In Indonesia, I swapped a relatively enjoyable travel book for a book titled
The Running Vixen by Elizabeth Chadwick – I know, not a fair deal on face value. All I knew about the book was from the blurb that it is a fictional romance set in 12th century English, an enticing epigram stating "A forbidden love takes England to the brink of war", and that Chadwick is “the best writer of medieval fiction currently around”. I considered exchanging the book for something more my style, but I had promised my friend Kirra that I would give it a try to see if I liked the genre. Bad move. (But nowhere near as bad as Emily Bronte's
Wuthering Heights).
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| The allusion to a vixen, a female fox, is from the main female protagonist's red hair... a feature I think overlooked in this cover picture. More of a blond with red highlights. |
I knew I’d see Kirra again because she lives in Perth. I’m generally a self-respecting and honest guy, and I didn’t want to look her in the eye and say, “Kirra, I didn’t read
The Running Vixen because I thought it was going to be a piece of shit.”
So, I read the book and I was right, and now I’m going to tell her in my blog: Kirra, that book is crap. In fact, if I knew how bad the book was going to be, I probably would have thrown it in a fire to mercy any other readers, and picked another Australian city in which to live and find work just to avoid you. My life would probably be better if we never met, and you owe me the 20 hours back I spent reading that book.
Just kidding, everyone. Kirra knows I’m joking. We talked about the book while we were at a cool Australian hip-hop concert in Fremantle a few weekends ago -- a concert which she suggested I see. 50% ain’t bad, Kirra, especially when you have such a pretentious ass like myself for a friend. And in reality, the book was enjoyable in a "Is the author serious?" sort of way. The dialogue is hackneyed, absurd, cliche, or a combination of the three. Apparently that is why Kirra liked the book, but she didn't give me any qualifiers when she gave it to me. All she said was, "It's a romantic historical fiction. It's good. Give it a try."
I was expecting a slow moving plot, Shakespearean language, and old fashioned courting and swooning. What I got was steamy sex scenes, rape, misogyny, necrophilia, stupid dialogue, and unnecessary metaphors and medieval similes. To add to the silliness of the book, the main protagonist’s first name is the same as mine, adding a weird spin to some of the narrative. Anyway, I wouldn’t recommend the book, but it is not outright terrible.
If you are interested in a thorough review of the story's absurdities, continue reading. I warn the reader that I wasn't going for brevity in this post. (If you are a student doing a book report for
The Running Vixen you can read on but then have your parents send a compliant to the school board). Maybe just read the quotes. Otherwise, this is the end of the post: go find another blog to enable your procrastination, because the stuff below will be a worser... er, a more worse evil than whatever realm you are avoiding. (I'm not saying that to be funny. I mean it. What follow is just a perverse desire to make a chronology of how bad the book was). But I digress... here is a play by play summary of
The Running Vixen by Elizabeth Chadwick (quotes provided in italics; bold words to take note of):
The cool headed but coarse
Adam (De Lacey) returns home as a Man after a long time abroad on a double-secret mission for King Henry. When Adam stays at a neighboring lord’s castle, he timidly confronts his childhood crush,
Heulwen, a red-haired “vixen”. (Heulwen does no physical running at all during the plot; a huge let down if you were expecting that from the title). Heulwen has a short temper partly because she is grieving the “accidental” death of her husband
Ralf Le Chevalier (who was a cheating bastard), and partly because the author Elizabeth Chadwick, obviously not a feminists, portrays all women in this manner. Ralf was a ladies man and though he taught Heulwen the ins and outs of the bedroom (I'm realizing that my puns are just as bad as Chadwick's), he also taught every other lady in the kingdom these talents. For that reason, Adam has a little bit of an inferiority complex:
- Women and warhorses. Le Chevalier had been expert in the art of taming both. Adam only had the latter skill.
The main antagonist,
Warrin de Mortimer, is pursuing Heulwen for a vague, poorly explained reason, but I think it is for the dowry and that Heulwen is a babe. Warrin is creepy (see quote below) but his connections are pretty good, and that’s alright in Heulwen’s eyes after her first marriage. After all, Heulwen doesn't esteem herself that highly.
- "Well then, my future prize." [Warrin] finished securing the pin and lowered his hand, as if by accident brushing the curve of her breast. "My future wife." His voice thickened and his mouth fastened on hers, demanding. Feeling like a whore who had been paid in advance to show gratitude, Heulwen responded with the unthinking expertise taught to her by Ralf, her heart numb and her finger's frozen as she linked them around Warrin's neck.
Eventually, Adam and
Lord Miles, Heulwen’s grandfather, discover that Warrin orchestrated the murder of Ralf. Miles then encourages Adam’s love for Heulwen and desires that they wed. (If this is boring you, imagine reading 376 pages of it).
- Adam shook his head and looked away, but within him the hopes and terrors aroused by Miles' suggestion jousted with each other for dominance.
That previous quote is one of the first medieval wordplay Chadwick inserts. Is she for real, mixing a semi-serious romance with silly play-on-words? I don't know. It makes me wonder how she came to be regarded as the current pinnacle of the historical fiction genre (not enough competition?). I hope I never find out why. Anyway, back to the book.
While Adam and Miles are having this conversation, a loud-mouthed, eavesdropping relation says something controversial and Miles quips:
- With a tongue like that in his head, he's got to learn when to keep it sheathed.
Heulwen, all but contractually engaged to Warrin, starts to develop feelings for Adam after sharing a brief kiss in Chapter 1. These feelings conflict with her desire for a marriage of economy.
- She thought of Adam's dark smile, that quizzical way he had of looking, his dry humour, the gentle pressure of his hands on a horse's flank, or on her waist.
- White-hot physical attraction frightened her. She had sat at its blaze before, watched it go out, and shivered over the ashes.
Adam reveals to Heulwen the gory details about Ralf’s murder and Warrin’s involvement.
- The trap was sprung and she was free but at what costs? She wiped her eyes again and looked at Adam through her wet lashes... Impulsively she leaned over and kissed his cheek.
Accordingly, Adam and Heulwen have an impromptu tryst, which lasts about 30 seconds based on the unbearably-hard-to-read raunchy descriptions:
- Adam groaned and turned his head. Their eyes met, and he lifted his hands to pull her against him... if her breathing was swift, it owed less to panic than it did to desire. She had been fighting the attraction ever since his return in the early autumn, but there was no longer any need to continue the battle. Adam was to take a rich wife of Henry's choosing, and honour no longer bound her body to Warrin...
She joined her mouth to his again, leaning into his taut, quivering body, pushing him, so that they fell backwards together across the bed. It was wild and desperate, frantic on both sides, so hot that it immolated all reasons, leaving only the touch of skin on skin and the exquisite sensation of desire aroused to an unbearable level and then released, flinging them both into oblivion... she licked [her lips] as if still seeking the taste of him in a gesture so sensual that, although he had peaked, he pushed forward again into her body.
Gross. And to be honest, the clause "so hot that it immolated all reasons" is so stupid it actually pisses me off. If I rephrased it, "sex so passionate that it burned up all reasons", one would realize that sex accompanied by lust makes perfect F-ing sense, but that clause doesn't make any. Back to the plot.
Only after their love affair does Adam tell her he’s already asked King Henry for her hand in marriage. Heulwen has a little tizzy about not being asked her permission first, and an even bigger tizzy about being so easy to lay with her future husband. She doesn’t have much time to vent, because Warrin comes crashing in as they lay in bed naked.
- Heavy footsteps pounded up the wooden outer stars, coming at a run, and the door crashed open upon its hinges. Wind-spun snow swirled round the threshold, and over it strode Warrin de Mortimer, his face a blizzard of furious emotions as he surveyed the scene within. "You misbegotten, hell-spawned son of a murdering pervert!" he roared...
That last line, “spawned son of a murdering pervert,” is one of several peculiar allusions to Adam De Lacey’s father in the book, which you should take note of because it briefly comes into play a little later. Anyway, the two meatheads are separated before they kill each other. Later, Warrin and Adam have an official sword fight contest to determine who is telling the truth, since that’s how the truth was figured out back then (logic being that God would protect the truthful one). Adam is the victor, though it’s a close one. He spares Warrin’s life though – obviously, because we aren't even half way through the book yet – but Warrin is banished from the kingdom... Dun, dun, dun!
Lord Guyon, Heulwen’s bastard father, chastises Adam for his imprudent decision about the tryst and gets out this zinger on his daughter:
- "Granted, it was a serious breach of courtesy to go above uninvited, but I suppose your news warranted it, and Heulwen didn't scream rape, did she? If one of the hand maids did hear her cry out, it was certainly not for help."
But Lord Guyon is all bent out of shape because his daughter is now engaged to the man who embarrassed the De Mortimer family – one of his next door neighbors, so to speak. Guyon’s wife wants him to relax so she takes things into her own hands (and a few other places too!
sorry, couldn't resist). At this point in the book, I started thinking that this book is akin to the contemporary romance novels in grocery stores that have sparkly buy-me covers featuring a shirtless Fabio to appeal to lonely and sappy women:
- He would sit on his doubts like a broody hen on a clutch of eggs, and nothing would move him until they either hatched or went stale. How to send them stale: She pursed her lips: after twenty-eight years of marriage, she had several diversions in her armoury -- short term at least. She slid her hands down over his collarbone and chest, leaned round to kiss him again on throat and mouth, let her hair swing down around them, bit him gently...
There are some more sex scenes that end with Adam taking a nap and Heulwen unsatisfied. (Chadwick, what sort of twisted sex life have you had inflicted on you that makes you want to write such degrading crap?). For example:
- He bent his mouth to hers, desire beginning to melt reasons like a flame burning down the wick of a candle, stripping the wax… Heulwen gasped, for this was not what she had bargained for in his tired, weakened state. His weight came clumsily down on top of her and her gasp became an exclamation as he entered her, because she was not ready, and he was eager. She closed her eyes and made herself go as limp as a piece of tide-rolled flotsam. Instinct moistened her body and the discomfort diminished.
More melting "reasons" with desires. Ugh. Surprise... there are more sex scenes:
- For a moment he almost yielded to the surging greatness of his need. He thought about tilting at the quintain. If you went at it too soon, all the power was wasted and you ended flat on your back on the tilt yard floor. It was all a matter of balance and timing -- of controlling your lance. That thought, so irreverently appropriate, made him shake with laughter and the tension eased. An image of the tilt yard in his mind he took her to the bed.
I nearly laughed out loud when I read this passage. I'm not sure if it proves Chadwick is using wordplay in jest or not. She must be, I guess, but it doesn't contrast well with the tone of the novel. That passage above takes place immediately after Miles, Heulwen's grandfather, is laid in his bed chambers semi-conscious from being taken hostage earlier in the day. Two pages later, a glowing Heulwen and stress-free Adam return to his bedside just in time to see Miles fade away. End of that chapter.
Somewhere in the middle of abysmal plot development, there is more needless cliche misogyny just to keep the medieval tone of the book:
- All her brains were between her legs -- which had not seemed such a bad thing last night. A pity she had to open her mouth as well as her thighs.
Then there is this racy poem with a sexual innuendo, a Chadwick original apparently. It is funny, but this kind of smut seems totally out of place like the rest of it:
- I kissed her once / I kissed her twice / I kissed her full times three. / I let her feel my ferret bold / As she sat on my knee / And when I popped him in her ho[le]...
Finally, after a lot of practicing in the bedroom and a little bit of plot development, Heulwen is suddenly kidnapped. This doesn’t make Adam happy, not at all:
- Adam began to feel cold, and it was nothing to do with his wet clothing. The cold sensation in the pit of his belly crystallized into a solid lump of fear.
Remember that thing I said to remember about Adam De Lacey's father? It's here that we find out from Warrin, just before he’s about to rape Heulwen, that Warrin doesn’t want to kill her first. Why? Because he isn’t
all that into having sex with dead people like De Lacey’s father.
- De Lacey's father had been the one to pleasure himself futtering corpses; such a desire had never been the core of his own need.
Let me be totally honest, there is no real reason to have this in the book – it does not come into play in anyway, not even a little. I figure Chadwick planned to include some astonishing fact into the plot from the beginning without knowing what it would be, but when she never accomplished that she lazily added this winner, instead of editing it out entirely.
The ensuing rape is described in a single paragraph, taking place on a dark and stormy night, with appalling “pull up your boot straps” attitude:
- What followed was unpleasant and painful, but not beyond the limits of endurance. She understood a part of what drove him and was therefore prepared to permit him his petty victory. Without love or even a seasoning of lust, the act was meaningless. She closed her eyes and ignored the exultant sound he made as he thrust into her – a dunghill cock treading a rival's hen to mark his ownership.
After the rape, Heulwen escapes from Warrin under her own means. Bullshit, right? She gets raped and then she rescues herself... and this is considered a freakin' medieval fiction. A few minutes late to the party, Adam kills Warrin by sending a lance through his heart after a short chase scene. Now let's take it home for the grand finale:
Heulwen gets preggers and delivers about nine months after the rape, which messes with Adam’s feelings toward the newborn, since he could be a bastard son spawned of a rapist and once mortal enemy. Eventually Adam comes to terms with this possibility and accepts the baby as his own. How does this happen? As a result of Adam instinctively rescuing the newborn child from an aggressive Mastiff that gets loose at an afternoon picnic. The dog is killed as it tries to mangle Adam’s arm. THE END.
Thank you Elizabeth Chadwick for writing the most disturbingly amusing book I’ve read in a long time.
