Flibbertigibbet

The Secret History of the Pink Carnation

I mentioned that I was reading The Secret of the Pink Carnation before and I also mentioned that I was enjoying it quite a bit. While I would still endorse Lauren Willig's first novel, I now have the benefit of a broader view of the work.

Before you read further, I do mention some specific items from the story that may be considered spoilers, but if you read this book, you'll also see that there really isn't much to spoil about the book -- and I do not mean that as an insult. The story is predictable, but not pat. One should read the book for... well, I'll get to that.

The form of the book is that of a book within a book where the main story, that of the Pink Carnation, an English spy in Napoleon's Paris, is told amid interludes of a modern grad student in London who is researching the Pink Carnation for her doctoral work.

The overall tone of the work is one of smart good humor. Even though the author obviously enjoys making references to classical literature (something I rather enjoy reading) and exercising a very broad vocabulary -- not unlike 19th century English authors, really -- I appreciate that the book is consistently playful and joyous. There isn't a single moment where I thought the narrator was smirking at me.

I have two complaints about the book.

First, the "heroine" is an idiot. In the reader's guide, Willig says that she wanted to "bedevil [her] hero, not with an enemy, but with an unwanted ally. A strong-minded heroine set on unmasking him -- so she can help him." Yes, Amy is quite strong-minded and I appreciate that she is tough without compromising her femininity. But Amy is an idiot, an inconsistent idiot at that. At first, we're set thinking that she's actually quite smart and clever in addition to being strong-willed and determined. She read Latin and Ancient Greek classics on her own growing up. She spent her playtime devising spy plans, schemes, and disguises. But when it comes to reality, she leaps to conclusions and ignores obvious clues. Yes, this provides us with some humor and mild suspense, but in all it makes Amy look like a moron unworthy of the sort of hero that the Purple Gentian is supposed to be.

After a couple hundred pages of Amy's unredeeming bumbling and emotional outbursts, it wasn't long before I became interested in more information about Jane and Miss Gwen who are infinitely more mysterious, sensible, and unexpectedly entertaining. Jane, in particular, is poised and smart as Amy really should be. Miss Gwen is gutsy and hilariously blood-thirsty. More time could have been spent on them to my great joy and satisfaction.

Speaking of which, the recovery of the Swiss gold gets disappointingly short shrift.

My second complaint is about an excess of detail regarding the acts of romantic intimacy that the hero and heroine engage in.

Amy's nails dug into the hard muscles of his upper arms, the pressure of his arousal against her sensitive nub driving her half wild with unfulfilled desire. "Oh, Richard..."

It was more than flesh and blood could bear. With the sound of his name whistling in his ear, Richard plunged, checking only slightly as he felt the barrier of her virginity giving way.

This description and others like it manage to be both an excess and a bore.

It's excessive because the details of their physical intimacy (earlier in the book there is a mention of a finger probing dark, moist places) do not add anything of value to the book in terms of theme, plot, or characterization.

I understand that the idea is that Amy and Richard simply cannot resist one another. Their attraction is physical and spiritual, but that is well established before these details are provided, which is why these things are a bore.

If you're going to embed erotica in a novel, you need to create a sense of surprise and mystery in addition to suspense about the physical act. In this book, we read of torn bodices and know immediately what is going to happen and nothing stops it from happening. Isn't bodice ripping a cliche somewhere?

I don't object to the physical intimacy itself because I actually like that the heroes are not restrained by any foolish sense of tradition or propriety. They know they love one another and they express it through the physical act. That much is proper. I object to the presentation both in the specificity of the description and the pacing within the story.

By contrast, the story of the grad student, Eloise, which contains the story of the Pink Carnation, has so far shown significant restraint an remains somewhat intriguing to the reader, although I have two warnings (I'm reluctant to call them complaints.) about this aspect of the novel:

1) these interludes with Eloise quickly become background noise to Amy's story and verge dangerously on being interruptions. The shifts between first person and third person are an effective barrier between the past and the present, but it opens up several questions to the reader. And the fact that it's so brief leaves us wondering why it's in the book at all.

2) The progression of events with Eloise doesn't avoid patness as well as those with Amy. Eloise's story occupies less than a quarter of the whole book and moves forward with the pitch and finesse of a drunken fratboy.

Overall, it was an enjoyable read. The reason you read this book is for the bubbly, playful sense of well-being that the novel has. It's light, fun, and humorous. There isn't enough suspense to make this a real "page turner" for me, but there's enough for me to recommend taking it to the beach with you.

Thematically, there isn't anything profound here. It's merely a love story. It aims to be the sort of romantic, swash-buckling adventure sort of like The Scarlet Pimpernel (the parallels are obvious even without the several references to the Pimpernel in the book. Also, is it advisable to position a fictional character from another author in your book as real in order to lend plausibility to your own?) or even Pirates of the Caribbean. It's been years since I've read the Pimpernel, so I can't say how well it compares and a comparison with a movie is challenging.

Bottom line: it's a fun book. I'm going to read the next one and I'll let you know how it turns out.