This review has a bit of a backstory. First of all, to get the legal issues out of the way, I was planning to buy this and asked one of my writer frieThis review has a bit of a backstory. First of all, to get the legal issues out of the way, I was planning to buy this and asked one of my writer friends who is associated with Torquere to buy me one, since Torquere doesn’t accept PayPal. Instead of charging me, he gave it to me as a gift.
Here’s the backstory. A few month ago, Torquere Press put out a call for submissions for a historical anthology titled “Chain Male”, which then, sadly, didn’t happen, with Torquere citing that they didn’t get enough quality stories to do this. Be that as it may, Kate Cotoner’s story “Enslaved” is what is left of the anthology project, and was published in Torquere’s “Sip” line of stand-alone short stories.
Looking at the generic cover and reading nothing but the blurb, I admit a little trepidation. Would this be one of those famous “slave fics” that have a large and loyal following? Would this feature BDSM, humiliation and power games and a crusader reduced to a whimpering sex slave? The crusades are probably my favourite subject in the vastness of the Middle Ages, and I admit to feeling even more protective of them than of the rest of history.
So I braced myself a lot before opening the file.
And relaxed. Relaxed some more. Slowly, a smile started to spread, and in the end, I was so pleasantly surprised that I read the story two more times. For the review, I’ve read it twice more. I’m happy to report this is not your typical slave story. I’m even more happy to report it has actual research (!) in it.
But first things first. Falk du Plessis, the squire of his brother, a Templar Knight, survives the battle of Hattin, the medieval equivalent of Gallipolli, in short, a disastrous, all-out battle that decimated the already thin-stretched military resources of the crusader kingdoms to breaking point. At the time when it happened, our historical witnesses tell us that they didn’t think the knightly orders would recover from the loss of men and materiel. It was a turning point in the rich history of the Crusades, an iconic battle with a bloody aftermath, when the prisoners were put to the sword rather than ransomed, and the rest sold on the slave market.
Falk is lucky, he gets sold as a slave. But instead of the all too typical “woe is me” scene in the slave market, we get a Falk who’s actually optimistic. He’s a strong character, calm, and just damn glad he lived. I really enjoyed that inner strength that is so far removed from all the melodrama a lesser writer would have put in there to make an impact in such a short story (16 pages, a total of 6-7thousand words). But Kate Cotoner is not a lesser writer, in fact she’s a pretty damn good writer who has clearly made an effort to make this real, human, authentic and true.
(...) It’s a more quiet, more real story than you usually get, with a character who’s gay, has some experience, and even that rang true—little drama about forbidden homosexuality here, mostly because Falk is usually careful (he has reason to) and because he is not of high enough status to make this political for him. When he gets bought by a Syrian, Sinan, their relationship is not typical of a “slave fic”, either.
It’s a sweet, gentle romance between two men who share more than divides them, and it’s also not soppy at all. Cotoner trusts her characters to let them tell the story, and the actual love/sex scene is delightfully free from men shouting each others’ names in the throes of climax, or confessing undying love five minutes after meeting.
I have to have one little niggle – there’s a paragraph in the text that goes on about how "everybody knows bathing is unhealthy."
Bathing culture in the middle ages (the battle of Hattin places this story firmly into the late 1180ies) was actually doing alright. The “unhealthy” reputation of bathing came when the Plague and likely syphilis spread via the beloved and often-used bathing houses. We still have a few Roman baths, sometimes surviving as parts of monasteries, but in general, our European ancestors did like being clean. It’s in the 14th century and later that that goes slowly down the drain. Not bathing, however, was part of the ascetic ideal, so very holy people wouldn’t bathe to mortify the flesh (yeah, I’d be mortified, too), but those are extreme cases.
So, a short, sweet read that went completely against my expectations, well-told, with an ending that promises more between the two characters. In fact, these two should be a match made in heaven, and I’d really like to read more about their adventures during the decline of the crusader states, or wherever Cotoner takes them.
If I have to choose a favourite, the vote is clearly on “Blessed Isle” by Alex Beecroft. I read her “False Colours” and it blew me away, and she did IIf I have to choose a favourite, the vote is clearly on “Blessed Isle” by Alex Beecroft. I read her “False Colours” and it blew me away, and she did I t again, with less words. Minor craft issues I had with “False Colours” (focusing on viewpoint, voice, and pacing) are gone in “Blessed Isle”. Beecroft continues to astound and amaze, and this story went down like very old, accomplished Bordeaux wine, served just exactly right. It’s not a story that you can “just read”, you have to savour it. The language was pitch-perfect, and I recommend taking your time to work out the nuances and let them resonate. Sometimes, prose is so well-made that it becomes a rush and a pleasure all by itself. The story Beecroft tells and the exploration of the characters just heighten the pleasure, but it’s always her prose that gets me first. Were “Blessed Isle” on it’s own, it would be a rare five stars.
“No Darkness” by Jordan Taylor sets out on a very difficult task—to tell a story with two men in a cellar, fearing impending death, and growing close by telling their stories. The story is heavy on dialogue, and attempts to draw the characters by dialogue, a task that it didn’t quite accomplish for me. While I can believe that hysteria and stress (one is wounded) can make people sound more cheerful than I would expect them to sound under such circumstances, there were moments in the dialogue where I thought that the characters were on the verge of being self-indulgent, telling all those anecdotes while quite literally fighting for their lives. I’d expect more of the raw stress and fear to come out, so I would have tightened up the dialogue quite a bit more than was done. The strongest parts of the story, I felt, were those where the characters don’t talk.
For anybody writing in the genre, or thinking about jumping into the little pond, this should absolutely be required reading. I would hope that this bFor anybody writing in the genre, or thinking about jumping into the little pond, this should absolutely be required reading. I would hope that this book helps prevent some of the train wrecks I’ve seen in the genre. Get it today. ...more
Just finished this and liked it. It's a gentle, impeccably historical story dealing with two lovers meeting again at a temple of healing. As always, IJust finished this and liked it. It's a gentle, impeccably historical story dealing with two lovers meeting again at a temple of healing. As always, I enjoy being in the hands of a historian (or somebody who's done their research in terms of history) - everything from the sacrifices to the details of healing in Ancient times reflects the time it's set in. A short, gentle read about love, second chances, and the healing power of forgiveness and new starts. ...more
**spoiler alert** Overall, I enjoyed this sometimes pulp-ish coming-of-age story of a crossdressing character who bounces back from adversity and find**spoiler alert** Overall, I enjoyed this sometimes pulp-ish coming-of-age story of a crossdressing character who bounces back from adversity and finds a hidden strength that nobody thought he/she possessed. I’m catching myself thinking this could actually make a pretty good film, too. ...more
The literary equivalent of a brassknuckled punch in the gut. Some books are inarticulate screams. The ones that are articulate, though, are even worseThe literary equivalent of a brassknuckled punch in the gut. Some books are inarticulate screams. The ones that are articulate, though, are even worse. ...more