The Compleat And Actual Adventures of Marcella White Campbell

This post is spoilery if you’re like me and are about ten years behind in your reading.

I’ve been pondering otherness in romance novels a lot since the RWAs. I have a project on the backburner that explores racial otherness, among other things, that had its genesis after I attended a reading by Beverly Jenkins. In the meantime, however, I’m content to read new books dealing with the subject and reread some older ones.

I read The China Bride when I was a new bride myself — married for around two years, and in grad school, with an infant daughter. I was only twenty-two or twenty-three, all my friends — fresh out of college — were working, and I had just discovered romance novels.

I immediately discovered a predilection for single title historicals; after all, I basically grew up at 221B Baker Street. I inhaled every Amanda Quick novel I could get my hands on, scouring the shelves at Goodwill and, sometimes, new book stores. (It’s embarassing for me to admit it now, but, back then, I had a special shelf in our spare room for my romances, I guess so they didn’t sexify Foucault, because he never writes about sex ever). My family thought it was hilarious that someone pursuing an MA in Literature — who aspired to be a Writer, for goodness’ sake — would be reading romance novels.

Anyhow, back to the halcyon days when I was pretending not to care about the ribbing. The China Bride is an excellent example of the best historical romance: the kind that creates a world so absorbing that it is actually impossible to put down. (Rereading it in its entirety yesterday, at one point I sat in a parking lot with the car motor running, reading it, until an impatient parking space vulture started laying on the horn.) The emotional conflict between the characters is believable, and the stock romance shocker — husband of convenience! back from the dead! — is handled without melodrama.

Well, without too much. I need my melodrama.

I should clarify that I tracked down and reread The China Bride so I could revisit how the book handles the racial difference between the hero and the heroine. I didn’t read the flashback chapters that build the romance between the characters, although of course I have before. I was more interested, this time around, in how a mixed-race woman from Macao is shown navigating Regency England.

Troth is half-Scottish, half-Chinese, living in the kind of border society where she could learn about both cultures. She has also lived as a man and a woman. In short, she knows a lot about blending but nothing whatsoever about belonging. An interesting character to watch when she falls in love for the first time.

People’s reactions to Troth (in England and Scotland) are idealized but at least varying. Although she makes several allies, it’s definitely implied that she will have a task ahead of her in finding her niche. It’s also implied that some will never accept her, and that she’ll have an easier time of it with the men of her society than the women, which is realistic.

Putney does, I think, a good job of creating a heroine who could, plausibly, in a very, very nice corner of England and protected by a powerful and slightly eccentric family, make a place for herself. I appreciate that she comes to terms with her difference on her own terms and in her own time. Even when Troth is very self-doubting, the reasons are clear and understandable. I’m the sort of reader who usually likes to identify with the hero, so she’s a special character for me.

That being said, I’m not a fan of Kyle, who she falls in love with. I prefer heroes and heroines who are disenfranchised in one way or another, and learn to accept their true destiny as alpha males or awesome social dragons or whatever. Kyle’s difference from other men of his society is very, very internal and involves a lot of soul-searching; in some ways, he reconciles that difference by being with Troth, and I’m not sure how I feel about that. “You complete me” is fine, but “you calm my curious and restless spirit by being exotic” may be problematic.

I still think it’s a great book though, a fast and enjoyable read, with some unusual stylistic touches like the pacing and a great deal of research and historically accurate detail.