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I feel like historical romance readers are bizarrely split over MacLean. I know a good swath of them who think she can do no wrong and might have the power to turn water into wine. And then I know a bunch who are like "she can't string a thought together." I find this odd, since what I've read of MacLean--admittedly, only two of her books--seems pretty middle of the pack to me. They're not changing my life, but they're for the most part enjoyable. I'm just wondering if maybe this is one of those things where, because I don't listen to podcasts or follow a huge number of other romance blogs, it's actually MacLean herself that causes the split and I'm missing that information. That's all I can come up with, because otherwise it's strange.
In any case, this is the second book in her Bareknuckle Bastards trilogy, a British historical with a premise that out-what-the-fucks many other similar such trilogies. Basically, we have four people: Devil/Devon, Beast/Whit, Marwick/Ewan, and Dahlia/Grace. The second listed names are their birth names in some form. All four of these people were born on the exact same day. The three boys have the same father, but different mothers: that is, they are a Duke's issue from the wrong side of the blanket. Grace was born to the Duchess, who is married to the Duke at the time of Grace's birth, but the Duke is not her father. Meanwhile, the Duchess has taken a pistol and made certain there will be no further issue from said Duke. Instead of doing what most people did at this point, and realizing that third cousin Sir Popinjay over in Hampstead was going to be the successor, this fucking psychopath baptizes Grace as a male heir so as to have a placeholder, then goes and rounds up the three boys and spends a year or so recreating Thunderdome with his pre-adolescent children to see who's the strongest, aka, the one who will take the title.
Try not to be shocked: none of them makes it out without some type of PTSD. Ewan, having tried to kill all of them at the Duke's behest, holds the title. Dev, Whit, and Grace escape to London, where they make their names in fights, and then, naturally, build a kingdom of smuggling (the boys) and a bordello for women (Grace), and rule Covent Gardens, both through wealth and power and because they take care of those in it to the best of their ability.
By the opening of this book, Dev is married to a woman named Felicity who left society for him, and now we've got Whit doing his thing, being a businessman when he meets Henrietta Sedley, or Hattie. Hattie's an earl's daughter, but the title was granted to him by the Crown, and is only for life. Her father runs a shipping business and she has one goal: to get the business left to her. Hattie is too big a girl to be considered fashionable amongst society, too smart for most men to be interested, too outspoken to be who her father wants her to be.
Beast likes her pretty much from the get-go. Beast, on the other hand, doesn't talk a whole bunch, mostly wants to hide in his rooms with this soft furniture and his books, and basically just wants to keep everyone he loves safe. He is one of my preferred archetypes: the Very Burnt Marshmallow. (You know exactly what I'm talking about, don't even try to pretend otherwise.)
I find when people criticize MacLean it's often because they have a problem with her tropes. I think that's somewhat hypocritical, since, if you're reading romance, you're reading for some kind of trope. It might not be the ones MacLean leans into, and she might not be the author for you, but I actually appreciate her extra-ness, the way she's ride-or-die in her tropeyness. That's part of the joy of genre-fic.
Side-ish note: I'm more than a bit suspicious of anyone who thumbs their nose at indulgence in romance or genre-fic in general. Having pretentious taste in your romances won't make you any more respectable to the ivory tower. For evidence, please see: white gay men pretending POC queers don't exist in the pursuit of mainstream acceptance. Surprise: homophobes still don't differentiate.
In fact, I think the reason I like the second book in this series better than the first is because MacLean goes all in on tropes, both in terms of characters and plot. Also, I do love having an established couple being healthy and reasonable around. It helps that she scales back on dialogue in general here. Most of what came out of Dev's mouth in the first book made me think "who speaks like this??" Hattie and Beast have a much better flow despite him being a quieter guy. (Maybe because of it?)
Another major plus is that there's none of the mind-boggling miscommunication for miscommunication's sake that happens in the first book. There <i>are</i> misunderstandings, but they come from two people reading a single situation very differently. It doesn't feel like she needed an extra 2k words to fulfill her publishing contract, and just threw that in to get there.
There's a lot of interesting world-building in these books, a sort of recreation of what Covent Gardens could have been at any moment. Hattie's intensely relatable in a number of ways, and Beast is as well. The dialogue is still hit-and-miss, but a definite improvement over Wicked and the Wallflower. The background characters are a joy, and the plot and pacing move exceedingly well. Nothing about this book is terribly new or different, but it doesn't need to be. It's a well-written story about a headstrong woman and an anxiety-ridden man who's doing his best not to appear that way, and the fact that they complete each other.
I would tell you if British historicals are your thing, you like broken boys, and girls who mostly have their shit together, the series is worth spending time with. I would also tell you you're not missing a masterpiece if you pass it over.
In any case, this is the second book in her Bareknuckle Bastards trilogy, a British historical with a premise that out-what-the-fucks many other similar such trilogies. Basically, we have four people: Devil/Devon, Beast/Whit, Marwick/Ewan, and Dahlia/Grace. The second listed names are their birth names in some form. All four of these people were born on the exact same day. The three boys have the same father, but different mothers: that is, they are a Duke's issue from the wrong side of the blanket. Grace was born to the Duchess, who is married to the Duke at the time of Grace's birth, but the Duke is not her father. Meanwhile, the Duchess has taken a pistol and made certain there will be no further issue from said Duke. Instead of doing what most people did at this point, and realizing that third cousin Sir Popinjay over in Hampstead was going to be the successor, this fucking psychopath baptizes Grace as a male heir so as to have a placeholder, then goes and rounds up the three boys and spends a year or so recreating Thunderdome with his pre-adolescent children to see who's the strongest, aka, the one who will take the title.
Try not to be shocked: none of them makes it out without some type of PTSD. Ewan, having tried to kill all of them at the Duke's behest, holds the title. Dev, Whit, and Grace escape to London, where they make their names in fights, and then, naturally, build a kingdom of smuggling (the boys) and a bordello for women (Grace), and rule Covent Gardens, both through wealth and power and because they take care of those in it to the best of their ability.
By the opening of this book, Dev is married to a woman named Felicity who left society for him, and now we've got Whit doing his thing, being a businessman when he meets Henrietta Sedley, or Hattie. Hattie's an earl's daughter, but the title was granted to him by the Crown, and is only for life. Her father runs a shipping business and she has one goal: to get the business left to her. Hattie is too big a girl to be considered fashionable amongst society, too smart for most men to be interested, too outspoken to be who her father wants her to be.
Beast likes her pretty much from the get-go. Beast, on the other hand, doesn't talk a whole bunch, mostly wants to hide in his rooms with this soft furniture and his books, and basically just wants to keep everyone he loves safe. He is one of my preferred archetypes: the Very Burnt Marshmallow. (You know exactly what I'm talking about, don't even try to pretend otherwise.)
I find when people criticize MacLean it's often because they have a problem with her tropes. I think that's somewhat hypocritical, since, if you're reading romance, you're reading for some kind of trope. It might not be the ones MacLean leans into, and she might not be the author for you, but I actually appreciate her extra-ness, the way she's ride-or-die in her tropeyness. That's part of the joy of genre-fic.
Side-ish note: I'm more than a bit suspicious of anyone who thumbs their nose at indulgence in romance or genre-fic in general. Having pretentious taste in your romances won't make you any more respectable to the ivory tower. For evidence, please see: white gay men pretending POC queers don't exist in the pursuit of mainstream acceptance. Surprise: homophobes still don't differentiate.
In fact, I think the reason I like the second book in this series better than the first is because MacLean goes all in on tropes, both in terms of characters and plot. Also, I do love having an established couple being healthy and reasonable around. It helps that she scales back on dialogue in general here. Most of what came out of Dev's mouth in the first book made me think "who speaks like this??" Hattie and Beast have a much better flow despite him being a quieter guy. (Maybe because of it?)
Another major plus is that there's none of the mind-boggling miscommunication for miscommunication's sake that happens in the first book. There <i>are</i> misunderstandings, but they come from two people reading a single situation very differently. It doesn't feel like she needed an extra 2k words to fulfill her publishing contract, and just threw that in to get there.
There's a lot of interesting world-building in these books, a sort of recreation of what Covent Gardens could have been at any moment. Hattie's intensely relatable in a number of ways, and Beast is as well. The dialogue is still hit-and-miss, but a definite improvement over Wicked and the Wallflower. The background characters are a joy, and the plot and pacing move exceedingly well. Nothing about this book is terribly new or different, but it doesn't need to be. It's a well-written story about a headstrong woman and an anxiety-ridden man who's doing his best not to appear that way, and the fact that they complete each other.
I would tell you if British historicals are your thing, you like broken boys, and girls who mostly have their shit together, the series is worth spending time with. I would also tell you you're not missing a masterpiece if you pass it over.
