This is a debut novel from an author who has gotten a lot of buzz, thanks in part to her popular novella in a Christmas anthology. It’s the story of Jenny Keeble, a woman of uncertain and unhappy origins — she doesn’t know who her parents are, but someone sent her to a boarding school where she was treated badly — who has made a career for herself as Madame Esmerelda, a fortune teller, and Gareth Carhart, the humorless Marquess of Blakely. Jenny and Gareth are brought together by his young cousin, Ned, who suffers from what today we would call depression, and who has relied on Jenny’s predictions of his future happiness to get through dark times. Gareth, a man of science, hopes to discredit her. He agrees to allow her to try to prove herself, knowing she’ll fail. At the same time, he finds himself attracted to Jenny almost immediately.
I appreciated the uniqueness of this story, the romance across socio-economic positions, and the sensitive treatment of Ned’s mental illness. There were some very touching and funny scenes, like when Gareth tries to be “just one of the guys” for a moment with his man of business, or when he sings a song of his own creation in public. I also appreciated it very much that the author didn’t resolve the mystery of Jenny’s origins by making her a duchess or something equally convenient.
Overall, though, I didn’t enjoy this one as much as I hoped.
I think if I had to put it down to one thing, it would be that the book seems kind of permeated with a very modern psychology. Jenny and Gareth psychoanalyze themselves and each other with 21st century precision, and this had the effect of creating a kind of clinical distance for me as a reader from the characters and the action. In lit review speak, I guess it’s a variety of “telling not showing”.
For example, Jenny doesn’t have to figure out why she went into a life of deception as Madame Esmerelda: she tells the reader point blank that
She’d known since she was a very small child that she stood alone against the world. That had brought her to this career — the sure knowledge that nobody would help her, and everyone would lie to her. Lying to them instead had only seemed fair play.
And Gareth:
He’d left London eleven years ago because polite society nearly suffocated him. It was the rigor of scientific thought, the clarity of observation, the control he gained over the universe as his understanding bloomed, that kept some vital part of himself in motion since his return.
And later,
What had started as awkwardness and isolation had soon become superiority and a fierce reclusiveness.
Jenny says life coach things to Gareth like “You see, there is nothing on this earth so powerful as a lie that can come true.”
And Gareth, this cold scientific man, suddenly starts saying things like, “I need someone who can look at a man and move him to become more. I can’t do it alone.”
I was jarred at several points by specific things that didn’t work for me. For example, Jenny and Gareth butt heads on their first meeting. So why, when he shows up at night at her door, does she open it and allow him to mack on her? We are told that “something vitally feminine deep inside her chest insisted she stay” and then a few paragraphs later, we are reminded that, “everything warm and womanly in Jenny welled up” but it wasn’t enough for me to believe in her reaction, because the reader has been given no indication that Jenny finds Gareth attractive. Would she have responded that way if the local rat catcher or butcher showed up? (Also, as an aside, there is no “seduction” in this book. Gareth and Jenny have sex early and often. but I’ve long since stopped trying to use covers or titles to clue me in to anything.)
To take another example, Ned believes in Madame Esmerelda, a gypsy fortune teller, with the voluminous skirts and and scarves and incense. So why doesn’t he bat an eye when she attends a ball with him and Gareth, and knows exactly how to comport herself?
Gareth complains constantly that “the specter of his title robbed everything good and convivial from his life”. We are told that Gareth feels at odds with English society, but in scenes where he is in it, he seems totally at ease and in command. I guess he just didn’t gel for me as a character, having so many overlapping explanations for why he was the way he was: was it shyness? A hyper-rational mind? Childhood trauma? Rejection of the superficiality of English society? The burdens of wealth and privilege? I had a pretty hard time sympathizing with the last one, although luckily Jenny did too, saying at one point (way too late for my tastes) “Do listen to yourself, Gareth. Poor Gareth — forced to be a marquess.”
The writing wasn’t lovely enough to distract me from the things that didn’t work. For example this is the kind of line I personally felt did not do a service to the story: “Pleasure propagated down his stiff cock and out his groin.”
I will work myself up into something if I keep going, and then this review won’t reflect the fact that I did, overall, enjoy the book, mainly for the uniqueness of the story, so I’ll stop here and suggest you check out the following positive reviews:
All About Romance, B-
Azteclady at Karen Knows Best, 8 out of 10
Babbling About Books, B+
Book Pushers, 5 stars
Dear Author, B+
Mrs. Giggles, 83
Smexy Books, B+
Except for JMC, who had reservations.
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#1 by RfP on January 23, 2010 - 12:37 pm
I have a similar problem with Jo Goodman, and like you, what bothers me is not only the anachronism. If characters talk about themselves endlessly, they’d better be much more interesting than people who do that in real life.
In Goodman’s case there’s lots in her writing to admire, but so much psychoanalysis (as well as in such a modern manner) that I feel the actual story comes to a stop. Meriam and I once posted a lengthy back-and-forth on a Goodman’s If His Kiss Is Wicked; you’ll find the relevant bits if you search the page for “psych”.
#2 by jmc on January 23, 2010 - 6:41 pm
Oh, thank you for the reminder about the midnight visit. I’d forgotten about it by the time I posted about Proof, but as I read, it was a real WTF moment. The welling womanliness and propagating pleasure were odd language choices; I dog-eared several pages for things like that, but enjoyed the writing still.
Proof is another book that was written smoothly enough to keep me reading, but not well enough for me to actually care about the HEA ultimately. That has happened for me with several new, highly touted and well-reviewed authors, so I’m assuming the fault lies with me as a reader (or in my reading tastes) . :shrug:
#3 by willaful on January 23, 2010 - 7:19 pm
Aw man, I hate that kind of thing (it’s the main reason Mary Jo Putney drives me nuts) and i just ordered this book today. On the other hand, I love Jo Goodman, so perhaps this author will work for me.
I just finished Thw Wives of Bowie Stone, which was wonderful in many ways, but I kept thinking the hero sounded too much like Dr. Phil.
#4 by katiebabs on January 23, 2010 - 9:07 pm
Interesting take Jessica. I read it more as two very stubborn and independent who analyze things because they have been on their own for so long and don’t want to let the other take care of them.
I really enjoyed Courtney’s writing, even if there were cases of telling, not showing and look forward to her future work.
As always, love your reviews.
#5 by Jessica on January 24, 2010 - 7:18 am
@RfP: @willaful: I can’t say I have noticed it in the few Putneys or Goodman’s I have read. I guess it is just one more aspect of the fact that historical romances are fantasies, and in the subgenre, writers and readers expect certain liberties to be taken (often literally, LOL!).
@jmc: I think you and I had exactly the same reaction to this book. and I agree that a lot of my “meh” attitude was personal.
@katiebabs: I agree that they were both strong, stubborn people, and I did like the kind of mirroring the author was going for: they both had tough childhoods, and they both created hard shell personas to cover up vulnerability.
As for reading another book by this author, I am interested in Ned, and if the reviews are good, I may well read his story.
#6 by Meri on January 25, 2010 - 2:20 pm
I kind of figured Proof was Ned’s story – yes, it’s just an abbreviated secondary romance, but I haven’t seen any indication that he’ll be getting his own book.
#7 by Sherry Thomas on January 25, 2010 - 6:43 pm
@Meri:
Ned’s story is slated for fall 2010, I believe. It’s called TRIAL BY DESIRE.
#8 by AnimeJune on January 26, 2010 - 11:21 am
I rather liked this novel – again, I had much the same problems as you did (I didn’t buy that Jenny would fall immediately for Gareth despite the awful things he says to her), but I really liked Gareth and how completely ridiculous he is doing social things. I let my own social skills wither in a similar way in highschool, so maybe my personal empathy influences my take on the book.
Not as good as her novella, though. But it’s pretty good for a debut. She can only get better!
#9 by Niveau on January 29, 2010 - 12:29 am
I have to say, regarding Gareth and his social skills, I think he has Asperger’s. I have Asperger’s, and I felt like I was reading about myself, a feeling I did not get while reading another recent book which was touted as featuring an Aspie hero. I thought Milan handled that aspect perfectly, and if you want to read a book about how someone with Asperger’s thinks, this is the one I would recommend. (And I rather think this is why I liked the book so much.)
#10 by willaful on January 29, 2010 - 12:54 am
I think I asked in another thread if someone thought he was supposed to be an Aspie and they thought not; I’m curious to see what I think. (My son has AS and I have an adult friend with it… and scored pretty high on the test myself. I didn’t see a lot that really spoke to me in that other book either.)
#11 by Jessica on January 29, 2010 - 6:58 am
@Niveau: @willaful: Gareth with Asperger’s? I had never considered this.
Your comments make me wonder where the line is between “socially awkward” and a clinical diagnosis of Asperger’s.
#12 by willaful on January 29, 2010 - 1:30 pm
Jessica: here is the actual diagnostic criteria:
http://www.autreat.com/dsm4-aspergers.html
However there’s a vast variety of other “symptoms” or associated behaviors, and this list doesn’t address the fact that people can change and develop over time.
#13 by willaful on January 30, 2010 - 11:23 am
BTW, while listening to Emma recently, I realized that Mr. Wodehouse is a just about perfect depiction of someone with autism and lower intelligence. His strict adherence to routines and anxiety without them, his perseverating and circular conversations, the way anything new is bad but can become good if it’s familiar… no one would want to promote him as the latest autistic hero ’cause he’s not sexy, but a scholar could make a very good case.
I’ve always found it odd that Emma is so endlessly patient with him, but then, she’s also fond of the none-too-bright Harriet.
#14 by Jessica on January 30, 2010 - 3:18 pm
@willaful: Thank you willaful! And I had never considered that about Wodehouse. Our PBS is running the new Emma starting this Sunday. Planning to watch it, and will be thinking about your points as I do.
#15 by willaful on January 30, 2010 - 4:10 pm
I’m really curious as to whether he was based on someone she knew, it’s such a thorough portrayal.
D’oh, and it’s Woodhouse, isn’t it. I am a fan of t’other.
#16 by willaful on January 30, 2010 - 4:14 pm
Heh. I just found a timeline of his character, which begins with this line: “Mr. Woodhouse stays at home.”
That makes my point right there.
#17 by Niveau on January 31, 2010 - 1:05 am
I actually read Proof because a close friend of mine, who also has Asperger’s, read me the scene in which Jenny explains how other people need to be touched sometimes to Gareth. That alone convinced me that he was like me, but the rest of the book just intensified the feeling.
Said friend emailed Ms. Milan about it, and, though she wouldn’t tell me the details of the email, said that Ms. Milan confirmed that Gareth is indeed supposed to have Asperger’s. I’ve been wondering why that fact wasn’t mentioned in any of the promo that I’ve seen for the book, because I think it might really have altered reader perceptions of Gareth.
Re: the line: the main problem I had with that other book was that its hero was so horribly, horribly bad at the social stuff. It took many, many more years than it should have for me to be diagnosed. I visited five psychiatrists over those years who missed it completely, even when they saw–and commented on–some very typical Aspie behaviours, and this was after Asperger’s recognized in the DSM. But I didn’t display all of them at once and covered decently in between, so even professionals didn’t put it together. Of course, it’s harder to diagnose in girls, but you can still hide it for years.
In my personal experience, I’ve found that the longer we go undiagnosed, the better we become at creating coping mechanisms for ourselves. And even when diagnosed at a young age, we seem get better and better at learning how to blend in over the years. (That being said, all my Aspie friends have above-average IQs, which probably helps. But I recall reading that most Aspies do.) The people I know who have Asperger’s and has been coping on their own for a long time don’t really seem too socially awkward. Most of the time, they seem pretty normal, if a bit too reserved or not reserved enough. There’s just something about them, though, and I can’t describe it, but it’s like they don’t entirely fit. It’s not as obvious as social awkwardness, even though there may be moments of that, and more of a feeling that doesn’t even always become obvious until you spend a lot of time with them.
I could go on and on and on about this, or about how the maternal aspect of Jenny’s relationship with Gareth was absolutely perfect, but it’s late and I’m too interested in this to stop myself if I start. In brief: willaful, I hope you enjoy Proof as much as I did. It really helped ease my frustration over that other book. (And the fact that so many people in blogland seem to think it’s such a good portrayal! Arg!)
#18 by willaful on January 31, 2010 - 1:52 pm
Perhaps Milan did not want wish to appear to be jumping on a bandwagon? I’ve already seen grousing about “oh, everybody’s autistic these days.” Whereas I feel a bit like a memoir I read once by a black man, who wrote about how everyone in his neighborhood would gather to watch even the smallest appearance of anyone black on television. Probably the very unsatisfyingness of the portrayals just added to the need to see more.
#19 by Jessica on February 2, 2010 - 7:17 am
@Niveau: Thank you for sharing, both what you know about the author’s intentions for the character, and your own experience.
I am, perhaps culpably, ignorant about Asperger’s. Does diagnosis lead to treatment? I confess I have no idea. even if there aren’t ways to manage symptoms, it sounds from your comments that just having the diagnosis is significant in itself.
I will have to go back and see if you commented on Tumperkin’s and my review of Lord Ian. I would be curious to know how why that portrayal didn’t work for you.
@willaful: Are two books a bandwagon? Sheesh.
I guess it is curious why Milan hasn’t been upfront about it in interviews, the way Ashley (I think?) was. Maybe it’s the bandwagon thing … or maybe she or her publisher worried it would turn potential readers off? (although how anyone could think that given the wild, enduring success of this h/h dynamic and the embrace of books with heroes who have health-related struggles) or maybe it’s that no one would have identified it when the book was set, so it’s just like the many instances of PTSD or depression or anxiety in historical romances, where the author describes symptoms but never makes a diagnosis, either in the text or in interviews about the book?
#20 by willaful on February 2, 2010 - 3:46 pm
I’m coincidentally reading another book with a possible Aspie character – this time the heroine. Chasing Stanley by Deirdre Martin. Her “official” issue is social anxiety, but she has many Aspie traits – relates much more to animals than people, gets obsessive/goes overboard about her interests, tries to decipher the rules of social interaction. I just read a scene in which she’s trying to read the expression on her ex’s face and manages it by pretending he’s a dog. That just screams Aspie to me.
#21 by willaful on March 9, 2010 - 9:12 am
@Jessica:
Having read the book now — which I didn’t much like, incidentally — I really see your point here, Jessica. No matter what the author’s intent, I don’t see anything in the text that would make Gareth “diagnosable.” Perhaps she did intend a very subtle portrayal of a very high-functioning person with Aspergers, but I would certainly not have advertised it as such, either.
Being incurably curious however, now I’m wondering if Ned is intended to be manic-depressive, rather than just depressed.
There is one mention of his feelings when not depressed as being *extremely* happy… I don’t remember the exact wording now.