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Feb. 9th, 2006 07:24 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
which_chickI promised to review the novel I found in Lauren's apartment. It is a work by V. C. Andrews, or so it says. Now, while it pains me to admit this, I have read the following V. C. Andrews titles, though not lately: Heaven, Flowers in the Attic, Petals on the Wind,. If There Be Thorns, and My Sweet Audrina. I've read five novels by V. C. Andrews. It is my considered opinion that I know what her prose looks like. Yeah, okay, that was in junior high, but still. It's not like I don't REMEMBER junior high. Despite my best efforts, it's blade-in-my-soul territory.
V. C. Andrews died some time ago. Her estate apparently kept on writing the novels. Inside the front cover of this sterling effort, it says
Dear V. C. Andrews Reader: Those of us who knew and loved Virginia Andrews know that the most important things in her live were her novels. Her proudest moment came when she held in her hand the first printed copy of Flowers in the Attic. Virginia was a unique and gifted storyteller who wrote feverishly each and every day. She was constantly developing ideas for new stories that would eventually become novels. (blah blah blah)
Since her death many of you have written to us wondering whether there would continue to be new V. C. Andrews novels. When Viginia became seriously ill writing the Casteel series, she began to work even harder, hoping to finish as many stories as possible so that her fans could one day share them. Just before she died, we promised ourselves that we would take all of these wonderful stories and make them available to her readers.
Beginning with the final books in the Casteel series (I've only read the first one of those,) we have been working closely with a carefully selected writer (who shall remain nameless) to organize and complete Virginia's stories and to expand upon them by creating additional novels inspired by her wonderful storytelling genius.
(blah blah blah)
Uh, yeah. So in reality, what you do when the author dies is that you hire some other person to continue writing stuff in her name in the hopes that her fans do not notice. I see. Words fail me, here.
The book in question is Dawn, pitched as "the debut of a dazzling new series!". Yeah, whatever. We have Momma, Papa, Older Brother, Heroine, and Baby Sister. Heroine looks nothing like the rest of the family, which, as all V.C. Andrews readers are aware, is the cue for NOT RELATED TO THESE OTHER PEOPLE. (Happened in Heaven.) They are so poor that Older Brother and Heroine share a bed. There, we get the ever-popular incest theme in potentia but not any actual incest. Momma dies of what is probably consumption. Heroine winds up at fancy boarding school where the rake of the school starts hitting on her, with some success but nothing really damning. In the course of events, it is determined that she really belongs to a wealthy family, little sister of the rake of the school, which gives us the incest card, for those of you who'd been waiting for it to show up. Papa gets arrested for kidnapping her as a baby. Older Brother and Baby sister go off to foster care. Heroine goes to live with wealthy family, where rake continues to hit on her in defiance of incest taboos. She also has a Nasty Little Sister who tries to make her life miserable. She resists the rake's advances, but not enough to prevent anything. He persists. Incest! (Ho-hum) Older Brother shows back up and she gets to really honestly liking him in non-brotherly ways because it's all okay now because he's not really her brother. Whatever. Then she gets dirt on Rich Grandmother regarding her kidnapping which leverages Rich Grandmother into sending her off to New York to be a singer like she's always wanted.
The primary difficulty I had in reading this novel was the strangest feeling that I'd read the book before. The prose styling was competent enough -- I'm not going to go hunt up my old V. C. Andrews novels and compare this to the original. It just... the whole thing felt like a retread, probably because it was.
V. C. Andrews died some time ago. Her estate apparently kept on writing the novels. Inside the front cover of this sterling effort, it says
Dear V. C. Andrews Reader: Those of us who knew and loved Virginia Andrews know that the most important things in her live were her novels. Her proudest moment came when she held in her hand the first printed copy of Flowers in the Attic. Virginia was a unique and gifted storyteller who wrote feverishly each and every day. She was constantly developing ideas for new stories that would eventually become novels. (blah blah blah)
Since her death many of you have written to us wondering whether there would continue to be new V. C. Andrews novels. When Viginia became seriously ill writing the Casteel series, she began to work even harder, hoping to finish as many stories as possible so that her fans could one day share them. Just before she died, we promised ourselves that we would take all of these wonderful stories and make them available to her readers.
Beginning with the final books in the Casteel series (I've only read the first one of those,) we have been working closely with a carefully selected writer (who shall remain nameless) to organize and complete Virginia's stories and to expand upon them by creating additional novels inspired by her wonderful storytelling genius.
(blah blah blah)
Uh, yeah. So in reality, what you do when the author dies is that you hire some other person to continue writing stuff in her name in the hopes that her fans do not notice. I see. Words fail me, here.
The book in question is Dawn, pitched as "the debut of a dazzling new series!". Yeah, whatever. We have Momma, Papa, Older Brother, Heroine, and Baby Sister. Heroine looks nothing like the rest of the family, which, as all V.C. Andrews readers are aware, is the cue for NOT RELATED TO THESE OTHER PEOPLE. (Happened in Heaven.) They are so poor that Older Brother and Heroine share a bed. There, we get the ever-popular incest theme in potentia but not any actual incest. Momma dies of what is probably consumption. Heroine winds up at fancy boarding school where the rake of the school starts hitting on her, with some success but nothing really damning. In the course of events, it is determined that she really belongs to a wealthy family, little sister of the rake of the school, which gives us the incest card, for those of you who'd been waiting for it to show up. Papa gets arrested for kidnapping her as a baby. Older Brother and Baby sister go off to foster care. Heroine goes to live with wealthy family, where rake continues to hit on her in defiance of incest taboos. She also has a Nasty Little Sister who tries to make her life miserable. She resists the rake's advances, but not enough to prevent anything. He persists. Incest! (Ho-hum) Older Brother shows back up and she gets to really honestly liking him in non-brotherly ways because it's all okay now because he's not really her brother. Whatever. Then she gets dirt on Rich Grandmother regarding her kidnapping which leverages Rich Grandmother into sending her off to New York to be a singer like she's always wanted.
The primary difficulty I had in reading this novel was the strangest feeling that I'd read the book before. The prose styling was competent enough -- I'm not going to go hunt up my old V. C. Andrews novels and compare this to the original. It just... the whole thing felt like a retread, probably because it was.
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no subject
Date: 2006-02-09 12:57 pm (UTC)So they could announce her "death" at this point and reprint all of her books with tasteful black borders on the covers and make a great deal of money by killing her again.
(And then find another trunk full of manuscripts and outlines in the attic to cover them for the next 20 years.)
no subject
Date: 2006-02-09 01:36 pm (UTC)oog.
Have you all read Rosemary Rodgers? Equally bad, only hers all have rape fantasies in them.
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Date: 2006-02-09 05:19 pm (UTC)As for rape themes, depending on how it's done, I can work with that suprisingly well. For entertainment reading, I tolerate and frequently enjoy a very wide range of things that make other people go *squick*.