Apologies for the lack of linkage in this post.I recently posted at some length on Tom and Sharon Curtis's Lightning That Lingers, an early 1980s contemporary. Subsequent to that I bought Sunshine and Shadows, another contemporary written by them about a decade later, a single-title length book featuring an Amish widow heroine and a jaded movie director hero. It came highly recommended by Meriam.
Here's the first thing to note. I absolutely loved S&S. It was utterly delightful, and possibly the most sensory book I think I've read since Beast by Judith Ivory. I can't emphasise enough how much I loved and enjoyed it, more even than LTL (which I raved about). I say that to put the following comments in context - these comments are the manner of observations, points of interest; possibly reservations of the most minor sort.
I almost regret making these points. Despite my saying I absolutely loved S&S, inevitably, these comments will detract from that assertion.
Judging by the two Curtis books I've read (and that may not be a fair sample) I'm thinking that the Curtises *thing* is Innocence and Experience. In both books, the experienced hero's view of himself is to some extent one self-loathing and he finds some kind of redemption in the healing, wholesome innocence of the heroine (On a separate but related note, is it just me or are self-loathing heroes getting more commonplace? My current read, One Week As Lovers by Victoria Dahl features one).
In light of that, the casting of the hero (movie director with a disturbing childhood) and heroine (Amish widow) in S&S feels like an supersized version of this idea. As though the authors had thought hard about how they could place their H/H at the most extreme ends of the innocence-experience spectrum.
Overall I enjoyed the depiction of Amish life. It felt well-researched and intimate and it was not entirely one-sided. However, I couldn't ignore that whilst Amish life was not portrayed wholly positively, there was a rosy idealism about it in the book that, to me, over-simplified the life. This depiction didn't have a sense of religious evangelism about it (something I am watchful for in my reading matter). It was more - and I find this difficult to put my finger on - more like a sort of cultural appropriation of the Amish life that made me very slightly uncomfortable; a sort of fetishisation of Amish innocence for the purposes of heightening the extreme positions of the H/H on the innocence-experience spectrum. This was underlined for me by the surprising ease with which the heroine's father relented on a number of matters towards the end of the book. His Amish beliefs didn't 'matter' as much as delivering the right ending. (Well, that's romance, I know.)
My reaction to this aspect of this book (which, again I say, I absolutely loved) made me recall certain pejorative comments I've read about M/M romance, which talk about it as fetishising homosexuality for a largely straight female audience. It also makes me think of some of the comments Sarah Frantz has made about BDSM romance at DA in relation to the fact that many BDSM readers (who do not even dabble in the lifestyle) are not troubled - as Sarah sometimes is - by lack of realism about the lifestyle.
Is it alright - in the context of a romance novel - to appropriate from cultures/ beliefs/ lifestyles in this way, with the purpose of entertaining?
I think it is alright. That view is one I reach easily, because it derives from one of my own most strongly held beliefs: freedom of expression. But yes, I think it can be problematic where the author is insensitive to what they are appropriating.
In S&S, I loved Susan's uber-innocence and there were many clever and satisfying ways in which the authors played with my assumptions - which were also the hero's assumptions at times. They showed me how clever and sly and sophisticated Susan could be in her way. But ultimately, her innocence was an idealised thing that I didn't really believe in, in a way.
S&S certainly wasn't an insensitive appropriation of Amish life. In fact, it was an incredibly thoughtful and careful one. But I knew when I reached the end that what I had enjoyed - so very much - in this book was purest .... fantasy.
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9 comments:
If you loved the heroine's uber-innocence... what did you think of Burnett's Making of a Marchioness? I just finished it, and Emily's uber-innocence left me repulsed, annoyed, amused, and sort of incredulously admiring.
RfP - never read it. But I love your characteristically intriguing summing up.
Disclaimer: I "loaned" my copy of S&S to a friend almost two years ago; what follows is based mostly on my (very rosy) memories of the novel.
Did they fetishize innocence? Whilst there's no denying that they like that trope, overall I would say no... like you say, I think they subverted some of my expectations, created a stronger and more complex heroine than I expected and generally presented an evenhanded and sympathetic portrayal of the Amish without ignoring the fact that some can't stand to live that way (like Susan's sister?)
Also, the fact that Susan's father had to make some pretty fundamental concessions speaks volumes: everyone had to change. Even the Amish way of life can't stay static. Adapt to survive.
Couldn't you argue that the majority of romances fetishize wealth, fame and beauty? That (particularly the class/ wealth element) increasingly puts me off.
RfP - loved Making of a Marchioness, but I read it as a satire. The introduction pretty much told me not to take it as anything except a gentle poke at the genre. With that in mind, I LOVE it.
Merian - hello! I don't really disagree with what you say. I thought it was a good and a sensitive portrayal of Amish life. And I too loved the book. I suppose my pause was really over the question: but why have an Amish heroine at all? Well, of course you could say the same about any romance heroine in a sense? Why have a governess? Why have a nurse? Why have a businesswoman? The point - if there is one and there may not be - will normally be to advance the conflict between hero and heroine. So in that sense, it's a typical romance.
In answer to your question - do they fetishise innocence? - yes, I think so. But I think they fetishise innocence in Lightning that Lingers and in The Golden Touch too (which I've just read; my advice? Advance it up your TBR pile - highly enjoyable).
The point - I felt - of Susan being Amish was to heighten - or underline - that innocence. You could have an Amish heroine who wasn't anything like Susan with her goodness and her capacity for love and her communing with nature and all that.
I suppose these niggles as coinciding too with a slight discomfort I have with all the purity of the heroines in these books and what that implies.
"loved Making of a Marchioness, but I read it as a satire."
I was prepared for satire (having enjoyed A Lady of Quality), but even so, Emily got more and more irritating. (Though there was evil genius in the scenes near the end, where she sits in the master's vacant chair and reads the bible as literal truth.)
"The introduction pretty much told me not to take it as anything except a gentle poke at the genre."
Wish I'd read *that* introduction. The intro I read portrayed it as very much fetishizing innocence in service to portraying the horrors faced by women. Women, so helpless, so sweet, enslaved by society, so cruel, so hateful.... Hmph!
Sorry to hijack, T! I have nothing to say on S&S or appropriation, but having just finished the Hodgson Burnett, uber-innocence struck a chord.
It's been a little while since I last read S&S, but outside of the ending of the book -- which I totally agree was highly idealized -- I did not have the sense of the Amish lifestyle thoroughly idealized.
The fact that Susan's sister has left and can no longer contact the family (am I remembering correctly in thinking that neither parent will even acknowledge her existence anymore?) suggests a less than rosy view of the religion. Some of Susan's fellow Amish are pretty awful to Susan, as well, once it's known she's friendly with Alan.
I do think that Susan is somewhat idealized, however, and that her Amishness is a substantial part of that idealization. She is somewhat sheltered from the darker world that has damaged Alan. She loves nature and is linked to it in ways that are often typical of Romance (which has a tendency to celebrate the very thing that freaked Hawthorne out so famously).
She is innocent, as you say, in certain ways, although I would argue that she is neither naive nor prim, which I actually found refreshing given her religious background. By that I don't mean to suggest that all Amish women are prim and naive, only that Romance sometimes traffics in those kinds of stereotypes, and I think the Curtises created a fairly dimensional character in Susan.
Which relates to your point about how the Curtises seem interested in the innocence/experience dichotomy. I agree if we're talking about it in the William Blake sense -- that is, in the manner of complicating the perceived opposition by showing much crossover and dualism. I prefer to think of it as worldliness that the Curtises are interested in -- that is, the various ways in which the characters are of, in, and present in the world, how differently worldly experiences have shaped them, and how the love between the hero and heroine is both very much of the world (it's physically passionate and incredibly sensually rendered) and yet also somehow transcendent of certain mundane fetters and boundaries.
I've been thinking, for example, of the scene in Love's A Stage where Frances and David end up in the abandoned manor after their hot air balloon crashes. David and Frances -- the seemingly uptight pastor's daughter -- nearly sleep together, except for the fact that David knows that if they go that far she will regret it afterward and pull away. The scene is rendered with an amazing physicality and sexual energy, and all of a sudden we see how much more layered as a character Frances really is. Her response to the encounter is complicated and powerful; she doesn't just fall into the 'oh, how wonderful that I've had unprotected premarital sex with the man I cannot hope to marry!' reverie that so many historical heroines do. And yet she now knows herself in a new way, and the lesson is powerful and challenging. It's not revolutionary, but I do find it quite interesting. The Windflower's Merry is an even darker example of this type, I think, although Devon's pretty dark himself.
Anyway, I love your comments about S&S and you've got me in the mood for a re-read, during which I'm going to pay more attention to the appropriation question.
Robin - it's now over a year since I read S&S too, so my memory is also far from perfect, but your comments do chime with me. I think the Curtises were indeed careful to portray neither the Amish nor the non-Amish societies as wholly bad or good, yet it's difficult to disassociate Susan's innocence from her Amishness.
I love your comment that Susan is neither "naive nor prim" but she is delicate and unable to cope in the non-Amish society she finds herself in with David. So she is ... rarified, I suppose. Not a robust innocent. And that sets up the conflict of possible destruction of the innocent heroine by the experienced hero. Which, thinking about it, is another theme you see in Curtis books - the threat of worldly infection/ destruction (I'm thinking here of The Golden Touch, with the singing star hero whose fame is a destructive influence on the heroine.)
Do you think Susan was unable to cope in David's world because of her Amishness or her innocence, or because she was so isolated in David's world, not only cut off from friends and family and familiar community, but from really ANY sense of community?
Interesting question, Robin. I'm struggling now to remember the specific scenes in the section of the book where she's in David's world but isn't there a scene where she inadvertently takes some kind of drug, having no idea what it is? I have a vague recollection of that and that gave me the sense that her innocence was dangerous to her in that world. I think there was a sense of her being displaced too, and lacking a community but yes, to me, the major thing I took from that section of the book was that she was a danger to herself in Dsvid's world.
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