Review Catch-Up: "Blue Diablo" by Ann Aguirre

[megwrites]

Title: Blue Diablo (Corine Solomon Series, Book 1)
Author: Ann Aguirre (AnnAguirre.com)
Genre: Urban Fantasy
Page Count: 316
Publisher: ROC





Basic Plotline: When Corine's ex, Chance, shows up at her antiques shop in Mexico he wants her to use her power to read an object's past by handling it to find his kidnapped mother. She agrees on the condition that he'll turn his preternatural powers of luckiness to helping her unravel a mystery from her own past. Agreement in place, Corine follows Chance back, but finding his mother is going to be difficult and might just get them killed!

The Positives: While my positives are going to be far fewer than my negatives for this review, there are positives.

The big plus for me in this novel, and the reason I decided to pick it up, was that I liked that it was non-vampiric urban fantasy that focused on a power that doesn't get a lot of exploration. Corine is a "handler" - meaning she can see where an object has been by touching it. I was interested when I found out that this power came with a painful consequence for her. Each time she reads an object, it burns her hands. I wish the author had explored this more and perhaps played around with the interesting possibilities that come along with this power. I think the author took the obvious route and that saddened me. I can think of a lot of interesting twists that might come along with "handling".

The main character is smarter than a lot of urban fantasy heroines I've had the misfortune to read about. She wasn't Too Stupid To Live, which pleased me greatly. While I didn't always like or engage with Corine, I didn't wish for her to die. That is always a plus.

The plotline goes at a fairly steady pace, though it is somewhat slow in the beginning. Once the action starts, however, events proceed at a quick pace and I appreciated that the author did not slow down the action and solved the problem she presented at the beginning of the book quickly.

This is a good airplane/beach book. It is not particularly intellectually taxing, which is my other reason for choosing it. After some of the heavier reads I had gone through, I needed a break. However, I cannot say I would recommend it if there were any better choices around.

The Negatives: I wanted to like this novel, but I just couldn't. It hit too many of my pet peeve buttons when it comes to this genre and did not have nearly enough positives to make up for it being very cliche and typical of the genre in terms of characters, plots, settings, and worldbuilding.

The writing was uneven and unsteady. Dialogue was a particular problem, because I did not get a particularly strong sense of characters through their words, and at times the dialogue skirted "as you know Bob" territory. Example:

Chance's gaze kindled with realization. "They're trafficking women. According to what I read about the sex trade, Mexico is often the first point of entry from the East. Sometimes the victims remain there, where they're put to work in an Asian themed brothel."

The worldbuilding was rather weak. There are allusions and hints of communities of those with gifts (called "talents"), but this is never really explored besides Corine going to an online message board. There is apparently a system of mentor-mentee in this community, and Saldana (predictably) instantly becomes an ally, mentor, and friend to Corine even at the risk of his career as a law enforcement officer.

There were many interesting, unexplored spaces. The book is, essentially, about warlocks and other evil talents working for drug cartels, but at no time do we see inside of these drug cartels. The author says in the acknowledgements that the use of brujas by cartels is based at least partly in fact, and I would liked to have seen the inside of a cartel from an urban fantasy perspective.

Indeed, the inside of a drug cartel at all would be a rather interesting move for any author. On a tangential note, American fiction and media (movies, TV shows) like to use cartels as convenient, interchangeable villains (usually of color) who can be relied upon to have lots of nameless people with guns that will present a big (but not insurmountable) problem for our (usually) white protagonists. They're shown as a blandly ruthless pestilence, well armed but not particularly bright. Everything from Burn Notice to this novel to many an action flick has done this, and it occurs to me that almost none have bothered to get an insider look at these ready bad guys and whether they're anything like what American media has painted them - nor is it well explored how American greed and consumption not only keep them in business (in the case of drugs and often guns and human trafficking) but help create the systemic conditions that allow them to thrive.

The plot itself, while competently paced, was predictable and part and parcel of why this book does not stand out from it's genre. It was formulaic, starting with a heroine going about her business and then presented with a problem (and a love interest) that begins a series of events that usually takes about a week to get through in which there's a lot of action, amateur sleuthing, use of powers, and romantic tension. Basically, it can all be summed up with "wackiness ensues". It wraps up with a big fight, after which everyone is set neatly in their place, safe and sound, and that's where the story ends.

The book's greatest weakness and failure, as with almost all of the mainstream urban fantasy being put out there (save a handful of precious, beautiful, extraordinary exceptions) is in it's heroine and the narration that heroine employs to move the audience through the story.

Blue Diablo is, like so many others, told by a heroine who narrates in what amounts to one epically long monologue. This monologue is obnoxiously self-involved, involving a lot of navel gazing and introspection on things that do not merit introspection and the interrupting of important moments while the protagonist tells us about their quirky quirks, fears, hopes, aspirations and dreams as though, somehow, this makes them a Special Snowflake and inspire sympathy in the readers.

Along with this self-centered monologue comes a materialism that personally sets my teeth on edge as a reader and writer in this genre. In this particular book, I came to hate the phrase "hippie chic". I got the impression I was supposed to consider Corine as free-spirited, fun, sassy character because she wears peasant blouses and skirts with sandals. There were often excessive descriptions of the character's outfits, and some mentions of clothing took me completely out of the story all together. Like this, for instance, which takes place in a scene in which Corine is on a "date" with Jesse Saldana, who is essential to their quest to find Chance's mother, Min:

"Thanks." I tucked it into my handbag, a gorgeous beaded creation I'd bought at Mundo E.
(Aguirre, 103)

As a reader and writer both, I found that (and many other places in the book) an inopportune and bewildering place to mention the quality and provenance of a handbag. Why does it matter to the plot? What about this is supposed to give me a sense of atmosphere or endear the character to me? If the answer is because I'm female and of course women all naturally care about handbags and shoes and flirty peasant blouses, I find myself sorely disappointed. I am a woman, I have and always will identify strongly female, and these are not my interests. Why should they be, by virtue of my possession of a vagina?

If there are any urban fantasy writers out there, take note. At least one reader of the female persuasion out there is sick and tired of hearing heroines gab on and on about their fucking wardrobe choices. Please do not take time out of the apocalypse to talk about your shoes, thank you very much.

Along this same vein of materialism in the writing, this novel involved an inordinate amount of brand name dropping. To quote:

We took the I-35 south and ate lunch at a Carl's Jr. in Von Ormy because we wouldn't leave bunch in the car and I couldn't be persuaded to eat at any other fast food place. What can I say? I love those big juicy burgers…

Then we found a PETCO on the southeast side of San Antonia and bought some basic supplies, such as a tiny stuffed bed, a leash, and a squeaky pizza that I liked more than the dog. We sure enough received some strange looks when we asked Butch what kind of food to buy. He preferred Hill's Science Diet Lamb Meal & Rice Recipe. (Aguirre, 211)

The character of Corine did not read any differently than the hordes of self-absorbed, flatly heterosexual, clothing-obsessed heroines I've read about in urban fantasy. Those things which initially made her interesting to me were soon erased. Initially, I liked Corine. I was especially impressed the fact that she had left a partner who was causing her harm, had the strength to set up in a completely different country (complete with learning the language, local customs) and initially resisted, quite strongly, any thoughts of ever getting involved with her ex again. I was pleased when she leveraged her help to get something she wanted, which was help in exploring and avenging her mother's murder.

Then, unfortunately, the character's reasons for resisting her ex-boyfriend devolved. Originally, I was fascinated and excited that perhaps, this once, I would get to read a novel in which a female protagonist's ex comes back into the picture and she does not get back together with him and that she remembers that she left this man for a very good reason (in Corine's case, she truly did have plenty of good reasons to leave). Alas, this was not that novel. In the end her reasons amounted to emotional neediness:

Was it unreasonable of me to want Chance to out me first? The way he blew hot and cold comprised my chief objection to resuming our relationship. With that dance, I thought maybe he'd chained, but now i stood in the kitchen with a burned hand and no help. i knew he was worried about Min [his mother] and wanted to be ready to move on a moment's notice. I got that, but i hated he hadn't asked if I was okay after all we'd been through in the last twenty-four.

Shit. Maybe I was just high maintenance.

Even the subplot concerning Corine's mother's murder became overwrought and absurd. The audience is reminded in every single chapter that Corine's mother died in a fire and that's how she got her powers. I went back and counted. There is a reference to it in every single chapter of this book as though it is a button the author can press to cause the audience to dole out sympathy like gumballs rather than writing the character to act and think in ways that will themselves interest an audience.

The other characters in the novel were similarly ill-rounded. Chance, the ex-flame in question, is surprisingly blank at moments. Most of what we see and experience of Chance, as an audience, comes through Corine and through the lens of Corine's emotional neediness. He is overall sympathetic though there is little to him that does not come from Corine's narration and not his own actions and words.

The competing love interest was slightly more interesting, but badly used. Jesse Saldana comes across as a convenience rather than a character. He is, as all love interests are, muscular, masculine, sensitive in his way, and evokes instant flirtation and lust in the heroine. He is also immediately attracted to her, even in circumstances in which it makes little sense. In this case, Saldana is a police officer and Corine is increasingly implicated in several crimes.

The supporting characters followed this trend of flatness and convenience. Chuch and Eva, the couple with whom Corine and Chance stay, felt calculated to be that amusing, lightly-bickering married couple that you see on TV. The ones who snipe at each other lovingly, but you know they adore each other underneath it all. I didn't really get a picture of them as people who existed outside of being in a position to help Corine and Chance when they needed it. Nor was I comfortable with how far their generosity went in helping our heroine.

As for the romance, which seems to be a de rigeur part of all urban fantasy these days, was a terrible weakness over all. Neither did I appreciate that Corine resists Chance for "blowing hot and cold" while she herself does the same thing, getting close to him and then making out with Jesse Saldana. Their entire relationship seems to amount to two people who want to have sex and have a pathological inability to have A Rational Adult Conversation about anything, which is the sign of a weak romance as far as I am concerned.

On a nitpicky note, I do wish that the author had not named one character "Chuch" (which I kept misreading as Church) and another Chance. It lead for some confusing mix-ups and the naming of a character who's super power is luck as "Chance" evoked a lot of eye rolling for me.

I did not, overall, enjoy my experience of this novel and do not think that I will be going out of my way to pick up the sequel.


CoC Score: 7. The novel does feature a pretty good ratio of CoC's to white characters. Technically, most of the speaking parts "on screen" are CoC's. Chance, Chuch, Eva, Jesse, Min, and Twila are all CoC's. Min is South Korean and her son, Chance, is at least half-Korean (his paternity is a subject of debate and mystery in the book). Eva, Chuch, and Jesse are Latino either wholly or in part. Twila is described as being Black. However, there was a white-centric story going on. Especially given that most of these people seem to exist to help Corine - especially in the case of Eva, Chuch, and Jesse Saldana.

I was also uncomfortable that the narrator, who had lived in Mexico, mentioned more of the dangerous, dirty, poverty stricken parts of Mexico than anything. While I understand that every nation does have it's crime problems and Mexico is genuinely struggling with drug-related violence in many places. However, I felt uncomfortable that a white narrator was telling us this because it seemed - to my mind - to feed somewhat into this idea of Mexico being dangerous, dirty, poor, pathetic, and decidedly Other. I would have liked some contrasting views or insight from Mexican characters.

The author bio states that Aguirre lives in Mexico, and since I am not personally familiar with Mexico, I am loathe to second guess her descriptions and portrayals of it because I cannot point to anything specific. But to my mind, there was something of a white-gaze, white-centricity issue.

Gender Score: 5. There was, as with most urban fantasy, a very real gender imbalance. Aside from the protagonist and Eva there are no female characters that are on screen for a very significant amount of time. Those the female characters do have agency, there is a focus on the men of the story above the women, even with a female narrator. Most of Corine's focus is on Chance, Jesse, Chuch or other men.

GLBT Score: 0. There are no GLBT characters or situations in this book. I didn't feel that this had to be the case, either. While different communities and cultures react differently to queerness, queer people exist all over the world. There was no reason that not even one person was GLBT. The only thing close is the mention of "Tranny Alley" in the zona when Chance and Corine go to investigate the red-light district in search of Min.

Ablism Score 0. Another zero that I can't handwave away. PWD exist all over, no reason for nothing and no one to even be mentioned in this novel.