D+
Title: The Code of Love
Author: Cheryl Sawyer
Genre: Historical: Other
Update! On July 5, Cheryl Sawyer dropped by and clarified her use of de rigueur in the comments and very politely pointed out that I was, in fact, talking out of my ass, for which I apologize. My statements about how stilted the book came across to me still stands, however.
Mark Twain once said that an author should “say what he is proposing to say, not merely come near it,” and as far as a rule of writing goes, that’s a good ‘un to keep in mind. It certainly was what sprang to mind when I attempted to read Cheryl Sawyer’s The Code of Love recently.
Here’s the setup:
In 1810, some English soldier dude escaped from a Mauritian prison, but was betrayed, recaptured and brought back. Now, let’s play “spot the strange word usage” with me in this excerpt, hmmmm?
Only Delphine Delgaish knew who had betrayed him to the legion, and she told just one other person, so no one else knew what to think. Which made a visit to the Garden Prison de rigueur at the earliest opportunity.
That particular use of de rigueur stopped me cold and had me running for my dictionary. It was somehow proper etiquette—in fact, socially necessary—for a genteelly-raised unmarried young woman to visit a dangerous, recently-escaped prisoner of war? WHAT?
De rigueur carries very strong connotations, most of them pertaining to fashion and social etiquette, and any uses outside of these contexts are usually deeply ironic or meant to provide comic contrast (e.g., “Genital torture and ritual humiliation were de rigueur at Abu Ghraib”). In this particular book’s case, visiting a prisoner to find out what exactly had gone wrong was perhaps necessary, perhaps even vital, but unless the visit was an attempt to, I don’t know, ascertain the color of his breeches or inspect the state of his Hessians, nothing about it was by any means de rigueur.
The use of this phrase made the book come across as trying too damn hard—an impression that was sustained across what bits of the book I managed to read. It wasn’t necessarily F-grade bad, or even D-grade bad, but it was tedious as hell, and made for a very stilted read. After ramming through a few more pages, I decided to give up on it. For the bits I managed to read, I’d give it a D+. It may have improved later, but I honestly didn’t want to wade through the rest of it. It made me a very sad panda, because it seemed like such a waste of an interesting premise.
The part that made me double-take was: “Only Delphine Delgaish knew who had betrayed him to the legion, and she told just one other person.”
That would be only Delphine and the person she told knew who betrayed him, right? Unless she told Pheldine, her alter ego.
Oh Lord, somehow those couple of sentences have somehow generated the concept of Multiple-Personality Disorder Secret Baby Romance into my diseased mind.
Aaaaiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!1!!
At least it would explain how the baby could be truly secret. If even the mother doesn’t know at the time, how can anyone else know?
OH god make it stop no body use that please!
Ok,
I’m going to drink another cup of coffee and eat a donut before I try to unscramble all this.
A multiple personality heroine would be an improvement on the amount of heroines who have no personality at all. Oh, excuse me, I forgot. When you’re “feisty” you don’t really need to have any other personality traits.
Or maybe the baby has multiple personalities, and that’s why it’s been kept a secret.
Only Delphine Delgaish knew who had betrayed him to the legion, and she told just one other person, so no one else knew what to think.
Only Delphine knew.
Except that she told someone else, so in fact, we have no idea how many people might really be in the know.
And somehow everyone else is at a loss as to what happened, because they all know that only Delphine knew?
I’m very, very, very lost.
WTF?
The more I read this, the less sense it makes. Maybe after lunch—- 2010.
You mean, only Delphine and the person who betrayed him knew, right? Or, oh, that would make her the betrayer?
Mystery solved. End of novel.
IMO tedious usually equates into a wallbanger…wise of you to cut your losses. No sense wasting your valuable time, time that could be better spent reading a really good book!!
After years of reading, I no longer feel any obligation to continue reading crap. Writers can write it, some publisher may publish it, but I do not feel obligated to finish reading garbage.
The new Lora Leigh is call me…
DL! I love Lora Leigh. She is the literary equivalent of 7/11 nachos with extra cheese sauce and hot peppers.
You know it is not food, you know you will pay for it the next day, but you still want some after you have finished the six pack of Bud Light by yourself.
I think I’m gonna have to go to 7-11 for lunch today. Dammit!
I would recommend a nice Lora Leigh Elizabeth’s Wolf to go with your nachos.
Judging from that example of her deathless prose, Cheryl Sawyer cannot write her way out of a wet paper bag. How does somebody like that get published in the first place. Thanks for the warning, I’ll avoid her in future.
Delphine Delgaish? Just rolls off the tongue and bangs straight into the wall.
Which made a visit to the Garden Prison de rigueur at the earliest opportunity.
Because it is the fashion, the style, in fact de rigeur for heroines in this type of historical novel to do TSTL things, of course.
(Oops. I think I just had a BronBitch moment.)
I’m with Wendy on this one, I just can’t get beyond the name. Delphine Delgaish? That is just awful.
Which brings up a good opportunity, an awful names snarkfest perhaps? We’ve got cover snark, why not name snark?
You are stronger than I will ever be. Once I start something, I…must…finish…it…no…matter…how…long…it…takes.
One day, God willing, I will break this nasty habit.
So Delphine knew.
The betrayed knew.
The person she told it to knew.
The betrayer knew (of course).
The omniscient POV voice knew.
Everyone else knew.
So the only person who doesn’t know who betrayed “him” is me, the reader.
Gah. De Rigor Mortis.
verification word: general85 *Ha! I bet HE knew who betrayed whom too*
You sure it wasn’t a clever little word play? ha ha? If she took her time deciding which bonnet and pelisse would be best for the visit, if she tried to decide if her calling cards should be left with the edge folded, yowza! it would be a great sort of line. Something Loretta Chase might come up with.
I need to stop reading without my glasses, ‘cause I read “Delgaish” as “Delgash.” Sigh.
Candy – I’m so glad to know that you do give up on bad books sometimes – I was beginning to think you were some sort of masochist ;D
Ann – I used to finish even really bad books but then I finally came to the decision that my time was more valuable so unless it’s entertainingly bad I just put them in the discard pile and move on.
First time for everything: I’ve never disagreed so much about a grade with you bitches before.
IIRC, I think I gave The Code of Love a strong B+ or even an A-.
I’ve always loved Cheryl Swayer’s style and I never got the impression she was trying too hard. IMO she’s miles above 90% of the romance writers currently published. But then I also think that Judith Ivory *does* try too hard and her books are painful to read and I’m in the minority there it seems. Looks like I’m in the minority when it comes to Cheryl Sawyer too.
Re-De Rigueur, I don’t know if its use and meaning has changed since it became part of the english vocabulary, but, in French, you do not use it only for etiquette and fashion. That’s why I saw nothing wrong in the passage you quoted.
Can we entirely blame the author though? I mean the editor actually looked at it and said it was okay. Sometimes I wonder if authors actually have editors or just pretend.
Estelle: It may very well be that de rigueur may not have the same connotations in English as in French—or, frankly, in 19th-century English-speaking territories. (My friend Sebastien got a nasty surprise when he learned what “douche” actually means in English, for example, and was mortified at all the times he’d told his friends at the dorm that he was going to have a quick douche.) My nitpick may be badly off-base; I’ll gladly be shown the light if people want to offer up examples of period usage and the like.
But that still doesn’t change the fact that I really, really didn’t like the prose style in the rest of the book, and thought it was clumsily-written.
lol Candy, I also learned recently what ‘Douche’ meant in English. Luckily I did not use the name when I spoke English so there was no embarassing moment.
Hey, to each their own when it comes to taste. I still love to read all the snark you dish out. It’s always good to have a laugh before leaving my house in the morning :o)
:cautiously:
Um. What did your friend think douche meant? :
nm. i put it into google translator. that’s pretty funny… poor guy, i would’ve liked to have seen his friends’ faces the first time he popped off with “gonna go have a quick douche”!
The term “Douche” now a days can simply be short for calling someone a “Douche Bag”.
I have also heard “Douche” used in the Navy to mean you are going to take a shower and get cleaned up.
I think it’s “supposed” to be shocking like some old Sailor asking some young recruit “Have you gotten your red wings yet” etc etc.
Not if you’re francophone like Sebastien almost certainly is, Teddy Pig. It’s French for “shower”.
Lot’s of words change meaning much like certain hand signals when in other cultures.
Fag means “a drudge” in British terminology but I would not count on anyone knowing that in the US.
“Fag” can also mean a cigarette in British terminology. I found out what “fag” meant in US when I tried to purchase “twenty fags – not too strong” on my first day in the States.
I found out what “fag†meant in US when I tried to purchase “twenty fags – not too strong†on my first day in the States.
I’m still choking and snorting on my tea because of that line. ZOMG; whoever you said it to would have been able to repeat that story for laughs endlessly.
The entire book was trying too hard because of two words?
For your edification, m’dear Anonymous:
Keep working on those reading sk1llz, eh?
I’ve never publicly replied to a review and never will, but I have commented just once (in an All About Romance forum) on a debate some interested readers held over the name Ile de France, also in THE CODE OF LOVE.
This column, however, was not a review but a bitch about facts, so I just thought I’d congratulate some of the commentators on their perception in two respects.
1 It was in fact socially de rigueur for the well-born plantation owners on the island of Mauritius (or Ile de France) of the time to visit the English naval prisoners at the beautiful garden prison in Port Louis. They were a tiny society in need of entertainment and, rather cruel and patronising though it may seem, they went to regular receptions there and exchanged polite conversation with the prisoners, who were all officers and gentlemen. Knowing this historical fact I was eager to have Delphine Dalgleish (note the spelling of her surname – she was half French and half Scots) pay a rather tense visit with her mother, especially considering point two:
2 It was Delphine who betrayed the prisoner to the legion. I’m delighted that from just one paragraph some readers worked that out.
Both these facts do set up what is described in the original post as “an interesting premiseâ€. Whether the THE CODE OF LOVE develops well from there is entirely up to individual readers to decide, and I totally respect their freedom of expression. I’m thankful that Estelle enjoyed the book and so kindly said so.
With best wishes to you all, Cheryl Sawyer
Cheryl: Thanks for clearing that up. Always good to know about these sorts of things, and I’ll note as much in the review.
I still didn’t especially enjoy the writing style, however—as noted, the peculiar-to-me use of “de rigueur” was more the straw that broke the camel’s back than the sole, or even primary, reason why I didn’t bother to go beyond a few pages.
well, damn, that’s a pretty classy reply, Cheryl Sawyer, and an interesting set up about the de rigueur visits. Thanks.
Whether or not someone likes your voice is such a matter of individual taste. I read the first chapter of a comic romance Sarah panned and laughed out loud a couple of times.