(no subject)
Nov. 28th, 2011 03:44 pmSo I wound up being given this really stupid Mills & Boon paperback for free on Saturday, a 'contemporary' romance from about 2005. I'll state right off that most M&B paperbacks are unqualified shit and you get a better quality of literature reading good fanfic for free, but sometimes if they happen into my sphere I'll skim them cause they make me laugh (especially the vintage ones. Woah, nelly.) But so anyway, this book... "At The French Baron's Bidding". Beyond the painfully facepalm-worthy title I think it's probably the only M&B I've stumbled across that's made me give it a proper side-eye and force me to stop and re-read something just to make sure I actually did read what I just read.
Cause... blimey.
It's a bit, uh... rape-y, isn't it?
Clearly not intentionally, these things work on a formula a dead dog could draw out in its sleep, but I'm not sure whether I'm more amazed at the astonishing inability to convey the cheesy old trope of "I shall say I don't want you to kiss me, but I REALLY WANT YOU TO KISS ME YOU SEXY BEAST!" or actually properly horrified that the editor did not point out at any time "So, you know that bit where they're in the car and he suddenly starts sticking his tongue down her throat and groping all over her tits like it's his due and she tells him to stop and he doesn't and then she gets upset about it and then he gropes her some more until she gives in? You know that's like, uh... sexual assult, right?"
...and this has happened like 4 times in the first half a dozen chapters. Holy moly the consent!fail. I mean, I understand what the author was trying to convey... the old "Rationally I know getting involved with you is a bad idea but, oh, the sexy hormones, I don't want to want you, but I do, so take me while I give cursoy lip-service to being ashamed of my carnal nature..." but yeah, that's kind of not what came out. What actually came out was "Rationally I know this is a bad idea but, oh, you're an arrogant domineering bastard and I don't like you, but you're sort of charming from time to time, AAAGH stop touching me, I did not consent to being given that orgasm, I hate you but apparently my body will respond regardless."
Which is... hm... not quite the same thing.
So, resultantly, her hero's like the most unqualified, domineering asshole ever. It's amazing. So far he's made out with her against her wishes four times, stalked her twice, and threatened her with unspecified harm for thinking about a business transaction he doesn't approve of.
Seriously, I'm wishing for the dippily weak-willed and inexplicably fluffy heroine to up sticks and go back to her unspecified cardboard-cutout humanitarian job in Africa (I really wish I was making that up) just for her own safety because he's such a pompous twat he'd probably be too freaked out by the insects to follow her.
And I'm also thinking, more realistically, that if you worked for a humanitarian charity in an equally unspecified but very deprived part of Africa, surely the nature of the job would involve you having a fairly thick skin, a pretty high tollerence for adverse conditions and some serious grit to cope with the cultural differences. How do you manage to deal with that, yet not have enough spine to give a creepy French dude a massive slap in the face? It's like she's got 'victim' tattooed across her forehead and any attempt at having a personality was dropped in favour of swooning over some molesting git in a castle, it's bizarre.
Oh and also there's a ghost that just made a random appearance. And she may be the reincarnation of her own great-great grandmother.
I kind of wish I knew what the author had been smoking when this was written. I mean I've written some crack in my time but this is just... woah.
Seriously, unless this book ends with the Baron being properly broken and humbled a-la Rochester by something the heroine did, I'm chalking any happy ending up to Stockholm syndrome.
Cause... blimey.
It's a bit, uh... rape-y, isn't it?
Clearly not intentionally, these things work on a formula a dead dog could draw out in its sleep, but I'm not sure whether I'm more amazed at the astonishing inability to convey the cheesy old trope of "I shall say I don't want you to kiss me, but I REALLY WANT YOU TO KISS ME YOU SEXY BEAST!" or actually properly horrified that the editor did not point out at any time "So, you know that bit where they're in the car and he suddenly starts sticking his tongue down her throat and groping all over her tits like it's his due and she tells him to stop and he doesn't and then she gets upset about it and then he gropes her some more until she gives in? You know that's like, uh... sexual assult, right?"
...and this has happened like 4 times in the first half a dozen chapters. Holy moly the consent!fail. I mean, I understand what the author was trying to convey... the old "Rationally I know getting involved with you is a bad idea but, oh, the sexy hormones, I don't want to want you, but I do, so take me while I give cursoy lip-service to being ashamed of my carnal nature..." but yeah, that's kind of not what came out. What actually came out was "Rationally I know this is a bad idea but, oh, you're an arrogant domineering bastard and I don't like you, but you're sort of charming from time to time, AAAGH stop touching me, I did not consent to being given that orgasm, I hate you but apparently my body will respond regardless."
Which is... hm... not quite the same thing.
So, resultantly, her hero's like the most unqualified, domineering asshole ever. It's amazing. So far he's made out with her against her wishes four times, stalked her twice, and threatened her with unspecified harm for thinking about a business transaction he doesn't approve of.
Seriously, I'm wishing for the dippily weak-willed and inexplicably fluffy heroine to up sticks and go back to her unspecified cardboard-cutout humanitarian job in Africa (I really wish I was making that up) just for her own safety because he's such a pompous twat he'd probably be too freaked out by the insects to follow her.
And I'm also thinking, more realistically, that if you worked for a humanitarian charity in an equally unspecified but very deprived part of Africa, surely the nature of the job would involve you having a fairly thick skin, a pretty high tollerence for adverse conditions and some serious grit to cope with the cultural differences. How do you manage to deal with that, yet not have enough spine to give a creepy French dude a massive slap in the face? It's like she's got 'victim' tattooed across her forehead and any attempt at having a personality was dropped in favour of swooning over some molesting git in a castle, it's bizarre.
Oh and also there's a ghost that just made a random appearance. And she may be the reincarnation of her own great-great grandmother.
I kind of wish I knew what the author had been smoking when this was written. I mean I've written some crack in my time but this is just... woah.
Seriously, unless this book ends with the Baron being properly broken and humbled a-la Rochester by something the heroine did, I'm chalking any happy ending up to Stockholm syndrome.