Courtney Milan is a hell of an overachiever. She isn't content to write charming romances in which, as in Austen, the primary barriers to love are the uncontrolled aspects of multifaceted personalities. Milan also strives to remind the reader of how many different kinds of love there are, and that loving thy neighbor is hard, but worthwhile. She is Dickensian in her examination of class, but so much broader in scope. But also fun. They flirt with math. How adorably geeky and STEMy is that?

If they weren't so much fun, I might be tempted to call them uplifting. They are, often, deeply moving, because her characters have sometimes horrible, albeit too believable, backstories. Her happy endings are hard-earned.

personal copy.

I've enjoyed a couple of Weiner's books, but more than her storytelling, I really admire her activism. I lost patience with people ragging on women's writing and writing for women a couple of decades ago. And don't get me started on genre snobbery. I READ POPULAR BOOKS. And so does every highbrow apologist, because the only writings that have survived from previous centuries, let alone millennia, were POPULAR. And it is my belief that writers who worked for pay on deadline, with quick turnaround, are the best.

So I remember many of Weiner's efforts to speak out against the quiet, systemic sexism that denigrates what women do as somehow less valuable than men's. Women young through old are responsible for most of the books read and sold in the U.S., but do they get the majority of the bylines, reviews, or awards? No, they don't even get half. VIDA's got the numbers and they're appalling, as is the fact that the worst offenders do not even have to apologize, because who cares? And the most prestige, the most coverage, the most work continues to go to het white men that no one enjoys reading.

Anyway, Weiner is funiest when writing of the worst times of her life. Her family is screwed up in mostly charming ways. She is always clear that writing is a job, and for anyone interested in following her advice, she presents a refreshingly clear-eyed training plan. So that's all great. But I love the bits when she is actively fighting for justice: I hope she's proud of that work. I hope her daughters are, too.

Library copy

07 Jan 2005

01 May 2016

Woman travels to Italy for the destination wedding of her best friend, doesn't get along with the fiance's best friend; wedding plans go awry; wedding goes off, everyone lives happily ever after. The whole story, like the other Boy books, is told through texts, journal entries, etc.

I'm not freaking out over this cover, it's girly, but it does convey a humorous romance, so that's fine. But. This is the story of a woman who is a popular cartoonist, the Wondercat artist. Why wouldn't you put this supposedly internationally-recognized image on the book? Because this isn't just a job, it is also plot important.

Library copy

Is there anything more passé than a steamy novel after sixty years? We read Valley of the Dolls and Flowers in the Attic back in the day, and it's really almost impossible to recall them without groaning a little. Or blushing. Or rolling your eyes. Possibly all of the above *and* a disclaimer about untutored youth. Peyton Place predates me, but it made enough of a ripple in the culture to get me to go back and give it a look. Just as I am someday going to do with Forever Amber. I thought it was okay, but no big deal. Then one day, I'm walking by the new books and I see this fabulously saucy cover (seriously, academic presses are not known for their fabulous covers), and I take a look, and by the time I've finished checking out the book jacket I am checking the book out of the library.
This is a social history of a publishing phenomenon about which I previously knew nothing. And it is riveting. How the publisher got it, how Metalious wrote it, the true murder story that forms the plot, excerpts from the author's fan mail, and a bit about her life after she found fame and fortune. It is an amazing story, both entertaining and insightful. I feel like Cameron has explained a time and a culture in a way I've never understood before, and I am grateful for her tutelage (hers must be the most popular classes on campus).
Great book, great cover, weird time in American history. I wish all academic writing were this fun to read.

Library copy

The historical romance genre is not universally known for being progressive or socially conscious. Which is odd, because from the first novels looking at marriage prospects from a female point of view, they've all of them pushed the boundaries in little ways and big. Pride and Prejudice waged war with inheritence laws that women still suffer under in the UK today. Those many novels of governesses demonstrated the dangers of depriving girls of education, money, and the ability to seek employment. It may not be beside the point of the books, but it's there, authors observing and commenting upon the lives of women, and suggesting better ways (albeit, on a personal, rather than a political or social justice level).

So I shouldn't be surprised to read a novel set in 1833 that addresses poverty, free education, infectious outbreaks, and lack of medical care, one that in addition questions church positions of the time. But I was surprised. And delighted. It's refreshing to see a character performing missionary work among people she values.

And also, it's great fun to see the hero of the piece trying to find ways to show he's worthy of her love other than just bashing bad guys about the place (although that aspect is there, too, for glorious comic effect). No man has wooed so hard since Darcy.

What I don't understand is why the cover doesn't in some way refer to the primary setting of the Shetland Isles, or to the time frame. The font, the bouquet, it all suggests something contemporary and frothy which is at odds with the text itself.

Personal copy