Once again, life has kept me from reading, but I managed to sneak in this independently published book on the sly.
- As fair warning: I really enjoyed this book, but parts of it annoyed me. These parts might not annoy you. Overall, it's a solid book, and in a different mood I might have no peeps to make to the contrary. Sadly, today is not that day. I am feeling very sassy.
- The title of the book, and author's penname, should give you a hint as to what annoyed me. This book is cheese all over. It's not a nice block of cheddar; it's Easy Cheese from a can. Allow me to provide a few quotes to illustrate my difficulties.
- In short: poor characterization of side characters, foolishness when intelligence is claimed, and silly attempts to imagine a gross difference of appearance when there is none. One last thing that bothered me: the stilted conversations that were tooted as thrilling, clever, and full of romantic tensions. The romantic tension was there, but it was like a person who wears too much make-up: gaudy. Not all of Edward and Mirabelle's conversations were like this, and they improved as the story went on, but a few bad eggs stuck out like sore thumbs.
- Things I loved! I loved the servants. They were hands down the most interesting part of this book for me. I would have died to hear the backstory of one, or get to meet one again once their voices were restored. Hope perhaps?
- In addition, the grammar, world-building, and basic plot were all solid. The descriptions of the castle, and particularly of Mirabelle's home village, might have been expanded a bit, but served well. Given that, my criticisms shouldn't be seen as criticisms of the entire book, rather they are restricted to the realm of minor annoyances.
- I would recommend this book, particularly to those who favor fairy tale retellings. If someone is very fond of traditionally told fairy tales, the flat/one-dimensional sisters, and the cheesy/gaudy romantic overtones shouldn't brother them. I don't anticipate abstaining from purchasing another of Darcy's books in the future.
[My sisters] both looked a great deal like Mother: their thick hair fell in golden waves, their brows were delicately arched, their teeth were perfect, and their beauty undeniable. I, on the other hand, favored my father, and had inherited his rather mousy brown hair, his dark eyes, and his taste for philosophical discussion. In short, my sisters and I could hardly be more different.I'm sorry, hair and eye color means you could hardly be more different? I must not have gotten the memo. We never hear anything along the lines that Mirabelle might have crooked teeth, or shaggy eyebrows, so she cannot be all that different from her sisters. If these are the characters hopping about with insecurities regarding their beauty, what are real girls supposed to think if they've got a snaggletooth?
[Mirabelle's] cheekbones were high and finely sculpted and her collarbone was delicately curved. Her eyes were large and a deep limpid brown, shaded by long, abundant lashes and crowned with delicately arched brows. She had a small, fine nose that tilted up slightly at the end, and a very well-formed mouth with lush, rose-hued lips. Her hair was an arresting shade of pale brown with threads of red-gold, and she wore it loosely pulled back from her face, her soft curls brushing her neck and tumbling down her back in shining spirals.Hmmm, delicately arched brows, soft curls, how was Mirabelle different from her sisters again? Granted, this is from Edward's perspective, and maybe Mirabelle sees herself differently, but we never hear any of it other than soft grunts in the direction of not beautiful. Besides, a small nose is a small nose. Infatuation does not blind a person so fully, particularly with regards to acquaintances. To give the author some credit, Mirabelle may be focused on how her personality clashes with her sisters, but those opening lines speak nothing of her sisters' attitudes and instead pulse with aesthetic measurements. Besides, that shift just brings up a new issue: Mirabelle's sisters are ridiculous! Perhaps one person could be so heartless, frivolous and self-centered, but two? I don't buy it and it robs the story of some much needed dimension in its characters. The monstrous gap of empathy might have been explained away by some past trauma, perhaps the divide happens at the time of their mother's death, but no effort is made to provide such an explanation.
Though I did not know why I chose [Edward] as my confidant, the choice simply felt right.Lines like this make me seriously doubt the validity of claims to Mirabelle's intelligence. You don't know why you chose Edward? You chose him because he's the only one in your jail that is capable of speaking!
"Mira... If only... If only..." I spoke the words aloud, and the amount of pain in my voice was nearly unbearable.Don't fret. Edward has just as much ridiculousness as Mirabelle. The pain in your own voice hurt you? That is a new one on me.
His chamber was the last place I could think of to search, and I stood before the door for a few seconds, afraid that I would be unable to bear the pain if he was not within.Wouldn't his chamber be the first place one would look for him? Maybe this is a case of customs of the time period, or a peculiarity of the person in question, but such special circumstances should have been outlined earlier on in the story. Otherwise, Mirabelle once again comes off as a dunce. You might disagree with me: Mirabelle is frantic with worry and has just run through a forest in search of Edward, and maybe she's just off of her game.