Crabtree's Ladies: Very Good Writing

Crabtree--proud of Nina Bloom

One of the more tiresome aspects of romances is the triangle. At the end of one manga, the mangaka writes, "I don't like romantic rival story lines." She goes on to explain how she fitted in a new character without making that character a rival. 

I agree! I detest the tension of a competitive ex-lover. 

I'm also not terribly fond of romances that rest on the premise that a couple can only break up because someone cheats. 

Crabtree from Murdoch Mysteries has had multiple girlfriends over the years. The impressive thing about these girlfriends is (1) with one understandable exception, they are consistent personality types: Crabtree likes brassy working women with lots of ideas! (2) the relationships are all fairly decent; they fail most often because of different long-term goals; (3) Crabtree remains friends with the women in the long-run. 

He and Dr. Emily Grace come the closest to breaking up over the third-party. But in truth, the issue is more lack of decent communication. And once the breakup occurs, neither of them can really go back. Later, regarding Lillian Moss's death, Crabtree is able to comfort Emily. 

The one relationship which, thankfully (well, aside from than the murder) didn't work out was his relationship with the mom who had an abusive husband. The relationship is believable--Crabtree is motivated by chivalry to reach out to a woman who is pretty obviously not his type. So the relationship is entirely organic while still being a mistake for the characters. 

Crabtree, of course, eventually marries the wonderful Effie Newsom, who is brassy and hardworking and right on his wavelength.  

Shakespeare's Couples: Valentine and Proteus and Everybody Else

Two Gentlemen of Verona is considered Shakespeare's first play, which supposedly explains why nobody's behavior makes much sense. 

Proteus drops the girl he supposedly loves, betrays his friend, threatens to seduce his friend's woman, and...he's not the villain. Huh?

The BBC version attempts to pull off the plot by making Proteus very young and confused. The Chinese silent film A Spray of Plum Blossoms suggests that Proteus (Bai) was not ready to commit to Julia (Zhilu), making his pursuit of Silvia (Luohua) the final act of a desperate playboy.

Still--the play has not been performed or filmed as often as other plays by Shakespeare.

I think the romantic triangle is exactly the mark of an inexperienced writer. Like killing off a character, the romantic triangle is an easy way to achieve conflict/find stuff to write about. I think writers like triangles (and dead characters) more than audiences do. 

Trolius & Cressida (specifically, the lovers' parts) seems to suffer from the same problem, though it comes near the end of Shakespeare's career. Young, inexperienced writers and aging, exhausted writers might have a great deal in common.

Luckily, we have plays such as Comedy of Errors that show what Shakespeare could really do when he spoofed himself.

Likewise, the best part of BBC's Two Gentleman is not the lovers but the Duke of Milan played by Paul Daneman. He has the ability that look entirely nonplussed by Proteus and Valentine, which possibly sums up the writer's own reactions. 

Why Amy & Sheldon Are Such a Good Couple

Here's your cat. Here's your $20.

I had my doubts about Amy and Sheldon at first--then, I became entirely invested. 

I consider all the Big Bang Theory couples fairly strong--but not for the same reasons.

Amy and Sheldon are so fantastic because they remind me of manga couples. They are slow-burn but not the type of slow-burn one sees on Hallmark and many sitcoms where the couple seem stuck on a circular reasoning hamster wheel: together, apart, close, not quite there, together, apart.  

Amy and Sheldon, however, continually move forward. Like with manga couples, the slow-burn isn't an excuse to keep the audience in suspense. The slow-burn is a way for the couple to figure out what a relationship is all about. 

Amy and Sheldon figure out what it means to compromise over careers. They learn what it means to apologize. They learn how to break up and be friends and get back together. They learn they ARE friends (not simply each other's last resort). They learn how to share interests and support each other's interests (Fun with Flags! Little House on the Prairie! Professor Proton's show!). They even learn how to be intimate. 

The attraction for viewers is that every human, no amount how sophisticated, finds relationships as confusing and complicated as do Amy and Sheldon. Like manga couples, Amy & Sheldon put into words and actions what the rest of us find so confounding.

A great deal of this "putting into words" is helped by Amy (Mayim Bailik) matching Sheldon in terms of desired intimacy (mostly matching) and also, remarkably enough, by Jim Parsons being able to convey Sheldon's enlightened yet old-fashioned Texas boy chivalry. At heart, he is a guy who knows that he is supposed to woo and admire his lady.    

 

A-Z Golden Age Detective Couples: A is for Alleyn & Troy

I recently finished the A-Z list of paperback romances. 

My next A-Z list for this particular blog is Golden Age Detective Fiction Couples. 

Golden Age mysteries (1920s-1950s) produced one of my favorite mixed genres: Romance and Mystery. That combo pack is still thriving today: Castle, Bones, Forever, Miss Fisher. 

Golden Age mysteries not only produced memorable primary couples, the classic plot required--possibly from the publishers--a "sweet young couple" who are usually saved or helped or otherwise brought together during the main action. 

This list will address those couples, starting with A for Alleyn and Troy, a primary couple. 

Alleyn is an interesting example of a detective I like even though his author used him in ways that annoy me. His wife, artist Agatha Troy, is one of Marsh's best delineated characters. She comes across as a consistent personality--diffident, reserved, observant, careful, gently wry--and the marriage comes across in a positive light. As is customary for couples in such series, she and Alleyn are involved in several mysteries together, from Artists in Crime to Final Curtain and Clutch of Constables.

Generally, however, Troy is not a fellow sleuth but an artist. Alleyn is a professional and although, like many British detectives, he gets a tad angsty, most of the time, he treats what he does as a job. Troy's avocation is treated similarly--her artist background does involve her in certain situations but always within the confines of that job.  

(I think the BBC television series does a decent job. Patrick Malahide gives Alleyn slightly more whimsy. Belinda Lang is perfect as Troy. In the series, she has long hair. In the books, she has short, cropped hair. I got a picture of Belinda Lang with shorter hair.

Sidenote: In the lovely world of coincidence, Hugh Fraser--Hastings of the long-running Poirot series and an excellent narrator of many audiobooks--is married to Belinda Lang, who is currently a comedic superstar on Sister Boniface Mysteries. A true Golden Age couple!)  

The Bones of Pride & Prejudice: Why It Has Lasted

On Votaries I discuss how much my mom loved Jane Austen. 

Here I am reposting from 2019 why Austen's most celebrated novel, Pride & Prejudice, has lasted.  

* * * 

There are many reasons why Jane Austen's Pride & Prejudice has lasted, and some of them are unrelated to the actual writing. However, I think the actual writing should get a substantial amount of credit.

A modernized M/M romance version of Pride & Prejudice: Out, Proud, and Prejudiced by Megan Reddaway illustrates why.

Reddaway adapts the locations and characters, specifically the Bennett family, to modern life. The "sisters" are now male friends/roommates sharing a house in a small college town in England. Bingley (Tim) and Darcy (Darius) arrive in the town, where Tim plans to buy an art gallery. The Elizabeth character, renamed Bennett (first name), is attending the local college, where he is majoring in hospitality.

Darius's family home, Pemberley, is now part-family home and part-wedding/convention center. His aunt runs the place (but is not the owner). Darius himself is a lawyer. And the Wickham character is a swarmy guy who attaches himself to a reality cooking show camera crew in order to pick up dirt on people.

Reddaway sticks to the plot points. She also sticks to the character's motivations. Bennett is ticked at Darius for being a jerk in their initial meeting (at a dance club). He acknowledges later that he may have misread Darius's dryly sarcastic comments. He regrets his misreading of Darius's character and his mistaken trust in Wickham. He holds his poor judgment (pride and prejudice) to account for that misreading.

Bennett does engage in an excursion to Brighton (Rosings) where he and Darius go rock-climbing together and begin to form a tentative friendship. It backfires when yes, Darius does separate his friend Tim from Bennett's friend, Jamie, who is romantically holding out for a big wedding day. Jamie's reserve and lack of easy emotional connection make it easy for Tim and Darius to doubt his intentions. (Jamie later forgives Tim in a manner that Bennett considers way too accommodating; Bennett then shrugs his shoulders and allows that both Jamie and Tim will have to figure their relationship out on their own.)

Bennett's friend Charlotte does in fact marry a waffling guy, Callum, who owes Bennett money.

Bennett does visit Pemberley--to work. And he does meet Darius's sweet, quiet brother. And he does begin to question what he actually knows. And yes, Darcy's aunt is a bossy, single-minded dragon lady.

Wickham does try to take advantage of non-brothers Kofi and Leon (Kitty and Lydia). However, in one of the book's hilarious twists, although Wickham's smutty movies (with bad editing) put Bennett and his college advisors at risk, Kofi and Leon are entirely indifferent to what people think about them.

However, the targeted characters are forced to consider how much money to pay out to stop Wickham. Darius does, behind the scenes, help the police get Wickham pulled in on other charges.

And the aunt, Catherine Brackenbrough, does try to get Bennett to promise to never date Darius by offering him a potential internship that he truly needs. Bennett naturally refuses, which naturally gets back to Darius, which naturally results in Darius showing up at the roommates' house.

All the same elements. I concluded that the reason they work--even updated, modernized, and turned into a M/M as opposed to M/F romance--is because Austen's series of events are organic. They may seem contrived when written out separately (oh, sure, Elizabeth/Bennett just happens to show up at Pemberley) but they really aren't. The world of gentry folk was not that big--people did keep running into each other. The world of hospitality--caterers, hosts, etc.--is not that big either, not for a newly graduated college student looking for a job.

Austen created a realistic series of events that still surprise and delight us without crossing the line into pure melodrama and gaping plot holes. Her characterizations support events and events support characterizations. Although we can see how foolish Lady Catherine is to challenge Elizabeth--and then tell Darcy--Lady Catherine is exactly the type of person who cannot see that she is shooting herself in the kneecaps. She misjudges Elizabeth/Bennett. Her sense of offense leads her to reveal how "rude" Elizabeth/Bennett was to Darcy/Darius, who accepts the information as a sign.

Pride & Prejudice truly is a fine work of art. The many, many adaptations--from awful to great--reveal its core strengths. Out, Proud, and Prejudiced takes advantage of those core strengths to produce a worthy tribute. 

A-Z Romances: Z is for Zane and Zhijuan

For Z romance authors, I read a novella and short story. Technically, the second piece isn't romance but as I address below, I found it not only romantic but more religious than the first piece.

The first piece, Sweet Chariot by Carolyn Zane, falls into the genre of Christian romance. It has the merit of being funny (I found it in an anthology Three Weddings and a Giggle) and the set-up does have its positive points: two grandmothers buy a falling-to-pieces motor home and try to go on a road trip with their respective adult grandchildren, who fall in love. 

Unfortunately, like too much religious fiction, the continual references to prayer and faith and God gain a pro forma or performance aspect--an excuse for people to make terrible decisions, place themselves in seriously dangerous situations, leave scrap metal all over a highway, and otherwise behave like people who think God is supposed to save them from themselves. 

The fighting-then-dating couple have fairly good banter. But the relationship is entirely shallow. Arguments about food are left in but the part of the relationship where they get to know each other takes place in the following line: "Lexie and Jake teased and flirted and discussed a vast array of subject matter from politics to religion, from their memories of the past to their dreams for the future."

Yup. That's it. Now they should get married!

They should also supposedly get married because they both learn to focus more on family than their jobs. Unfortunately, these epiphanies are less than believable. Lexie, for instance, blames her phone for distracting her from real values. As someone who ignores her phone and despises social media, I can relate: Phones are bad! 

However, within the story, Lexie uses her phone to do her job. It's hard to see what else she could do. Once the motor home reaches civilization is she supposed to stop being a realtor? Communicate with clients by carrier pigeon? Ignore phone calls about incipient deals? Or will her job problems resolve themselves once she throws "prayer" and "faith" and "God" at them?

The short story is "Lilies" by Ru Zhijuan, translated by R.A. Roberts. It is not directly either romantic (in a couple marrying sense) or religious. In fact, interestingly enough, it seems to be an example of how good storytelling overrides politics since Ru Zhiguan was a supporter of the Chinese Communist Party. 

The two young women in the story see the nineteen-year-old male courier as young and bashful and rather adorable. They both mourn his death. Multiple characters, despite throwing out statements about doing things for "the good of the people," demonstrate appreciation for the individual. The gloss of politics is continually undermined by the narrator's deliberate choices: the young man's awareness of the two women, the married woman's insistence on stitching his shirt and giving up the quilt that, she states emphatically, she made. The story hints at deeper connections, whether the connections are human or social or spiritual.

In the Christian romance novella, on the other hand, the gloss of religion is coated onto the plot yet the end result doesn't feel particularly religious or insightful. Designating characters as prayerful and God-fearing isn't enough to reach either the transcendence of mutual affection or the transcendence of the supernal.       

Shakespeare Couples: Twelfth Night

Despite the disguises, the relationships of Twelfth Night are surprisingly realistic because the personal connections are believable. 

Twelfth Night starring Toby Stephens, the effervescent Imogen Stubbs, and Helena Bonham Carter at her comedic best does a particularly fantastic job in establishing the lead characters' connections.  

Toby Stephens is, to put it mildly, a sexy piece of compact masculinity. In other versions, Orsino is tall-almost-stooping, melancholy and extremely self-pitying. I always wonder what on earth an adventurous, sharp and funny chick like Viola sees in the guy! 

Toby Stephens, however, plays a tautly wound chap who is normally extremely energetic (and witty). He does not so much swoon with love as glower with it, and viewers get the impression, as they should, that his problem is offended pride more than an offended heart. He doesn't really care about Olivia; he's just bored and she's available and he thinks she should like him. He does care about his servant Cesario (in fact, Stephens' reaction as Orsino to Cesario's "betrayal" is gripping and indicates what really matters to him). He is overwhelmingly relieved when Cesario turns out to be female.

Olivia and Sebastian also come across as believable. For one, the relationship seems to be based on Olivia being taken with a pretty boy who chastises her. Arguably, Olivia is simply lighting on the first person who ISN'T Orsino to fall in love with--which is entirely plausible.  

At the end, one can only hope that Sebastian is an adequate substitute for, uh, his sister. 

Shakespeare being Shakespeare, one suspects that the problem of substitution IS Shakespeare's point.