then turns herself into the Paris police and hires a lawyer who brings a defamation suit against Dain. Dain is unharmed, except for his left arm, which hangs limp and useless. Instead of being irate with Jessica over his injury and the lawsuit, Dain extends an offer of marriage. Jessica, suspecting that he harbors a sincere desire to marry her, accepts him.

In England, Dain only visits Jessica after many weeks have passed. He gruffly gives her an engagement ring set with a ruby the color of blood, to Jessica's delight. Although he does not behave like a man in love, Jessica intuits that Dain does have soft feelings towards her. However, she is anxious about her sexual inexperience, when she knows Dain to be an infamous whoremonger.

Despite Jessica's trepidation, Dain does not consummate their marriage on their wedding night. Instead, he becomes incapacitated with drink at the inn where they're staying. When they reach Dain's ancestral home on the English moors, he still does not have sex with her. Because he's neither slept with a woman without paying her, nor with a virgin, he is nervous. Although Dain brings Jessica to climax in his library, after she read aloud from Byron's Don Juan, he leaves her "intact."

Some days pass without consummation, and to escape his bride, Dain accepts a friend's invitation to go away to a wrestling match. At the end of her rope, Jessica dons a negligee and incites a furious quarrel with her husband. Provoked, both sexually and emotionally, Dain finally makes love to his wife. To his relief, she enjoys herself. Dain decides to stay with Jessica in the days leading up to the wrestling match, then take her with him to go see the fight.

On the night of the wrestling match, Dain, now having debauched Jessica many times, leaves with her in the middle of the fight to have passionate sex in a darkened graveyard. During the act, Jessica tells Dain that she loves him, which heals Dain's damaged psyche, though he pretends to be unmoved.

On their way back to their carriage, Dain is alarmed to find the prostitute he'd impregnated years ago making a scene with his eight year-old bastard son. Although he tries to hide the confrontation from Jessica, she sees it all. The bastard, a raggedy and foul-mouthed boy named Dominick, runs off.

To Dain's shock, on the carriage ride home, Jessica berates him for not going after his son and claiming him, after seeing his state. Jessica tells Dain that she had helped raise ten of her male relations, and that above all things she understands little boys. Dominick, she insists, needs immediate help before he is psychologically scarred by neglect. However, Dain cannot look upon or think of his bastard without experiencing intense revulsion. Thunderously, he tells Jessica to drop the matter.

Instead of dropping the matter, Jessica finds out as much as she can about Dominick and his mother, Charity. Aided by Dain's footman, Jessica discovers that Dominick and Charity are staying in the village inside Dain's estate. Dain gives Charity fifty pounds per year to take care of Dominick, but Charity uses the money for herself and leaves Dominick to wear rags and run feral. Recently, Charity had tried to put Dominick into school, but Dominick's demonic behavior made an education impossible. Jessica is further dismayed to hear that the schoolchildren informed Dominick that his mother was a whore, that Dominick was a whoreson, and that his noble father didn't want him. Since then, Dominick has been living homeless, apart from his mother, sleeping in one of Dain's outbuildings on the moor.

Meanwhile, matters are strained between Dain and Jessica. After the debacle at the wrestling match, Jessica, irate at Dain's callous behavior towards his son, punishes Dain by being perfectly obedient, placid, and pleasant. However, she no longer tells Dain that she loves him. Though he tries to out-will, out-maneuver, and out-last his wife, Dain is being driven out of his mind longing for Jessica's genuine personality and for her open love.

Matters reach a breaking point when Jessica decides that Dominick must be taken into Dain's home without delay. She tracks down Dominick on the moors, where he is being pursued by his mother. Finally, the two women have their confrontation.

Charity agrees to hand Dominick over to Dain without a fight, but only if Jessica gives Charity the priceless Russian icon — the art piece that had first brought Jessica and Dain together in Paris. The story of the icon has become infamous, especially how Jessica gave Dain the icon freely as a birthday present after their marriage. What no one knows, however, is that Dain has a profound connection with the icon, which depicts the Madonna and Child, because it reminds him of his own lost, dead mother and the complicated feelings he has for her.

But unbeknownst to Jessica, Charity has taken up with a former friend of Dain's, Vawtry, who has spiraled into debt and is trying to use Charity and Dominic to get money out of Dain. Vawtry had heard of the icon, its immense worth, and hopes to get the money for himself.

At this point, Jessica decides that she must come clean to Dain about everything. She explains to Dain that he is able to take Dominick from Charity, because mothers have no legal right to their own children. Jessica tells Dain that he must claim his son and take him in, or Jessica will give the icon to Charity and take care of Dominick herself. Jessica breaks her siege of fake behavior, and tells Dain, from her heart, that the mental wounds keeping Dain from loving his son could take years to heal, but that Dominick can't wait for those years. The boy needs saving without delay.

Dain, fearing the fallout should he not cooperate, agrees that he'll take Dominick from Charity. He tells Jessica he'll go to the stagecoach stop immediately, because he knows Charity will not be acting in line with her agreement with Jessica. Dain is convinced that Charity will be leaving with her cash cow, Dominick, on the next carriage out of town.

Indeed, Dain is correct. Charity and Vawtry plan to remove to London, where they'll have more safety from and leverage against Dain. They also have a contingency plan. If Jessica doesn't bring the icon, or Dain arrives to take Dominick, Vawtry will set one of Dain's outbuildings on fire to distract the estate while he goes into Dain's bedchamber to steal the icon.

To transport Dominick to London, Charity has dosed her son with laudanum. However, the drug has made Dominick very ill. When Dain arrives at the inn where the stagecoaches stop, Charity and Vawtry scatter and accidentally leave Dominick behind.

Dain understands that Dominick is sick from laudanum, because he has an intolerance to the drug, himself. With the footman, Joseph's help, Dain takes care of his vomiting son at the inn, giving him broth and tea, bathing him, and dressing him in the clean clothes that Jessica had put in a care parcel. Miraculously, Dain's left arm, which had been useless since Jessica shot him in Paris, begins to work again.

Dain tells Dominick that his Mama has left, but that he is 'Papa.' He wants Dominick to stay with him, and so does Jessica, his wife. Dain explains to Dominick that Jessica is kind and amazingly understanding, but tolerates no nonsense.

Meanwhile, Vawtry has distracted Dain's house by setting an outbuilding on fire. He sneaks in and takes the icon, but he runs into Jessica on his way out of the house. Vawtry and Jessica have a tremendous struggle, but Jessica gets the upper hand, slamming Vawtry's head repeatedly into the door where Vawtry had tried to exit. Dain, who has just arrived with Dominick, stops Jessica's assault.

Privately, Dain tells Vawtry that he'll pay off his debts, but only if Vawtry marries Charity and keeps her away from himself, Jessica, and Dominick forever.

With Dominick tucked safely away in bed, Jessica tells her husband that she's proud of him and that she loves him. After making love with her, Dain discovers that he's finally able to admit that he loves her, too.

Neither of the Main Characters Were What I Expected

[caption id="attachment_5092" align="alignleft" width="300"] I've never fan-casted before, but Natalie Dormer is the perfect Jessica Trent.[/caption]

Before I read Lord of Scoundrels, I had some expectations about what the characters would be like. I knew Jessica arrives to ask Dain to save her brother from ruin —  and I expected her to be brave, yet trembling with fear, like a sacrificial virgin. But as soon as I heard Jessica's first line of dialogue in the audiobook, I was delighted and shocked to find a heroine I'd never yet encountered in a historical romance.

Jessica is a spinster at 27, but instead of being a dusty old maid with deep longings for love, Jessica is... not that. She turns down proposals left and right, because she's smarter than most and doesn't suffer fools. She's fiercely independent and is in charge of herself. She has penetrative insights and appraisals about people and even objects. She feels deep family loyalty, and has acted on it her entire life. Without any doubt, Jessica Trent is the most fascinating heroine in a historical romance I've ever encountered.



Dain was more expected, except for a few things that Loretta Chase did very differently. For one thing, she gave Dain a whole host of insecurities about his body and appearance. It's always the women characters who feel that they're lacking in this respect, never the males. I can't even tell you how fucking refreshing it was to see a romantic hero have body issues and not the heroine.

Another thing, quite a few "rakes" and "bad boy" characters have sad pasts in books. Dain is no different, but Loretta Chase used an omniscient narrator to explore his damaged psyche. She really digs her nails into his mental state, telling the reader when Dain is deflecting or repressing, or using other such coping mechanisms. That was unusual.

Can We and Should We Try to Change the People We Love?

Imagine a man is a house — a Cape Cod house. He's a little battered, so his woman decides to do some home improvement. Ultimately, she hopes to replace the HVAC, get an open floor-plan... and turn him into stunning Dutch Colonial!

[caption id="attachment_5105" align="alignleft" width="225"] This regency man could pass for Dain.[/caption]

That's the exact thing people scold women against doing.  People shouldn't go into a relationship hoping to change their partner drastically. It's a gamble for one thing — the improvements may never come to pass. If you get involved with a bad person hoping to turn them good, that could be dangerous. Transitioning a person from one state of being to another is the job of a trained therapist. Not you. And in the case of wanting to change an Average Joe into your Dream Man... No. It's absurd to want to change a person into someone they're just not. 

So, is Jessica an idiot for marrying Dain? Well, it depends on if she went into the marriage hoping to change him. Let's look at her reasoning.

Jessica is between a rock and a hard place when it comes to accepting Dain's proposal. But as readers, we know Jess so well. We know that she'd never have married Dain had she not wanted to. Dain tries to block her in, but she'd bust out and do her own thing if she truly desired that. However, she wants to marry Dain. She does so, for these discernible reasons:

• She feels an extremely strong "animal" attraction towards him.


• She knows that Dain desires her, but suspects that he "maybe" feels even more.


• Her grandmother, Genevieve, who Jessica respects and admires, advises her to marry him.


• It's a convenient way to secure her finances and those of her stupid brother.

She does take a gamble that he cares for her, but no text I can find indicates that Jessica went into her marriage hoping to change Dain. But fact is, after the wedding, she starts wanting to heal him. Her hopes begin, I think, as soon as she understands the cause behind Dain's bad behavior — everything that happened with his parents.

Now, Lord of Scoundrels shows that it's a work of fiction because Jessica is so incredibly capable at working her husband over. She is extremely insightful regarding his mental temperature and mental acrobatics. She knows when and how to push his boundaries, and she's mentally strong enough to handle the blowback. Her fortitude is immense. She can multitask being Dain's wife and being his brain-doctor.

A normal, real woman should never be expected to do that.

Can we, and should we, try to change the people we love when they're in trouble?

That is a difficult question to answer. Personally, I think a person is never obligated to help an adult friend or family member when the situation is toxic.

In Lord of Scoundrels, Dain subjects Jessica to behavior that would be emotionally abusive to a more sensitive woman. Loretta Chase shows that Dain knows how far he can push Jess, and he does take care to not cross her boundaries. Even so, he acts a heel. To me, Jessica would have been justified in wiping her hands of Dain.

But, because she's a heroine, Jessica is strong enough to take on Dain's demons and keep herself sane and safe.

Is Lord of Scoundrels Less Romantic For Having a Bastard Son Included?

What's ridiculous is all those historical romances where the hero is enormously experienced sexually and doesn't have any bastards or STDs. Yes, they had sheep-gut condoms back in the day, but come on. 

Genital warts make things less of a fairy-tale, for sure. So does syphilis. In light of that, what's one bastard in the scheme of things? To Jessica, something very, very important.

[caption id="attachment_5110" align="alignleft" width="204"] Finn Wolfhard makes a great Dominick, and here he is wearing a ruffly shirt![/caption]

If Jessica ever feels resentful towards Dain for fathering a bastard son, Loretta Chase doesn't make us aware of it. Jessica's first action is to do everything she can for the boy. She acts with impeccable moral integrity, and something better, too — genuine caring. She kisses Dominick when he's filthy and infested with lice, she fusses over his care package, and arranges for his room to be close to hers and Dain's instead of at the opposite end of the house. It's so, so sweet.

Because of all that, Jessica becomes an even better heroine than how she started out. But how does Dain stand up in comparison?

At first, not good. As a reader, my opinion of Dain plummeted when he treats Dominick with revulsion and neglect. We understand that Dain's mental scar tissue is to partly to blame, but he is still wrong to act the way he does.

I thought Dain's transformation was not handled at the top of Loretta Chase's talent. We needed more of a gradient from the state of his refusing to think about Dominick, to the state of him bathing and spoon-feeding his son. Either that, or we needed a better description of the change-of-heart.



Nonetheless, the moment where Dain's heart cracks open and he accepts his son is moving. He's firm, but tender, and knows instinctually how to behave as a 'Papa.' That is romantic.

You Shouldn't Hesitate In Buying the Audiobook

I bought the audiobook for Lord of Scoundrels, and readers... it was incredible. It's narrated and performed by Kate Reading, who does a sensational job with the material. I was astounded by her skill. Not only is her voice pleasant to listen to, but her nuances and tones made the writing come to life. There were several moments were I laughed out loud, entirely due to Reading's performance. The writing is spectacular on its own, but Reading gave the book something extra through her vocal interpretation.

In particular, she gave the book the dignity it deserves. I mean, the covers for this book are so appallingly bad, and don't do Jessica's genius any credit. But Reading's voice for Jessica is so perfect. Jessica sounds sly and cunning, but can also turn maternal. Reading's entire performance is in that vein, too — she gives the story the credit it needs.

The Bottom Line

I love this book. I looove it. Not only is it a great romance, but it's also a story about families — new ones — and how when the love is strong and unconditional, greatness is made. The indomitable heroine, Jessica Trent, is easily one of my favorite fictional characters of all time. I will read, and listen to, this book again and again.