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Feb. 16th, 2016 06:23 pmThe other Barbara Michaels I read on vacation is The Master of Blacktower, which actually was Barbara Michaels' first Gothic, falling squarely into the proud genre known as 'Jane Eyre Lite.'
The heroine of this one is Damaris Gordon, a plucky Victorian (?) lass who decides to hire herself out as a personal secretary/librarian after her father's death rather than marry her boring cousin.
She is eventually employed as a personal librarian by Gavin Hamilton, a DARK, BROODING HIGHLANDER with a SINISTER SCAR, SINISTER BLACK-GLOVED HANDS, and a SINISTER KILT. He lives in a SINISTER SCOTTISH CASTLE with his INVALID DAUGHTER (whom he hates), SEVERAL SERVANTS (who all hate him), and a PERSONAL MINSTREL (degree of affection unclear, because the personal minstrel shows up for Damaris' first dinner at Blacktower, plays a Forbidden Song -- about Mary Queen of Scots! -- to trigger a Gavin Hamilton temper tantrum, and then pretty much immediately DIES. Sorry, personal minstrel!)
Damaris then spends a few chapters befriending Gavin Hamilton's sickly, neglected daughter, who has Unexplained Victorian Fake Paralysis (it's just ... never occurred to her to try to walk! UNTIL DAMARIS COMES ALONG). The book gets like halfway through a cute Secret Garden plotline with her before suddenly deciding that actually Annabelle is annoying and we don't care about her, what we REALLY care about is Damaris' helpless passion for the SINISTER KILT-WEARING TEMPER TANTRUM-THROWING GENTLEMAN who MIGHT BE TRYING TO MURDER HER.
The really remarkable thing about Gavin Hamilton is that he does not have even one single redeeming quality. He's a dick to his daughter, he's a dick to his servants, he's a dick to Damaris during the approximately three or four conversations they have onscreen before she falls madly, passionately, self-destructively in love with him; they don't even have common interests, since he never uses the library and he's not particularly interested in it! He's NOT EVEN HOT. Not unless you're one of Kate Beaton's Brontes, anyway. And even with Rochester, for all his flaws (and let's be clear, the dude has many, MANY flaws) you can absolutely understand why Jane is into him -- he is definitely an asshole, but he brings out the most interesting parts of her and makes her sparkle.
Damaris, on the other hand ... look, the heart wants what it wants and all, but personally I would rather have married the boring cousin, who turns up midway through the book and proceeds to be perplexed and dismayed by the entire situation, as well he should be. "Damaris, why is your boss fighting a duel to the death in the dining room with the next-door neighbor? I DON'T UNDERSTAND AND I THINK WE SHOULD LEAVE." Me too, Cousin Randall. Me, too.
...though on the other hand, it does turn out that a solid chunk of Gavin Hamilton's SINISTER AND MASSIVELY DICKISH BEHAVIOR is the result of him attempting to actually get a divorce from his secretly alive wife before hitting on Damaris rather than riding straight down bigamy highway! 'TAKE THAT, ROCHESTER,' says Barbara Michaels. Joke's on you, Gavin Hamilton; turns out Damaris would have been totally cool with riding down bigamy highway.
The heroine of this one is Damaris Gordon, a plucky Victorian (?) lass who decides to hire herself out as a personal secretary/librarian after her father's death rather than marry her boring cousin.
She is eventually employed as a personal librarian by Gavin Hamilton, a DARK, BROODING HIGHLANDER with a SINISTER SCAR, SINISTER BLACK-GLOVED HANDS, and a SINISTER KILT. He lives in a SINISTER SCOTTISH CASTLE with his INVALID DAUGHTER (whom he hates), SEVERAL SERVANTS (who all hate him), and a PERSONAL MINSTREL (degree of affection unclear, because the personal minstrel shows up for Damaris' first dinner at Blacktower, plays a Forbidden Song -- about Mary Queen of Scots! -- to trigger a Gavin Hamilton temper tantrum, and then pretty much immediately DIES. Sorry, personal minstrel!)
Damaris then spends a few chapters befriending Gavin Hamilton's sickly, neglected daughter, who has Unexplained Victorian Fake Paralysis (it's just ... never occurred to her to try to walk! UNTIL DAMARIS COMES ALONG). The book gets like halfway through a cute Secret Garden plotline with her before suddenly deciding that actually Annabelle is annoying and we don't care about her, what we REALLY care about is Damaris' helpless passion for the SINISTER KILT-WEARING TEMPER TANTRUM-THROWING GENTLEMAN who MIGHT BE TRYING TO MURDER HER.
The really remarkable thing about Gavin Hamilton is that he does not have even one single redeeming quality. He's a dick to his daughter, he's a dick to his servants, he's a dick to Damaris during the approximately three or four conversations they have onscreen before she falls madly, passionately, self-destructively in love with him; they don't even have common interests, since he never uses the library and he's not particularly interested in it! He's NOT EVEN HOT. Not unless you're one of Kate Beaton's Brontes, anyway. And even with Rochester, for all his flaws (and let's be clear, the dude has many, MANY flaws) you can absolutely understand why Jane is into him -- he is definitely an asshole, but he brings out the most interesting parts of her and makes her sparkle.
Damaris, on the other hand ... look, the heart wants what it wants and all, but personally I would rather have married the boring cousin, who turns up midway through the book and proceeds to be perplexed and dismayed by the entire situation, as well he should be. "Damaris, why is your boss fighting a duel to the death in the dining room with the next-door neighbor? I DON'T UNDERSTAND AND I THINK WE SHOULD LEAVE." Me too, Cousin Randall. Me, too.
...though on the other hand, it does turn out that a solid chunk of Gavin Hamilton's SINISTER AND MASSIVELY DICKISH BEHAVIOR is the result of him attempting to actually get a divorce from his secretly alive wife before hitting on Damaris rather than riding straight down bigamy highway! 'TAKE THAT, ROCHESTER,' says Barbara Michaels. Joke's on you, Gavin Hamilton; turns out Damaris would have been totally cool with riding down bigamy highway.
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Date: 2016-02-17 02:09 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-02-17 02:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-02-17 02:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-02-17 04:04 am (UTC)What happens to him?
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Date: 2016-02-17 05:37 am (UTC)I just want you to know I am apparently hatching a lovely menstrual migraine but this made me laugh for about five minutes straight and I feel much better, largely because SINISTER KILT
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Date: 2016-02-17 07:42 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-02-17 03:55 pm (UTC)The thought has occurred to me before that The Secret Garden is basically a Gothic anyway, at least to begin with.
I mean, look: It's about a young female orphan who's sent off to live in the remote mansion of her saturnine uncle, which is overseen by a forbidding housekeeper and there's a secret occupant whose moans echo through the halls on dark nights, and later a doctor who may be up to no good.
Only it goes on to thoroughly dismantle the plot arc because everybody - the uncle, the housekeeper, the secret occupant, the doctor, and probably a few others I'm not calling to mind right now - turns out to be basically an ordinary decent human being once you get to know them, and nobody's actually plotting anything.
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Date: 2016-02-17 10:38 pm (UTC)Well, okay, then.
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Date: 2016-02-17 10:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-02-17 10:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-02-17 10:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-02-17 11:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-02-17 11:03 pm (UTC)(Also, I am sorry about your migraine!)
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Date: 2016-02-17 11:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-02-17 11:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-02-18 12:51 am (UTC)Michaels' middle period is the best, where she goes all out playing with and reversing Gothic tropes. You have GOT to read Someone in the House, if you haven't already.
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Date: 2016-02-18 12:52 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-02-18 01:55 am (UTC)It's never actually clear how he did lose the fingers, he's like 'they were sliced off ... in a waterfall ..... or maybe my secret half-brother evil servant chopped them off, idek myself."
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Date: 2016-02-18 01:58 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-02-18 01:59 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-02-18 02:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-02-18 02:03 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-02-18 10:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-02-21 08:32 pm (UTC)To be fair, it's not just my dad. I have a large store of elderly Scottish-dancing kilt-wearing acquaintances. (Also a number of non-elderly ones, admittedly.) Some of them I like better than others, but none are mysteriously compellingly broodingly attractive yet sinister. Alas.