This book makes me feel bad for people who don't read much, because by not reading they miss emotionally wrenching and perfectly written stories like this and are the poorer for it. This is one of those books you pick up and read, finish, then turn around and read again. And you think on it, and you notice more detail, and you put it all together and read bits again, and then you fall on the floor wasted and realize it's a freaking masterpiece. Completely knocked out by how the author has made you care for the characters, and that the language, characterization, description and mileu are spot on, and damn it, it is over and you will never read it for the first time again. And you've let your duties slide and you have to break the spell to get away from it a bit, but you don't want to because it's that good. It's not a crack book, it's an opium book--you just want to curl inside and live in the dream a while.
Okay, so here's a confession--this is a romance novel. Laugh all you want. Laugh that I, Kerry--yes, she of the flinty exterior, the cool analytical intelligence, she who has been known to turn off NPR and yell accusingly that the news coverage is trying to manipulate her and prey on her emotions, the disparager of weddings, of sentiment, the Irish Catholic Most Likely To Engage In An Arranged Marriage, yes she--has taken to reading romance novels, particularly historical romance. Because I like my love repressed and unspoken and angsty. (And I took this habit up after my dad died. Make of that what you will.)
And we have repressed, unspoken, twisted and angsty love galore here. (Warning, spoilers ahead. I didn't know any of this when I started reading, which might be why it had such a grip on me. If you think you might read this book at some point, stop reading this post now and save your enjoyment.) We have a plot of boy meets girl, girl helps boy, boy helps girl, boy is obsessed with another girl which makes the girl who loves him sad, boy and sad girl have sex and are forced to marry, and boy faces fears about self and realizes that maybe he's not worthless.
Does this sound completely over the top and ridiculous? Oh wait, there's more.
Our hero, Samuel Gerard, is a ninja. A Victorian era white boy ninja. Kind of an accidental ninja, really. He's in London with his sort of family from Hawaii, visiting for the Queen's Jubilee. And what does a successful businessman/ninja with ties to English nobility do when visiting England? He stages a series of burglaries to draw attention and shut down parts of the child sex trade. Because until he was about eight and Lady Tess Ashland's detectives found him, Samuel was one of those children. Yeah, he's a mite bit fucked up.
Our heroine, Leda Etoile, is a genteel young woman of reduced and struggling circumstances. Her guardian died and she's doing her best to hang on to her dignity and virtue as she slips further into poverty. She's working at a fashion house when she and Gerard meet, but when the choice comes to either whore herself or find another job, she leaves her position. She's jobless and nearly broke and it's all going so, so badly when she has a cleaning frenzy and rearranges her room. Which trips up Samuel Gerard, as he's been sneaking into her garret to stash his burglary loot, and leads to his breaking a leg. Ha, ha. Serves you right, stalker boy. So after she helps him with his broken leg, he gives her a job as his secretary. And since they're such good pals, he asks her advice on how to go about courting his foster sister. Because marrying the last woman in the world you'd ever want to have sex with in a crazy attempt to overcome your past is such a good idea. Using the incest taboo as a shield for your feelings and desires -- it was going to work perfectly, Samuel, uh huh. Ay yi yi. Thank god he and Leda wind up married and going back to Hawaii where Samuel finally figures out that he's been played by his sensei for the last 17 years, that the sensei has an agenda that he hasn't been sharing, and oh yeah--maybe Samuel should have cleared those robberies with his sensei first because he stole something that's unleashed trouble, and made Leda a target.
Damn. I know this plot sound ridiculous, with a capital r ,and rhymes with credulous, which is what you have to be. But it works! Why? Because Kinsale so thoroughly grounds her story in characterization and the time period that it's completely believable. There's no talk of feeeeellllings and such to relieve Samuel's pain--he's a simmering mess of sexual frustration and shame and loneliness throughout the book and Kinsale expertly details his torment. He's reserved, secretive and his family doesn't even know him. The nickname of "Mano" (shark) fits him for multiple reasons. He does stupid and admirable things, in equal quantities. And when Samuel finally comes to the point where he gives into what he wants--his loving wife who despite everything he does understands andrefuses to desert him--and It. Is. Awsome. Leda comes off as a bit of a prim priss on the surface, but she's got spirit as she copes with her various humiliations. She's also truly generous person with her love and attention she shows towards Samuel--he may not have wanted to marry her, but she loves him and nothing will stop her from doing for him. They have a happy ending, and by golly they deserve it and you as the reader believe it.
And it's a sign of a good novel when you wind up with lots of questions after finishing a book that aren't about the whys and hows of the story, but of things connected to the story. Thank god I'm a librarian, as I might get around to researching these at some point. I'm now curious about what the shark chant sounds like, sharks in general, 19th century Hawaiian history and politics, Honolulu society, what exactly was going on in the US in 1887, and Queen Victoria's Jubilee celebrations. And I already looked up the meaning behind a turtle as a gift.
You can see me squeeing and bouncing and waving my hands wildly, right? Go get this book and curl up for some summer reading.
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