X is for Xie Lian's Series: Couples Who Solve Supernatural Problems

X authors are not the easiest to find, even if one goes beyond American & English authors. 

Mo Xiang Tong Xiu is a great exception! 

So far I have read Heaven's Official Blessing, Vol. 1 and started Vol. 2. The reading is slow--the novels belong to "world fantasy," which, like "world romance," involves EVERYTHING that is going on around the characters. But the denouements are always quite gripping.

The series belongs to a romance/sci-fi/fantasy sub-genre: a couple investigate supernatural happenings. Basically, X-Files. Priest's Guardian series falls into the same category as does the Onmoyoji & Tengu Eyes series. 

I quite like these series overall though they can cross a line into nihilism. I always considered Death Note to be about 1000 times more interesting while Light was still alive than after Light died. That is, part of the draw of these books--whether romantic or non-romantic--is the push & pull, the banter, the constant readjustments between the two main characters. Working together to solve a problem IS the underlying structure.  

Heaven's Official Blessing is a decent addition since the personalities are complementary. In addition, though San Lang seems confident and powerful, a dominant partner, he has his own uncertainties and weaknesses. The characters balance each other. 

 

Detectives and Love: Some Transform, Some Don't

My version of Harriet and Wimsey

Mystery-Romance is one of my favorite sub-genres. It not only provides a mystery, it gives a couple something to do (or, it not only provides a romance, it gives a couple something to solve). 

On Votaries, I am examining characters who transform--or don't. A great many detectives are entirely static characters, such as Nero Wolfe. They don't transform, and that's okay! 

They also, often, don't fall in love. Falling in love suggests change. 

It doesn't, however, suggest transformation. Ngaio Marsh has Alleyn fall in love, but it doesn't transform him. He simply becomes more Alleyn-ish, which is likely true of relationships in general. In many of her mysteries, she supplies the token young-couple-in-love, but they are usually rather throw-away characters (the one delightful exception is Peregrine and Emily, a director and actress). 

The most remarkable detective who transforms through love, of course, is Sayers' Wimsey. Harriet realizes that over time, Wimsey has shed many of his self-protective layers and mannerisms. She came into his life--specifically, her case came into his life--at a point when he was either going to continue his self-transformation or retreat back into a self-protective position and role. 

She had the power to force him outside his defenses. Perhaps, seeing her struggling in a trap of circumstances, he had walked out deliberately to her assistance. Or perhaps the sight of of her struggles had warned him what might happen to him, if he remained in a trap of his own making. --Sayers, Gaudy Night 

Orlando from Charlie Cochrane's Cambridge Fellows Series falls into a similar category: he chooses to dive into a relationship with Jonty despite the outside-one's-comfort-zone requirement. 

The transformations are good for the romance AND good for the mysteries! 

 

Bromance: Murdoch and Pendrick

Murdoch has several close male associates. The Murdoch-Pendrick relationship is especially enchanting, in part because they share interests but also because their relationship comes with loads of plot! 

Murdoch suspects James Pendrick of crimes on a regular basis, while still applauding his inventions. In one of the best season openers, they fly a plane together. 

When Pendrick moves on to producing movies, he bases the first picture-with-a-story on Murdoch (the very first motion pictures were, as Murdoch Mysteries correctly shows, series of moving images: trains, carriages, shoot-outs).  

I wouldn't be surprised if, like Kirk and Spock, Murdoch-Pendrick were "shipped"--Pendoch? Murdrick? In a later episode, Pendrick--who is continually betrayed by his assistants--wonders if he could "change his nature" to get together with the one male assistant who defended him. 

He sadly decides, "No." And he is standing next to Murdoch when he comes to that decision.  

Jessica Fletcher: Rational Good Sense & A Great Role Model

I mention earlier that one of the dumber tropes is, Everything the good guys want is automatically good/right.

Along the same lines, I really appreciate when a character doesn't automatically know who is good/right (as mentioned earlier, Gibbs does but at least Bellisario established this "gift" as an established part of Gibbs' personality early on).  

I have always appreciated that Jessica Fletcher doesn't automatically like the good guys and detest the bad guys. When she defends the student, David Tolliver--creepily well-played by Andrew Stevens--she doesn't do it because she has fallen for him. In fact, she is quite stern with him and makes clear at the end that they are not close. 

With the far more charismatic Dennis Stanton, the moment she finds out about the theft and murder in a hotel, she tells the police about his cat-burglar ways. She doesn't wring her hands over a self-inflicted emotional dilemma: "Oh, he showed up so suddenly and romantically! I know in my heart he is a good guy! How can I give up such a handsome man? He TOLD me that he was innocent!"

She behaves rationally. And Dennis Stanton (unlike David) proves that he is a real gentleman because he doesn't hold her immediate non-waffling level-headed decisions against her. Of course not! 

Jessica is not silly.   

  

Monsters with Lovers--Okay, Vampires Too

On Votaries, I discuss the time-honored tradition of providing the Monster's point of view, a tradition that goes back to the beginning of literature. 

In terms of romance, Monsters sometimes have romantic partners or, rather, romantic interests. In Dracula Tape, Saberhagen uses original Dracula's obsessive interest in Mina to create a real relationship of mutual interest; they worked together in more than one book. Jekyll in Stevenson's book expresses little interest in a romantic partner but just about every adaptation, including movies, gives him that interest. And Grendel's mom--even in the original text--cares for him! (The parent-child relationship with monsters, including Frankenstein's monster, also has a strong tradition.) 

Vampires, of course, have more romantic partners than...veins in a body (seriously: veins are to an extent uncountable). 

I generally find vampire literature, even vampire manga, rather dull. Years ago, when I was still submitting short stories to magazines, I read a "what we are looking for" blurb that stated, "Please don't send us vampire stories!" 

And that was nearly 20 years ago! 

I partly dislike vampire literature because unlike Dracula and Nosferatu, current vampires always seem to belong to cliques/gangs/extended families, and the ensuing politics bore me. The one-on-one stuff is better, but even there, how many angst-y passages about lack of sunlight can one read, sit through? 

That is, I feel about vampire literature the same way I feel about dystopia fiction: I read one or two; isn't that enough? (With dystopia fiction, I read Lord of the Flies; seriously, isn't that enough?) 

However, Demon Under the Waxing Moon by Fumi Tsuyuhisa is worth mentioning because although the demon drinks blood (and sex becomes the substitute, as it does in much vampire erotica), the manga actually has a plot! In addition, the main human character, Minoru, has a distinct personality--and he is generally unafraid of his demon lover. The demon lover also has a rather delightful desire to please his human.  

I will still go for (yet another) office romance first.  

Dumb Trope: Good Guys Are Always Right

One of the dumber tropes is, Good guys are right because they are good. 

NCIS used this trope to an extent with Gibbs, but it wasn't entirely aggravating because Gibbs's "gut" is established early-on as a "given"--and also because Gibbs is capable of doubt. (In the same way, Saitama's incredible power--a "given"--is a source of angst.) 

The trope gets more aggravating when the reader is supposed to accept that a couple is broad-minded and tolerant yet...isn't it amazing how many characters who simply disagree with the couple end up suffering terrible ends? Rather like Victorian "bad" children who choke to death or fall down wells. 

A series that I otherwise liked up to the last book became so vindictive in this way, I become increasingly uncomfortable. When the 2 male characters decided to get married and selected a pizza place for the reception, I thought, "Well, that pizza place better not make the mildest objection--not even being closed that day. Otherwise, it's going to burn down!" 

I've encountered this "God or fate delivered just punishment to the people we despise" idea in religious fiction (which supports growing proof that the fundamentalist right and progressive left are staffed by the same types of people). 

In either case, what is happening is not tolerance or compassion. For that matter, it's not good versus evil. It's not as magnanimous as the former or as big-picture, difficult, and objective as the latter. 

It is rather a run amuck version of high-schoolers-clawing-up-the-social-ladder.  

Great Chivalry Moment: Columbo in "Dead Weight"

So many times in Columbo, Columbo figures out the murderer early on. In "Death Lends a Hand," he figures out the murderer within their first meeting because (1) the man has inserted himself into the investigation; (2) the man's job of private investigator accounts for the claim by the husband that his dead wife had "a clean bill of health"--she supposedly wasn't having an affair; (3) the man is wearing a ring that corresponds to the cut on the victim's cheek. 

In fact, Columbo makes a correct deduction based on strong circumstantial evidence! 

Sometimes, however, his conclusions seem more random. 

"Dead Weight" is a nice exception since Columbo doesn't immediately pinpoint the murderer. He is cautious, in part because of the suspect's reputation but also because he is investigating based on a single eyewitness, and eyewitness testimony is notoriously unreliable.

And yet...he investigates anyway. And when he investigates, he is thorough, even to insisting that a crate be reopened (see image above). He listens closely to the eyewitness and takes her seriously. He withholds his judgment of accuser and accused until he has thoroughly examined the case. He later points out to the eyewitness, who struggles with self-doubt, that he trusted her more than she trusted herself. 

Wonderful chivalrous and objective role model! 

The Transformation of Leonie from These Old Shades

On Votaries, I am examining characters who transform/don and discard disguises. Women in disguise are a common trope in romance. 

Leonie from These Old Shades doesn't change in personality. She does transform from girl-dressed-as-boy to girl-dressed-as girl.  Justin Alastair, Duke of Avon immediately identifies her true sex. His friend, Hugh, takes a little longer. By the time Alastair delivers Leonie to his sister, a number of people in Leonie's life have already seen through his disguise. 

That is, the transformation is not like Viola's in Twelfth Night, the ultimate revelation that she actually is female. For Leonie, giving up her disguise means she must accept a change in roles.

Leonie weeps bitterly when Alastair gently informs her that she will stay with his sister and be introduced to womanhood. In the long run, Leonie is comfortable with the transition. In the short run, Heyer captures the pain of change, whether due to circumstances or age.  

Heyer's triumph is that Leonie remains herself: honest, active, a little bloodthirsty, and utterly devoted to Alastair. She learns to dance. She enjoys "dressing up." She learns that she is pretty and enjoys her prettiness. 

She sheds her disguise when she accepts the inevitability of change. She does not shed her fundamental character.   

The Non-ness of Pericles

Pericles, Prince of Tyre is one strange play. 

Although I think that Shakespeare was capable of writing bad plays, in this case, he likely only wrote half. I surmise that he wrote the second half since that is the half that actually has a plot. However, even the part with a plot reads exactly like a "fixer" came in to make the play actually producible. 

In fairness, lots of exciting stuff happens. But it rambles--it reads as if someone tried to create an epic but the end result is similar to the Anne of Green Gables: Continuing Story movie, in which Anne almost but doesn't quite do anything. Pericles might marry a young woman sleeping with her father...but doesn't. He might settled down in a country he saved from famine...but he doesn't. He might stay in the kingdom where he is shipwrecked...but he doesn't. 

With such a lack of focus, it's hard to pin down any relationship that actually goes anywhere at all. 

I suppose the primary relationship (in the second half) is between Pericles's daughter, Marina, and Lysimachus, who meet precisely once before the denouement. The relationship strains credibility, mostly because Marina--who is sold to a brothel at the age of 14--retains her virginity by...delivering speeches to men. 

Yeah, right. 

The play is sentimental, moralistic, unbelievable (even by Shakespeare's "hey, let's have fun!" wacky standards). 

Again, as pure spectacle, it wouldn't be boring, but for the purposes of this blog, the relationships are mere passing references. Pericles's wife, with whom he is reunited at the end, is mostly famous for being dumped overboard when the sailors think she is dead. That's it. 

These couples are a world away from Katherina & Petruchio or Beatrice & Benedict.  

Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder: Really?

A common trope I rather dislike is the trope of the disappearing significant other. 

The idea is that a couple is dating. They are still figuring out their feelings. Then, one member disappears on a business trip or into a work project or to another country or to visit parents. Sometimes, the significant other announces the event beforehand but quite often, the vanishing act is unexpected. The first member, the one who was less sure, realizes, "Oh my gosh, I really do love this person!" 

The trope isn't entirely useless. It shows up in Cherry Magic between Tsuge and Minato. However, in that case, it is truly more of a plot point than a crisis. The crisis in the relationship comes later when Tsuge confesses that he can read minds (and Minato reacts far more normally than Kurosawa did to the same revelation from Adachi--though Kurosawa's reaction is hilarious). 

Likewise, Kurosawa and Adachi's separation just when they've started dating creates some tension, which is beautifully resolved (that letter!) but everyone knows about the separation going in. 

What is less believable or bearable is when the vanishing act is used to force feelings I'm not entirely sure a character feels. In Real-Time Fever, Shizuka goes home to tend to his father. Kurosaki, who is something of a playboy, is forced to confront that he wants a full-time relationship with Shizuka--.

Sure, when people don't get what they want, they can get quite possessive. It's one reason that auctions and eBay are so effective for sellers. It's one reason that car dealers say things like, "Oh, it will be gone tomorrow." Desperation, a feeling that one is going to lose out, a sudden flooding of "I want" emotion can swamped the rational part of the brain. 

What happens when the significant other does comes home? For that matter, what happens when the relationship moves from high emotion to everyday life? 

In truth, in reality, absence can break or almost break a relationship--as Only the Ring Finger Knows demonstrates. The heart doesn't get fonder. It gets more self-protective.   

Transformation and Disguise in Palace of the Omega

Ilia, an omega, is sent to Hanu to marry the young king, Khalid. The young king is 10 years old but forms a friendship with Ilia and determines to eventually make him his consort. 

The plans are derailed when the king's brother Zayn carries out a coup. Both Khalid and Ilia are presumed dead after one is supposedly killed on a journey and the other jumps from a cliff.  

They find each other 8 years later and they have naturally undergone changes. Khalid's fundamental serious and charismatic character hasn't altered, but he is older and much taller. 

Ilia undergoes a change not in personality--he is still somewhat sarcastic and a bundle of concentrated intent--but in attitude. Though he starts out cynical and indifferent, he grows attached to Khalid for his youthful and innocent earnestness, for his devotion to Hanu, and for his total acceptance of Ilia as his consort and equal. Ilia becomes a believer in something. 

The character development is quite believable since it takes place over time and after personal interactions. 

The series also includes a disguise--namely, Khalid becomes the leader of the rebels without telling others his identity...except they aren't that surprised when he reveals himself...which amuses Ilia to no end. 

Good couple in a story with decent external and internal arcs! The transformations--quite a lot of them--make sense, and the characterizations remain consistent.  

 

Couples in Much Ado about Nothing

Much Ado about Nothing proves that Shakespeare was aware of and capable of creating a relationship of equals. 

Benedict and Beatrice are so well-matched in terms of intelligence, wit, and independence that various retellings of the tale, from Branagh's magnificent and lush masterpiece to Shakespeare Retold's lovely modernization with Sarah Parish and Damian Lewis, do not need to "fix" the relationship to make it modern. Beatrice and Benedict are entirely comprehensible to us. 

Hero and Claude are less likable--of which truth I think Shakespeare is well-aware. If Claude's behavior--shaming her at her wedding--wasn't so reprehensible, Beatrice would have no reason to demand that Benedict challenge Claude. He would have no reason to take her part. 

The problem isn't the anger and jealousy that Claude feels. Shakespeare, as always, is dealing with entirely recognizable human emotions. The problem is, Why would Hero take him back? 

Shakespeare Retold leaves the matter open. And even the play veers away from the youthful idiots to the couple that draws us in. 

One of the best couples in all literature!  

V is for Vivacious Voigt and a Vital Romantic Hero

Cynthia Voigt's paperbacks are usually teen novels. However, she wrote an adult novel Glass Mountain which is a modern (for the time, 1990s) screwball comedy in the Cary Grant and Clark Gable (It Happened One Night) tradition. 

In fact, the protagonist, Gregor, is, as Castle would say, "ruggedly handsome" rather than strictly good-looking. 

The book is delightful! It is the story of a butler/valet who is trying to land himself a rich wife. He is a romantic who falls in love but thinks he is trying to work the system. 

Voigt relies almost entirely on show-not-tell to make clear to us that whatever Gregor may believe about himself, or say about himself, he is a good guy and worth investing in:

1. Like Darcy with Elizabeth, he is attracted to Alexis from the beginning. 

He doesn't believe she is beautiful. He does acknowledge that she dresses wrongly for her "Renaissance" look. But he is aware of her and not entirely indifferent from Day 1. His attraction grows. 

2. He is bowled over by her intelligence, understated wit, and interests from Day 1. 

3. His "plan" does not involve him inviting women to outings he doesn't enjoy himself. 

He and Alexis share interests if not taste. 

4. He is old enough, 33, to not mistake titillation for actually interesting things.

His boss, Theo, is another great writing example of show-not-tell. He isn't horrible or bad (and the book ends quite nicely with him back in the arms of a woman who possibly truly cares for him); he is, however, as shallow as ditch-water. 

Gregor's exact motivations for his deliberate plan (to marry any rich woman) are never entirely defined (other than that he is more romantic than he realizes): revenge at a particular class, disillusionment, cynicism, despair? 

He does see some of himself in Theo. But he is being unfair to himself. Theo quite definitely mistakes titillation for "coolness," like a boy who, maturity-wise, has never grown beyond high school. (As one point, Gregor marvels at the women Theo is able to attract, but Theo has a kind of random generosity that makes him whatever the women want him to be: Gregor is more complicated, and Alexis will more than be able to handle him!) 

5. He honestly respects women. 

He is kind to Theo's mother, waiting for her to finish her sentences. He is careful, almost from the beginning, with Alexis because he quickly surmises that she can run rings around him and only doesn't because she is diffident and doubtful of her own powers. He doesn't use her weaknesses--such her apologies--against her. 

Whatever Gregor believes about himself, the reader finds him worth investing in--and Alexis is delightful. 

For a reformed bad boy...or maybe a reformed Darcy...or maybe a reformed Rochester...Gregor is a more than decent addition!  

Joseph of Old and His Partners

The Bible states that Joseph in Genesis married Asenath daughter of Potipher. This Potipher is not Joseph's first master but rather a priest in Egypt. Nevertheless, various writers have paired Joseph with Potipher's daughter--like Snow White and her wicked stepmother, Asenath and Potipher's wife are in competition for Joseph. 

At least one version puts Joseph with Potipher's wife--after Potipher dies, of course, and she has undergone various trials. 

From The Torah.com which tells

 the story of Joseph and Asenath.

There's a great many possibilities, in fact, since Joseph is the original guy-who-pulled-himself-up-by-his-ability-to-interpret-and-plan. A potential father-in-law could be supportive or cautious. 

However, the relationship, no matter how romantic, will always pale in the face of the more powerful and important relationships: Joseph and his brothers. The wife might inspire Joseph; she might witness the events. But it's hard to see any inherent drama in the relationship--

Which hasn't stop writers from trying!  

 

Translation by Eugene Woodbury Available

Eugene completed a number of translations, most notably translations of Twelve Kingdoms novels. He understood that a translation is itself an art--not something that can be left to a machine. A translation needs to capture the tone and pacing of an original--as well as its allusions, even jokes!

In the past few years, he completed translations of Ranpo Edogawa's Boy Detectives Club books.

The first translation he made, The Space Alien, is now available on his blog.

The year is 1953. The Korean War is winding down. The Cold War is heating up. In 1952, the United States tested the first hydrogen bomb. In 1954, Godzilla will stomp onto the world stage. UFOs are appearing all over the world. And in Ranpo Edogawa’s latest young adult novel, five flying saucers zoom across the skies of Tokyo.

A day after that alarming incident, a woodsman stumbles out of the forest to report the landing of an alien spacecraft in the mountains southwest of Tokyo. A month later, Ichiro Hirano’s neighbor goes missing. He then reappears as abruptly as he vanished, claiming he was kidnapped by a mysterious winged lizard creature—

The same lizard creature that is now stalking the pretty and talented sister of Ichiro’s best friend. What in the world is going on? What do the aliens want? These are the kind of questions that only master sleuth Kogoro Akechi and the Boy Detectives Club can hope to answer.

Bromance, Sister Style: Brenda and Captain Raydor

Brenda and Captain Raydor (Sharon) meet in The Closer. They are frenemies since Captain Raydor works in Internal Affairs and takes issue with many of Brenda's actions. The two women acknowledge, quite frankly, that they don't like each other. 

However, Captain Raydor has the objectivity to put forward Brenda for the position of police chief or commissioner. She admires Brenda even if they are not best buddies. She later protects Brenda or, rather, gets Brenda to protect herself during a lawsuit. 

In a very cute moment in Season 6, Brenda's mother refers to Sharon, Captain Raydor, as Brenda's friend. Captain Raydor treats the moment as the "treat" or present that it is. To Will Pope, she repeats, "My friend Brenda."  

It's a great example of a relationship that avoids the "all women must cry at Beaches" label on female friendships--it has all the down-to-earth loyalty and intelligence and job-focus of male chivalrous relationships.  

Quite appropriately, Brenda and Sharon are sometimes "shipped"!  

Couples in Midsummer's Night Dream: Not That Romantic

Midsummer's Night Dream can be absolutely hilarious. 

But not because the lovers are terribly likable. I don't think this lack of likability is a mistake on Shakespeare's part. He was fully capable of creating likable lovers. Despite the far greater social stigma, Katherine and Petruchio are delightful. 

But the lovers in Midsummer's Night Dream are kind of jerks. And they bring up the uncomfortable possibility that romantic feelings are entirely arbitrary and significant others entirely replaceable. Although everyone ends up at the end with the significant other that everyone started out with, that pay-off is little more than a contrivance. 

I suggest again that Shakespeare was entirely aware of what he was doing. One appealing aspect of Shakespeare's plays is how many genres they fall into. Philosophy? Sure. Historical reenactment? Sure. Family drama? Sure. Horror? Sure. Romance? Sure. Raunch? High-jinks? Sure. Sure. 

Screwball comedy?  

Okay! 

Midsummer's Night Dream feels like Shakespeare took Romeo & Juliet, which he wrote about the same time, and  turned such emotional excess on its head. You want angst? Heh heh heh. The fairies will give you ANGST. 

“Lord, what fools these mortals be!”

The best version I've ever seen EVER was a televised version of a live "Shakespeare in the Park" starring (I'm not making this up) William Hurt as Oberon. You can find it below (the quality isn't so great). I've never laughed so hard in my life. 

Touchingly enough, the one couple who aren't totally mocked is Bottom and Tatiana. At the very end of the play within the play, he has a moment of greatness as an actor--and all due to spending a night in the otherworld, with the queen of the fairies.

1982 Midsummer Night's Dream, Part 1  

1982 Midsummer Night's Dream, Part II 

 

Disabilities in Romance

I recently wrote about Izzy from Voigt's Izzy-Willy-Nilly. A young woman who loses her leg, she worries that she will never have a boyfriend and marry. The fear is not the author's imposition. It is the natural fear of a young woman from a particular social background. 

The book got me thinking about physical disabilities in fiction. Generally speaking, I don't always find them terribly realistic. Far too often, they seem to involve the protagonist feeling as Izzy does followed by the secondary protagonist, the lover, reassuring the first protagonist, "No, no, it was never a concern!" 

Really? Never a concern? Seriously? Yeah, that makes absolutely no sense. It's rather like books where one protagonist purports to love the soul of another. The love is so abstract, it seems kind of valueless. After all, the difficulty and wonder of love is the reality of the physical, everyday experience.  

The manga Love in the Palm of His Hand is far more realistic (so far--Volume 3 comes out in April). Keito, who is deaf, worries that his disability will make life difficult for his boyfriend. Fujinaga worries that he can't learn sign and that his presence will keep Keito from being comfortable in a group of signing friends. They have various mishaps with communication. Keito's brother is less than supportive of their relationship. Both young men worry about Keito being able to enjoy Fujinaga's stage acting. 

What is impressive is that signing (referenced by the title) is not a solve-it-once-because-the-relationship-is-so-perfect event. It is part of the entire relationship. Fujinaga's over-the-top stage acting style has lost him film roles. Yet that same physical expression fits with what he wants to do in the long run. And it enables him to quickly comprehend and enjoy communicating with his boyfriend. 

Disability is used NOT as "see, the lovers overcame something--hurrah" but, rather, as a way to explore how a relationship functions between two distinct people.   

Frenemies as Lovers

Black Sun's protagonists start as as enemies. In fact, Leonard is the prisoner of Jamal, a trope that many publishers and readers shy from. I find it at least more honest than some frenemy arrangements, in which the "hostage"-taking is purely emotional (one member of the couple feels indebted to the other). 

However, this type of frenemy relationship works best in historical romances. The current trend of plots where modern-day protagonists form relationships with sociopaths, I admittedly find a tad nihilistic. 

I prefer my frenemies to be rooted not in emotional enthrallment but in personality differences. Leonard and Jamal are different but complementary. In a more modern setting, so are Minato and Shizuma from Therapy Game Restart. 

Minato in the "tacky" shirt

Shizuma bought.

Minato is smart, sharp-tongued, wary, self-aware, uncertain, quick-tempered, and dogged in his commitment. Shizuma is mellow, easy-going (despite being a hard-working and dedicated veterinarian), understanding, and easily romantic. 

Although their relationship is far more fraught with ups and downs than the brothers' relationship (Minato's brother is dating Shizuma's brother), it has grit--and believability. 

Frenemies in romance is best not as a state of continual uncertainty--but as a state of continual negotiations.

Uki Ogasawara's Black Sun

I am reviewing romance "paperbacks"--that is, romance books that do not fall into the "acceptably literary" tradition. 

I love Austen and Heyer and Bronte. 

But I also love romances that don't necessarily fall into the category of so-called Great Literature.

I've reached "U" authors, and I admit to being somewhat stymied. Not many "U" authors at all, let alone in romance! 

I gave myself permission to go with first names as well as last names and to go to manga (which generally speaking, I have been reviewing separately). 

Black Sun by Uki Ogasawara is one of my favorite yaoi manga. One reason is that the characters have distinct personalities and retain those personalities through the 2 volumes. (One problem I note with romance is when characters become instantly "cute"--and follow a script--the moment they fall in love.) 

Below is character analysis from one of my earliest posts on this blog:

Jamal and Leonard's seemingly unlikely compatibility in Black Sun is highlighted by their easy physical "banter."

Character development plays a role here. Despite his spiritual and idealistic nature, Leonard is more than capable of keeping up with Jamal physically. Leonard may have a sweet and ethereal disposition; his desire for touch, for affection, has been a fundamental aspect of his personality from childhood. 

Jamal's larger-than-life persona at first evokes hero-worship from Leonard. But Jamal doesn't want to be set on a pedestal (it's so boring). He provides Leonard with a down-to-earth reality that Leonard never anticipated and finds incredibly restful.

At the end of Black Sun, Leonard still retains his quiet, Gilly-like nature. But he has learned to gently and cleverly tease Jamal back.