{"id":12575,"date":"2019-04-19T11:04:49","date_gmt":"2019-04-19T15:04:49","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/jennytrout.com\/?p=12575"},"modified":"2019-04-19T11:04:49","modified_gmt":"2019-04-19T15:04:49","slug":"jealous-haters-book-club-the-mister-chapter-four-or-demelssia-vision","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/jennytrout.com\/?p=12575","title":{"rendered":"JEALOUS HATERS Book Club: The Mister, Chapter Four or “Demelssia Vision”"},"content":{"rendered":"

Entertainment Weekly<\/em>\u00a0interviewed E.L. James about\u00a0<\/a><\/span>The Mister.<\/span>\u00a0<\/em>And boy o’howdy, it’s really something else.<\/p>\n

Entertainment Weekly: 50\u00a0Shades<\/em> rather famously began as fan-fiction. Was there a particular work of pop culture or literature that inspired\u00a0The Mister<\/em>?<\/strong><\/p>\n

No, not really. The only inspiration I can say about this work is the hundreds of historical romances that I read over the years. […] There’s no direct inspiration. It’s a story that’s been hanging around in my head for a wee while. […]<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

\"Aidan<\/a><\/p>\n

There are a lot of gems in this interview, including James saying that she categorizes\u00a0The Mister<\/em> as an erotic romance because the sex scenes are descriptive and the “darkness” doesn’t come from within the characters (it’s not an erotic romance and that’s not what the definition of erotic romance is in the first place), and how she doesn’t want to be a part of conversations about on-page consent or our cultural treatment of women’s entertainment, but this was my favorite part:<\/p>\n

Why do you think people love to hate on your work? Is there an element of they just can’t stand seeing a woman be so successful?<\/strong><\/p>\n

I think there’s an element of that yeah. I did it in my spare time, having fun, writing for myself. And I think that really pisses people off sometimes.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

So, there you have it. Jealous Haters. I hereby remove\u00a0The Mister<\/em> from the Second Chance Book Club and rename it an emergency selection of the Jealous Haters Book Club.<\/p>\n

Gavel noise.<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

The chapter opens with a “Dios mio!” No, sorry. A “Zot!” Demelssia interprets Moss’s confusion as anger. Through her eyes, we get another description of how hot Moss is:<\/p>\n

Alessia freezes as his blazing green eyes meet her. Tall, lean, and half-naked, he towers over her. His hair is an unruly chestnut mess with gold highlights that glint beneath the chandelier in the hallway. He is as broad-shouldered as she remembers, but the tattoo on his upper arm is far more intricate than she recalls; all she can distinguish is a wing. A smattering of hair on his chest tapers down over a toned stomach. Then resumes beneath his navel and travels farther down into his jeans. The tight black denim is ripped at the knee. But it’s the hard line of his full lips and his eyes, the color of spring, in a handsome, unshaven face that make her look away.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

First of all, I shared this passage with Bronwyn Green yesterday and her immediate response was, “Aidan Turner doesn’t have green eyes.” This was an incredibly on-brand remark for her to make. But here’s where I’m going to nitpick, from a craft perspective. Demelssia already knows how hot his body is. The reader already knows because we saw him through Demelssia’s POV. What we needed here was some comparison from Demelssia about how he looks awake vs. how he looks when he’s asleep. Are his eyes more intense? Is his expression harder? Does he seem so much bigger and more overwhelming when he’s standing in front of her, as opposed to when he’s lying in his bed? There’s nothing wrong with throwing in how hot a character is, but do it in a way that actually engages the reader beyond, “This guy was sexy two days ago and he’s still sexy now.”<\/p>\n

Further proof that this little scene is there solely to remind the reader that they’re supposed to feel some sort of sexual tension between the characters with minimal authorial effort? Demelssia then thinks how attractive he is, worries he’s mad that she’s woken him up, and then worries she’ll get fired. That’s it, and we jump back into Moss’s POV. Which is a huge mistake; we haven’t hardly spent any time with her. We’ve been in Moss’s head for a\u00a0while<\/em>, so we can already kind of anticipate his reaction to finding her there.\u00a0She<\/em> can’t anticipate his reaction, therefore, her POV is going to be far more interesting and create way more tension than his.<\/p>\n

Get out your\u00a0Fifty Shades of Grey<\/em> bingo cards:<\/p>\n

Who the hell is this timid creature standing in my hallway? I’m completely bemused.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Don’t worry, all your old favorites are going to be here, I promise.<\/p>\n

Let’s find out what Demelssia looks like:<\/p>\n

An image from a forgotten dream developes like a Polaroid in my memory, an angel in blue hovering at my bedside. But that was days ago. Could it have been her? And now she’s here, rooted to the hallway floor, her impish face pale, her eyes downcast.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

And:<\/p>\n

Wide eyes, the color of a fine espresso and framed by the longest lashes I’ve ever seen, look up at me, then back at the floor.<\/p>\n

Shit!<\/em><\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Even though I was still enjoying this book at this part, I did laugh at this. Who’s like, “Oh, that person has pretty eyes. Shit!” What is this extreme negative reaction about?<\/p>\n

She’s at least a head shorter than me, perhaps five feet five to my six feet two. Her features are delicate: high cheekbones, an upturned nose, fair skin, pale lips. She looks like she needs a few days in the sun and a good hearty meal.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

That last part is definitely something a person would say if they were a modern human being in this Year of Our Lord 2019 and not in, like, early 19th century Cornwall.<\/p>\n

Her even white teeth chew at her upper lip as she refuses to meet my gaze.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Her\u00a0upper<\/em> lip? Sorry, this is all I’m seeing:<\/p>\n

\"A<\/a><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

My whole body tightens in a hot, heavy rush as desire hits me like a demolition ball.<\/p>\n

Fuck a duck!<\/em><\/p><\/blockquote>\n

No, you read that right. Yes, it’s in the book like that. No, I didn’t leave anything out in between those lines. Absolutely, the hero of this novel said “Fuck a duck!” because he got turned on. That is a real thing a human person wrote.<\/p>\n

Anyway, he figures that she must be related to his cleaning lady, since she’s there, cleaning, and obviously, if she’s cleaning the house, she probably can’t speak English and I guess all immigrants apparently must be related. No shit, here’s what happens in his head:<\/p>\n

Krystyna’s mastery of English extended to the words “yes” and “here,” which often meant lots of gesticulating on my part when I needed her to undertake tasks that went beyond her usual cleaning routine. This girl is probably Polish, too.<\/p>\n

“I am cleaner, Mister,” she whispers, her eyes still downcast and her eyelashes fanned out above her luminous cheeks.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

So, he sees a woman with a broom in her hand, assumes she’s foreign, and then she’s like, hey, let me throw some stilted English at you to confirm it. And I bring this up because we’re going to monitor her English as we go forward here. There is going to be a moment, not today, not this week, but soon, soon enough that you’ll regret it, that her speech patterns will be cause for such rage that your fury could heat the forges of a thousand dwarven mines.<\/p>\n

Demelssia tells Moss that Krystyna went back to Poland, that Demelssia has been in England “since three weeks,” and, when prompted, that she speaks English:<\/p>\n

“Yes. I speak English. My name is Alessia Demachi. I have been in your apartment since ten o’clock this morning.”<\/p>\n

Wow. She really does speak English.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

If you’re that impressed, Moss, wait until you hear what language\u00a0you<\/em> speak!<\/p>\n

I’m skipping quite a few chunks of him talking about how entrancing her eyes are in between asking questions and getting aroused over and over. It falls into this clunky\u00a0face<\/em>-expletive-arousal<\/em>\u00a0combo that gets caught on a loop. No, seriously. Backtracking a moment:<\/p>\n

[…]regarding me with large, liquid brown eyes. Eyes I could drown in. My mouth dries as my body comes to attention again.<\/p>\n

Fuck!<\/em><\/p><\/blockquote>\n

And then:<\/p>\n

Her lips are now rosy, her bottom lip plumper than her top, and she licks the upper one again.<\/p>\n

Hell!<\/em><\/p>\n

I’m aroused once more.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

He’s so confused and disturbed by his incomprehensible horniness over her that he introduces himself as Maxim instead of Trevethick or Trevelyan, then announces that he’s going to the gym. As he walks away, we jump\u00a0back<\/em> into Demelssia’s POV, so that we can see him walking away.<\/p>\n

She watches the flex and pull of the muscles on his back\u2013right down to the two dimples that show just above the waistband of his jeans. It’s a distracting sight\u2013very distracting.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

The hits keep coming. It’s [adjective].\u00a0Very<\/em> [adjective].<\/p>\n

Demelssia, still interpreting Moss’s overwhelming passion for anger, is worried she’ll be fired and then she won’t be able to play the piano. I know that some of you have said in the comments that you hate that she plays his piano because it’s unprofessional or you’d hate someone touching your instruments, which I get, but this is really something I don’t find all that egregious. Demelssia is a musician with no instrument and I understand what that temptation would be so strong that she would risk everything just to play again. And I’m happy that she has at least something she cares about that makes her seem like a person; Ana never cared about anything passionately enough to focus on it as a character trait.<\/p>\n

Just for funsies, let’s take a minute to tally up the things we know about both our hero and our heroine at this point:<\/p>\n

Moss Troldark:<\/strong><\/p>\n