Musings: Summers at Castle Auburn

Summers at Castle Auburn is a book that has sat patiently on my shelf for over five years.  Someone- of course, I can't remember who it was- mentioned it in a blog post recently, so I decided it was time to pick this one up.  A light romantic fantasy seemed like the perfect way to start winter break.

Summers at Castle Auburn starts when Corie is 14 years old.  She's the illegitimate daughter of a deceased nobleman and a wise woman, and every summer since she turned six, her father's brother comes to take her away from her grandmother's home so that she can experience the life the other half of her upbringing deserves.  So every summer, Corie goes to Castle Auburn and spends idyllic months with the handsome Prince Bryan, on whom she has a massive crush, his cousin Kent, the beautiful enslaved Aliora that the gentry employs, and her favorite person in the world, her sister Elisandra.  But Corie is growing up and as we pass through the next four years with her, she begins to see people for what they really are, what they are capable of doing and, more importantly, what she must do to ensure her own happiness.

There were many things about this book that really stood out to me, in both positive and negative lights.  When I first realized that Corie had a beautiful half-sister, I felt certain that Elisandra would be the villain of this book.  When I realized that Corie loved her sister, I felt sure that Elisandra would be a perfect ice princess that no one knew.  When I finally met Elisandra, I assumed she would be the sort of great friend at the beginning that became a backstabber at the end of the book.  There were many stereotypical roads down which Sharon Shinn could have traveled, and she chose to follow none of them.  For which I am very grateful.  Elisandra was by far, in my opinion, the most complex and fascinating and interesting person in this book.  She was hard to know, yes, but she knew herself so well and held so fast to what she believed.  In a book full of fairly light and unambiguous characters, Elisandra stood out as someone who really understands power and the responsibility that goes along with it, and who weighed risks according to what she thought would be best for everyone.  She really strayed into moral gray areas, and I loved that about her.

I didn't really love the other characters, though.  Prince Bryan is some sort of sociopath, and I have no idea why so many of the women in the book were in love with him.  Supposedly they were completely blinded by his beauty, but I have difficulty respecting any girl who could have a crush on such a tool.  That's part of the reason why I never really warmed to Corie- if she could be so in awe of a guy for so long, she clearly is missing some sense.  Really, it seemed like Corie was blind to a lot of things for a very long time- the prince's selfishness, her sister's determination, her uncle's profiteering and the suffering of the Aliora slaves.  It's only when people point out to her what is going on that she finally seems to open her eyes and notice.

Also, one thing that bothered me a lot was Corie's inability to see that a certain guy was in love with her.  She kept assuming he was in love with her sister, even when the poor man gave her gifts, kissed her and basically told her he tried to become a better man for her.  I mean, how dense can you be?  This is something that upsets me in a lot of books.  I can't for the life of me understand why female characters are so often written as completely dense when it comes to romantic interests.  I think sometimes it's so that the male romantic lead gets the opportunity to give a big beautiful speech about how perfect the completely unaware heroine is, telling her that he wants her in his life no matter what, that life is empty without her, that he needs her to complete him, etc., etc.  And then the female lead realizes her heart is beating madly, her breathing is becoming haggard, and her eyes shine as she meets the hero's gaze and comes to the startling conclusion that she's been in love with him all along.

What is so wrong with women knowing that a man is attracted to her?  Big romantic speeches are very nice and quotable, but isn't there something to be said for the comfort and warmth that comes from knowing that you are appreciated and valued for more than the two minutes before you declare I love you and get engaged?  Or isn't there romance in two people knowing they are in love with each other earlier on, and then working together towards a goal they both believe in?  Or, perhaps, for a girl to realize she's in love with a man before he declares his feelings for her?  This happens not only in books, but in movies and TV shows and plays and any other cultural medium.  It's as though the girl needs the man to point out to her that she has value before she can believe it.  Or, worse, that the girl is so flighty and scatterbrained that she needs the sensible, kind-hearted man to set her straight on things.

I realize that this is a lot to be reading into a novel, and I'm not in any way saying that this book is worse than others that do the same thing.  It is a quick and enjoyably light read, but I just wish that the characters- Corie in particular- had a little more substance to them.