Nothing But Trouble, by Rachel Gibson (review)
Posted: 2012/03/01 Filed under: Literature | Tags: chinooks hockey team, comedy, contemporary, nothing but trouble, rachel gibson, review, sport 2 Comments »I couldn’t resist. Some things are meant to be shared. 
At the end of January, as I was struggling with administrative stuff, I went into the library and borrowed two books on an impulse: Practice Makes Perfect, and Nothing But Trouble. Both had covers with a picture of a couple in suits and coloured, modern lettering, both were contemporary romantic comedies, and both promised to be fun, sexy, and urban. What goes to show how little packaging can mean, is that while I didn’t like Julie James’ book very much, I absolutely loved Nothing But Trouble. Best Rachel Gibson book I’ve read to date, and I had reasonably liked the other ones.
The fifth book in her Chinooks Hockey Team series, Nothing But Trouble features yet another hockey player, and not the least: Mark Bressler has been in the team for eight years, and captain for six. And the Seattle Chinooks have just won the Stanley Cup. Except… Mark has been off the ice for six months, after a serious car accident which has left him with no hope of ever playing hockey again. Right now, he can’t even walk without a stick, or drive. That doesn’t mean he is taking kindly to the Chinooks organization sending him one home care worker after another. So when Chelsea Ross shows up, he is intent of making her quit, no matter how rude he must be to achieve it. What he doesn’t know is that this aspiring actress has been promised a lot of money to put up with him, and that she knows exactly what she needs this money for…
the Stanley Cup
The more I read and analyse romances, the more I realize how hard it is to find the perfect balance between too much conflict, and not enough. If the characters behave too badly with one another, maybe you won’t be able to forgive them, or their “falling in love” afterwards will feel contrived, inexplicable. On the other hand, if you don’t give the characters a good reason for conflict, then your characters will seem shallow, difficult or immature when they fight, dislike or distrust each other. (And if they don’t, then it’s just plain boring.)
Nothing But Trouble is like a masterclass in character conflict. Both Mark and Chelsea have really solid, objective reasons to hate one another in the beginning. It’s so convincing I was just dying to find out how they could ever get over this initial dislike and end up together. I confess I was half-dreading it, since it’s so hard to get right and so easy to botch up. Well, kudos to Ms. Gibson: she made it! The trick is, no matter how obnoxious Mark is to Chelsea at first, we know that part of it is on purpose (he wants her to quit), and part of it is circumstantial (his accident has left him almost suicidal). None of it pertains to his actual personality. So when he finally accepts to have Chelsea around and begins to open up to life again, we believe in the changes it brings about in their relationship.
He walked into the garage, and when he returned, he had a hockey stick in his right hand. He thrust it toward Chelsea. “Derek, you’re going to feed passes to Chelsea.”
“Me?”
“Her? She’s a girl.”
“That’s right,” Mark agreed, and she half expected him to say something sexist. “She’s little and quick, so you better watch yourself.”
- Nothing But Trouble, Rachel Gibson (Avon, 2010)
As for his reasons to dislike her, they’re even simpler: he dislikes who she represents, and what she reminds him of. His dependency, his disability, his diminution. Oh, and she’s a typical Gibson heroine: colourful, girly, cheerful, the kind that men don’t understand but eventually grow unwittingly fond of. Besides his physical attraction to her, he gradually discovers the person underneath both the job and the image. Chelsea has more layers than it seems, and behind her bimbo facade, she knows what she wants and lives by strict ethical standards. I really, really liked her.
Pittsburgh Penguins. Love this logo!
In the book, she’s got this twin with the “good” job, while she is struggling to make it as an actress: I couldn’t help thinking of In Her Shoes. Except in the romance, the more frivolous twin is the heroine… Not a meaningless coincidence in my opinion. Though in fact, Chelsea has little in common with Jennifer Weiner’s Maggie. Sure, she is a failed actress of sorts; but she’s a hard worker, and far from having bought herself fake boobs, she suffers from being typecast in slutty roles because of her natural big breasts… which she therefore wants reduced. An interesting touch, that.
“I’m a better person since you came into my life,” he continued. “I want to be better for you.”
Just like Jerry Maguire, only Mark was hotter than Tom Cruise. Taller too.
- Nothing But Trouble, Rachel Gibson (Avon, 2010)
The climax also met with my expectations―I only held back the tears because I was sitting next to my boyfriend (who was playing a video game). I think it’s amazing for a book to make me cry after it’s made me laugh out loud on so many occasions. Seriously? Best laugh since A Duke of Her Own. Also, Nothing But Trouble is peppered with references to movies and movie celebrities, making the story feel more real. The characters are not abstracted from the reality of our pop culture, and then, an actress is supposed to be a movie freak, right? On a more personal note, you probably know I’m a sucker for romances which remind me of people in my life… Well, yes, oh, yes. This one novel did. Plenty of times. My man is a romance hero, I’m tellin’ ya. 
At last, another great thing about this book which I believe is worth mentioning: the underlying ideas it conveys. Ms. Gibson, you surprised me there… in a good way! The sex is hot, but there is so much more about sex in this book than sex scenes. There is sex talk. Honest, realistic, sometimes funny, sometimes embarrassing sex talk. All throughout this book, I had the distinct feeling that I wasn’t just reading a love story, a sentimental story, but an adult book. And I mean that in the best possible way. I mean it as a book that deals with what makes up a genuine adult life.
Chelsea’s mouth dropped. “You’ve given him the booty?”
“Not yet, but I’m afraid I will.” She pushed her short hair behind her ear. “Did you see his body? I don’t know how much longer I can hold out before I go all Basic Instinct on his ultra-fine behind.”
“Like stab him with a pick?”
“No. Like throw him down and jump on him.”
- Nothing But Trouble, Rachel Gibson (Avon, 2010)
I loved that Mark watched porn and went to strip-clubs (as a bachelor, though, obviously). I loved that he made Chelsea buy a vibrating ring and then she talked about it with her sister. I loved that Chelsea is implied to have had one-night stands. I loved that they used condoms, and when they didn’t, they made sure she was on birth control and both of them were clean. I loved that Chelsea and her sister got drunk to the point of partial memory loss. I loved that Chelsea doesn’t cook. Not for her employer, and apparently not in general. I loved that before Mark, Chelsea has always refused to go or stay anywhere for a man. I loved that her own ambitions didn’t come second to their relationship.
Do you like romances featuring athletes? Have you read all of the Chinooks Hockey Team books? What’s your favourite in the series so far?
A guest blog by Bélier: Faking It, by Jennifer Crusie (review)
Posted: 2011/10/23 Filed under: Literature | Tags: comedy, contemporary, faking it, guest blog, jennifer crusie, review 3 Comments »The third book I sent to Bélier was Faking It, which I’ve already reviewed on this blog. But who’d say no to a second opinion, especially when it is so enthusiastic?
“Faking It is a different breed from the first two novels I reviewed. It’s not a comparison to speak of and I enjoyed Slightly Scandalous and Force of Nature very much, but I think Faking It is my favorite so far.
First off, all the characters were endearing, each of them a little crazy in some way. Well, except perhaps Michael Dempsey, the male protagonist, who mostly acts sensibly and brings sense to a self-managed, fairly stable lunatic asylum. Although hell rides on his tail, in the form of the crazy, money-grabbing ex from hell. Then Nadine is relatively sane too; an angst-free, down-to-earth teenager who dates careers rather than boys so that she can find a way to repay the Goodnight family’s huge debts while being happy. I rooted for her.
Beyond these two, it’s all secrets and self-denial and humanity in all its glory and incredible resilience. And each character might be a turn-off and ends up being a turn-on, each adds a little excitement and a different kind of crazy. It’s a funny thing about it all, about Goodnight women especially : at first glance, almost from the very first pages on, all the problem are plain to see and the causes obvious… in hindsight. I was surprised at every twist and turn, and the whole picture, no spoiler here, made perfect sense of the mess Davy Dempsey walks in and takes on. And, boy, did Matilda deserve a break. Not that she would have let herself have one. But I very much liked the character of this woman with the multi-layered Atlas Syndrome.
The other theme works out just as well; where the Goodnights are women trapped in the shadow of the late patriarch long after him, and stuck with a certain legacy which I won’t spoil, the Dempseys are a dynasty of con men and women. And so Davy works his problems out by crookery, fast-talk and deception, swaying and bobbing and carefully staying within the law. It’s not a character I thought I could relate with, yet I did. With the way he views the world, full of lesser crooks and exciting challenges and fun all the way, his bent ethics and values, I liked him a lot. Although he came in perhaps a bit too much as the problem-solver, almost the knight-in-shining-armor, actually. But this is starting to look rather commonplace in romance novels (from my statistically irrelevant sample of three), to have a perfect or near-perfect male protagonist.
It wasn’t just the characters; I instantly accepted the atmosphere as matter of fact, a delicious world of pretending and, well, faking it. And then there is the writing, the humor, the plays on words, on movie quotes, even video game quotes. But also a deeper kind of humor: the kind that comes from the characters and the situations themselves, and perhaps mostly from a light-hearted, kind view of the world.
And the closet! That classical vaudeville plot device, brought out of retirement, refreshed, rejuvenated, and played to the hilt! If only for her masterful use of the closet, Jennifer Crusie would have my admiration.
I just read a great book. And I know where to find more.”
I actually realized… Though these three books may not be said to be my “favourite romances of all time”, I think I’m the one who likes perfect heroes in romance (ie not all romances are strictly like that). I am used to justifying it by claiming that my real-life boyfriend is perfect, so why would I want to read about fictitious heroes who would be less so? But this calls for a whole blog entry unto itself.
Anyway, I am also interested in knowing whether, in love stories with happy endings written by men (which are often but a part, a subplot or an element in a bigger plot, and therefore do not make the book itself a romance), you have not often met with basically perfect female characters who will fall for some flawed loser male protagonist. Except the difference from romance written by women is that, because such romantic motifs in men’s works are precisely in the background or on the side, because they are not given the necessary room to develop, the relationship appears inexplicable, unrealistic and artificial.
If you are a regular romance reader, do you need the hero to be as good as perfect? Or do you prefer heroes who behave like asshats before groveling before the heroine? Also, don’t you believe that real people can be perfect? If so, why couldn’t fictitious characters be, too?
Bridesmaids (review)
Posted: 2011/09/29 Filed under: Cinema | Tags: bridesmaids, comedy, paul feig, review Leave a comment »Who’s Paul Feig? In 1999, he created the TV show Freaks and Geeks (aka the best TV show featuring high school kids I’ve ever watched, bar none). In 2011, he’s directing Bridesmaids, a movie that’s like a hilarious, crazy version of a chick flick. The kind of movie that even men like, yet what is it but another happily ending love story? Well, for one, it’s a really good comedy. But who said comedy and love were a bad mix?
Once upon a time, Annie (Kristen Wiig) owned a bakery and had a boyfriend. Since her business went under and her boyfriend left her, she’s been sleeping with a jerk of a man, hating her new job and living with hostile English weirdo siblings. Thank God she’s still got Lillian (Maya Rudolph), her best friend. Who just got engaged, and wants Annie to be her maid of honor. Alas, as Annie meets the other bridesmaids, she takes an immediate dislike, tinged with obvious jealousy, to Helen (Rose Byrne), Lillian’s other best friend, who’s younger, skinnier, prettier, richer, and married. Disaster after disaster will strain the women’s friendship, but eventually allow for a final reconciliation and a new, stronger beginning.
So where’s the love element in that? You probably have to watch the movie to find out, though it’s predictable enough that I wouldn’t be giving away real spoilers if I told you. Predictable, and still well done. I know I liked it. Maybe because I’m maxed out about jerks and I want to stick pins in their voodoo dolls. And I totally know why Annie’s first reaction was to run away when she finally meets a better guy… There was something like feminism in that movie!
Now I have to say, Kristen Wiig is amazing (and it appears she also co-wrote the script). Her character is batshit insane, yet so touchingly realistic at the same time. She feels like a real person, much as I would dread being in her vicinity in real life… As far as comedies go, it was a strange, but refreshing cross between crude, outrageous, cringe-worthy scenes, and subtler, quieter, cleverer humour. It works for me.
Seen Bridesmaids yet? Liked it?
Bet Me, by Jennifer Crusie (review)
Posted: 2011/09/27 Filed under: Literature | Tags: bet me, comedy, contemporary, jennifer crusie, review 3 Comments »
On Chi-Chi’s recommendation, I picked Bet Me at the library. That’s why it’s a hardcover, although I hate hardcovers. If you want to make me happy, don’t buy me hardcovers. I can wait until they get reissued in paperback. Anyway, hardcover though it was, this novel kept all the promises I was made.
You could say Bet Me starts with a double cliche: a plain, chubby heroine and a to-die-for hero, who end up together because of a bet. Now you could also say that the reason why such a premise didn’t sit well with me is entirely my problem: I like protagonists who are better than average. And I don’t mean just physically, but Minerva “Min” Dobbs, Crusie’s heroine, also happens to be a conservatively dressed actuary who just got dumped. Ouch. You may think me awful, or full of myself, or vain, but I don’t spontaneously relate to such characters anymore. I’ve never been dumped, I have an exciting, unpredictable life, and I could model with my body (I mean with my DNA; I know I couldn’t actually pull it off).
But… Jennifer Crusie writes romance. Definitely. Meaning that it’s only depressing or pathetic for, like, three pages before the fun kicks in. I’m still not sure how the author managed to make me love a heroine who’s snappish, obsessed with her weight, and “hates men” (although I appreciated the reference to a common accusation thrown at feminists), all I know is that she did. Just like Calvin Morrissey, her hero, we gradually discover what makes her a unique, generous and fun woman. Under the surface, she’s got a whimsical streak, and her concern for her weight is only matched by her love of food. Now that I can understand, being the food freak that I am.
The paperback cover
Moreover, the whole business of eating, weight and looks is actually very well rendered. Far from stereotyping women who believe they’re always too fat, Min is a woman who deals as best she can with the images and discourses on feminine beauty we are all constantly bombarded with. The character of her mother, a tiny woman who is persuaded that her daughter could look like her if only she made the effort, may seem like a caricature. To some degree, it is, and that’s why Bet Me is comedy, not depressing literary fiction. However, the absurdity of the situations and dialogues didn’t stop me from experiencing a painfully familiar feeling. Parents really are the first people who can make you or break you. Min in reality is not ugly or overweight―she just has a crazy mother.
“And then Cal and I go home,” she said, her voice breaking, “and it’s just the two of us, and we laugh some more and hold each other and eat and make love and watch dumb movies and just… be with each other. We just feel good because we’re with each other.” She wiped her eyes again. “That’s all I’d need. The two of us, talking and cooking and laughing. It’s so simple.”
- Bet Me, Jennifer Crusie (St. Martin’s Press, 2004)
Now, if I love being able to identify with the heroine, I also love when I can identify my boyfriend with the hero. A simple detail with a merely instrumental function in the plot can become my reason for going, “Ooooh how cute―pumpkin does the exact same thing!” It happens more often than you’d think, and it did happen a few times in Bet Me. Other than winning me over to the hero’s cause and convincing me that my man is super quality stuff, it also shows Ms. Crusie’s talent to notice and portray all these little things that make up realistic, consistent and in-depth characters. Don’t they say that the devil is in the details?
He turned down the street to Emilio’s, trying to remember what “the edge of chaos” meant. It was something about flipping a coin, something about the edge being the moment when the coin was in the air. The point at which the system was pure potential, about to choose a path. [...] “The place,” the grad student had said, “where the system cascades into a new order and moves from being to becoming.”
- Bet Me, Jennifer Crusie (St. Martin’s Press, 2004)
There is a delicious array of secondary characters to support our two protagonists, from the most obnoxious to the most adorable. It serves a lovely reflection on family and friendship, for once in modern romance siding with the latter rather than the former, or in better words, developing the concept of a chosen family. (Min and Cal don’t want children, yet the epilogue still assures us of their happy ever after.) At last, I couldn’t conclude this review without mentioning Crusie’s signature references to pop culture, and particularly music. In Bet Me, Min is an Elvis Presley fan, and Cal one of Elvis Costello: a thread that artfully winds around the plot, adding playful symbolism to key events.
How much do you need to relate to a novel’s main characters to be interested in the story? Did Bet Me make you want to eat doughnuts as much as it did me? Could comedy be modern romance’s hope to become mainstream? (Boyfriend noticed how often I laughed out loud when I was reading Bet Me, and it seemed to titillate his curiosity somewhat.)
Thor, Rio, Barney’s Version (reviews)
Posted: 2011/06/14 Filed under: Cinema | Tags: action, adaptation, adventure, animation, barney's version, carlos saldanha, comedy, drama, kenneth branagh, review, richard j. lewis, rio, thor 3 Comments »Seen three movies in the past weeks which I thought deserved at least one paragraph each on this blog. Call it an exercise in brevity for someone so prone to rambling as I.
1) Thor
“From the studio that brought you Iron Man.” Something must have escaped me, because I absolutely failed to like Iron Man when I watched it. Now Thor was quite another matter. As my boyfriend would say, I’m probably a typical girl and not enough of a tech geek, but I do like fantasy, mythology-inspired superheroes better than pseudo-scientific ones. As it happens, the whole fantasy aspect in Thor was really well-done IMO, even though my personal tastes didn’t always match those of the costume designer. And yes, the story’s very cliched, very predictable, but who cares as long as it worked? The plot flowed perfectly, with nice touches of humour in the midst of a generally unrealistic context. But the thing that really struck me was how much I enjoyed Loki once he grew a backbone and became the villain, to the extent I almost felt like rooting for him in his final battle against Thor. Plus I am naturally inclined to support anyone who’s got the fashion sense to wear green.
2) Rio
Blu, a domesticated rainforest parrot who’s never been able to fly, goes back to his country of origin to reproduce with the last other blue macaw left. But once in Rio de Janeiro, unplanned adventures await him and his owner Linda, especially since it’s… Carnaval!! A regular good quality animated movie, Rio‘s originality mainly lies in its choice setting which, as the title suggests, goes beyond mere decor to play an actual part in the story. Two of my friends who went there this March assured me that everything was very accurate and well-rendered; moreover, for a person who likes dancing and partying as much as I do, all the carnaval-themed scenes were a lot of fun. Can’t wait to go there for real…
3) Barney’s Version
Barney’s Version is adapted from the prize-winning novel of Mordecai Richler, a Montreal-born Jewish author. Other than it being nice to see one’s hometown through a movie, I felt like this was an honest, but still insufficient attempt at bringing a complex novel on film. “The picaresque and touching story of the politically incorrect, fully lived life of the impulsive, irascible and fearlessly blunt Barney Panofsky,” says Imdb, and what my boyfriend told me of the book, which he’s read and loved, coincided with this description. Unfortunately, the movie itself didn’t. While there is definitely a compelling quality to the storyline, and many evocative scenes, the whole gave an overall impression of promising more than it was delivering. Instead of the colourful, though far from perfect Barney we’re sold, we get a less-than-charming, foolish, typically male egoist. Why any of his wives married him in the first place remains a mystery, and why they left him seems only fair. Not a bad movie, but one which left me seriously pissed off at men.
Faking It, by Jennifer Crusie (review)
Posted: 2011/05/30 Filed under: Literature | Tags: comedy, contemporary, faking it, jennifer crusie, review 5 Comments »You may remember that I had bought books, among which was Faking It, by Jennifer Crusie. Well, let me tell you: what a great way to discover this author! While, once again, coming chronologically second after Welcome to Temptation (the story of Davy’s sister Sophie), it creates a whole, self-sufficient little world of its own. Namely that of art, painting and the ways to make a living of it, whether legally or illegally… Not only is this novel witty, clever and original, it is a perfect example of what I mean when I say that I learn so much through romance. So much trivia to be specific, but you cannot say it isn’t knowledge, or that it doesn’t contribute a great deal to making a story interesting.
Van Gogh's Sunflowers
So we have on the one hand Tilda Goodnight, descendant of a notorious family of forgers, trapped between a past she cannot confess and a frustrating present of painting murals, and on the other hand: Davy Dempsey, raised to be a con man, going one last time for the crooked way after his misguided past caught up with him. Two people faking honesty in an attempt to walk away from dishonesty. Talk about complex circumstances to fall in love…
“According to Grandma, there are two kinds of men in the world, doughnuts and muffins. [...] Grandma thinks you’re a muffin pretending to be a doughnut. Dad thinks you’re a doughnut pretending to be a muffin.”
“And your Aunt Tilda?”
“Aunt Tilda says you’re a doughnut and she’s on a diet. But she’s lying about the diet part.”
- Faking it, Jennifer Crusie (St. Martin’s Press, 2002)
Perhaps because Welcome to Temptation already dealt with Dempseys, this second novel centres on the Goodnight family and its gallery. From Gwennie, now a widow and addicted to Double-Crostics, to Nadine, the teenage daughter of Tilda’s sister and her gay ex-husband, the Goodnights are certainly anything but ordinary. And more power to them! Ms. Crusie belongs to the club of gifted authors who can at the same time imagine completely insane characters, and make them painfully believable. Humour, accuracy, nuance and generosity are only the dominant traits which define her approach.
That was the problem. Once you’d given birth, you never really thought “I” or “me” again. It was always “we”. What’s best for “us”. Even though what’s best for “us” was often lousy for “me”.
- Faking it, Jennifer Crusie (St. Martin’s Press, 2002)
I cannot close this review without mentioning a detail which, because it is so highly unusual in romance, doesn’t look like such a detail to me: the heroine doesn’t come during her first sex encounter with the hero. *gasp!* Does it make the story any less romantic, though? Not one bit, as it is the pretext for much following banter and the hero’s fierce will to prove her that… she’s never again going to have to fake it… What else?
“Nobody’s perfect. Everybody who’s ever loved anybody has had some stuff to get past. So you get past it because you really don’t have any other choice. You can’t leave.
- Faking it, Jennifer Crusie (St. Martin’s Press, 2002)
What’s your opinion on Faking It if you’ve read it? Another book by Crusie you may wish to recommend me? Do you enjoy the trivia around a story, or do you find it distracting/boring?
The Kids Are All Right (review)
Posted: 2011/04/16 Filed under: Bio, Cinema | Tags: comedy, drama, family, lisa chodolenko, review, the kids are all right 1 Comment »
I’d originally seen The Kids Are All Right‘s trailer while at the theatre for another movie, but only when I saw Annette Bening at the Academy Awards ceremony was I reminded that it had seemed fun, interesting, and had made me curious to watch it. I mean, a movie with lesbian parents which both focuses on their specificity (the main plot stems from their needing a sperm donor to have children) and emphasizes their normality? Great!
Indeed, if there’s one thing you’ll remember after seeing The Kids Are All Right, it’s how much like every other parent Nic (Annette Bening) and Jules (Julianne Moore) are. Lisa Chodolenko’s film is not about lesbians; it’s really and only about family. And I happen to be a total sucker for family values… From as far as I can recall, I’ve always wanted to have a family; and it’s only getting worse as I am getting older. What used to be an abstract desire has now become very concrete and real. I’ve got the father. I’ve likely got the city. So when do we start making babies?! It’s a wonderful feeling.
The “kids” of the story, Joni (Mia Wasikowska) and her little brother Laser (Josh Hutcherson), are also typical teenagers. A quality which doesn’t necessarily call forth a very flattering picture; except if you’re like me, if you’re like Lisa Chodolenko, or like her characters, in one word if you like children. (I’m using “children” in a broad meaning here, including young adults who still go to school and live at their parents’.) Children are for better and for worse, and I totally understand people who feel like it’s too much for them at the moment. I’m just not one of them.
As for Paul (Mark Ruffalo), he obviously did think he was one of those, until he meets his biological offspring. And then, smack! he realizes that he’s getting old and he hasn’t got any family of his own. Also, talk about the temptation to get kids who are already almost grown-up, all raised and everything… I said earlier that children were for better and for worse; Paul’s reaction felt to me like an immature desire to have children only for the “better” part of the bargain. So typically male…
My boyfriend, who watched the movie with me, was obviously more sensitive to Paul’s side of the conflict. You bet he was identifying, ha ha. When we met, he would refer to having children as some kind of social pressure which he felt more with each year passing; now he’s totally reversed to a I-want-kids-ASAP mood. It’s so easy when you don’t have to get pregnant, isn’t it? For the record, he also thought that the two main actresses weren’t very believable as lesbians, most especially Moore. I personally thought the script was quite convincing, and just went with it. Not a life-changing movie by any means, but definitely a sweet, original one.
Did you see this movie? What’s the topic that was the most striking to you? Do you want kids?
Recent Comments