Book Review: The Siren, by Tiffany Reisz
Nov. 22nd, 2014 02:51 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
missroseroseMuch like its title character, this book is intelligent, fascinating, frustrating, passionate, immature, and infuriating - sometimes all at once. But I'll say this much for it: it's never boring.
When I read the plot description, I thought it had potential, but I was expecting the two-dimensional placeholder-for-personal-projection characters that are so common in pornographic tales. What I got was an ensemble story populated with real people - smart, broken, yearning, often floundering, but nonetheless struggling to figure out themselves and their lives and each other, and maybe, just maybe, find a moment of perfect happiness in an arbitrary and imperfect world.
It’s unfortunate, then, than the prose is similarly imperfect. The pace bogs down in a couple of places; there's more than one instance where a past event is described, and then later played out in an unnecessary flashback; there’s one secondary character who plays a pivotal role in the climax, but is completely absent until then. Most crucially, the author’s plans for a particular conflict required a reaction from Zach that felt distinctly out of character and melodramatic; this was especially frustrating because that whole subplot could have been excised with little to no impact on the story. (And on a personal/trigger-warning note, the extent of Nora's S&M desires was a little difficult to read. I'm not unfamiliar with the scene and believe strongly in the consenting-adults philosophy, but I still was more on Wesley’s side regarding the results of her dalliances with Søren. Reisz wisely limits these to two plot-necessary instances.)
These are serious issues, and in another book I would likely have quit reading partway through. But Reisz's cast is so dynamic and complicated and fascinating, her understanding of the psychology of attraction and power so keen, that I was willing to forgive the story’s rough edges just to see what they would do next. And while I've read enough sex scenes to be jaded about them at this point, the later ones in this story were different; I cared about the people involved, and that caring gave them an emotional heft that left even me a little hot and bothered.
What kept me tied up: Well-drawn characters who felt true and generally consistent. Strong understanding of the complicated power interplay of attraction, orientation, and situation. Sex scenes with real emotional heft.
What deserved a flogging: Occasional redundant patches in the manuscript. A couple of plot points that felt shoehorned in. Lack of subtlety. A few issues with structure and balance. Repeated instances of tell-don't-show, including several egregious cases of "Character X knew Character Y wanted/was thinking/hoped..." How did they know? What was the tell?
What I'd say if the author blindfolded me and ordered me to confess: Take Zach's editing advice. Trust the story. Show, don't tell. Or to put it in Nora's terms: stop beating your readers over the head. A little bit of restraint would give the experience greater savor.
When I read the plot description, I thought it had potential, but I was expecting the two-dimensional placeholder-for-personal-projection characters that are so common in pornographic tales. What I got was an ensemble story populated with real people - smart, broken, yearning, often floundering, but nonetheless struggling to figure out themselves and their lives and each other, and maybe, just maybe, find a moment of perfect happiness in an arbitrary and imperfect world.
It’s unfortunate, then, than the prose is similarly imperfect. The pace bogs down in a couple of places; there's more than one instance where a past event is described, and then later played out in an unnecessary flashback; there’s one secondary character who plays a pivotal role in the climax, but is completely absent until then. Most crucially, the author’s plans for a particular conflict required a reaction from Zach that felt distinctly out of character and melodramatic; this was especially frustrating because that whole subplot could have been excised with little to no impact on the story. (And on a personal/trigger-warning note, the extent of Nora's S&M desires was a little difficult to read. I'm not unfamiliar with the scene and believe strongly in the consenting-adults philosophy, but I still was more on Wesley’s side regarding the results of her dalliances with Søren. Reisz wisely limits these to two plot-necessary instances.)
These are serious issues, and in another book I would likely have quit reading partway through. But Reisz's cast is so dynamic and complicated and fascinating, her understanding of the psychology of attraction and power so keen, that I was willing to forgive the story’s rough edges just to see what they would do next. And while I've read enough sex scenes to be jaded about them at this point, the later ones in this story were different; I cared about the people involved, and that caring gave them an emotional heft that left even me a little hot and bothered.
What kept me tied up: Well-drawn characters who felt true and generally consistent. Strong understanding of the complicated power interplay of attraction, orientation, and situation. Sex scenes with real emotional heft.
What deserved a flogging: Occasional redundant patches in the manuscript. A couple of plot points that felt shoehorned in. Lack of subtlety. A few issues with structure and balance. Repeated instances of tell-don't-show, including several egregious cases of "Character X knew Character Y wanted/was thinking/hoped..." How did they know? What was the tell?
What I'd say if the author blindfolded me and ordered me to confess: Take Zach's editing advice. Trust the story. Show, don't tell. Or to put it in Nora's terms: stop beating your readers over the head. A little bit of restraint would give the experience greater savor.
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Date: 2014-11-23 01:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-11-23 06:20 pm (UTC)