a review of a sort
I just finished reading Liz Curtis Higgs's Grace in Thine Eyes. Even knowing it's Christian romance, which I normally don't really care for (it's not the use of religion that bothers me, but rather how patronising a lot of authors can get in their writing: "you must never do that, God's wrath is blah blah blah"). I'd read the first few pages on Amazon, though, and was intrigued.
Davina McKie is mute and has been since the age of seven, when her brother Will accidentally sliced her neck with his grandfather's broadsword (can't quite see how she survived that and yet her vocal chords were damaged beyond repair, but that's neither here nor there and there aren't any explanations - I suppose it just suits the author's purpose, since the father never quite forgives the son) while fighting for it with his twin brother Sandy. She's forgiven them, and life goes on, although they are ever more overprotective, I suppose as a way to redeem themselves in their own minds. However said brothers are sent to Edinburgh later on in order to hopefully teach them a bit of what life is all about, e.g. not fighting. And so the father decides to send Davina to visit some family on the Isle of Arran so that she may not feel too alone. There is quickly taken by the beauty of the place, yadda yadda, and she is soon invited to a visiting lord's house in order to provide entertainment (she's a proficient fiddler; her father often likens it to her voice - the musical descriptions are gorgeous btw).
She is quickly taken by a guest, Somerled MacDonald (no, not the Lord of the Isles ;), a self-proclaimed rake, who succeeds in seducing her despite her silent protests.
Now, here's where the author walks a very fine line, and she does it rather successfully. In her author's notes at the end she lists the story of Shechem (Genesis 34:2) as inspiration. Means nothing to me (i.e. I don't know it) but in my humble opinion she painted the rape scene poignantly enough, and tells us what's going on in his head as well. All in all, it's a big misunderstanding. He thought she was playing hard-to-get, being cold then hot, and so on. Basically, he thought she was leading him on. She can't very well cry out, call out for help, any of that, and he weighed too much to push away.
Where Somerled redeems himself is right afterward. As soon as he realises what he just did, he completely transforms himself, thinks of the right thing to do (marriage), and when he tells his father later on he refuses to pay any less than the full bride price (later, when the father and sons learn this and confront him, he's prepared to pay any price for her). He's attentive, tries to woo her the proper way, etc. Refuses to treat her with any less respect than she deserves, and later asks for forgiveness for the sacrifice she has to pay in marrying him to avoid scandal.
... and then, the brothers challenge him to climb a peak and he and his father die, pretty much because the twins led them to their deaths (they change their minds after Sir Harry tumbles, but Somerled's death is still on their hands imo). And at the end of the book she considers marrying this old widower, telling him that when her heart is whole again she'll marry him.
I CAN'T EVEN. The end broke me.
Here I was expecting a "ta-da!" moment from Somerled. I was sorely disappointed. THIS IS NOT ROMANCE. My only comfort is believing that Davina will never fully recover from her fiancé's death. Ha. Somerled was the man she saw in her May Day dreams before even meeting him, Mr. Webster, not you.
Overall, a fairly good book that leaves you thinking about, yes, grace and forgiveness - is Davina right to have forgiven Somerled's loathsome actions? Can a rape victim come to love her aggressor? Could she do nothing to prevent that night? Was it God's will that Somerled fell to his death?
I've perhaps read too many "rake" stories to believe loathsome behaviour can never change. Anyone can change, I think, with the right incentive. We were given a glimpse of Somerled's life and thoughts before he landed on Arran at the beginning, and one bit really stuck out to me: "With little effort on his part, a plaintive melody floated through the air. Clear and round, low and masculine, legato notes [from the flute] seemed to rise from the depths of his chest. Nae, from his very heart, though no one was the wiser." Someone who infuses so much of himself, so much passion his into music can't have no heart, can't have no yearnings. Maybe that's naïve of me, but I can understand hiding behind a façade to avoid being seen as you truly are, to ensure you're not hurt.
Davina McKie is mute and has been since the age of seven, when her brother Will accidentally sliced her neck with his grandfather's broadsword (can't quite see how she survived that and yet her vocal chords were damaged beyond repair, but that's neither here nor there and there aren't any explanations - I suppose it just suits the author's purpose, since the father never quite forgives the son) while fighting for it with his twin brother Sandy. She's forgiven them, and life goes on, although they are ever more overprotective, I suppose as a way to redeem themselves in their own minds. However said brothers are sent to Edinburgh later on in order to hopefully teach them a bit of what life is all about, e.g. not fighting. And so the father decides to send Davina to visit some family on the Isle of Arran so that she may not feel too alone. There is quickly taken by the beauty of the place, yadda yadda, and she is soon invited to a visiting lord's house in order to provide entertainment (she's a proficient fiddler; her father often likens it to her voice - the musical descriptions are gorgeous btw).
She is quickly taken by a guest, Somerled MacDonald (no, not the Lord of the Isles ;), a self-proclaimed rake, who succeeds in seducing her despite her silent protests.
Now, here's where the author walks a very fine line, and she does it rather successfully. In her author's notes at the end she lists the story of Shechem (Genesis 34:2) as inspiration. Means nothing to me (i.e. I don't know it) but in my humble opinion she painted the rape scene poignantly enough, and tells us what's going on in his head as well. All in all, it's a big misunderstanding. He thought she was playing hard-to-get, being cold then hot, and so on. Basically, he thought she was leading him on. She can't very well cry out, call out for help, any of that, and he weighed too much to push away.
Where Somerled redeems himself is right afterward. As soon as he realises what he just did, he completely transforms himself, thinks of the right thing to do (marriage), and when he tells his father later on he refuses to pay any less than the full bride price (later, when the father and sons learn this and confront him, he's prepared to pay any price for her). He's attentive, tries to woo her the proper way, etc. Refuses to treat her with any less respect than she deserves, and later asks for forgiveness for the sacrifice she has to pay in marrying him to avoid scandal.
... and then, the brothers challenge him to climb a peak and he and his father die, pretty much because the twins led them to their deaths (they change their minds after Sir Harry tumbles, but Somerled's death is still on their hands imo). And at the end of the book she considers marrying this old widower, telling him that when her heart is whole again she'll marry him.
I CAN'T EVEN. The end broke me.
Here I was expecting a "ta-da!" moment from Somerled. I was sorely disappointed. THIS IS NOT ROMANCE. My only comfort is believing that Davina will never fully recover from her fiancé's death. Ha. Somerled was the man she saw in her May Day dreams before even meeting him, Mr. Webster, not you.
Overall, a fairly good book that leaves you thinking about, yes, grace and forgiveness - is Davina right to have forgiven Somerled's loathsome actions? Can a rape victim come to love her aggressor? Could she do nothing to prevent that night? Was it God's will that Somerled fell to his death?
I've perhaps read too many "rake" stories to believe loathsome behaviour can never change. Anyone can change, I think, with the right incentive. We were given a glimpse of Somerled's life and thoughts before he landed on Arran at the beginning, and one bit really stuck out to me: "With little effort on his part, a plaintive melody floated through the air. Clear and round, low and masculine, legato notes [from the flute] seemed to rise from the depths of his chest. Nae, from his very heart, though no one was the wiser." Someone who infuses so much of himself, so much passion his into music can't have no heart, can't have no yearnings. Maybe that's naïve of me, but I can understand hiding behind a façade to avoid being seen as you truly are, to ensure you're not hurt.