REVIEW: Think of England by K.J. Charles
Dear K.J. Charles:
Damn it, why didn’t I think of this book? (And have the willpower to write it, and the talent to make it good, and the tenacity to get it published…) For someone like me who grew up reading many popular English writers, it is such a clever treat — not parody or satire, but the use of familiar archetypes in a deliciously new way.
The main characters are instantly recognizable if you’ve read Georgette Heyer’s mysteries, or Agatha Christie’s early books, or P.G. Wodehouse, or Dorothy Sayers. The story is told from the point of view of Archie Curtis, the quintessential English gentleman/soldier — brave, athletic, scrupulously polite, self-effacing, and deliberately non-intellectual. (But somewhat less hidebound and bigoted than his peers, because of his well-traveled uncle.) Curtis is at a house party to secretly investigate his host, who’s suspected of sabotaging a batch of guns that blew off much of Curtis’s right hand, and killed and wounded many of his fellow soldiers in the Boer war. It’s a noble cause, but he’s utterly disgusted by his role:
The selection of yellow-back novels included a wide ranges of mysteries and romps by Edgar Wallace and E. Phillips Oppenheim, all packed with gentleman spies, mysterious foreigners and sultry seductresses. Curtis enjoyed that sort of thing, but he couldn’t make himself fancy the idea today. The actual life of a gentleman spy, it seemed to him, consisted of sneaking about, breaking the rules of hospitality and generally being anything but a gentleman, and the only mysterious foreigner around was da Silva. He was probably the closest thing Peakholme had to offer to a sultry seductress, come to that.
Da Silva would be the villain if this were an Oppenheim story. Curtis wished he was the villain now.
Daniel Da Silva is also instantly familiar — a sinuous, effete poet with a biting wit, the type of man that the ladies find terribly amusing, and that men of Archie’s class immediately classify as a “pansy” and a “dago.” (If they become aware that he’s also Jewish, even nastier words come into play.) He would indeed be the villain in most books, but Heyer had the brilliance to make a similar character into a hero once, and Charles also pulls it off beautifully. As you would hope, both men move beyond not-all-that-likable stereotypes to become complex, multifaceted characters, as they form an alliance to solve the mystery and begin to have feelings for each other.
The mood of the book never falters. As is typical of a English house-party story, the opening is a little slow, confusingly introducing a great many characters. But things speed up and heat up quickly, with some nail-biting suspense and scorching sex scenes. (The heat coming more from intensity than graphic writing.) Okay, we wouldn’t get sex in Heyer or Christie, but I still relished the familiar feel. There are even several bold and clever women characters — the ones who would be Tuppence to Archie’s Tommy in het romance — who may not be romance heroines but are certainly heroic.
The main characters really make the story, though. Curtis is adorably confused as he tries to rationalize away his attraction to da Silva:
All his previous encounters had been with chaps like himself: soldiers, sportsmen, good fellows. He had an unformed but definite idea that being queer entailed doing something different, womanish, something like the rouged men in those London clubs. Like da Silva, with his perfectly shaped brows and tight trousers and mannerisms.
Curtis wasn’t like that. He simply didn’t feel queer, whatever that might feel like. He felt like a normal chap who, now and then, enjoyed encounters with other chaps, that was all.
Yet he continues to fixate on da Silva’s hair, eyebrows, mouth, and utterly scandalous nipple ring (I have no idea whether this is plausible or not, but it’s certainly possible) until, near the end, he is captivated by seeing him in wire-rimmed spectacles. And readers everywhere swoon.
Since he has no idea how to proceed as a queer chap, Curtis’s efforts to form an actual relationship with da Silva are laden with awkward charm and some angst-filled misunderstandings. Daniel has his own, painful, expectations of men of Archie’s type, so he also has to learn to see beyond his learned prejudices.
We don’t see da Silva’s point of view, but his personality comes through clearly. His mannerisms and waspish wit are the coping mechanism of a sensitive and clever man who faces constant prejudice. (The wrong ethnicity, religion, sexual orientation and class — he gets it from all sides. When Curtis asks him how he puts up with nasty comments, he replies, “I’m terribly rude, in situations where people can’t hit me.”) I loved him for his humor, his irresistible smarts and competence, and the vulnerability that comes from his imaginative nature. Curtis also becomes more attractive seen through his eyes — comfortingly large, strong, considerate, and reliable. In another swoon-worthy moment Daniel tells him, “I never knew the most arousing sight in the world was a big man reading poetry.”
I don’t subscribe to the “two dicks are better than one” theory of loving m/m romance, but how cool is it to find two of my favorite kinds of hero in one story? It’s especially appealing because we so rarely get to see the suave, ultra-confident sort of hero in a vulnerable place; in het romance, it’s part of his mystique that he always be right and always be in charge. I adore that kind of hero, but since I just wanted to pick Daniel up and comfort him, it was vicariously satisfying to have Curtis do it for me.
I should note that some racial/anti-semitic slurs are used; they’re integral to the setting and don’t reflect badly on the heroes. There’s also brief but somewhat shocking violence, and a scene that could be triggering for anyone sensitive about physical coercion.
The ending leaves terrific potential for a sequel here, or even a series. I hope we’ll get another book — a story for the awesome women characters also wouldn’t go amiss — and that I’ll read it with the same delighted smile on my face. A
(Many thanks to the twitter friends who buddy-read this with me and gave me new insights.)
AmazonBNKoboAREBook DepositoryGoogle
This is one of the best books I read all year. I loved it!
Oh, I loved that book so much! It’s one of the best historicals I’ve read in a long time and one of my favorite books of 2014. The two heroes were wonderfully drawn. I particularly enjoyed the humor that was sprinkled throughout the book and that often was a direct result of the way the story was told, from Archie’s POV. Take his thoughts on Daniel’s poetry: “There were vivid images, but they were extraordinary ones, not poetic at all in the way Curtis vaguely felt poetry should be, with trumpets or mountains or daffodils.” :-)
And while many of their misunderstandings are indeed angst-filled and are cause for several dark moments, the way the two men talk their way through them is so often simply adorable (and sweet and humorous – at least for the reader), as when Archie grumbles, “It seems quite straightforward to me” – and Daniel replies, “Unfortunately, my dear, you are so straightforward I sometimes have trouble understanding a word you say.” (Awwww!)
It’s such a fantastic novel!
This sounds like a great book so I clicked on the Amazon link. I think the link is wrong – I was sent to a book called “What is Crime? – Controversies over the Nature of Crime and What to Do about It” by Stuart Henry and Mark M. Lanier – Kindle price $29.62. Luckily the book I want is only $3.44 – much better for my budget. Thanks for the heads up on the K. J. Charles book.
It’s especially appealing because we so rarely get to see the suave, ultra-confident sort of hero in a vulnerable place; in het romance, it’s part of his mystique that he always be right and always be in charge.
This summarizes why I prefer the relationship dynamics that are possible (though not always achieved) in m/m to most of m/f. It baffles me why the suave, ultra-confident hero can’t be vulnerable in m/f; if he can’t because it won’t sell (something I think is questionable and based on assumptions), people should stop trying to sell the genre (as opposed to a handful of books written in it) as progressive.
I am not as big a fan of Charles’ A Charm of Magpies series as others are (nothing against it, it’s just not as much my cup of tea as others), but I am a big fan of Golden Age mysteries, opposites attracting each other, and non-traditional men. It looks like I need to get this book.
YES, yes, YES! I couldn’t quite believe how good this book was. I finished it, and just stared at my e-reader in disbelief. Thanks for writing about it so eloquently.
Sorry; I used the wrong HTML for italics and they didn’t come out. That first paragraph is from Willaful’s review.
I really enjoyed this too. I thought the body count was pretty high for a romance, but it still worked for me.
I imagined Archie as a smarter Bertie Wooster and Daniel as a nicer, Jewish Oscar Wilde and I just loved this book. You explained the appeal much better than I could.
Archie trying to woo Daniel was just adorable. And I’d love a sequel or two – especially one featuring the women.
wantwantwantwantWANT…
But I am on strict embargo for new books until I get through my enormous stack of review ARCs.
but waaaaaaannnt…
Sold! I’ve been meaning to check this one out, since I adore the Magpie books, but your review did the trick! Thanks.
Fantastic review and I really loved this one too.
Gorgeous review of a gorgeous book.
Sold.
Of course.
Brilliant review Twitter friend! *hugs*
PS- That quote about the poetry makes want to cry, it’s so beautiful. You know it’s my favorite scene! The best thing about this book, aside from the exquisite prose and the deep characterizations, it that it’s SO romantic. I found myself comparing the romantic tension in Think of England to those quiet but powerful moments in Pride and Prejuidice that have stayed with me throughout the years. The romance in Think of England is so effective it sweeps you past- “this is a m/m romance” to “oh, this is so beautiful, two people falling in love.” Which, when it comes right down to it, is the reason we all read romance, right?
PPS- And I’m saying it again, for the bazillionth time, Think of England is the best romance of 2014!
One of my favorite books this year. I’m sad that I missed the Twitter buddy-read.
@andrea2: That’s so weird… sometimes if I made a typo the link goes wonky, but I can’t think of any reason it would in this case. Unless it’s that I used periods after the initials and the author doesn’t. Glad you found the book anyway. :-)
@pamelia: I’m going to start them next month, another twitter buddy read.
@hapax: Relax and read your arcs… it will still be there! Unless you’re fed to the teeth with arcs, and should just read whatever the hell you want. ;-)
@Vi: Magpie Lord 12/1!
Wonderful review of one of the best books of the year. I loved the premise — that Archie was related to the chap in King Solomon’s Mine — and the tone was perfect for that genre of book. But it is so much more than that. An excellent story, complex but believable characters, humour, dialogue — just brilliant.
I just want to add that I loved the pacing of the romance. The story takes place over a short amount of time and they fall for each other relatively quickly, but it doesn’t feel too fast at all. Because we see them glare and flirt and change their minds about the other. I’m a big fan of sexual tension and flirting in romance and this really delivered. I loved the poetry reading scene. And the collar stud scene. And I could go on.
I got the wrong Amazon link too when I clicked on the button. But sounds like a great book! Will track it down.
@Keziah Hill: The links are created automatically, and can easily go wrong. In this case, I think it’s because I put the initial periods in. I’ll have to remember to do it exactly as listed next time.
@Willaful: The amazon link is taking me to the wrong place as well. I think it’s because it is searching in “Books” but this is only available from Amazon as a Kindle book.
Love this book and lovely review BTW. Exactly how I feel about getting to see characters be vulnerable to each other.
For those having trouble with the Amazon link, just remover the author’s name from the search there, and it will bring up the right book.
BOUGHT.
I’ve been wanting to try KJ Charles. Maybe this is where I should start. What grade would you give this book, Willaful?
She gave it an A. It’s the last thing in the review before the thanks in brackets.
@Janine – I think it’s a good one to start with.
@Janine: Do it, do it, do it! It’s a wonderful place to start. :-)
And then you can read the Magpies and the free stories on Smashwords. (This is what I did over the past month: read all of KJ Charles’s backlist and was kinda grumpy when I had no more books to read. Pre-ordered next books. Checked release date. Checked release date again. And again. And…)
@HJ: Thank you. I don’t know how I missed it!
@Marianne McA & @Sandra Schwab: Thanks guys! I bought it and I’m looking forward to reading it.
All the links dont work! But I want to buy it!
I read this yesterday and I’m afraid I don’t quite agree with this. Yes, the slurs are integral to the setting, but Archie uses them in ways that don’t reflect well on him, especially at the beginning, and I wasn’t convinced by the end of the book that his overall attitudes toward minorities had changed, just that he was now in love with one and seeing him differently, as an individual. In addition, Archie’s attitudes were relatively unexamined, just what he had grown up with, so that made them more palatable, but I’m still not convinced he really gets it.
I understand that KJ Charles was trying to do a contemporary, less offensive, m/m romance version of an early 20thC adventure novel, but I don’t think she quite managed to overcome the very high hurdle of that era’s anti-semitism and eugenics-based racism. I found parts of this quite uncomfortable to read.
@Sunita – thanks for commenting. I had a feeling reading all the squeeing comments (mine included) that there had to be other opinions.
I also felt that Archie’s initial opinions of Daniel didn’t make him look good at all, and they made me uncomfortable. As did some of Archie’s stories of Africa. I ended up liking Archie and the story so much that my enjoyment swept me past my discomfort, but I can see how it might not work for every reader.
I haven’t read this yet, so can’t comment on this particular story.
I have difficulty reading historical fiction that has been too modernized. I know plots like ‘secret babies’ and unplanned pregnancies, etc. are out of vogue right now, but the problem is that these were real issues back in the day, and I find a book more compelling & believable when such things cause conflict and stress within the story and possibly the relationship instead of everyone knowing everything there is to know about birth control and never stressing over it, and there never being an unwanted pregnancy.
The same goes with other attitudes. I may enjoy the story and characters, but when everyone is socially aware, and has attitudes that fit in the 21st Century, I feel like I’m reading a fantasy rather than historical fiction.
But I’m a white chick and it’s not my people and heritage being insulted, and I am also very aware of that. It’s a real quandary for me.
I read this a month or so back and enjoyed it a lot for the reasons you mention about tying into similar mystery books in that setting. And yes, Randall, Heyer’s version of this hero in ‘Behold, Here’s Poison’ was a real subversion of the typical hero.
“What a weird-looking room!” she remarked. “Like some of Guy’s efforts.”
“My God!” said Randall in a failing voice. “My poor, ignorant child, have you no discrimination?”
“I don’t like rooms to be affected,” replied Stella. “I call this damned affected.”
Randall said lovingly, “Shall I now tell you what I think of that hat you’re wearing, my precious?’
I find Charles’ books to be gloriously readable and hot when needed and one of those authors whose talent I’m wistfully envious over. I would love a sequel with these two because Curtis still has a lot of growing to do.
I don’t mind his attitudes at the start of the book because they’re in character for a man like him, prejudices inherited with his position in society, reinforced by his education, peers, and religion. That he can step away from the box he’s been forced into and make up his own mind is encouraging. I don’t expect a character living close to a century ago to be as open-minded and tolerant as a contemporary hero would need to be to be sympathetic. I do want to see signs of change, though, and I think we did see that here, or the start of it at least. The book covers a very short span of time, after all.
@Sunita: I can certainly understand your pov. I do think Archie does start examining his views — primarily around what it mean to be queer, but I can extrapolate it to other things.
I debated whether to comment at all, but I finally decided that I would because of the possibility that there would be other readers who would have similar reactions to mine. I know that Janine, for example, has expressed her discomfort with reading anti-Semitic language and attitudes in books written years ago, let alone books written today. I don’t know if this will push her buttons the way it did mine, but I wanted her and others to have a heads-up that it was a possibility.
@Sunita: Of course you should comment!
I definitely understand that, Sunita. I think when it’s clear that the attitudes are shared by the author that I have problems. There’s a fine balance for a contemporary author who wants their characters to be decent and likable but also not a total anachronism to the them they’re living in, and I think in general you can sense that, and the stories can show growth in those directions.
Reading an original first-edition Nancy Drew and its handful of racist bits was so distasteful to me that I decided not to keep the book. But I think it could be written with the same situations and yet nuanced in such a way that it was ‘of its time’ but not delivered as Truth.
I’m probably not making sense.
@Patricia Burroughs [aka pooks]: You make perfect sense, and that’s how I felt about this. I’m pretty uncomfortable with the casual anti-semitism in Heyer and Sayers. I don’t think it was at all casual here, but a deliberate, negative expression of the times. (I didn’t go into this in detail, but Archie is carefully constructed to have a background allowing him to be more broadminded in this area.)
But it’s perfectly valid for someone else to be more bothered by it or to feel that not enough was done to mitigate it.
@Sunita: I just saw your comment and I really appreciate it. I actually felt a little trepidation at the thought of reading the book when I read that part of Willaful’s review (racial slurs can be tough to read even when only villains are using them), but all the enthusiasm here changed my mind. I returned the book for a refund, though I still want to try this author. Maybe I’ll start with the sample and see if it’s enough to make me want to re-purchase.
I read this book and thought its execution pretty on target in its depiction of prejudice. It wasn’t jarring to me because that’s how people were then (and some, right now). I want to put it out there before I proceed that as an African-American female, I’ve seen a few recent historical romances with AA heroines and White heroes, set during American time periods where I KNOW from real history that the pairing would have had an ice cube’s chance in Hell of surviving. They may have been able to pull it off if they wanted to continue the appearance of the master/slave dynamic, but how healthy to a true love relationship would that have been? I have tried to read romances with the same pairing in later times and have encountered stories so devoid of historical truth about what the duo would have had to face, that I’ve DNF’ed them. To me these whimsies are being written to simply display an IR couple having sex thought of as taboo. So, if an historical romance is going to have pairings that aren’t traditional, I expect ,and want, to see the conflicts that they will endure. Not so as it is the focus of the book, but m/m, IR of any kind set in tense racial times better address it. If it doesn’t, it’s fantasy at best, fetishization at worse.
@Janine: It really depends on how the particular terms strike you, I think. I found the repeated use of “dago” difficult to take because I mentally read it as the short version of “Dago Jew,” which was a slur used to describe English Sephardic Jews. If you don’t reflexively internalize it as a slur, then you may not find it as jarring.
I also think that if you find Archie appealing as a hero the book will work better for you. To me he represented a certain kind of British gentry-soldier type of that era, one I don’t find heroic or sexy, and I’m sure that made a difference, because we spend most (all?) of the book in his head.
ETA: The word is used to refer to his Portuguese background without specific inclusion of his religion in some places (Archie forgets Daniel is Jewish, for example, but mentally calls him a dago a few times), and in one instances it’s used alongside (and therefore distinct from) a Jewish slur (the only specifically Jewish slur and it is spoken by a villain). But in other places it seemed to cover both ancestry and religion, at least that’s how I interpreted it. Either way, I found reading “dago” over and over again uncomfortable, no matter how historically accurate it is.
@Sunita: Ah — that’s something I didn’t know. The way I’ve always seen it used, it seemed like a general shorthand for anyone appearing not-English.
@Willaful: I think there are some small differences in UK and US usage, although there is a lot of overlap too. In the UK it was mostly Spanish, Portuguese, and then Italians. Basically “swarthy” Europeans.
@Sunita: I wasn’t familiar with the “dago Jew” slur. Thanks for explaining this. I’m not sure how I’d feel– it may depend on the frequency with which the slur is used.
@P. J. Dean: I can understand your viewpoint on this. I remember having a similar discussion with a reader when I reviewed Sherri L. Smith’s Flygirl, a YA about an African-American young woman who passes for white in order to fly planes as part of the Women’s Auxiliary Service Pilots and make a difference in World WarII.
The heroine of the book develops some feelings for a white military man and he for her, but (SPOILER) she never confides her secret in him. The book ends with her decision to write him after the war is over and explain why she withdrew from their relationship, then leave it to him to decide if he wants to resume their connection. It’s left open ended, but the reader I talked with felt it was a copout, and that the author should have made the breakup clearer. I also couldn’t see a happy ending for this couple, but I didn’t feel that was a copout because the ending wasn’t a HEA. I think that if it had been, I would have felt very skeptical.
For me what I think could make reading the slurs and bigotry extra painful is knowing that Daniel, the Jewish character, will twenty or thirty years later live to see millions of Jews killed as a result of attitudes like Curtis’s. If the book was set at another time in history, I might feel differently.
@Janine: To clarify, Curtis himself is *not* anti-semitic and strongly disapproves of anti-semitism. As I mentioned in a comment earlier, he was given a background specifically to make it plausible that he wouldn’t be, unlike the other men of his background.
@Willaful: I’m having a hard time reconciling his use of racial slurs with a lack of bigotry. Or do you mean that he’s bigoted in other ways but not anti-Semitic?
@Willaful: Yes, that’s how I saw it too.
I finished the book last weekend and I’ve just finished writing up my review. What is so interesting to me is that I’ve talked about a whole pile of different things than you did! As I was writing my review I realised that there are so many layers to this book which makes it endlessly fascinating to me.
@Sunita: FWIW, over here “dago” means (usually) Italian – it can also mean Greek and other darker skinned Europeans but it was never associated with religion. It’s not a term I use now and it’s not something I’m proud to admit I said as a child growing up – it was a typical slur in the schoolyard – “wogs and dagos” were common names. It wasn’t just children using those terms – the kids learned it from their parents. There was a huge influx of European immigrants after WWII and (I believe) the animus came from the competition for jobs etc in a difficult economy. (Not that it’s in any way an excuse of course, because it totally isn’t.) “Wogs” at least is a term which has been reclaimed by the Italian/Greek community – there was a comedy show on TV in the 80s (90s?) called Acropolis Now and it was a self-parody of all the stereotypes and “Wogs out of Work” was a stage show put on by Italian and Greek Australian comedians. I guess it’s the same as how “queer” has been reclaimed by the queer community? Maybe?
Anyway, I saw “Dago Jew” as 2 slurs, not one. If that makes sense.
Of course, that’s not to say you don’t have a perfect right to feel uncomfortable about it. The words have a different meaning to you and of course you will read them that way. Also, I am a clueless white privileged person who has never had a racial slur used against me so I know my level of sensitivity there is much lower than those with a different experience.
@Janine: FWIW, I think Archie doesn’t spend a lot of time thinking. Up until their 2nd sexual encounter, Archie had never given any real thought to his own sexuality. By the end of the book, quite a few things he accepted in others or himself were cast in a different light and he *had* thought about them and come to a different view. His history (which I thought the author was clever to give him as a reasonable explanation for it for the times) makes his change believable.
That said, I think he has a lot more to think about that he has not yet considered. Apart from the very last chapter (or was it the epilogue? I can’t remember now) the book itself covers a period of less than 2 weeks. And the entire book was less than a month. I’d expect that Archie will have loads of self-examination to do if future books are released featuring Archie and Daniel. Daniel is not the type of person who will let Archie get away with lazy thinking. I didn’t see Archie as anti-Semitic but I did see him accepting of (and guilty of) a certain level of bigotry which reduced over the course of the book. However, given the time span, he’s got more to do. In fact, I think the series potential is there precisely because of that.
@Sunita: Also, I’m really glad you commented because: clueless white person. I hadn’t given those things much thought at all (see previous).
@Janine – Archie is prejudiced against Daniel for appearing foreign, and for his queerness and Bloomsbury intellectual-ness, but not really his religion. As Willaful says, it’s mentioned that he was raised by his explorer uncle to not disrespect other religions and he never says or thinks anything anti-Semitic.
He immediately dislikes and judges Daniel for his mannerisms and general non-Britishness, and thinks of him as a pansy and maybe a dago. (And then he reads his poetry).
@cleo – wish I could edit that to say that Archie “never says or thinks anything OVERTLY anti-Semitic”. I do think one could interpret his concerns about Daniel’s “foreignness” to include his religion, as well as his family’s country of origin, but it’s not overt.
@Kaetrin: I always think it’s so interesting how that happens. I’ll read a review of Jessica’s, or Jackie’s, and they’ve touched on completely different aspects than I did.
You make a good point about the short time period. It’s very much a beginning story… not incomplete, not needing a sequel, but describing the start of things.
@cleo: I think that pretty much sums it up.
@willaful: Yes, what you said. :)
@Kaetrin: Gotcha and thank you!
@cleo: Thanks. Anti-Semitism is about ethnicity as well as religion (take the big nose stereotype frex). If that hadn’t been the case, those Jews who converted to Christianity would have been safe from the Nazis, when in fact they were not. And as Sunita noted, eugenics-driven racism was not uncommon in Europe during this time. It was certainly applied to Jews.
I liked this book too. Everything worked out for me in general, but the last scene really got me and just keeping that image in my head is worth all the pages before because the HEA happens and all is right in the world.
I agree with Janine that ethnicity and religion are intertwined in anti-Semitism. The text separates Daniel’s “foreignness” from his Jewish faith, but Jews were considered foreigners in Britain no matter how long they had been there (notwithstanding Disraeli and the Rothschilds), so for me that’s a distinction without a difference. Anti-Semitism didn’t limit itself to condemning Jewish religious practices, but condemned Jews more comprehensively. I was really surprised that Daniel was portrayed as unwilling and unable to handle a gun (especially given he’s a secret agent), because the “cowardly Jew” stereotype was also flourishing then. I understand the plot usefulness of doing that, but it made me flinch. This guy is a great agent but he makes himself a target? I assume we’ll find out in future installments why he has this attitude, but in this story it plays into the stereotypes of the era, much as the excessive pomade he uses plays into the “greasy Jew” slur. Archie only uses a little pomade, and in the final scene Daniel’s hair is oil-free. The “real” Daniel wouldn’t use a lot of pomade, I guess, but what exactly is the text signaling with that?
People have remarked on the similarities with Christie and Heyer, and I see those, but what this book is really channeling is John Buchan. Archie is straight out of the Buchan/Hannay stable, with his “Victorian soul,” his belief in an unambiguous code of honor, and his soldier’s view of the world. And Charles notes in a blog post that the next installment is riffing off Greenmantle. There’s a lot of debate about whether Buchan’s novels were anti-Semitic, but whichever side you come down on, there are stereotypes galore in those books, and many of them make uncomfortable reading today, at least for someone like me. Perhaps the point of the series (beyond updating the 20thC adventure novel) is to show Archie’s growth from Empire Cheerleader to Nuanced Human, which is worthwhile, especially if you haven’t read much of that sort of thing before, or if you’re particularly attached to Archie and Daniel.
So, could someone verify whether this borders on the “other” trope that’s common in m/f romances?
What I mean by “other” is that a lead character will fall for someone either because they’re fixated on how different that person is from what they are usually attracted to. Sometimes the object of their affection is described in terms that border on that person being uncomfortably exotic or forbidden, and that can be a rush for a lead character.
I haven’t read the book, but from the review this is Archie’s journey and how he sees things, since the review comes right out and states that da Silva’s viewpoint isn’t shown.
Also from the review, da Silva seems to have traits that go along with “othering.” By framing the narrative solely from Archie’s point of view, I wonder if for some readers, Archie’s flaws don’t readily appear negative, because the reader has bonded with the character, if that makes sense. Of course, skillful writing can also help, but I wonder, if Archie had exhibited sexist tendencies (which were prevalent during this time period) would this have been more of a problem for some readers?
But then, that brings up the question on how is it that Archie’s so different from the characters who are in his circle of friends? Is there something in the book that explains his willingness to break from the norm?
Sorry to ask so many questions, I’m still on the fence about picking up the book, even after reading the look inside feature. However, after reviewing my post, I think I’ll have to pick it up to see if the answers I seek are addressed.
@Janine – this has been such an interesting conversation. I fell somewhere between Willaful and Sunita in my impression of Archie’s attitudes – maybe slightly closer to Sunita, because Willaful’s assertion that Archie was not at all anti-Semitic surprised me more than Sunita’s assertion that he kind of was. And I had to go back to the text to figure out why there was such a big range of interpretations. And I think it comes down to how one reads Daniel’s “foreignness” and how broadly one defines anti-Semitism.
@wikkidsexycool – I think Daniel is definitely presented as an other, and he is definitely different from Archie’s usual type. Archie’s drawn to Daniel almost against his will (another common romance trope) – there’s some “I hate you but I want to touch your hair” type stuff.
There is a reason in the story why Archie is a little more open minded than his peers. He was raised by one of his uncles, who was a famous explorer and who raised him to be respectful of other religions and cultures (at least by Victorian standards of respect). Plus, over the course of the story Archie slowly realizes and accepts that he’s queer, that he’s always been queer, but he just didn’t realize it before. And that internal realization kind of opens the door to other realizations about the world.
I have to warn you about the portrayal of Africa and Africans in this – it’s not a big part of the book, but I think it could offend or annoy you. Archie’s uncle explored Africa 25 years earlier and Archie tells one story of his uncle’s travels – I found it a bit gruesome and uncomfortable. I believe that story is taken from a Victorian novel (KJ Charles credits it at the front of the book). Archie also fought in South Africa in the Bohr War and while I don’t remember him doing or saying anything overtly racist, he is an Englishman in So Africa who doesn’t question their right to be there or rule there.
Ymmv.
@Janine:
This is why Jo Rowling caught flack for her descriptions of Severus Snape.
The descriptions of everything–including the nose–easily fell into the historical stereotype for ‘evil Jew,’ which probably wasn’t her intent. She may have fallen into the trap of using a common villain’s trope/stereotype and description simply because that was her first book she’d ever written and it was imprinted on her subconscious without the accompanying bigger picture of its historical roots.
@wikkidsexycool: “By framing the narrative solely from Archie’s point of view, I wonder if for some readers, Archie’s flaws don’t readily appear negative, because the reader has bonded with the character, if that makes sense. ”
I’d say that a significant number of other reviews I’ve read have pointed out how unlikable Archie seems at first.
@willaful:
I didn’t find him unlikeable but that is just my own subjective pov.
If Darcy hadn’t been allowed to be so very much a man of his time and not only appear arrogant, but also voice the very real prejudices of his day, we wouldn’t have had the huge emotional journey of watching the layers of the onion peel away. I don’t mind when a character begins negatively.
It’s not where you start, it’s where you finish.
This has been an issue with my writing and beta-notes on my current Regency fantasy trilogy, where my heroine starts out young, protected, inexperienced and reflects the common Regency tropes of living within her own world, having little exposure beyond it, and little opportunity to learn beyond those limitations. So yes, her earliest view of the world is narrow, and she’s a prickly kind of bluestocking who tends to pass judgment. Gut as the author, I love setting my characters up for a fall. I know what’s coming and want to make the most of the dramatic opportunity.
I’m only on the fourth chapter of Think of England, but it sounds like Archie’s growth is more subtle. I need to get my words written for today so I can finish it!
@cleo: I freely admit I know virtually nothing about anti-Semitism in real life. I mean, I know about WWII and I know it exists but it’s not something that has touched my daily life. I don’t think there is a large Jewish population where I live. I don’t remember meeting any Jewish kids in my neighbourhood or at my school. Most (if not all) of the Jewish people I know are online. Where I grew up “greasy” was Italian or Greek and nothing to do with religion. (It was still awful of course, no excuses.)
I’m appreciating the comments because these words don’t mean the same thing to me and it’s useful to understand what they mean to others.
Regarding Africa – I’m no expert there and I don’t particularly want to defend the book’s representations because I’m sure I miss stuff all the time. I do recall Archie thinking about the Boers thus:
I read that as Archie respected the other side in the war but I’m hoping someone will point out if that’s not right/problematic.
@wikkidsexycool: There are a couple of kickass women in the book. I loved them. One has been the Ladies’ All England shooting competition champion for 3 years running. She can outshoot everyone in the book.
@Kaetrin – the Boers are white. (I’m pretty sure they’re the same as the Afrikaners, the group that implimented apartheid post WWII).
I was mostly thinking about that story Archie tells about his uncle and the African kings and the limestone cave – I skimmed it because it was too gruesome for me, but also because it made me vaguely uncomfortable. I’ve noticed that if something makes me vaguely uncomfortable, it often really offends someone else (I’m also a bit clueless about a lot of things). So I thought I’d mention it to give wikkidsexycool a heads up, since no one else had mentioned it.
I am going to reread the book and see how I feel in light of the issues Sunita pointed out. Antisemitism is something I encountered up close and personal on quite regular basis when I was growing up. I will admit that Archie did not bother me – not in a sense that comments did not bother me but in a sense that I thought he started evolving to a better human being in that regard. Daniel is a different story though – I did not realize at all that stereotypes in his portrayal continue almost to the end and I am well disappointed. So yeah will reread the book and see how I feel.
@cleo: *smacks self in head* of course the Boers were white. I’m really not kidding when I say I’m a clueless white person. I don’t mean to make that an excuse. Because it isn’t.
I can’t remember much specific about black Africans – the kings and the limestone cave, well I read it as a burial ritual they used and I make no particular judgement about it, in the same way that I’d read about Tibetan sky burial or the mummification rituals used by ancient Egyptians. (Although there was reference to “the king that my uncle killed” and that is problematic).
@Sirius: In my own review I saw Daniel as deliberately “wearing a mask” – in that he was deliberately playing into stereotypes both as an actual cover for his job and as a cover for himself. I thought he was presenting an untrue version of himself so that he could protect himself better. Having said that, I have no practical experience with anti-semitism so I’m perfectly willing to believe I missed something there.
If you’re inclined, I’ve posted my own review now. I hope it’s okay to post a link here: http://www.kaetrinsmusings.com/2014/11/think-of-england-by-kj-charles.html
@Kaetrin:
It seems an odd thing to do, especially for that motive — playing into stereotypes by exaggerating the qualities he and others like him were hated for, in order to protect himself? Putting aside the offensiveness issue, it doesn’t seem believable.
@Janine: perhaps I explained it better in my review. I hope so anyway.
@Kaetrin: You explained it very well in both places; I just don’t find that authorial choice believable. Racism is just too painful for people to choose to bring it on themselves, even behind a false persona. I don’t believe that kind of mask would protect Daniel successfully.
This discussion has made me realize that one of the reasons I so completely loved this book while I was reading it is that I resonated with the portrayals of queerness – to me, K J Charles got that right. I resonated both with Archie’s building realization that his self image of “not queer” didn’t match up with his reality and with Daniel’s prickly, fuck you flamboyance. And I think because Charles’ portrayal of queer issues so completely worked for me, and because I so completely identified with Archie’s journey of self discovery, I kind of glossed over the racial stereotypes – I noticed some of them, some of them made me vaguely uncomfortable, but not enough to keep me from strongly connecting with the story. And I completely see why other readers can’t, or wouldn’t be able to, get past the negative stereotypes. I think this is a book I’ll still recommend to others, but with several caveats and reservations.
@Janine: Interesting point. I read Daniel’s mask as being much more about his sexuality than his ethnicity (although they are of course intertwined) – and it really rang true to me – speaking as a queer woman.
He says somewhere that he’s extremely discreet about his sex life but that acting camp isn’t illegal – yes, choosing to act flamboyant isn’t the safest or most rational way to present in a hostile society, but it rings true to me. I’ve certainly observed queer people who seem to exaggerate their queer presentation as a subtle (or not so subtle) fuck you to those who judge them. And Daniel sometimes uses his mannerisms to poke at those who look down on him. Again, not super safe behavior, but it rings true to me. I’m not an expert on this time period, but what I know makes me think his characterization as a flamboyant but discreet (about the things that’d get him arrested) gay man is historically believable, if not historically accurate.
@Janine: I think history and fiction are full of examples of people who hid behind their racial stereotype while taking advantage of it and working as spies or in other subversive ways because by being flamboyantly ‘other’ the bigots overlook the possibility that they can be more. I found that easy to accept in the broader sense, as a stereotypical gay cliché. He actually showed more resentment and sharp edges about his Judaism, which for him apparently is mostly racial and very little religion, but still a deep part of him.
@cleo:
I responded the same way to Archie’s eventual recognition of his sexuality. Not gay here, but his reactions certainly ring very true with what I’ve read of the British public school system and how separate boys and girls and later the lives of men and women really were, thus what the early experiences for men usually were.
@Patricia Burroughs [aka pooks]: I don’t know exactly why, but your comment made me realize that The Memoir of a Baby Queer, which totally blew me away yesterday when I read it on The Toast, kind of relates to Archie’s experience too – as well coming uncomfortably close to describing parts of my adolescent experience.
http://the-toast.net/2014/11/20/memoir-of-a-baby-queer/
@Janine: @Patricia Burroughs [aka pooks]: Yes, I think so. It also plays into the discussion on another thread about how people tend to recognise people of their own race and ethnicity and see other races/ethnicities as a “group” – (this is the all x people look alike thing). I think Daniel’s cover was very much about playing into all those stereotypes because they weren’t HIM. If they weren’t HIM they couldn’t hurt him as much AND they helped to make the real him somewhat unrecognisable and hidden – where he felt safe. That’s the way I saw it anyway. It made sense in my head at least but I don’t expect universal acceptance of my opinion or anything! LOL
Oh, forgot to also say, that Daniel preferred to sneer at others before they sneered at him and another part of the stereotype thing (from my perspective anyway) was that he was rubbing their faces in their ignorant stereotypes and judging them for their judgement. (That definitely made more sense in my head) As Cleo said, I think it was akin to the flamboyant gay stereotype which Daniel also played up.
@Kaetrin:
Yes, on both counts. For the record, I’ve finished the book now.
In Funny Girl, when Fanny Brice talks about the difference between being laughed at, and it being her joke? Beating them to the punch and controlling it?
Yes, very much that. Only in my case it wasn’t being gay, but being pregnant and 17, and determined to be proud and happy at a time when I knew if I tried to mask it, I’d be the subject of whispers and mean girl rumors, and hey, eventually be outted anyway.
It’s about seizing the power and the control, and in a situation like Daniel’s, the underlying power is real; he has the power to bring them down, and he knows it.
BTW, am I the only person who assumed that his two ‘uncles’ are also a gay couple? Or did I misread? I thought they traveled together?
@Patricia Burroughs (aka pooks) – it’s amazing to me how much I indentify with Archie’s story. Unlike Archie, I didn’t even attempt to have sex with women until after I consciously came out as bi. But, I spent the previous ten years crushing on, and lusting after, and falling for girls without having any clue that that’s what I was doing. None. Because I wasn’t queer. I wasn’t even actively in denial – just like Archie, it never occurred to me to think about it. At all. It honestly didn’t occur to me that maybe I had some non-heterosexual tendencies until my friends started coming out in college – and then the light bulb went off. And like Archie, once I figured it out, I couldn’t go back.
@Patricia Burroughs (aka pooks) – we cross posted. Yes! I’m glad you mentioned it – I kept forgetting to comment on that. I thought so too. But it wasn’t both of his uncles, it was his uncle Henry and Henry’s friend. They’re only mentioned once, but I certainly read them as possibly gay.
“Sir Henry and his inseparable friend and neighbour Captain Good had raised the boy between them, for years curtailing their trips to far-flung regions so that they were there each summer when he returned from school. He had grown up assuming that easy, uncomplicated companionship was the natural order of things.”
I knew there was a specific mention, yes.
I hope this is the first of a series, and I hope that their evolution as a couple continues to have rough spots. This is the kind of relationship I love to read.
@cleo: You’re right, it was Sir Henry, not Sir Maurice, which explains why Sir Maurice used the term pansy. I got the uncles confused, and thought perhaps Maurice was disdaining the effeminate gay persona, rather than the fact that he was gay. But now I see it was a different uncle.
@Patricia Burroughs [aka pooks]: I don’t think there’s anything specifically in the text to suggest it, but pretty much everyone I know read it that way. Archie is simple too naive to have had any idea.
@Patricia Burroughs [aka pooks] & @Cleo: I’m only now seeing these comments. Thank you, I think I understand better now.
Patricia, for me a mask such as you’re describing but one that is also specifically Jewish might work better if there is another goal for the character to accomplish, such as spying, rather than if the character’s goal is self-defense.
Cleo, I too have known queer people who choose flamboyance as a sort of “fuck you” statement to homophobes. I think the flamboyant mask also attracts some people who admire it, and I can see both these aspects of it can work for the person employing it.
But I don’t think it would work as well to present a Jewish stereotype mask as a form of self defense in the early 20th century. This was a time that was rife with anti-semitism which is a form of racism and not merely about religion. The anti-semitic stereotypes I’ve come across are very offensive — Jews were viewed by antisemites as craven, dishonest, ugly, greasy, cheap, preying on women and children, repugnant, and I could go on. I just can’t see anyone taking on *that* stereotype as a mask to hide behind if the purpose behind doing so is to gain a sense of safety.
@Janine: I don’t think Daniel does use a Jewish stereotype mask. He does use a flamboyant one, and –without spoilers — he does have another reason for it.
@willaful: Where do you think the hair products fits in Willa? I agree re the gay flamboyance – that’s what I was mainly referring to but am really interested to know what you think about the hair because curious. How do you think Daniel used it? How do you think the author used it?
I think the author used it because it’s absolutely what a character of that type in a British novel would use, regardless of race or religion. It’s a defining characteristic.
@willaful: so you didn’t think it was used as a stereotype for Jews then?
I think any men who wanted to look smart in early 20th century England used hair products. The wild romantic look wasn’t in fashion, men’s hair was slicked back and controlled. I can remember my father and brothers using ‘Brilliantine’ which was supposed not to ruin the upholstery the way macassar oil did. Brilliantine was still being widely used in 1950s.
@lis paice: I understand that is the case but if I recall correctly, the only character who used it in the book was Daniel. There is an association with “greasy” and “oily” which is/was a slur (and unfair and just plain wrong).
I honestly can’t remember now if others used hair products or whether it was a thing in the story. And it’s not so much *this* book in particular I’m asking the question about. I’m genuinely curious about whether some things are just so problematic they should never be there at all. (Especially because a lot of this stuff flies right over my head unless we have discussions like this very one.)
I wonder at what point does it become a problem? When it is only the Jewish character who uses it? When it is only the Jewish character’s use of it which is ‘featured’? Or, if *every* male character had used it, would it still have been a problem to mention the Jewish character used it because the association is so strongly made?
@Kaetrin: I seem to remember Archie using pomade, which is much the same. I have no view re the other points being discussed, it is just that your conversation awoke my memories of what men generally did to their hair when I was young.
@willaful:
What Willaful side–twice.
@cleo: Just read Memoir of a Baby Queer, and, ouch. Ouch, ouch.
I think I might have been a clueless participant in such a relationship once. Clueless for many years. And now I feel rather horrible about it, for not knowing, hurting feelings because, you know, clueless.
I assumed Daniel slicking back his hair was a matter of extreme foppish fashion, fitting the stereotype he was flaunting. I see that it could be used the other way, but in this context, I don’t think so. Unless there are specific quotes from the book that prove me wrong, which, you know, could happen.
I mentioned the different uses of hair products by different characters in an earlier comment, but I’ll quote from the book to make it clearer. Of course many men used brilliantine or other pomades in this era and it makes sense to use it as a character descriptor. But in the book the two men don’t use it in the same way.
Here’s Archie in the first chapter, preparing to go down to dinner:
. Here’s Archie’s first impression of Daniel:
Then later, in the first sex scene, Daniel’s hair is described again:
By contrast, in the final scene, when the two men are fully revealing their feelings, etc. to each other:
In addition, there are other descriptions in the earlier chapters where Daniel’s hair is described as sleeked back.
The text can’t be read unambiguously as using oil to signal queerness, because greasy is a slur aimed at Jews and at southern Europeans, and Daniel has both of those attributes as well. If Archie used as much pomade as Daniel, or if he wasn’t noticing the oil (or lack of it) several times, I doubt I would have noticed. But the repeated use of “dago” plus the repeated attention to his hair, combined with Archie’s single, sparing use of pomade, made it stand out to me. Maybe you have to have been called one of those epithets for it to jump out at you. I just know that for me, it was hard to miss.
An alternative explanation for the emphasis on Daniel’s hair is that Archie increasingly found it attractive (although then why switch to unoiled hair at the end?). But if he does, it’s in the context of “othering” Daniel, i.e., emphasizing those things about him that Archie isn’t and doesn’t want to be.
@Sunita: I agree with your interpretation of the hair products, especially the first description of Daniel – I remember kind of cringing when I read it. I’m part Italian, so I’m familiar with the greasy dago stereotype. I don’t look particularly Italian (or at least I don’t look how most Americans expect Italians or Italian-Americans to look) and I’ve had people use slurs against Italians in front of me, not realizing my background.
It didn’t have the same impact on my enjoyment of the book as it did on you, mostly because I identified so strongly with the queer parts of the story, which I think the author did very well, so I was able to give her the benefit of the doubt on the ethnic stereotyping and enjoy the overall story. But I see why you didn’t enjoy it.
@Sunita: I agree that the it was used in the book to signify Daniel’s otherness. I took it as a reference to his ethnicity rather than his religion – but from our Twitter conversation yesterday, I understand that ‘distinction’ is a bit of a furphy. My impression was that Archie always preferred Daniel without the oily hair but in my mind, that was linked to Archie wanting to be with the man behind the mask. However, I can easily see it can be interpreted as wanting Daniel to be less “other”.
These kinds of slurs have never been directed at me so they roll over me when I read. I appreciate these kinds of discussions because it helps me pay attention and develop an alternative perspective.
@lis paice: My dad used to use “brylcream” in his hair – I assume that was a brilliantine kind of product.
@cleo: Yes, I think attachment to Archie (more than Daniel) is at the core. I can’t see him the way readers who love the book do because he represents a different kind of character to me. Connections are so personal in reading anything, but especially in romance.
@Kaetrin: Yes, the distinction doesn’t really hold up, but even if we grant the distinction, that kind of “ethnic” disparagment, in that era, is basically racism (given the prominence of eugenics and the way British ideology treated cultural groups as “races”). Foreignness of non-northern-Europeans was graded, so being Mediterranean wasn’t quite as bad as being African or Asian, but it was still pejorative and marked those groups as intellectually and culturally inferior.
Oh, and my father used Brylcreem into the 1970s. I remember buying it for him.
@Sunita:
You were not the only one negatively affected. Even at the time then you’d have had reactions to such slurs, reactions which were conveniently left out. It would be unfair to compare Charles to Ishiguro, as she is considerably outclassed there, yet I can’t help comparing the way Ishiguro portrayed the very same topic in “The Remains of the Day”. If you cannibalize other people’s works you might want to choose those who master the topic in question.
I might add that on top of that I also quite disliked the way behaviour in relation to disability was portrayed, which was very anachronistic. No one of this position, class and background at the time would have behaved like that, even if it may be balm for modern readers’ delicacies.
In the end however something else was more important for me. I have a very hard time squeeing in favour of authors who seem to be regularly using old, often famous media and writing what amounts to me to fanfiction. As fanfiction I could say, yes, very well done. But as original fiction? I prefer people writing original material who don’t channel or rework anyone or anything except their own ideas and genuine research. I keep being astonished by the way this sort of thing is received.
@Sunita: I thought that the whole hair thing was part of the mask that Daniel used to protect himself during his rather dangerous job. At the end, when he was in his own home, he no longer felt the need for this. I say this with the caveat that while I have some experience of religious slurs, I have basically spent my life protected by white privilege. I do not bring the same experiences and expectations to this story as you most likely do. I do feel that this book needs a sequel both as a further exploration into Archie’s character growth and because I really liked both Daniel and Archie!
I agree with Mary Beth. Daniel dressed and styled himself based on a persona he created – you may call it his camouflage. I am in my 60’s. I have read my whole life romance, mostly historicals which are my passion. I read this book and I loved it. Beautifully written. And I must say that though I am a person of color, and Latina, I did not see any bigotry, racism or anti semitism. Maybe I became too involved in the story to see anything else or maybe some might be more sensitive than others because they see what others can’t see, based on their own experiences or feelings. Nevertheless, thanks for this review. I loved the story.