Scan barcode
A review by chiaroscuro
As Luck Would Have It by Alissa Johnson
1.0
This managed to hit my HR pet peeves with such deadly accuracy, I am almost impressed.
I want to pummel the hero into the next century. He has all the awful parts of being a duke (self-important, arrogant, a belief that everything he wants is his due) without any of the redeeming (competence, intelligence, using his political influence for good). He spends most of the book demanding that Sophie 'be his' without ever stopping to acknowledge the fact that she is an unmarried girl who has a future to plan for and a reputation to uphold, and she cannot simply engage in some dalliance with a (frankly) emotionally reticent duke without a second thought. Does he think that sleeping with him is so wonderful it's worth flinging away all respectability and hope for a solid future? And THEN he has the gall to say that he doesn't like being a duke and receiving all the deference that comes with the position! As if he hasn't spent the whole book stomping around all angry that Sophie won't bend to his wishes, like a duke would expect! I hate him!!!!
To be fair to Johnson she later spells it out that Alex is a selfish bastard by not thinking about things from Sophie's point of view, but Sophie is all "no don't apologise you haven't done anything wrong by being uncommunicative and unclear about what exactly you were after when you kept pursuing me". Except he did do wrong because he demanded answers from her (about what she was doing romantically) whilst providing none of his own. Not only is that unfair, it's being tone deaf to the vulnerability of women in this era. Not only does he have no right to ask Sophie such personal questions, he should have the goddamn intelligence to figure out that she's reluctant to throw herself into something undefined with him.
Sophie annoyed me too because she kept being miserable about her choices without doing the logical thing of making new ones. Also near the beginning Johnson has her take down some artfully placed sexism at a dinner party, which is just the sort of display that gets on my tits. I know that writing historical romance inevitably calls into discussion period-typical sexism and heroines nowadays are hardly ever written as wilting lilies. But having a heroine make a grand exhibition of her progressive ideals strikes me as an awfully vulgar way to go about showing she's not a limp stocking, and I also hate the gaucheness of making a scene at a dinner party. Sophie is supposed to be exotic because she speaks Asian languages, knows how to fight and remorselessly battles everyday sexism. I appreciate an original as much as anyone, but Sophie carried off her originality with a certain self-righteousness that annoyed me so much I have several ranty paragraphs on it below.
Neither am I convinced of the love Sophie and Alex apparently have. For her:
I'm of the opinion that polite society is vicious, cunning, powerful and no more or less intelligent than any other society. Really this criticism is aimed more at Sophie's snide comment than Alex's, because Alex's is just a case of "Sophie's not like other girls". Sophie resents having to be a simpering nitwit to attract marriageable men; this seems to me to be a gross simplification of matters intended to present Sophie as an unwavering, principled, outspoken heroine. In reality polite society is fucking savage: Edith Wharton shows how its vicious decorum is harder to fight than physical violence, and how ruthlessly it protects itself against threats to its security. So the obnoxious view this book has by dismissing polite society as full of fakery, sexism and racism is, whilst accurate, also harmfully reductive. You might say 'calm down, Jess, this is a romance and obviously isn't going in for historical accuracy'. I know that and you're not listening clearly to the argument I'm making. Johnson has basically appropriated Regency society by reducing it to being frivolous and backwards for the sake of giving our hero and heroine a mutual punching bag to fall in love over. There's potential for the author to explore the flaws and workings of upper crust Regency society: mentions of Napoleon and Prinny as well as Alex's (fake) hatred for being a duke could all have paved ways to criticising its self-serving nature, its reliance on the downtrodden majority to prop itself up, its corruption and decadence. Instead all it suffers is an unintelligent dismissal as sexist etc., but never inquiring as to why sexism is necessary for it to stand as it is. And of course, the head sexist turns out to be an attempted rapist whom I'm sure will resurface in book 2 — but that's another matter. So as part of this book's intelligence signalling, we are informed that Alex and Sophie debate politics. Well, I won't take theirl word for it.
There is a redeeming thing about this book though. The second in this series, [b:Tempting Fate|5107164|Tempting Fate (Providence, #2)|Alissa Johnson|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1347576593s/5107164.jpg|5173929], sounds brilliant because 1) lifelong enemies, 2) close familiarity, 3) untapped passion. In true lovebird fashion, Whit and Mirabelle's nicknames for each other are 'imp' and cretin'. There is also this wonderful exchange between Alex and Whit on the subject of Mirabelle:
I won't say anything about the weird ending or the hopelessly contrived spying plot. I suppose it remains to be admitted that Johnson clearly can write; it's just that here her characters pissed me off spectacularly. Let bygones be bygones though, as I will now be heading straight for book 2. In a short time I will know if I trudged through this for naught or if it was worth every irritating second.
I want to pummel the hero into the next century. He has all the awful parts of being a duke (self-important, arrogant, a belief that everything he wants is his due) without any of the redeeming (competence, intelligence, using his political influence for good). He spends most of the book demanding that Sophie 'be his' without ever stopping to acknowledge the fact that she is an unmarried girl who has a future to plan for and a reputation to uphold, and she cannot simply engage in some dalliance with a (frankly) emotionally reticent duke without a second thought. Does he think that sleeping with him is so wonderful it's worth flinging away all respectability and hope for a solid future? And THEN he has the gall to say that he doesn't like being a duke and receiving all the deference that comes with the position! As if he hasn't spent the whole book stomping around all angry that Sophie won't bend to his wishes, like a duke would expect! I hate him!!!!
To be fair to Johnson she later spells it out that Alex is a selfish bastard by not thinking about things from Sophie's point of view, but Sophie is all "no don't apologise you haven't done anything wrong by being uncommunicative and unclear about what exactly you were after when you kept pursuing me". Except he did do wrong because he demanded answers from her (about what she was doing romantically) whilst providing none of his own. Not only is that unfair, it's being tone deaf to the vulnerability of women in this era. Not only does he have no right to ask Sophie such personal questions, he should have the goddamn intelligence to figure out that she's reluctant to throw herself into something undefined with him.
Sophie annoyed me too because she kept being miserable about her choices without doing the logical thing of making new ones. Also near the beginning Johnson has her take down some artfully placed sexism at a dinner party, which is just the sort of display that gets on my tits. I know that writing historical romance inevitably calls into discussion period-typical sexism and heroines nowadays are hardly ever written as wilting lilies. But having a heroine make a grand exhibition of her progressive ideals strikes me as an awfully vulgar way to go about showing she's not a limp stocking, and I also hate the gaucheness of making a scene at a dinner party. Sophie is supposed to be exotic because she speaks Asian languages, knows how to fight and remorselessly battles everyday sexism. I appreciate an original as much as anyone, but Sophie carried off her originality with a certain self-righteousness that annoyed me so much I have several ranty paragraphs on it below.
Neither am I convinced of the love Sophie and Alex apparently have. For her:
Now she could spend the rest of the day sitting here with Alex discussing everything from politics to fashion. He wouldn't speak down to her or temper the choice of topics. He'd ask her opinion, listen carefully to what she said, and almost certainly disagree with her. But rather than give her a patronising pat on the hand and an equally patronising smile, he'd debate the subject with her as an equal.And for him:
Alex viewed her enthusiasm with a sense of wonder. It was refreshing to see someone so overtly intent on enjoying life rather than affecting a more fashionable ennui. The world was full of new things to discover, one simply had to look beyond the front door to find them. Sophie, it seemed, understood that.So you see, they are truly two unique souls who have found each other and connect on a uniquely quasi-deep level that no one else in this shallow, shallow society could ever understand.
I'm of the opinion that polite society is vicious, cunning, powerful and no more or less intelligent than any other society. Really this criticism is aimed more at Sophie's snide comment than Alex's, because Alex's is just a case of "Sophie's not like other girls". Sophie resents having to be a simpering nitwit to attract marriageable men; this seems to me to be a gross simplification of matters intended to present Sophie as an unwavering, principled, outspoken heroine. In reality polite society is fucking savage: Edith Wharton shows how its vicious decorum is harder to fight than physical violence, and how ruthlessly it protects itself against threats to its security. So the obnoxious view this book has by dismissing polite society as full of fakery, sexism and racism is, whilst accurate, also harmfully reductive. You might say 'calm down, Jess, this is a romance and obviously isn't going in for historical accuracy'. I know that and you're not listening clearly to the argument I'm making. Johnson has basically appropriated Regency society by reducing it to being frivolous and backwards for the sake of giving our hero and heroine a mutual punching bag to fall in love over. There's potential for the author to explore the flaws and workings of upper crust Regency society: mentions of Napoleon and Prinny as well as Alex's (fake) hatred for being a duke could all have paved ways to criticising its self-serving nature, its reliance on the downtrodden majority to prop itself up, its corruption and decadence. Instead all it suffers is an unintelligent dismissal as sexist etc., but never inquiring as to why sexism is necessary for it to stand as it is. And of course, the head sexist turns out to be an attempted rapist whom I'm sure will resurface in book 2 — but that's another matter. So as part of this book's intelligence signalling, we are informed that Alex and Sophie debate politics. Well, I won't take theirl word for it.
There is a redeeming thing about this book though. The second in this series, [b:Tempting Fate|5107164|Tempting Fate (Providence, #2)|Alissa Johnson|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1347576593s/5107164.jpg|5173929], sounds brilliant because 1) lifelong enemies, 2) close familiarity, 3) untapped passion. In true lovebird fashion, Whit and Mirabelle's nicknames for each other are 'imp' and cretin'. There is also this wonderful exchange between Alex and Whit on the subject of Mirabelle:
"She's an unmarried female with a drunken uncle for a guardian, Whit. She needs a champion."There's something so deliciously British and pre-modern about references to the devil, don't you think? Perhaps I am going mad.
Whit looked at him as if he were a complete stranger. A completely insane complete stranger. "Are we speaking of the same girl? Brown hair, brown eyes, tongue of an adder? Because she has a champion — I believe he goes by the name Lucifer."
I won't say anything about the weird ending or the hopelessly contrived spying plot. I suppose it remains to be admitted that Johnson clearly can write; it's just that here her characters pissed me off spectacularly. Let bygones be bygones though, as I will now be heading straight for book 2. In a short time I will know if I trudged through this for naught or if it was worth every irritating second.