Worth by Adrienne Wilder (December 2011, Dreamspinner Press) combines the genres of m/m erotic romance, fantasy/paranormal, and horror. It may be the strangest book I read in 2011. I referred to it on Twitter as “the cannibalism book.” I received my copy free from Net Galley.
Worth begins with an author’s note that explains the City of Dragons, aka Atlanta. There are two kinds of natural science, physics and metaphysics (energy emitted by kin and Lesser-Breeds), and two kinds of being that have evolved from them, humans and kin. For some reason, kin are called dragons. When humans and kin breed, they produce half-breeds (male offspring of Kin and female human) and Lesser-breeds (Half-breed and human offspring; can be used as Food). Dens are where the kin live, ruled by their Queen Dragon. The Dens are surrounded by walls built by humans to keep the two kinds of beings separated, and the Gray Zone is the lawless, decrepit, uncivilized area surrounding the Wall, inhabited by Lesser-breds and Humans. The Gray Zone books, of which Worth is one, are shorter, m/m and more erotic.
We then get a glossary which is an abbreviated version of the very long one on the author’s website. The author’s tendency to use italics and capitals in place of real worldbuilding interfered with the story. Just like J.R. Ward’s Black Dagger Brotherhood, cosmetic language changes do not new meanings create. Here are some examples of words that did not need to be glossarized, especially for regular readers of any of the genres the author is attempting to combine in this novella:
Alchemy: Magical Science
Blood Rage: Loss of control due to not Feeding.
Feed: The act of taking Blood, Flesh, or Metaphysical energy.
food: Substance that is consumed.
Halvsie: Slang for half-breed
mark or marked: The scar left by a Kin, Male or Female.
Owned: To be under the control/protection of another.
Taste: Flavor.
Whistle: A high pitched sound, made almost exclusively by submissives within a group or white-scales.
I think a skilled writer can communicate the meanings of these words in the usual way.
Please note: The rest of this review deals with adult themes.
Worth is written in the first person point of view of Liam, a twenty something human. His mother died in front of him, leaving him to live in the Grey Zone with his stepfather, Richard, who had “whored her out”, and then proceeded to alternately rape and whore out Liam. Liam agrees to stay and be used in this way by Richard and his drug-addicted, violent, poker playing buddies to keep his young brother Kevin, who is autistic, and his teen brother Chris, safe from Richard’s sexual appetites, if not from his violent outbursts. Oh, and he has a cleft lip and is typically the subject of “disgusted and frightened glances”, and gets beaten up (including knife cuts and burns) a lot by people who are not Richard. And Richard killed his puppy.By the time we meet him he has no sense of inner worth, thinking, “I was cheap … I was good at sucking dick and taking it up the ass.” Hence the title of the novel.
One day Liam is hanging out in a bar, and in walks a good looking Lesser-Bred, dressed, like most of his kind, in “ratty jeans and nothing else.” He strokes himself through his jeans. Liam is instantly attracted. They go out back and have oral sex. The Lesser-Bred, Jericho, can create heat, but his best ability is the metaphysics that “let me take him in without choking him.” The relationship between Liam and Jericho proceeds without conflict or, for this reader, any interesting aspects. Liam learns about Lesser-Breds, but there is almost no character building for Jericho (other than that his scent is “buttered chicken”; for those seeking a respite from “sandalwood”, Jericho is your man) and it’s never clear why he likes Liam. For Liam, it’s clearly so new and so nice to be wanted and treated well, I got the feeling Jericho was interchangeable with absolutely anyone willing to do that for him.
Liam’s motivation is to keep his brothers safe. Besides his lack of self-worth, protectiveness of them is his defining character trait, and his frequent thoughts about the need to keep them safe felt quite repetitive. Chris is a typical teen. Like Liam, he is gay, something Liam doesn’t notice or care about. I found it interesting that there is no default sexual preference in the Gray Zone, or if there is one, it’s not hetero.
The plot involves Liam being offered money to deliver one man back to his family. The man is a Link, which means he is owned by a Human. Dangerous work, which is, of course, closely connected to Jericho.
I was thinking as I read Worth that perhaps PNR is where we find depictions of real poverty — or, perhaps, stereotypical depictions of the underprivileged — in the romance genre. Many aspects of Liam’s world were very familiar — references to Seinfeld, Easy Bake Oven, 911, Tylenol, PopTart, Slim Jims, Mickey D’s s, etc. And many of the characters were kind of stock poor people characters. There’s his mom, smoking a Marlboro red while sitting on the couch, watching TV, dying of a brain aneurism, falling onto a nappy puke-colored carpet as she says, “Baby, you know I love you, right?” Or the mom/prostitute named Jewel who says things like, “Liam, baby, do me a favor, don’t shit on my rug and tell me it’s chocolate”, and “don’t fuck with me cracker boy”, but has a heart of gold and a stash of Disney movies and Froot Loops in her dingy apartment, the perfect place to leave Kevin when necessary.
One line the novella crossed is that it sexualizes cannibalism, something I hadn’t seen before. Humans who are Links feed (and it is always italicized) Kin. Liam thinks, “I couldn’t imagine any Human surviving the kind of damage a dragon could inflict taking flesh and blood.” When Jericho and Liam have sex in the shower, Liam realizes “When my tongue pressed over his palate, I tasted other things. instinct told me it was people: Lesser-Breds. Humans” (again, for those of you sick of heroes tasting like whiskey, coffee or “man”, has Wilder got a new taste for you!). Jericho says, of someone he killed, “I ate him. Well, parts of him”. Liam’s introduction to feeding is eating a bowl of raw meat. He realizes he is changing when he attacks someone and thinks “I couldn’t help but wonder what he’d taste like. How loud he’d scream when I tore him open and ate out the softest parts.” At one point, Jericho takes out a cooler and gives Liam sandwiches that “may have been bologna or some other kind of deli meat…”. Eventually Jericho feeds Liam, and I felt the author pulled her punches a bit, since it read more like a vampire blood sucking than the taking of “meat”, as Jericho described the fleshy inner thigh.
So, this fictional world is a mashup of m/m erotica, romance, paranormal, dystopian, and, obviously, horror. As I read Worth, I wavered between thinking how rare it is for an author to write as dark as this, and thinking, “oh, give me a break”, when yet another awful thing is done to Liam or his brothers. I had a big problem with the feeding, although, the philosopher in me asked whether it’s really logical to enjoy vampire romance but draw the line at flesh. So, while there are definitely some interesting elements in the worldbuilding, and while it’s rare to read a “romance” so thoroughly set in among the urban poor, the problems I had with the romance, characterization, writing (make that Writing), and other shortcuts mean that I won’t be continuing with this series.
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What shall I address first, having never read this book?
Oh man. I totally understand that feeling. It is the feeling you have when you read a Thomas Hardy novel. In any case, it sounds like the problem with this book wasn’t so much that it was dark but that its worldbuilding was chaotic and ragged; its psychology built on a what seems to me to be a problematic concept of poverty and the poor; and, ironically, characters that had not been fleshed out.
Sounds to me that the premise overshadowed everything else?
These aren’t stock characters. The train has passed right by the Stock platform and has reached the Branch Line of Offensive Stereotypes. This sounds more Cracker Barrel stereotyping than real poor people. Just out of curiosity, were there any non-offensive women characters?
I find the cannabilism and your response to it interesting. As you say, it’s not clear why blood feeding would be okay while meat feeding is not, but I suspect I’d have the same reaction.
Well, a fair number of people are blood donors and donating blood doesn’t pose a risk to the donor’s health; it’s unlikely someone could munch your limbs or internal organs without killing you. That seems to me to be a fairly important difference although obviously it does depend on the worldbuilding, since a blood donor could potentially be completely drained and therefore killed, by “blood feeding.”
Hmm could it be because you do not believe in transubstantiation of the Eucharist like those of us who are Catholic?
According to doctrine, when Catholics partake in the Eucharist they consume the real body and blood of Christ–so they are cannibals of a sort. Although I doubt most people think of it in quite such literal terms. But back in the middle ages there were medieval thinkers who insisted on describing in (grotesque) detail what happened when one consumed the transubstantiated Eucharist–for them one was literally crunching upon Christ’s flesh and bones. These guys had no problems following their arguments to their logical (cannibalistic) conclusions because for them there were important religious issues at stake.
There are also medieval saints tales that also walk the line of sexualizing (or perhaps the more accurate word would be eroticizing) images of the saints themselves consuming or feeding from the body of Christ (both his infant and adult body). I wouldn’t call these works comfortable reading, but I think that is part of the point. The images conjured are supposed to be difficult and dangerous. And if at times cannibalistic stories can be used to prove sanctity, at other times they can also be used to defame and destroy outsiders and others (look at the blood libel stories).
But from your review it sounds like one of the problems with the book is that the cannibalism is just there for shock value with little really at stake or no really important reason for it. And it is nagging at me, but I’m pretty sure that I’ve read at least one story that sexualizes cannibalism (or the eating of people) and it was in the last year or so. Perhaps a fantasy novel?
I have read ‘Worth’ and two other stories set in the Gray Zone world and have been thinking about what I took from my reading along with your previous post on under/over reading, Jessica.
One of the problems is the m/m books are slices of events and don’t give as much world building as do the Blood Bonds m/f books. I also think they don’t go for the HEA or even a HFN because the world and social structures are so harsh. There is a lot attempted in the gray zone world building and this seems to leave the ‘why of things’ unclear. But for me there is still something there – when Jericho talks about his buildings and the design in the tiles and how now that he has emerged as a lesser bred he has lost his creativity, I want to know more about that. I am not sure whether this fits as over or under – reading but it is certainly hopeful on my part.
Re the stock types of poverty. I didn’t read that as any worse that a category novel but I also read it as ilustrating that this is a world where no one wins. Showing that humans were only different in their tools and that their use of each other was not different than the way the dragons/kin used each other and humans.
Re the cannibalism. I think there are two types, one is where the kin lose it and eat who ever is around. The other is between themselves and their links and for these the flesh taken is renewed. I have also been thinking about Saint’s bodies and how they were happily carved up a finger bone here, a skull there and in the pieces still remained whole exerting themselves through each part as if they were whole and how death was not a barrier to the Saint’s power to influence.
Hmm. Again, not having read the book, I’m struck by two things in your comment, Sunita. One, I think it would be very interesting to look at the portrayals of women and other minority characters in m/m erotica and erotic romance. Some scholar (not me) ought to do that. And two, just generally there needs to be more of a discussion about the depictions of the poor, women and other minority characters within erotica. I mean, WTF? (eloquent, I know)
Of course, maybe everything just comes down to bad writing? Maybe?
@Lazaraspaste: My off the cuff response on women and minorities would be that minorities are plentiful and often represented with skill and depth. Women, not so much. Women are frequently the villains, or they are homophobic, or they are pathetic/desperate. Not all authors do this, but it’s sufficiently widespread in the m/m genre that there are plenty of discussions about it.
Maybe I overreacted to Jessica’s depiction, and I must stress I haven’t read the book. But I’ve read a lot of category romances, including quite a few with working-class characters, and I don’t remember many depictions of that type. The stereotype screams “trailer trash” or “cracker” to me, not working poor. And unless it’s done in a nuanced and skilful way I’m going to find it offensive. But then I usually spend 3/4 of the year in Missouri, and I’m used to hearing the rural poor described with similar stereotypes (by educated locals and ignorant outsiders). The urban poor aren’t viewed any better, but the epithets are different.
@lazaraspaste:
Curse you for writing a better review than I did, not even having read the damn book!
@Sunita:
Well, yes. Although, when I think of romances set in impoverished circumstances they are sometimes unreal in another way … kind of sanitized. Like Merrian says below (although my examples would not be cats)
There were no other women characters. So, I guess that would be a no.
@Laura Vivanco: That’s true, insofar as it might account for my differing reaction. In the book, the ones who are fed on heal quickly, if they are of the right type.
@Kathryn:
Wait. Are you saying a Catholic reader might have an easier time with the cannibalism? I find that really hard to believe. It doesn’t follow from accepting transubstantiation that other kinds of cannibalism are more acceptable, does it? Or have I misunderstood your point?
In terms of making a more analytical or academic connection between the two, yes, I can see that, and thank you for your points about the saints and their sexuality. Saint Teresa comes to mind.
@Merrian: I knew you had read them and was hoping you would chime in.
Yes, I got the sense these were spin offs. Yet, when I went to the author’s site, I could not for the life of me find the list of books.
I can see this, but the author did invoke some the PNR tropes — the instant, abnormally strong attraction (“whatever this was, this attraction wasn’t normal”) , the fast bond (“like I was missing something, and my body knew he was the only one who had what I needed”), etc., so I definitely read the trajectory of their relationship as a romance with an HFN.
Yes, and this is where I thought the author was doing something unusual (at least in my limited reading experience).
@Lazaraspaste:
The need for this hit me very hard as I read about ten m/m romance in the last month. As Sunita said.
But Sunita, there is an easy way to remedy your situation!
That is how it read to me.
Ha–I knew I should have put a
after that comment. It was supposed to be a bit flippant.
In reality I think that most average (especially North American) Catholic readers would not have an easier time with the cannibalism in book. However Catholicism, itself, is replete with “cannibalistic” images and mutilated bodies, and that iconography, therefore, is part of the fabric of the everyday for an average Catholic even if s/he doesn’t think at all about the relation between cannibalism and the communion wafer.
And this doesn’t mean that if one accepts transubstantiation, then other kinds of cannibalism are more acceptable –in fact other kinds might even become less acceptable. Because those other kinds could be the “wrong” types of cannibalism–they could lead one away from the correct path and instead of purifying or sanctifying one, they drag one into danger. I’m thinking here a kind of Mary Douglas “purity and danger” analysis. You can see the fears about the wrong type of cannibalism not just in the anti-Semitic blood libel stories, but in accounts against some of the “failed” saints. Their visions and stories (including ones about literally feeding on the body of Christ) often are similar to those of accepted saints, but for various reasons the wanna-bees are seen as misguided and sometimes are even condemned as heretics. So their “cannibalistic” images are wrong, heretical, and impure. But there is definitely anxiety at times for church officials since it was not always easy to see who is the saint and who is the heretic.
So my two points were really that within the Catholic culture because of the centrality of Eucharist, positive cannibalistic images/metaphors (including ones that eroticize cannibalism) exist. So to a Catholic (especially this Catholic who studied medieval history) the idea of erotic cannibalistic relations shouldn’t necessarily be too startling or surprising. Point two-the extreme sanctity and importance of Eucharist, however, also guarantees that cannibalism is an extremely dangerous matter (as are most sacred things) as well. So cannibalistic images can be used to promote the real presence in a communion wafer or to control, punish, and condemned community heretics. But always there are important matters at stake: personal salvation, the preservation of community, the importance of both body and soul, the continuation of the body after death even if fragmented, etc.
Okay I’ve now wandered really far from this book and the review and have taken a lot of words to do said wandering. Apologies for that. Here’s my final thought–from your review it sounded like part of the problem with the book is cannibalism is just there and it has no real metaphysical or metaphorical weight to it. So how can it be interesting or erotic?
@Kathryn:
Actually I think there is intended to be a metaphysical weight to the eating of flesh but that hasn’t come out very well in the m/m stories as will as a sense of appalling voilence transgressing norms as being normal. It is awhile since I read Blood Bonds so I will go back and read that to see if there is more to say about this in that narrative arc. I also think it is done deliberately as a way of positioning the dragons/kin as completely and uncompromisingly other. This interests me because I think most vampire and shifter stories cop out on the nature of the other. I am less familiar with the theology but I also came at the books from thinking about medieval art and remember seeing a picture of a stone roodscreen carved with skull and bones that had survived the reformation that any Aztec would have been proud of, that represented the body and death as part of life. You would come to communion with the great weight of this carving literally hanging over you. Aztecs also came to my mind as ‘others’ who use body and blood to commune with their Gods.
Having said all this I think the writing is not as good as the ideas the author has but still want to keep reading
I do take Sunita’s point about cliched and eliding portraits of the poor and poverty and would say that is an ongoing issue in romance with it’s bootstrap billionaires, captains of industry and ducal aristocrats. The poor and being poor is always something to overcome or leave behind and their characteristics are always personal or only systemic if it is evil fostercare system.
I also think that the representation/disappearing of women in m/m is an issue that I really noticed when I read an m/m master/slave story last week and was pleasantly and notably surprised that females were not only mentioned but interacted with and women could be mistresses too. The book stood out for me because of this which then led me to think about why. I am someone who would say I read m/m in part because I believe more in the agency of the characters. In m/f the suspension of belief required of me is greater because I bring my lived experience into the stories. Maybe this leads to the disappearing of women? Yet having said that I want to read m/m that has women as part of the world.
Not. A. Chance. Besides, my TBR is way too tall right now. Yeah, that’s why.
Ah, now I see what you mean. Sorry, Merrian, for misunderstanding your point originally. I think that insensitive stereotypes about the poor offend me (outrage me, really) more these days because the general tenor of society is that they are to blame for all their weaknesses and others are to be congratulated when they overcome them. We don’t need fiction piling on. But I admit, it’s a hot button and I am probably overly sensitive to it at the moment.
@Sunita: I agree and in these times are even more egregious.
I do find it interesting that poverty and marginalisation (mainly lower middle class) appears quite regularly in m/m books, e.g. Amy Lane’s ‘Promise Rock’ books (ignore the incompetent social worker cliche) are stories about people on the margins – not white trash but with a potentially failing business in a post GFC economy that risks losing their home. In these stories family and friendship networks work together to solve problems no one is saved by the wealthy love interest. In KA Mitchell’s Bad Boyfriend, Eli is effectively un-employed and homeless but working on it. Yet I can’t think of similar representations in m/f contemporaries.
@Merrian: I don’t know that owning your own farm/business in California’s Central Valley is really “lower middle class” even if the business is in trouble. What they’re considering is not exactly going on welfare, it’s selling the farm and using their capital to start up a new business elsewhere. And isn’t the reason the business is potentially failing because the owner has been outed as gay in a homophobic community? That is, the threat of business failure (and money problems more generally) is a feature of the fact that it is a m/m romance, not an m/f one. Jeff is pretty solidly middle-class, the dancer-character is a bohemian artist who sort of stands apart from class, and the cop with the huge settlement kind of is a “wealthy love interest” who maybe doesn’t “save” anyone, but at least intervenes in helpful ways not just for his lover, but for the other characters. In Bad Boyfriend, Eli’s lousy economic circumstances are a result of his having been booted out of his family because he’s gay. I thihk the reason we see some portrayals of poor people in contemporary m/m romances (there are plenty where all the characters are quite well off, too) is because the characters and their authors are grappling with homophobia (or exploiting it to dramatic effect), not because there’s any particular interest in depicting poverty and marginalization for its own sake.
@Kathryn:
I should have realized you were half joking. Yes, this makes perfect sense.
I have a lot of experience myself with Catholicism, as least how it is practiced in New England, and, in my experience, the aspects you are discussing are downplayed or completely ignored, for lots of reasons, one of which is anti-Catholic prejudice. So that’s part of the reason your comment surprised me.
Well, it does seem to be significant to feed (in the text it is always “feed“) kind of in the same way drinking blood is usually significant in vampire narratives. It can signify or create a connection. But it is very common and almost anything can constitute a “feeding”, from flesh to blood to “metaphysical energy”, so that may also blunt the power of the act.
@Merrian:
I love this point and think your take on this has been very helpful for me in understanding what the author was going for.
@etv13: Isn’t it interesting how we both read these stories and respond differently to them. I think I come from the ‘anyone can end up on the streets unless they have resources, particularly social networks they can mobilise’ position and so for me being poor is a situation and not just a social class. In Bad Boyfriend Eli’s working hours are cut and because his social networks have been limited by his families rejection he is at risk. I see this risk much more in m/m stories than I do in m/f stories.
@Merrian:
I didn’t think @etv13: was saying anything that would contradict that in her comment. There’s plenty of situational poverty in the US, as well as enduring, trans-generational poverty. But the markers Jessica highlighted in her summary of the book are clear “dog whistle” words. They suggest not just the condition of poverty but convey a normative judgement about the individual’s poverty.
I agree with etv13′s point about depictions of poverty in m/m books. While there are definitely plenty of working-class and near-poor characters and settings, I also find that the poverty angle is utilized for certain type of plot and characterization hooks. In addition to the homophobia explanation, I think we see the poverty risk more because it provides an external source of conflict and reinforces the isolation of the character (and isolation which is then overcome through the romance and HEA).
As for similar representations in contemporaries, the American and SuperRomance lines of Harlequin have plenty of economically and socially average characters. Karen Templeton, Janice Kay Johnson, and a host of other authors have written them. And Kathleen Gilles Seidel wrote some wonderful single-title contemporaries with working-class characters in the 1990s.