Egrets to the Flames

Egrets to the Flames, Barbara Anton, 2007, Oceanview Publishing. Genre: Fiction. 301 pages. Finished 6/27/2010.

LesOpinion: I'm about to speak ill of the dead. The author of this crappy novel, Barbara Anton, died in 2007. Have mercy on her soul, dear lord, and forgive me for what I'm about to say.

Anton was a prolific playwright who should have resisted the urge to branch out. She is incapable of writing expository transition between episodes of dialogue, comes from the Reverend Alcorn School of Gratuitous Plot Twists, and has created a shamefully racist portrait of an African American maid reduced to the shuffling stereotypical house mammy (with her "full lips hanging in a pout" and "cower[ing] in the hall, eyes wide, hands trembling"). She even has a Japanese character who says "Ah so." I shit you not.

If I were stuck on a desert island with this book, at least I'd have 301 sheets of toilet paper.

Darwin's Wink

Darwin's Wink, Alison Anderson, St Martin's Press, 2004. Genre: Fiction. 276 pages. Finished 6/24/2010.

LesOpinion: Finding books like Darwin's Wink on the shelves restores my faith in the Library Quest. It's proof that a book I would otherwise overlook might not only be a wonderful discovery, but it can even make up for the other drivel I endure along the way.

Darwin's Wink doesn't sound like much on the surface: it's a love story centered on two naturalists trying to save rare birds off the coast of Mauritius. But it's not the story--as compelling and heartbreaking as it is--that carries the book. It's the prose. Anderson is a gifted writer with a distinct rhythm and impeccable insight.

One of about a bazillion good quotes: "Fran is hard. She has forgotten softness but is no stranger to it; she despises weakness and misinterprets the nature of of softness."

Do yourself a favor, Gentle Reader, and curl up with this book on your next vacation.

Three More Lousy Novels by Evelyn Anthony

The Legend, Evelyn Anthony, 1969, Coward-McCann. Genre: Romantic Suspense. 254 pages. Finished 6/3/2010.

Exposure, Evelyn Anthony, 1994, HarperCollins. Genre: Romantic Suspense. 277 pages. Finished 6/15/2010.

The Scarlet Thread, Evelyn Anthony, 1990, Harper & Row. Genre: Romantic Suspense. 327 pages. Finished 6/19/2010.

LesOpinion: Never have I come so close to abandoning the Library Quest, gentle reader, as I did slogging through these three woman-hating novels. You'll remember Evelyn Anthony as the author of Clandara. A few weeks ago I was ready to forgive Anthony for thinking that the coupling of stupid women and abusive men was romantic--she was, after all, writing in 1963. I held out hope that the author would overcome her self-loathing by the 1990's and maybe create a female character with half a personality who wouldn't fall head over heels for an abusive, murdering dickweed. Alas, Anthony's more recent heroines (if you could call them that) are as puling, big breasted, and vacuous as those of 30 years ago.

A sign these and other books like them are going to be awful: As my friend Allison pointed out, it's never good when the author's name appears in larger type on the front of the book than the book's title. When that happens, you know you just bought a one-way ticket to Crapville.

Clandara

Clandara, Evelyn Anthony, 1963, Doubleday & Co. Genre: Historical Fiction. 324 pages. Finished 6/2/2010.

LesOpinion: If you were faced with a book described on its yellowed dust jacket from 1963 as "a novel of love and rebellion in eighteenth-century Scotland" how eager would you be to dive right in? My thoughts exactly.

Set against the backdrop of Prince Charles Edward Stuart's ill-fated return to Scotland in 1745 to reclaim the throne and make the Catholics happy again, the book tells the tale of star-crossed lovers Katherine Fraser and James "the MacDonald" MacDonald. The Fraser and MacDonald clans have been involved in a feud that makes the Hatfields and McCoys seem like bosom buddies. The MacDonald, he freely admits, is a murderer and a rapist (he has locked whole families of Fraser farmers in their barns and burned them alive, but only after raping the women for good measure). Good news! The lovely Katherine, we learn, can overlook little character quirks like psychopathy.

There's a good bit of 1963-level bodice-ripping ("his body reaching its triumph within hers"), charging steeds, and even a few sword fights thrown in for good measure. It's a little overlong on bringing James and Katherine together, and honestly, James was so repulsive I ended up hoping for his death every time he came near a sharp object. Alas, 'twas not to be.

The kind of dick James is that was probably sexy in 1963: "He did not like women to do anything at all except accommodate him when and where he felt like it, to ask no questions and make no demands."