by Katie MacAllister, originally posted 06/02/05
I expect I’m going to get some flack for this post. Oh, not because I’m dissing an author, or a book, or even a genre—but because I’m baring my soul about a book that pushes my comfort level.
Like most readers, I have a collection of “keeper†books—books I read again and again and again. I call those my comfort reads—I may know the stories by heart, I may know all the twists and turns of the plot, but I keep rereading them because something about those books chimes my bells. Sometimes it’s an author’s witty voice (like Christina Dodd, Lynsay Sands, Jill Barnett), sometimes it’s the plot that sucks me in (Elizabeth Lowell, Elizabeth Elliott, Lynn Kurland—yes, I read a lot of historicals), sometimes it’s the subject matter that is a guilty pleasure (sheikh books!), but most often, it’s the hero and heroine that keep me coming back for seconds, and thirds, and thirty-fifths (Roberta Gellis, Christine Feehan, oodles of others).
I have one keeper book that I doubt if I’ll ever re-read, though. It’s a book that absolutely rocked me back on my heels, a book that so captivated me, I sat up all night to read it (to me, the ultimate compliment I can pay an author is saying I’d rather go without sleep than put aside her book). That book changed my view of the romance genre, and so astounded me with the sheer brilliance of it, I couldn’t stop talking about it for days. I didn’t stop thinking about it for months. Years later, I still remember not only specific scenes, but the emotions the book generated in me.
That book was Flowers from the Storm by Laura Kinsale. Those of you who’ve read it may be nodding your heads when I say it was one of the most powerful books I’ve ever read, certainly the most powerful romance. It was a book that I’ll never forget, one which has left a lasting impression on me. So with all those accolades, all that praise, all the recognition that Kinsale tapped something in me that I doubt either one of us expected (but I’m sure she would be pleased with)—why won’t I ever reread it?
It made me uncomfortable. Don’t get me wrong, I love the book; I think it’s a perfect example of how a romance writer can step beyond her boundaries and write something that has all the elements of great fiction. I recommend it to everyone who’s looking for a meaty historical book. But reading Flowers from the Storm was such an emotionally overwhelming experience for me, I don’t think I could go through that magnificent journey of pain to enlightenment to happiness again.
As an author, I strive to write books that will keep people coming back for more, and I’m always flattered when someone tells me that my books number among their comfort reads. So how do I justify baring my soul about a book that I would classify as being the #1 Most Amazing Romance I’ve Ever Read? I don’t. I can’t!
Flowers from the Storm will always be on my keeper shelf. I will never part with my copy simply because it has had such an immense impact on me. It took me off of my comfortable romance path and left me in awe of Kinsale’s storytelling abilities. I may well give in some day and re-read it just to cry again over Christian’s journey, and to cheer on Maddy. Until that day, however, I’m just going to be grateful that there are authors out there who provide me with delicious reads that make me giggle, drool, and sigh with happiness…and likewise, that there are authors like Laura Kinsale who push me past my limits, and encourage me to explore areas beyond my comfort zone.
At least once, anyway.
I’d love to know if any of you have a favorite book which pushed you past your comfort boundaries, and what impact, if any, it had on you.
No related posts.
The Time Traveler’s Wife. I classify it as my favorite book, but I don’t reread it. It’s very good, but it’s just such a wrench at the end, you know? It’s hard to go through.
Plus I read it when I was in a couple and now that I’m not, I don’t think I could take reading it while single. Kind of silly, really.
Katie,
There are a couple of books I’ve felt that way about–including a couple of Kinsales. I found her late: Shadowheart was my first introduction to her writing, and OMG, it wrung me out and left me gasping.
Some books take my breath away because they’re so amazingly good, and I can read them over and over again and delight in them every time, and find something new each time I read them.
Then there are the few that are like you described–also amazingly good, but they just reach those emotions and when I’m finished, I’m not sure I ever want to read another book ever again because this one book has done everything I could ever want from a book. I have to read a bunch of light, preferably mediocre books afterward to let my system settle. And no, I’ve never yet re-read one of them, though they’re on my keeper shelves and I think I intend to re-read them eventually.
It’s like… they’re the childbirth of books: emotionally draining, completely satisfying, and though you’re not at all interested in repeating the experience for a good long while, you’re ecstatic that you did.
There are a few books I’ve read like that – I know just what you mean. The emotional wrench is too great. I had to wait Years to read ‘Green Darkness’ by Anya Seton (think I spelled her name right, lol). There were some scenes that were too much. (and when I did re-read it I found some scenes had aged badly and were rather passé)
Anyway, I have the same ‘problem’. Books I love, but can’t bear to re-read.