11 July 2011

In Which Monday Menu Mayhem Reviews a Book.

Remember what I said last time about the apologizing?  Right.

In the way that A Lot Like Love is frothy, fun, sexy nonsense, If His Kiss Is Wicked is delicious, substantial loveliness.

Next time I hesitate about reading a Jo Goodman book, someone bash me vigorously about the head with a sharp object, mmmmmk?

(This is my second Goodman book, if you’ll recall. Last year I read the highly recommended Never Love a Lawman. I’ve been sitting on this one since then for reasons known only to The Goddess of Deciding Which Book to Read)

The place to begin when reviewing books is with the summary. But I have to be honest, I have no idea how to summarize the plot of this book, and I don’t really want to. It’s best when it unfolds before you, because it’s so layered and nuanced, and no summary I could give would do it justice.

What I will talk about, though, is the relationship between the protagonists, Emma and Restell. It is not spoiling anything to say that Emma seeks Restell out for protection, Restell provides it, and their relationship grows from there. Two of their exchanges had me so enthralled that I had to note them.

The first comes when Restell proposes marriage, and Emma questions him on a great number of things, including his logic for making such a proposal and his reasons for not making the same one to her cousin:

“No.” He sipped his tea. “I am not going to propose to your cousin, Emma, so you should not entertain hope on that score.”
“I only suggested it to point out the failure of your reasoning, not because I hoped you would act on it. If we were to marry, you could expect to hear regular reports on your failures of reason. That should give you pause.”
“That depends. Would you apprise me of them at breakfast or dinner?”
“Breakfast, I suspect.”
“Then it presents no problem. I will be reading my paper and am likely to ignore you.”

This exchange, in case you were wondering, is perfection crispy-fried on a stick. Two droll personalities (clearly established), hashing out that most romantic of pursuits in the least romantic way possible. And yet the idea of the contented, real love the picture presents is flawless (after all, who doesn’t know a happily married couple who engages in that sort of behavior?)

The second passage that caught my attention comes after they are married, right after Emma realizes she loves Restell. She comes home and collapses on the chaise with a cold compress over her eyes. That’s where Restell finds her:

“Lady Rivendell announced to your mother, your married sisters, and Marisol that I clearly love you. You will not credit it, Restell, but I am certain she’s right.”
Restell found a space on the chaise where he could sit. He lowered himself somewhat slowly to that spot as he considered his response. “So you came home and prostrated yourself across the chaise. Yes, I can see how that would be the thing to do. The compress makes me think the feeling has not passed.”

Goodman is the master of showing not telling. I mean, look at those passages. Emma wants Restell even at the beginning (note that she does not want him to propose to her cousin), but she never makes any grand declaration. Rather she proceeds cautiously, making sure he has thought everything through.

For his part, Restell questions Emma a bit more on the chaise:

“Does [this newfound feeling] make you afraid?”
“A little.”
“Then I am not the only one. That is good to know.”

So much subtlety! Such depth! I love love love this book. It’s absolutely freaking glorious. Just go read it, OK? I’ll even loan you my copy if you promise to bring it back.

No comments:

Post a Comment