Review: To Charm a Naughty Countess by Theresa Romain - Love, social anxiety and Aspergers
To Charm a Naughty Countess came to my attention thanks to a smartbitches review (and the ensuing discussion in the comments section). I was intrigued by a historical romance novel that reverses the usual gender roles - the innocent virgin is a guy and the sophisticated playboy is a woman. But I was even more fascinated by the notion of a romance novel where one of the leads has Asperger's Syndrome.
It isn't something that I've touched on too ofter, here or on any other social media, but over the years, I've made peace with the fact that I'm most likely somewhere on the autism spectrum. A lot of my experiences - and my struggles - certainly line up with Asperger's Syndrome symptoms. I've learned to cope with it, figured out ways to try to compensate for it, but in a lot of ways, it's still a struggle.
Which brings us to To Charm a Naughty Countess.
For starters, the title is really quite deceptive, since while there is a countess, the novel isn't really about charming her, nor is she particularly naughty. But I imagine that a more accurate title wouldn't sell as many copies. You'll see why in a moment.
In 1816, which went down in history as The Year Without Summer, Michael Layward, the Duke of Wyverne, faces a huge problem. In spite of his best efforts, his land isn't bringing in much money, leaving him on the verge of financial ruin. Determined to save his dukedom, he decides to try to marry a woman with money - ASAP. But while his title would draw no shortage of candidates for any other duke, Michael has a reputation as a madman due to his eccentric behavior and social graces of a bull in a china shop.
Enter Caroline Graves ("Caro" to friends), the countess of the title. As a wealthy widow, she has certain freedoms many noblewomen didn't - like ability to take whatever lover she wants without worrying about her social standing. When Caro was young, she and Michael had a romance that, without going into spoilers, didn't really pan out. When Michael comes to London looking for a wife, she offers to help him - and help him figure out the intricacies of early 19th century social mores in the process. But Caro soon discovers that the love (and lust) were still there, and helping him would be more complicated than she was prepared for.
Now, according to author Theresa Romain, Michael's issues stem from anxiety. And we certainly see his discomfort at the ball and other events, and he does suffer panic attacks. But having read the novel, I have to agree with the people in the comment section - anxiety doesn't explain everything.
But Asperger's very much does. Throughout the novel, a lot of Michael's experiences struck a familiar cord. He has little patience for his servants attempts to be polite and proper, urging them to "speak plainly." He is uncomfortable when pulled out of the routine of running his dukedom - to the point where it drives him up the wall. He has an ability to focus on topics that pique his interest and pursue them with passion and persistence. He has trouble grasping implications and insinuations that drive the social interactions between (and relations among) the members of the English nobility - but explaining it clearly and logically helps him to at least understand the basics. When trying to apply Caro's lessons, he has to actively think through every step. When he realizes that he wrong Caro, he was so seized by the impulse to make it right that he didn't stop to think that, hey, it's not necessary to do it in front of a large group of people. And when, during an early scene, he becomes distracted by the inner workings of a lamp during a social event - to Caro's mortification - I could practically feel tweelore cringing in sympathy.
(Let's just say that I've done something like that. More than once)
Whatever Romain may have intended, I think that she wound up capturing a man with Asperger's Syndrome. I'm not nearly familiar enough with the genre to know if that's the first novel to tackle that sort of thing, but I imagine it doesn't happen that often.
Which brings us to the next question. The source of Michael's "madness" aside - is the novel any good?
To which I would say - yes. But it's not great.
Every romance novel lives and dies by the strength of its central romance. We have to want the main couple to get together. And the big part of that is a believable romantic connection. And I'm not entirely sure the novel pulled it off. I mean, I get what drew the characters together. Caro was quite clearly in lust with Michael, and one does get a sense that she' intrigued by the aloof, stubborn man who wears his heart on his sleeve. And of course Michael was drawn to a beautiful woman who didn't shun him, didn't judge him, and who was willing to help him even after he screwed up repeatedly (it's a precious quality in a significant other, when you are dealing with what Michael is dealing with). And Caro did take his virginity.
I can see the connection. I can see the foundation for a relationship. But I'm not sure I saw love, necessarily.
Then again, I did wind up rooting for Michael and Caro, so Romain definitely did something right.
And whatever else may be said about the two, Romain definitely succeeded in making them into complex characters with believable motivations and personality. She also did a great job creating a memorable supporting cast - Josiah Everett, a wit of noble birth who befriended Michael, the coldly practical Miss Cartwright, Lord and Lady Tallant (a charming couple and friends of Caro who are pretty much shippers on deck for her and Michael) and the hilariously forthright Augusta Meredith, who pretty much tol Michael point-blank if she wanted to bang him (under the not-entirely-unreasonable assumption that he would appreciate her straight-forwardness). Romain does a good job of painting the scene and the atmosphere. She does a great job with the dialogue and witty exchanges - which is important to me, since games of wit is one of the things I tend to look for in historical fiction. And there are lots of lines and exchanges that are funny in a nice, subdued way (like the part where Caro explains to Michael that she thinks he has an awesome ass and that, yes, ladies do talk like that)
I also appreciate the fact that, in To Charm a Naughty Countess, love doesn't magically solve everything. The ending makes it clear that Michael still has to deal with anxiety, and that social situations are still a struggle - he just became better at managing those things. It's realistic - which, like I said, I appreciate.
All and all... If you are curious about the novel's depiction of Asperger's Syndrome (and social anxiety) in fiction, by all means, check it out. But as purely a work of fiction - it was a perfectly enjoyable way to pass the time, but I'm not sure I would necessarily urge people to rush out and get it at first opportunity.
I am kind of curious about the sequel, which, according to the preview in the back of the book, stars Everett and Meredith. Based on what I've seen in the characters in this novel... I wouldn't mind seeing more of them.
---
The review copy was checked out from the Chicago Public Library. It's available on sale at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, their respective affiliated e-readers and, most likely, a book store or library near you.
It isn't something that I've touched on too ofter, here or on any other social media, but over the years, I've made peace with the fact that I'm most likely somewhere on the autism spectrum. A lot of my experiences - and my struggles - certainly line up with Asperger's Syndrome symptoms. I've learned to cope with it, figured out ways to try to compensate for it, but in a lot of ways, it's still a struggle.
Which brings us to To Charm a Naughty Countess.
For starters, the title is really quite deceptive, since while there is a countess, the novel isn't really about charming her, nor is she particularly naughty. But I imagine that a more accurate title wouldn't sell as many copies. You'll see why in a moment.
In 1816, which went down in history as The Year Without Summer, Michael Layward, the Duke of Wyverne, faces a huge problem. In spite of his best efforts, his land isn't bringing in much money, leaving him on the verge of financial ruin. Determined to save his dukedom, he decides to try to marry a woman with money - ASAP. But while his title would draw no shortage of candidates for any other duke, Michael has a reputation as a madman due to his eccentric behavior and social graces of a bull in a china shop.
Enter Caroline Graves ("Caro" to friends), the countess of the title. As a wealthy widow, she has certain freedoms many noblewomen didn't - like ability to take whatever lover she wants without worrying about her social standing. When Caro was young, she and Michael had a romance that, without going into spoilers, didn't really pan out. When Michael comes to London looking for a wife, she offers to help him - and help him figure out the intricacies of early 19th century social mores in the process. But Caro soon discovers that the love (and lust) were still there, and helping him would be more complicated than she was prepared for.
Now, according to author Theresa Romain, Michael's issues stem from anxiety. And we certainly see his discomfort at the ball and other events, and he does suffer panic attacks. But having read the novel, I have to agree with the people in the comment section - anxiety doesn't explain everything.
But Asperger's very much does. Throughout the novel, a lot of Michael's experiences struck a familiar cord. He has little patience for his servants attempts to be polite and proper, urging them to "speak plainly." He is uncomfortable when pulled out of the routine of running his dukedom - to the point where it drives him up the wall. He has an ability to focus on topics that pique his interest and pursue them with passion and persistence. He has trouble grasping implications and insinuations that drive the social interactions between (and relations among) the members of the English nobility - but explaining it clearly and logically helps him to at least understand the basics. When trying to apply Caro's lessons, he has to actively think through every step. When he realizes that he wrong Caro, he was so seized by the impulse to make it right that he didn't stop to think that, hey, it's not necessary to do it in front of a large group of people. And when, during an early scene, he becomes distracted by the inner workings of a lamp during a social event - to Caro's mortification - I could practically feel tweelore cringing in sympathy.
(Let's just say that I've done something like that. More than once)
Whatever Romain may have intended, I think that she wound up capturing a man with Asperger's Syndrome. I'm not nearly familiar enough with the genre to know if that's the first novel to tackle that sort of thing, but I imagine it doesn't happen that often.
Which brings us to the next question. The source of Michael's "madness" aside - is the novel any good?
To which I would say - yes. But it's not great.
Every romance novel lives and dies by the strength of its central romance. We have to want the main couple to get together. And the big part of that is a believable romantic connection. And I'm not entirely sure the novel pulled it off. I mean, I get what drew the characters together. Caro was quite clearly in lust with Michael, and one does get a sense that she' intrigued by the aloof, stubborn man who wears his heart on his sleeve. And of course Michael was drawn to a beautiful woman who didn't shun him, didn't judge him, and who was willing to help him even after he screwed up repeatedly (it's a precious quality in a significant other, when you are dealing with what Michael is dealing with). And Caro did take his virginity.
I can see the connection. I can see the foundation for a relationship. But I'm not sure I saw love, necessarily.
Then again, I did wind up rooting for Michael and Caro, so Romain definitely did something right.
And whatever else may be said about the two, Romain definitely succeeded in making them into complex characters with believable motivations and personality. She also did a great job creating a memorable supporting cast - Josiah Everett, a wit of noble birth who befriended Michael, the coldly practical Miss Cartwright, Lord and Lady Tallant (a charming couple and friends of Caro who are pretty much shippers on deck for her and Michael) and the hilariously forthright Augusta Meredith, who pretty much tol Michael point-blank if she wanted to bang him (under the not-entirely-unreasonable assumption that he would appreciate her straight-forwardness). Romain does a good job of painting the scene and the atmosphere. She does a great job with the dialogue and witty exchanges - which is important to me, since games of wit is one of the things I tend to look for in historical fiction. And there are lots of lines and exchanges that are funny in a nice, subdued way (like the part where Caro explains to Michael that she thinks he has an awesome ass and that, yes, ladies do talk like that)
I also appreciate the fact that, in To Charm a Naughty Countess, love doesn't magically solve everything. The ending makes it clear that Michael still has to deal with anxiety, and that social situations are still a struggle - he just became better at managing those things. It's realistic - which, like I said, I appreciate.
All and all... If you are curious about the novel's depiction of Asperger's Syndrome (and social anxiety) in fiction, by all means, check it out. But as purely a work of fiction - it was a perfectly enjoyable way to pass the time, but I'm not sure I would necessarily urge people to rush out and get it at first opportunity.
I am kind of curious about the sequel, which, according to the preview in the back of the book, stars Everett and Meredith. Based on what I've seen in the characters in this novel... I wouldn't mind seeing more of them.
---
The review copy was checked out from the Chicago Public Library. It's available on sale at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, their respective affiliated e-readers and, most likely, a book store or library near you.