Review: "The Becoming" by Jeanne C. Stein

[megwrites]

Title: The Becoming (Anna Strong Chronicles, Book 1)
Author: Jeanne C. Stein (JeanneStein.com)
Genre: Urban Fantasy
Page Count: 304
Publisher: Ace




Basic Plotline: Bounty hunter Anna Strong finds herself turned to a vampire after a job gone wrong, with Revengers - those who hate vampires - on her tail and a sexy doctor to guide her. Then her partner, David, is kidnapped. She must used her newfound abilities and navigate the world of vampires to rescue him before it is too late.

The Positives: As a book, The Becoming is very, very lean. Which is good, because if it had been longer I would have quit.

The protagonist, Anna, is more mature than a lot of other urban fantasy heroines that I've met. She has a sense of morals. To my relief, she was not obssessed with her clothing, looks, or other details such as that. Though, to my great sorrow, she too is one of the many urban fantasy heroine who is obsessed with cars and owns a completely impractical but expensive car.

The plot itself moves forward very quickly, taking place inside just a handful of days. It didn't waste time in getting from point A to point B. In fact, the book is, in a way, all plot and nothing else. I think the biggest positive was that the things that annoy me in other novels had been toned down quite a bit.

Of course, for all that was toned down, there were other, bigger issues that slammed in the face. So I'm afraid the positives will be quite scarce.


The Negatives: For all that the book didn't annoy me, it didn't delight me either. It fell very flat in a lot of the key areas that I look for in a book.

I'll mention this first, and will discuss it later in the scoring section, but if you have triggers concerning sexual assault/rape, do not read this book. Because not only does it portray a rape, but it delves into a whole lot of nasty territory and does not handle the subject matter well at all.

The characters all came across very flat and bland. This is a very whitewashed, upper middle-class novel with very little culture or even to go along with it. Anna is sensible, but not very individual nor is she the clever, quickwitted heroine I've been waiting for. For a book written in first person, Anna has very little self. There's a sort of blankness to her personality that made her less of a character and more of a camera to observe the things around her. None of the other characters really popped from the page, except perhaps Avery, and even he became less and less enjoyable to read as time went on.

Her relationships with anyone other than Avery are completely back burnered, even her friendship with David - the guy she is trying to save - takes a backseat to what's going on with Avery.

As plot went, such a quick pace didn't quite suit the book well. Anna goes from not knowing what's happening to being a Super Vampire Chick in a few days - and that felt very forced to me. Not to mention that there isn't any proper exploration of the forces that are working against Anna. Even in a first person novel, it's possible to show that.

There are the typical "people who hate vampires and want to kill them" group that goes around and seems to be irrationally harassing these poor, misunderstood people who just drink a little blood. There's also the completely cliche group of old vampires who have important positions and great wealth.

The vampire lore here isn't anything special. I saw nothing I hadn't seen in dozens of other books. Furthermore, a lot of the lore doesn't make sense. The vampires are fine with sunlight because they got that way over generations (by doing what? It's never explained), but garlic actually does affect them.

The ultimate plot twist of the novel failed for me, because I saw it coming. The reader is not supposed to, because the reader is, like Anna, supposed to be under Avery's spell and think he's the intoxicating, romantic, mysterious, powerful vampire lover. The back of the book clearly sets up a love triangle between Max (who could be nicknamed Sir Not Appearing In This Novel because he has like ten lines and shows up in two chapters), Anna, and Avery.

There are far too many clues scattered in the complete skankiness of the relationship between Anna and Avery to let you know that Avery is actually a lying bastard and a predator - this making the plot twist fail.

The only redeeming thing was that at least she went right after the bastard and did the sensible thing in killing him. I had to give her that. However, the ending wrapped up in a way that was sloppy without being smartly unsatisfying. The mystery of "Casper" (what the hell was the point of him in this book?) is left hanging, and Anna is left with her cravings.

It felt like the book got cut off rather than having a deliberate ending.

I can't say I'd recommend this book to anyone, and I certainly don't think that I will be reading anything in this series or by this author ever again. That's just how squicked and disgusted I was.


CoC Score: 2. This book features no main characters of color and hits a lot of bad buttons, race wise. If you've had your fill of subtle racism and white privilege, or just have some blood pressure issues, I would suggest going nowhere near this book. Because you will want to hit something with a hammer. I know I did.

There are some Mexican characters (like Culebra) who show up long enough to look menacing (because of course all those people of color are dangerous, nasty people) and then fix the white heroine's problems and take care of the white guy (because of course, they're just gonna help some random white American people who show up and throw some money at them) and then go away.

Like most books (especially those written by white authors), this book doesn't describe race unless referring to someone who is non-white. White people are just "a man" or "a woman". Because white is what's normal, dontcha know. [/sarcasm]

The parts that seemed especially bad to me were:

In referring to a waiter named Jorge:

His acceptance of my order as nothing out of the orindary is another confirmation of the wonders of beach life. no raised eyebrow, no frown of confusion to mar that wonderful, dusky-hued Latin face. (pg 39)

But then she describes her boyfriend Max:

But add to that the allure of tan Latin skin, dark hair, and eyes the color of the ocean in the morning (pg 65)

I picked up a very strong racial-fetishizing vibe from these two statements, especially since she never again mentions that Max is or isn't Latino and there is certainly nothing in his characterization that would indicate he's not just a white guy with a tan.

Then we come to her feelings about an an entire country:

Mexico is not my favorite place. There's the heat, dust, poverty and a ridiculous exchange rate. Not to mention the pollution that periodically closes down the beaches right at my front door. (pg 148)

Yeah, because America does not have dusty, hot places where people are living in poverty or anything. Because our exchange rates have always been the most sensible.

I'm glad that the entire country of Mexico could be summed up so neatly in two sentences penned by an overprivileged white American woman. I'm sure the residents of the country will be glad to know their home is actually a terrible place because it isn't comfortable for white people.

Well, that is until the heroine needs something from Mexico because she can't go to a hospital elsewhere (god forbid she drive out of San Diego or across state lines or anything) and then suddenly, she's willing to be courageous and face all those mean, nasty Mexicans and throw some money at them to fix her friend. *eyeroll*

And then this statement about the housekeeper at Avery's place:

She's young, twenties maybe, and beautiful in an exotic way. Her shiny black hair hands straight to her shouldres, fracming a thin face with huge, dark eyes and a generous mouth. Hispanic/Asian mix, maybe, or Eurasian. (pg 243)

Wow, she didn't just content herself with the classic Asian = Exotic fetishization and racism. You know, the kind that Kim Harrison enjoyed throwing around in "Dead Witch Walking"?

Oh no, she went for a whole new level. She established a pattern of fetishizing Latino/Hispanic people, then exoticized Asian people (because all Asians look alike. Because there's no difference in Chinese or Korean or Indian or Malaysian or anything like that!) and added a new category that I hadn't heard before "Eurasian".

I find it very interesting and saddening that white people are so obsessed with knowing what precise race someone is even in casual interactions. It isn't enough to know that they're not white. Oh no, we have to know "are you Chinese or Japanese?". We have to know specifically, if you're bi-racial, what your racial pedigree is.

Because apparently we white folks can't handle it if we don't know exactly how to stereotype you. I mean, if we can't tell whether you're half-Pakistani and half-white rather than just a white guy with a real good tan, we might have to treat you like we treat white people! We might have to respect you as being just as real and worthy of consideration as white folks are!

Oh, white people, when will we (yes, me included especially!) stop failing so tremendously when it comes to race?


GLBT Score: 3. A gay friend of the protagonist is mentioned in passing as having been beaten up once outside a bar for being gay. The friend doesn't get mentioned again. No other GLBT people, issues, or mentions appear in the book after that. Rank heterosexuality, complete with gender squick, abounds.

Gender Score: 3. Proof that women can write books that fail at gender. The book doesn't even pass the Bechdel test (not really).

There are exactly four named female characters in the entire thing. Dena, the housekeeper. Marianna, Avery's dead wife. Gloria, the bitchy supermodel girlfriend of Anna's partner David. And our heroine, Anna. Only two of those speak to Anna.

When Dena and Anna do speak, they talk about Avery, basically.

When Gloria and Anna speak, it's clear that the tension between them is because of David and because Gloria feels Anna is a threat to her romantic relationship with David.

The other two females are Anna's mom and grandmother, who don't have names. Other than that, it's all boys all the time. Anna's attention is only focused on Dena in the context of their relationships to Avery. Anna's attention is only focused on Gloria in the context of their relationships to David.

This is the most male-centric book I've read in a long, long time.

The sexual assault that takes place in the book is graphically described, and ends with the heroine "enjoying" the assault as she is being turned into a vampire. While I'm willing to allow a little leeway with something when we're talking about magical properties being involved, I got very angry and more than a touch queasy when Anna, after her experiences, says:

It seemed very real. And it strengthened one terrible, nagging suspicion growing in the back of my mind. Was it really rape? And if it was, why am I not feeling what I should be? (pg 26)

Now, I realize that there are a lot of rape survivors who experienced physical orgasms during their assaults and who are left wondering if this makes it less of an assault, if it means they "really wanted it". Every one - male or female - who experiences the horror of a sexual assault reacts differently. And yes, many do wonder if they're reacting "the way they should be".

Alone, this passage might not squick me, but soon after that, her partner David says:

"Maybe," he says softly. "But my injuries are just physical. What he did to you is more than that. He violated you, for god's sake. Can you ever really recover from something like that?"

Great. Learned helplessness being preached by a man who is supposed to be a good friend.

I quite nearly put the book down at this point. I am so, so fucking tired of the "eternal victim" trope when it comes to the portrayal of the survivors (yes, survivors, not victims) of sexual assault. I'm tired of this idea that once someone gets raped or assaulted, their entire life is all about being a victim and they will never move past it.

Yes, sexual assault exacts a terrible toll on those who are unfortunate enough to experience it. And yes, it does change things. But it doesn't mean that the rest of your life you're a crying, helpless, ruined mess of a person who can never do anything again.

With support, people can and do recover, heal, move on. Yes, the scars stay with them, but they go on to have happy, healthy, fulfilling lives. The assault does not remain the only important fact of their existence.

But this is the passage that clued me in to just how bad this novel was going to be (and also made it clear to me that Avery was either the world's most douchebag doctor or a potential bad guy):

I remember Donaldson worrying at my neck until...the intense, breathtaking, wondrous pleasure of the experience floods back. My body tingles with the memory even now.

Stop it. I give myself a mental thump on the head. you can't do this.

Of course you can, Avery counters. You just remembered how it was. And that was with a man who wasn't even trying to make it good for you. Think of what you do with your hands and body to give pleasure to your boyfriend. Then increase it by one thousand percent and you have an idea what magic you can work. (pg 57)

Seriously, Jeanne C. Stein? Seriously? This is the guy you were trying to pass off as a romantic interest on the reader? This is why your plot twist failed. Because anyone with a brain who did the math could see that this guy was a giant mysogynistic douchebag.

Dr. Avery comes to her house - oh, and by the by, the research that this woman did on doctors must have been from Gray's Anatomy because anyone in the real world would be surprised to see their doctor actually bother to show up in their hospital room to read their chart and say "take some meds" before fucking off, much less their place of residence - hours she's been released after a vicious rape and starts talking to her about how good her rape was and how she can give pleasure to her boyfriend and how great her sex life will be now.

Really? In what universe does this make Dr. Avery a charming man? In which universe does this make me think that the following sexual escapades Anna has with Avery are anything but a power hungry predator taking advantage of a woman in an extremely vulnerable state? For anyone who asks that question, Avery's eventual evilness comes as the least surprising plot twist in history - and the frequent sex in between becomes rather disgusting.

If the racism doesn't get you, the sexism will. I can't believe this has already become a series. Ugh.

Comments

[quivo.livejournal.com]

Aaaand looking at the comment just below, I think you should do yourself a favor and order it now. *pats*

[fiction-theory.livejournal.com]

Thanks. I'm going to load up on Good Books now because I definitely need something to get the taste of rank, bitter fail in the first degree out of my mouth.