Keira Montclair

I guess you could say that it’s a tale told by The Fool (0), signifying something, although none the more so for being full of sound of fury, right.

I found it hard to find anything to say about this book; it feels so familiar, the Greek thing where the youth saves the maiden from the sea-monster; the Scottish thing, the Scottish hue—and Americans are quite often very clannish and Scottish, so it’s hard not to know about that. I was interested in getting it because it’s a different feel from the English pop romances, more masculine, and on the cover of this book I didn’t have to look at the guy’s abs, just his rocking sword and muscular back, right. It’s not what you would call a modern style, although there’s a light dusting of therapy modernity—the girl doesn’t jump on top of him, hot and randy, immediately after being rescued from her abusers—and some knowledge of some of the social insanity of the Middle Ages, tempered by the traditional popular thing with the black-and-white characters, you know: Mr. Hero vs Mr. Cruelty, basically. Anyway, certainly theologians and even to some extent male Christians tend not to be very romantic, but this book kinda falls on the edges of what you could call Christian romance, albeit without the artless preaching and familiar Bible verses/themes, right. The codependent girl, the traditional everything…. Did I mention the girl is kinda a wilting flower? 😸

It’s hard to find something to say about it, but it certainly passes the time.

…. I mean, she thinks of herself as brave, (heroic!)—there’s no one who always and only think of themselves as helpless love and all that—although it’s hard not to smile, you know. Of course, other people’s pigeonholing of ‘the woman’ is distorting, of course—but she’s a little funny, you know. It’s hard not to see the Fox News update in it, albeit in the one time out of one thousand that Fox News updates (those intrusive ones on your tablet) aren’t almost intentionally racist or nativist, you know. Or “big bad wolf feminist”, occasionally. Even when it’s cute-mom, it’s weird, but…. People are weird.

…. But that the hostile brother is still at large when the wedding is set to take place—that there’s that element of danger—is more emotional than anything that Hugh Auden wrote in any of his poems, or allowed himself to be capable of, really. Of course, Hugh was very “unique” or whatever: he made these craft small-batch/one-of-a-kind cars, although they didn’t go anywhere, of course. There are a lot of girls like Keira, and it’s not on the right side of the critics’ it-matters-because-I-like-it, it-doesn’t-matter-because-I-don’t-like-it, but it has all the essential features of story, and a story’s satisfaction. In a better world, it might even be inspiring, to be honest.

…. It is of course, if you like in the ‘de vulgaris’ style—unlettered commoners and so on, but it’s not really badly done. Life and death. Women and men.

Keira is incidentally Southern (USA), and it is rather Southern. The region has its issues—some travel channel should do a show: Vegan Outcast: The American South, where some poor fool has to scramble around Louisiana and South Carolina trying to buy bread without bacon in it, not that most people are vegetarians where I live, because they’re not—but I would never suggest that the problem with the South is that they don’t belong to bloodless Bostonite chess strategy clubs, you know.

It’s a surprisingly satisfying book.… (altro)