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Two of
the pleasures of historical fiction are that it allows readers
to experience history through individual characters and that
it can illuminate how our own time is informed by times past.
At its best, historical fiction is not just a story but an
exploration of history, culture, sociology, and psychology.
Chained Love, Unbridled Passion by Deborah D'Angelo
is a historical novel that never quite realizes that potential.
The novel
starts off with a strong plot proposition, with a nod to the
great themes of classic literature: forbidden love between
people from different classes. Set in the Dark Ages, D'Angelo
has the opportunity to address themes of power, class, and
the status of women in Medieval England, but even though the
main characters' interpersonal relationship is explored in
great depth, other fascinating historical themes are left
sadly undeveloped.
Our protagonist
is the spirited Victoria Wellesley, who is a servant of the
Castle Gildimoor, a large estate in feudal England. Her parents
were serfs, but upon their deaths in her early childhood,
the Earl of Gildimoor took pity on her and instructed that
she be taken in by the castle's servants. Now 18 years old,
she has managed to obtain a position as a stable hand due
to her aptitude with horses. This job is highly unusual for
a woman of her time, which raises all sort of interesting
questions about social mobility and the treatment of the servant
classes. Unfortunately, D'Angelo spends more time describing
Victoria's buxom figure, her flowing chestnut hair, and the
style of her bodice than she does considering the changing
role of the feudal serf in light of agrarian and religious
reforms of the period.
Tension
builds when the Earl's handsome and manly son, Lord Charles,
arrives back at the castle after a four-year pilgrimage. He
is to marry the daughter of a neighboring lord, and the castle
is abuzz with preparations for his homecoming and wedding.
It is revealed that Charles and Victoria were childhood friends,
but the last time they saw each other she—a skinny, short
tomboy—and he—three years older than she—were
not quite over the awkward throes of puberty. While the circumstances
of a son of the nobility being friends with the daughter of
serfs seem historically unlikely, the potential for an in-depth
exploration of the relationship between rulers and subjects
in feudal England is tantalizing enough to justify suspending
disbelief.
Alas,
the relationship between Lord Charles and Victoria interrupts
any elucidation on these interesting historical points. Lord
Charles, out on his daily ride through the castle's forests,
comes across Victoria in a pasture where she is working to
break a horse. He is stunned by her transformation in the
past four years into a beautiful woman and watches her, enraptured.
When the willful horse manages to throw her, he runs to her
rescue. The storm that is brewing breaks and he carries her
to a small abandoned stable at the edge of the pasture, where
she woozily awakens to find herself instantly attracted to
Charles. They weather out the storm resisting the animal magnetism
that is drawing them together.
The attraction
between Charles and Victoria, which evolves into a forbidden
relationship, is an obvious platform from which to explore
the power dynamics of class and gender in Medieval England,
but D'Angelo instead over-emphasizes her characters' personal
feelings at the expense of greater historical insight. Disappointingly,
the reader has to wade through pages and pages of descriptions
of the characters' feelings of desire, lust, and love, as
well as whole chapters describing their physical intimacy,
to glean only small nuggets of historical analysis. Even when
a rival count engages spies to sabotage Charles's marriage,
the author spends more time on the overwrought emotions of
her characters than she does on the political motivations
of the upwardly-mobile noble classes, which is a theme that
is left sadly underdeveloped when the count's material motives
turn lustful after he meets Victoria.
As this
is Deborah D'Angelo's ninety-sixth historical novel with,
it must be admitted, rather similar plot constructs, it is
hopeful that, in the future, she will gain a more nuanced
understanding of the period to which she confines her writing
and will enlighten her readers with a more thorough and insightful
exploration of the Medieval politics of sex, class, and power.
That is why we read such novels, after all, is it not?
(April
1, 2008)
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