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cahn3+/5. I loved this book, because it manages to be a romance novel involving two Randian-heros (by which I mean, are awesome business CEOs and good at lots of other things too and terrific lovers and etc.), a Mormon bishop and an ex-prostitute, that manages to be true to both characters and not quite Mary Sue-ish. That is, the ex-prostitute businesswoman, Cassie, does not have a heart of gold, she has the heart of a human being and does a fair amount of humanly stupid things along with the smart ones; and the Mormon bishop is neither a secret guilt-ridden Dimmesdale or a tall dark husky interchangeable knight in shiny armor, but again a human with some human failings. (For example... being Mormon, he doesn't believe in extramarital sex -- which screws him up when he gets horny, too, in which has got to be one of the funniest scenes of the book.)
And wicked points for this kind of thing in a romance novel:
And double, triple points for having that come out of a Mormon Bishop's mouth. Yeah. Awesome!
And wow, bringing out all the favorite Mormon characters from my own life, if my life were a novel. The openly gay Mormon, who has given up relationships to serve what he thinks is a greater good. (And no, that greater good isn't Mormonism, which he is understandably rather angry at, but rather all the people under his jurisdiction who are hurting, including gay kids.) The woman who sees everything clearly in the ward and sometimes has to use her knowledge like a scalpel, to heal. The teenager who doesn't believe but loves his dad enough to go through the motions cheerfully until he leaves town. The dad who knows his son doesn't believe and lets him live his own life. The girl who is stuck in a dysfunctional Mormon family and is trying to get out, not always figuring out the healthiest path for it, but eventually finding her way there. And the community. Oh, the community. (Why yes, have you noticed I'm a sucker for community?) That sometimes has problems and issues, but also friendship, and bonds of love, and working together to solve the problems.
The only thing that really bugged me was that Cassie, who as I've said is a tough CEO ex-prostitute who likes to beat men at their own game, cries about every chapter or so for no very good reason. I cry a lot more than average, but I never cried that much and with the kind of impetuses that make Cassie cry except when I was post-partum. I mean, I know, it's supposed to represent her inner vulnerability blah blah, but it's just too much. (Especially for a CEO type... I can only imagine what sort of reputation I'd have at work if I cried as much as that, and I'm not even management. Or not much, anyway.) Lose the crying.
Note that I do not recommend this book unless at least one of the following applies:
-You like romance novels.
-You are Mormon, or at least interested in reading about Mormons.
-You liked The Fountainhead because it was such a great red-headed trashy romance.
and the following applies as well:
-You don't object to any of the above, even if you don't have any particular predilection for romance or Mormons or Ayn Rand.
(I am Mormon, and do not object to romance novels though I am not particularly fond of them, and I do like the Fountainhead as a trashy romance though find it rather silly as a political tract.)
And wicked points for this kind of thing in a romance novel:
"She has her own [career/money] and if all she wanted was a meal ticket, she wouldn't have stopped being a prostitute. That's a lot more honest than a woman who marries for money."
And double, triple points for having that come out of a Mormon Bishop's mouth. Yeah. Awesome!
And wow, bringing out all the favorite Mormon characters from my own life, if my life were a novel. The openly gay Mormon, who has given up relationships to serve what he thinks is a greater good. (And no, that greater good isn't Mormonism, which he is understandably rather angry at, but rather all the people under his jurisdiction who are hurting, including gay kids.) The woman who sees everything clearly in the ward and sometimes has to use her knowledge like a scalpel, to heal. The teenager who doesn't believe but loves his dad enough to go through the motions cheerfully until he leaves town. The dad who knows his son doesn't believe and lets him live his own life. The girl who is stuck in a dysfunctional Mormon family and is trying to get out, not always figuring out the healthiest path for it, but eventually finding her way there. And the community. Oh, the community. (Why yes, have you noticed I'm a sucker for community?) That sometimes has problems and issues, but also friendship, and bonds of love, and working together to solve the problems.
The only thing that really bugged me was that Cassie, who as I've said is a tough CEO ex-prostitute who likes to beat men at their own game, cries about every chapter or so for no very good reason. I cry a lot more than average, but I never cried that much and with the kind of impetuses that make Cassie cry except when I was post-partum. I mean, I know, it's supposed to represent her inner vulnerability blah blah, but it's just too much. (Especially for a CEO type... I can only imagine what sort of reputation I'd have at work if I cried as much as that, and I'm not even management. Or not much, anyway.) Lose the crying.
Note that I do not recommend this book unless at least one of the following applies:
-You like romance novels.
-You are Mormon, or at least interested in reading about Mormons.
-You liked The Fountainhead because it was such a great red-headed trashy romance.
and the following applies as well:
-You don't object to any of the above, even if you don't have any particular predilection for romance or Mormons or Ayn Rand.
(I am Mormon, and do not object to romance novels though I am not particularly fond of them, and I do like the Fountainhead as a trashy romance though find it rather silly as a political tract.)
