This review is spoiler free.
My Take in Brief: A beautifully written, deeply moving story of romantic renewal and moral repair set against the backdrop of a heartstopping journey across northwest India.
Setting: Victorian London and India, 1890s
Heroine and Hero: Bryony Asquith, brittle, socially awkward and emotionally scarred surgeon, and Quentin Marsden, popular, handsome and witty mathematician, playwright, adventurer.
Plot: The novel begins with a prologue, describing the courtship and short marriage of Bryony and Quentin. The first chapter begins with Quentin tracking Bryony down in India to notify her of a family emergency that requires her return to London. Most of the rest of the narrative takes place over the several weeks it takes them to get back to London, in the midst of the bloody Swat Valley Uprising.
Conflict: Something acute happened to cause the end of their marriage, and we find out what it is pretty quickly. But it was the botched handling of that conflict, and the underlying problems it represented, that consume Bryony and Quentin for most of the book.
Word on the Web:
Dear Author, Jennie, A
Everybody Needs a Little Romance, very positive
Dear Author, Jane, B-
Author Courtney Milan, very positive
My Thoughts on Nothing Much At All, very positive
TGTBTU, Lawson, A
Sakura of Doom, Oyceter, negative (you should read this one. She complains about the vanishing of people of color in the book)
A spoiler full but super discussion at Could it Be… Seton?
Fun Factoid: Ms. Thomas on her work in an interview at Romance Bandits:
I think it is not so much heroes and heroines with shared pasts that draw me, but the idea of how do you deal with a relationship that has gone off the rails. How do you recover from that kind of disaster and rebuild? That fascinates me. It goes to the very foundation of what romantic love is. Is it a lesser entity–rising with lust and waning with time–or is it grand and beautiful, capable of the kind of forgiveness, understanding, generosity, and commitment that make life worth living?
I would like to believe the latter so I aspire to it in my books.
Racy Romance Review:
Anyone who is reading this right now has likely already read the Dear Author and TGTBTU reviews, so I’m not going to reinvent the wheel here. I will say that if you liked Thomas’s two other books, Private Arrangements and Delicious, you will like this one, and if those didn’t work for you, I don’t think this one will, either. For my part, I thoroughly enjoyed all three books — they are all keepers for me.
In this review, I want to focus on what makes Thomas different from other historical romances authors I have read, and in ways that push at the boundaries of the genre:
1. Thomas’s writing achieves something remarkable: it evokes the lushness of Ivory or Kinsale while being spare and straightforward. Here’s an example:
She paid the cabbie and stood for a moment outside her house, head up, the palm of her free hand held out to feel for raindrops. The night air smelled of the tang of electricity. Already thunder rumbled. The periphery of the sky lit every few seconds, truant angels playing with lucifer matches.
And another:
From time to time, she would be at the most incidental activity — lacing her boots or reading an article on the adhesion of the intestine to the stump after an ovariotomy — and a physical memory would barrel out of nowhere and mow her down like a runaway carriage … But mostly those upsurges of memory were nothing but ghost pains, nervous misfires from limbs that had long been since amputated.
The writing is not just lovely, it feels fresh and different. Thomas tries to find new and different ways to say the things that must be said in any romance novel. To take just two examples: it’s not “musk” between Bryony’s legs, but “turmeric tang”, Bryony’s hair is not “silky”, but”spread like the cape of Erebus”.
2. Readers of PA and Delicious know that Thomas favors a nonlinear narrative, or, at least nonlinear-lite, aka flashbacks. I like them. I feel they are now a part of the pop culture landscape — certainly well fitted to our multimedia, multitasking lifestyles — and serve as a way to make romance seem less stodgy than it really usually is. Think of Chuck Palaniuk’s Fight Club or Michael Ondaatje’s The English Patient (or heck, Virgina Woolf). Anyone who enjoyed Pulp Fiction, Lock Stock and Two Smoking Barrels, Memento, Magnolia, Run Lola Run, Waking Life, Mulholland Drive, etc. has enjoyed a nonlinear narrative.
I am not saying Thomas uses flashbacks just to do something edgy. A literary argument in favor of nonlinearity says it better reflects the ways our thoughts and memories and feelings actually work. A story that’s about reinterpreting the past and reforging new bonds out of broken ones is served very naturally by flashbacks that connect the present action with the past.
3. Thomas has come to specialize in broken relationships, for reasons the quote above indicates. This is another way in which she is doing something different. Yes, we have other romances which feature a couple who have known each other in the past — maybe they had a one night stand as teens, for example — but it’s not common to find a couple who have known all of the full-blooded adult joy of romantic lovers, only to have it destroyed. This, of course, is what makes her books so heartbreaking to read, and this woman breaks my heart at least 3 times per novel (with the result that the poignant moments are that much sweeter. A favorite in this book is when Bryony notices Quentin at a funeral of one of her family members).
Most romances are about clean slates, in the case of the virgin heroine, the rake who has never known love. Or somehow the romance makes them clean, as in the heroine (or, in paranormal, the hero) who has been abused. I think what Thomas is doing here is different. At one point, Quentin says, “For the thousandth time, he wished he’d just met her.” But he didn’t, and all the muddy water under the bridge of their relationship doesn’t just flow out to sea with their first post-divorce coupling. It’s more like a windy lake they will always be navigating. But without it, they will be run aground. You can’t really begin anew. The past is done. All you can do it try to make new sense of what happened, give it new meaning in the context of the present.
Other books that feature separation often involve Big Misunderstandings. For example, in Judith McNaught”s Paradise, a book I also have on my keeper shelf, it’s the machinations of the heroine’s cruel father that keeps the lovebirds apart. Typically neither the hero nor heroine is truly guilty or truly flawed. Or if there is a flaw, it’s a flaw that somehow contributes to the desirability of the character, like the too-ambitious or too-driven-by-revenge hero. It’s a flaw but it’s also sexy.
In contrast, Thomas’s characters tend to be fully human, and therefore truly flawed. Quentin does something in this book that shocked my socks off. In any other book, a new hero would have been introduced to heal the heroine’s pain, and Quentin would have been given a red card, never to appear again in this novel or the next. Another envelope-pushing move.
Yet, while the event that separates Bryony and Quentin is his doing, the greater journey is taken in this book by the heroine as she comes to see that her own character flaws not only helped pave the way for Quentin’s moral error, but prevented their overcoming it when it happened. I can’t say more here without spoilers, but suffice to say that this book asks us to ponder what we mean when we say marriage vows. Are we vowing to do certain actions and refrain from others, or are we vowing to try to be a certain kind of person for our lover? Bryony is truly unlikable at points in this book. She’s strong but not resilient, intelligent but not wise, educated but ignorant of her own feelings and motivations, at times selfish, vain, and cruel, and, deep down, heartbreakingly vulnerable and dependent. I loved her.
4. Thomas also manages to reverse gender roles in a Victorian romance and make it believable. Quentin is the nurturer, the emotional one, the domestic, while Bryony is the driven, take charge surgeon, the one who masks her feelings with an expression Quentin dubs “the Castle”. In this book, the heroine loves the hero for his beauty, not vice versa. It must be said, as much as everyone hates these terms: if there was ever a beta hero, Quentin is it. Yet he’s never less than totally appealing for this reader, because he is exactly what Bryony needs. And they’re both witty and funny when they want to be. Here’s an exchange near the end:
They are in bed, and Bryony is talking about the penis from a medical point of view — blood flow, arteries, etc.
She batted her eyelashes at him. “Don’t you want to know how I know all this?
“No.”
She laughed again. “Anatomy classes. Muscles and blood vessel diagrams. And dissections.”
Not dissections. He moaned. “I was afraid you’d say that.”
She lovingly wrapped her other hand about him. “I used to think the penis was very boring, tedious, and of no consequence whatsoever.”
“The ignorance of our educated women is absolutely shocking.”
There’s a point that I think all of us reach with some writers, a kind of unconditional enjoyment that leads you to overlook or minimize problems while reading. But writing a review forces your attention on weaknesses. Here they are, in my humble opinion (1) I did think Quentin’s bad behavior was so out of character that it needed something more, from his point of view, to help me fit it in with the otherwise utterly perfect man and husband he was. (2) I would also have liked to better understand Quentin’s love for Bryony in the early days. (3) Bryony’s estrangement from her father and their abrupt reconciliation did not resonate with me as I suspect they were supposed to.
Thomas was thinking about the movie The Painted Veil while writing this, and I was thinking of The English Patient while I read it. So much of what caused them problems was London society, that it made sense to put them in a foreign land. Bryony and Quentin faced mortal peril on their journey (in case you are wondering, Thomas can write some great action scenes. I was truly terrified for the h/h during one of them in particular) – but they had to in order to be jarred out of their estrangement.
As Quentin says at one point, “in that crucible, everything between him and Bryony had been distilled to the very essence: Only love had mattered, nothing else.” This book makes you believe it.
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#1 by Maya M. on June 5, 2009 - 9:00 pm
I am so much looking forward to wallowing in this book. I am very much the sort of reader you refer to – once I reach a certain level of happiness with a book, then I will very easily let go of little bits and pieces that would niggle at me in a book I enjoyed less. Works the other way around, too; once I’ve reached a certain level of unhappiness with a book, I tend to accumulate more and more ‘evidence’ of why it’s not my cup of tea as the page count climbs.
But, books set in India – how I love them (when written well and inclusive of Indians).
#2 by AnimeJune on June 6, 2009 - 10:37 am
I’m actually thinking of reading this one, when I get the time/money.
I tried Private Arrangements and while nothing turned me off with the novel (and I liked the heroine for the most part), I just didn’t “click.” I still have no idea why, so I might want to try “Not Quite A Husband” to give Thomas another shot.
#3 by Sunita on June 6, 2009 - 12:22 pm
Jessica, I agree that the writing is lush in the manner of Ivory. But how is it spare and straightforward? When I think of spare, I think of someone like Marilynne Robinson or James Salter. There’s no economy of language in Thomas that I can tell, but rather a great love of adverbs, adjectives, metaphors, and similes. I haven’t read NQAH yet. When I read Private Arrangements I would occasionally be stopped cold by the beauty of a phrase, but more often I was muttering Kill Your Darlings. I’d love to hear more of your take on this, especially since you’re way more knowledgeable about these matters than I.
And I should add that what for me is excess is necessary and proper for other readers; I see this as a taste issue, not a quality issue. But I was thrown by your description of her writing as spare and straightforward.
#4 by Janine on June 6, 2009 - 3:01 pm
I was a bit bemused by this discussion because not only is Sherry Chinese American, her husband is Indian American and she has relatives in India (not where the book is set though — that is Pakistan now). Her children are half Indian.
I’m dead certain the use of the word “coolies” is merely reflective of the English characters’ viewpoints and the attitudes that were held in the 1890s. It is absolutley not reflective of the way Sherry feels about people of color — she is one herself.
The discussion made me all the more aware that sometimes authors are damned if they do, and damned if they don’t. If you want to avoid the pitfall of being historicaly inaccurate, you run the risk of offending someone because your characters have 19th century attitudes. If an author who isn’t white gets this kind of flak, is it any wonder that so many white authors only write about white characters?
#5 by Jessica on June 6, 2009 - 3:28 pm
Janine wrote:
Janine,
I agree with you on the use of a term like “coolies”. It must be used if it is what the English characters would have used.
The part of the referenced discussion I thought interesting was
“this is set in India, starring white people. We all know how this goes, yes? I don’t know if it’s good or bad that there are no speaking Indian parts. I hate that non-white people are erased and made into dangerous rebels or lackeys, and yet, I am fairly sure if they did get a larger role, it would be made of fail.”
This view is very pessimistic, but I cannot say such pessimism is totally unjustified about the genre as a whole. Would you disagree?
The issue of Thomas’s identity and how that is connected to what she chooses to write or not write is interesting and very complex. Thank you for enlightening us a bit on that.
#6 by Aoife on June 6, 2009 - 4:18 pm
I’ve just started NQaH and am appreciating the lovely prose, just as I did with PA and Delicious. However, I am noticing something that bothered me a lot with Delicious, and has already becoming an issue with this book: I’m struggling a bit with my willing suspension of disbelief. Bryony being a doctor in British India during this time period just bothers me. There’s a big “but, but, but” hovering somewhere in the back of my mind, and I can’t totally silence it when I know in what low regard women doctors were still held at this time period. And I can’t help wondering how much more difficult it would have been in India, where the status of women was not particularly good at that point in time. Did this bother anyone else, or am I just being nitpicky?
#7 by Janine on June 6, 2009 - 5:05 pm
In reference to Sherry’s writing specifically, it is easy for me to disagree. Having read her unpublished martial arts epic, Heart of Blade, which had a half-Chinese heroine and several Chinese secondary characters, I feel that her non-white characters are anything but “made of fail.”
With regard to the genre as a whole, I am hesitant to make a categoric statement. There is no doubt that minorities are under- represented, but as I said above, I completely undertand why authors might be hesitant to write about non-white characters. I can certainly think of books that portray minorities stereotypically (some sheikh romances for example), but there are also books that don’t do so (Nalini Singh’s books, for example, have very diverse casts in which non-whites are given significant and positive roles). I would love to see more characters with diverse backgrounds in the romance genre and less stereotyping than there is, but I also think things are slowly changing for the better.
#8 by Jessica on June 6, 2009 - 7:34 pm
Aoife wrote:
I talked about this a little in my other post on NQAH. Every one of these things happened: there were women surgeons, there were British women travelers in India, there were annulments, and there were Reniassance men like Quentin. None of that requires suspension of disbelief.
The suspension is required, for me at least, in the idea that all of these things coincide in one couple’s story. I was able to get over it, but it’s one of those things where different readers set the bar differently.
Janine wrote:
Janine, we can definitely agree on that.
#9 by Aoife on June 6, 2009 - 10:04 pm
@ Jessica:
Intellectually I know that all those things happened at least once, and could, theoretically at least, coincide. Perhaps if I hadn’t had problems with some of the plot developments in Delicious I wouldn’t have been sensitized to Bryony’s profession and situation in NQaH. The fact that I am bothered by it interests me because I read books all the time that are not as well written, have unlikely events, but I’m more willing to go along for the ride. Perhaps because Thomas is such a good writer the little bumps of disbelief are more noteiceable to me.
#10 by KristieJ on June 6, 2009 - 11:11 pm
I’ve read such great things about this book and I want it SO bad but I’m holding out for Washington DC as she will be there. So far that is.
#11 by Sunita on June 7, 2009 - 10:50 am
I finished this in one sitting, and I really enjoyed it. Sherry Thomas has the amazing gift of being able to create a difficult-to-like character that the reader becomes very attached to and understands, and it’s all done without obvious manoeuvring, if that makes sense. Also, I find the combination of detachment + emotional wallop unusual and really compelling (maybe that’s what is meant by straightforward?).
On the context: I wasn’t bothered by the use of the word coolie, it seemed appropriate to the context. And I haven’t experienced it as a “scare quote” word in the Indian context, although I’d never use it in US or UK settings, or to directly address someone.
I think it’s a fair comment to say that the Indians and India provide a background rather than being important characters in their own right (the physical setting is clearly a character, but that’s something else). I think the only Indian who has lines to speak of is Ranjit Singh (and I wouldn’t have chosen that name for a minor character). OTOH, *none* of the other characters in India are important other than for context. It’s a road romance, and everyone else is superfluous to the developing relationship between the h&h. If you start saying that contexts are off limits unless the minor characters are fully realized and developed, then you’re tying authors’ hands far beyond what is fair.
There were a few instances where I felt a wrong note, but nothing that seriously jarred me out of the reading experience. Definitely a book to be reread and savored; I tore through it on this reading because I wanted to find out what happened!
#12 by Aoife on June 7, 2009 - 6:42 pm
I just finished NQaH. Without hesitation I’ll say that it is my favorite book of the three. By the time I was a third of the way through I was completely immersed in the story, and all the little quibbles I had had at the beginning were not gone exactly, but fairly irrelevant. I’m going to go a little against the trend, though, and say that I really loved Bryony. I didn’t find her cold at all, just wounded and defensive. Thomas did a wonderful job laying the psychological and emotional underpinnings for why Bryony is the way she is. I felt as though I understood her, and why she had made the choices she had.
There were a few little things that I noticed towards the end of the book that seemed a little too neat, in too short an amount of time, but by that time I was so totally on board that I didn’t care.
Sherry Thomas gets better with every book.
#13 by Jessica on June 8, 2009 - 7:37 am
Sunita wrote:
Sunita,
These are great points. I haven’t been able to answer your excellent question as to why I called Thomas’s writing straightforward and spare (I have no degree in literature, not even an undergrad minor!). I guess because that’s how it feels to me — economical in some way — like the Lucifer angels quote above, in 4 words she conveys a very complex piece of imagery. Also she invests very basic common things like hand gestures and posture with a lot of meaning.
I understand your point about how difficult it would be for authors to fully develop developing world characters. When I raise issues like that, it’s not because I am trying to prevent someone from doing something, but because I am curious to hear about how other readers experience the books I read. That is all.
Aoife wrote:
Aoife,
For me, too, it was a slight favorite over PA and D, and I agree Thomas gets better with each book.
I also agree that some of the issues at the end, especially with Bryony’s family, were resolves a bit too quickly or conveniently.
So glad you read it and liked it!
AnimeJune wrote:
NQAH is much less choppy than PA. It flows better. But the feel is similar. I hope you try it!
#14 by Sunita on June 8, 2009 - 11:30 am
Jessica, thanks, I see what you mean now. I fixate on the metaphors/adjectives/adverbs and find them lush, and in doing so I miss that they are really compact and to the point. I think Thomas is more like Marilynne Robinson than I realized.
I definitely agree that we should think hard about how we portray developing countries and the people in them and be very careful not to use them to exoticize the ordinary or as window dressing. I was responding more to oyceter’s comments (which I appreciate your linking to) and trying to think about what common ground might be. I think it’s hard to find at the moment, and arguments like RaceFail make it more difficult.
I’ve always found the “classic” romance novels set in India problematic, because they hinge on the half-European Indian, or the white heroine discovering the Orient, or something similar, rather than the experiences of the majority of the people. But lots of readers love these books, and I can see why: the authors tell a great story. Today you get much less of that sort of novel (Blood Moon Over Bengal notwithstanding) but it’s still difficult to write about life in a 19th century Asian or African colony without going all White Mischief or Bollywood. Authors like Sherry Thomas and Meredith Duran are infinitely more sensitive to the topic, but it’s still really difficult to depict that era on its own terms (rather than through 20th or 21st century eyes). I love reading the results of their efforts, though; even where I disagree with how they do it, I feel enlightened by it.
And I didn’t say this before, but thanks for the great review! It made me read the book sooner rather than later, and Delicious just moved way up in the TBR.
#15 by Janine on June 8, 2009 - 3:33 pm
I just want to clarify that I too was responding to Oyceter’s comments rather than yours, Jessica, and I don’t have any problem with your linking to those comments, either.
I thought of responding over there, but as I have never posted there in the past, I didn’t feel it would be appropriate to descend on people who didn’t know me with my disagreement.
Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything, but I had all these thoughts swirling in my head and I wanted to expresss them, so I posted here.
I reallly enjoyed your review, Jessica (Sorry I neglected to say that before). I always find your reviews thoughtful. You named a lot of the things I love about Sherry’s writing too.
#16 by Jessica on June 8, 2009 - 8:40 pm
KristieJ wrote:
I am jealous jealous jealous! Promise you will take a picture!!
Sunita wrote:
Ah Racefail. Sometimes more talk is not better. I appreciate your comments, with which I wholeheartedly agree.
Janine wrote:
I am glad you did! I haven’t totally jumped into this because I feel (and I know without asking you that you agree) that no one writer, regardless of her racial or ethnic background, should serve as an example or carry the burden which a whole genre and its readers and marketers share. I know I invited discussion of the issue by posting the link, but in my heart of hearts I would like to do a more general post on this topic so no one author appears to be getting singled out.
Glad you enjoyed the review! I certainly loved the book.
#17 by Kaetrin on June 9, 2009 - 2:46 am
I can’t wait to read this book! I love love love stories set in India and I really enjoyed the Painted Veil – well most of it anyway, it had a totally sucky ending….
#18 by Janine on June 10, 2009 - 7:12 pm
Yes, I do agree. Your comment puts me in mind of my college freshman English class, in which I was the only female student. It was me and 19 guys. The professor (also male) taught the whole class of the Norton Anthology of Literature by Women, and asked us to examine gender issues in our papers and our discussions. Though I enjoyed the class, it was a strange experience. The guys would express their thoughts and then everyone would turn to me, as though my opinions were representative of all womankind. I felt very self-conscious there.
With regard to writing, I think consciousness can be a good thing, up to a point, but I also know that it’sdifficult to write a book that represents all of one’s good intentions with regard to social and political issues in the genre. The way to produce a good book is to ask what serves the story, not necessarily what serves an agenda. Sometimes the two coincide, and that can be wonderful, but sometimes they do not, and the results can still be a good book, if the writer puts that which serves the story ahead of that which serves an agenda (however noble that agenda might be).
ETA: I’m looking forward to your more general post, Jessica.