The Dark Queen by Susan Carroll

The Dark Queen

Rating: * * *

From Brittany’s misty shores to the decadent splendor of Paris’s royal court, one woman must fulfill her destiny–while facing the treacherous designs of Catherine de Medici, the dark queen.

She is Ariane, the Lady of Faire Isle, one of the Cheney sisters, renowned for their mystical skills and for keeping the isle secure and prosperous. But this is a time when women of ability are deemed sorceresses, when Renaissance France is torn by ruthless political intrigues, and all are held in thrall to the sinister ambitions of Queen Catherine de Medici. Then a wounded stranger arrives on Faire Isle, bearing a secret the Dark Queen will do everything in her power to possess. The only person Ariane can turn to is the comte de Renard, a nobleman with fiery determination and a past as mysterious as his own unusual gifts.

Riveting, vibrant, and breathtaking, The Dark Queen follows Ariane and Renard as they risk everything to prevent the fulfillment of a dreadful prophecy–even if they must tempt fate and their own passions.

– target.com

A fantasy story with potential is like a vanilla milkshake with crushed Oreo bits. For the first few sips, you’re in heaven – nothing tastes this good, surely. [And you don’t even like chocolate, normally.] But half-way in, you’re thinking maybe you’re in way over your head. It tastes indistinguishable now – all you can sense is sugar. By the end, you’re telling yourself you should never, never get that drink again.

A week later, you return to the cafe. “Oh yeah, I’ll get that vanilla milkshake with Oreo bits again, I think it was good last time…”

The Dark Queen is the ultimate vanilla shake with Oreo bits, the ultimate fantasy tale – even action’s included, mind! – with the greatest potential. Potential which, half-way in, sputters and drops limply to the floor. What the hell happened?

Ariane, possibly the greatest lady of the earth alive now, does nothing remarkable. The only time she really does anything (besides unremarkable CPR) is to dabble in slightly dark magic – highly uncharacteristic and absolutely pointless plot-wise – to complain to her mother about her life problems. Even after her dead mother asks her not to. Three times she disobeys. Three pointless times so she can b—- and moan to her heart’s content, never mind that her mother asked her not to summon her, never mind that this dark magic could possibly stain her soul (the effects of which, obviously, are never addressed), never mind what this does to the natural balance of magic (seriously, if you’re going to label something as dark magic, you should have some sort of balance between “good” and “bad” or else there’s no need for these labels).

And that’s only just the female protagonist. When you add her two confused sisters – one weakly set on revenge and one just plain stupid, though young – as well as the evil witch Catherine, who, let’s face it, is about as scary as cottage cheese, you’re wondering if the Oreo bits have disintegrated into your shake. Ah – and just to shake it up a bit more – the lovely, dashing male is not so much lovely or dashing as muddled and a bit too “gallant” for anyone’s tastes. He started off as a right git, attempting to force Ariane’s hand in marriage, and then…well, he started keeping secrets that aren’t really secrets – but since Carroll thinks they are, we just nod and scratch our heads – and after that he rapidly began losing appeal.

And when you look back at the cover of the book and realize this book is titled after “evil witch” Catherine, whom, as we stated, is no scarier than cottage cheese, you have to wonder where it’s all leading.

And then you realize it’s leading up to nowhere.

So much potential…it’s a shame, really. If you truly must read it, stop after male and female enter water. Because, honestly, that’s as good as it gets.

On the fence. [But teetering a bit on the dangerous side of said fence.]

& ElizabethC

The Importance of Being Earnest by Oscar Wilde

The Importance of Being Earnest
[BBC dramatisation (sic) featuring Judi Dench, Miriam Margoyles, Martin Clunes, and more]

Rating: * * *

The Importance of Being Earnest is a classic comedy of manners in which two flippant young men, in order to impress their respected beloveds, pretend that their names are “Ernest,” which both young ladies believe confers magical qualities on the possessor. It was first performed for the public on February 14, 1895 at the St. James’ Theatre in London, and is regarded by many critics and scholars as being the wittiest play in the English language.

– Wikipedia

This BBC full-cast recording covers the third and fourth acts of the comedic play, a fact for which I was grateful. It took me three times to buck up and finish listening to the recording, even if the dialogue was wildly humourous at times. I don’t know if I’d have managed finishing it at all if it had included the previous two acts as well.

I believe the difficulty lay in the rather stilted interlude of dialogue between Lady Bracknell (Judi Dench) and “Ernest” Jack Worthing (Martin Clunes, I believe) in the beginning of the recording. Dench seemed a bit confined, a little slow. “Ernest” felt boring throughout. I’m happy to say, though, that Dench’s part improved in the second half – I’m rather a partial fan of hers. And it pains me that something so celebrated by critics is, in my mind, a bit stale. “A handbag?” for me was not wildly comic, but rather painful. Some moments that should have caused for hilarity were unable to produce the proper reaction from me.

Like many works of the time, the dialogue moves well enough, but the pace of the plot seemed at a stand-still too many times for my own liking, until the middle of the fourth act. [I understand it is considered a classic, but I am allowed to find fault in it according to my own tastes, am I not? Or at least to dislike it on its own standing, rather than the standing given to it by many other reviewers.]

The ending was highly predictable, of course, but by then I had no desire of knowing what would happen with the young couples, for I despised both girls and rolled my eyes at the men. I do not quite think disgust with his characters was the main intention of Wilde, and so I’m left a bit disappointed with my impressions of this recording. I understand the satirical nature of the play, but it didn’t seem to really reach out and grab me through the dramatisation.

When all’s said, certain brilliant exchanges of dialogue save this recording, and are the only reason why I give it a mostly favorable review. People should experience it once, but most likely never again.

On the fence.

& ElizabethC