Blog Tour: Review of Love at Absolute Zero by Christopher Meeks

Title: Love at Absolute Zero

Author: Christopher Meeks

Edition: Paperback (uncorrected proof)

Publisher: White Whisker Books (2011)

Pages: 302

Challenges: Read Your Own Books Challenge; GoodReads 2011 Reading Challenge

How I Came by This Book: Love at Absolute Zero is a review request book. It was provided at no charge by the author in exchange for a review.

About the Author: Christopher Meeks began as a playwright and has had three plays produced. Who Lives? A Drama is published. His short stories have been published in Rosebud, The Clackamas Literary Review, The Santa Barbara Review, The Southern California Anthology, The Gander Review, and other journals and are available in two collections, The Middle-Aged Man and the Sea and Months and Seasons. He has two novels, The Brightest Moon of the Century, a story that Marc Schuster of Small Press Reviews describes as "a great and truly humane novel in the tradition of Charles Dickens and John Irving," and his new comic novel, Love At Absolute Zero. Visit his website at: www.christophermeeks.weebly.com

Synopsis: Love at Absolute Zero is the story of Gunnar Gunderson, a 32-year-old star physicist at the University of Wisconsin. The moment he’s given tenure at the university, he can think of only one thing: finding a wife. His research falters into what happens to matter near absolute zero (-459.67° F), but he has an instant new plan. To meet his soul mate within three days—that’s what he wants and all the time he can carve out—he will use the Scientific Method. His research team will help. Can Gunnar survive his quest? What happens if and when he goes to Denmark?

Review: A few years ago I watched a film starring John Cleese called Clockwise. It was about a man by whom you could set your clock—he was never late and no one around him was allowed to be either. Then, on the most important day of his life, things take a turn for the worse when one mishap after another makes him later and later for an awards ceremony. As I was watching this film, I kept getting that squirmy feeling of, “This could be me.” I’m late for pretty much everything—so much so that if I were ever to acquire a superpower, I’d want it to be the ability to control time. So, as I was watching Cleese’s character fail again and again to get to his ceremony on time, I found that I wanted to laugh at the funny bits but that I couldn’t. I was so nervous for him (and for myself) that at times I was too uncomfortable to laugh.

How does this have anything to do with a book about a physicist trying to find love? Gunnar Gunderson, our hero, is another one of those characters that was able to do that to me. Don’t get me wrong. I loved the book. Love at Absolute Zero is a funny, charming novel that mixes a pinch of science with a dash of romance that keeps you turning pages from beginning to end. It also, however, can make you nervous. Or, at least, it made me nervous. I found that the biggest strength of this novel was that the author, Christopher Meeks, was able to create a character that was I was able to relate to despite the fact that Gunnar’s occupation as a physicist is so utterly different from what I do. And because of this, the obstacles he runs into on the road to finding true love affect the reader even more.

Gunnar is a man with a plan: in three days he will find the love of his life using the one thing that he feels most comfortable with—the scientific method. Anyone who’s ever taken a science course will probably remember the scientific method. For those who don’t, it’s the process by which you ask some questions about a phenomenon, form a hypothesis, conduct an experiment, review your data to see whether or not the data backs up your hypothesis, and publish your findings. The whole method is designed so that your work can be verified by tests done by other scientists. If they do the same experiment and get the same results, then your hypothesis is proven even further. Poor, naïve Gunnar truly believes that this is a good way to meet his future wife and he dives in headfirst, dragging his two research assistants along with him.

In three days time, Gunnar trips and stumbles through eye surgery, braces, and speed dating in an attempt to find Mrs. Right. On the way he runs into the girl he used to have a crush on in school but never had the courage to ask on a date and a Danish beauty who seems as instantly smitten with Gunnar as he is with her. Gunnar soon finds that it may not be the scientific method pushing him towards love, but an even stronger force—fate.

This is the true battle in this book: determinism vs. controlled scientific experimentation. From page one, Meeks drives the reader forward with hints about what fate has in store for Gunnar. It leads the audience to engage in a bit of the scientific method themselves. They see the evidence in front of them in the first chapter and they come up with their own hypothesis, gathering data from that point on in an attempt to figure out what happens to make Gunnar so despondent at the beginning. As they engage in their experiment (i.e., reading the book), the reader is taken from Wisconsin to Denmark and back again, traveling with Gunnar from the height of love to the deepest despair all the way through to a satisfying conclusion. Along the way, the audience is forced to change their hypothesis as fate (and Meeks) keeps them guessing. It isn’t until the last page of the book, really, that the reader can say that Gunnar’s journey is over and that perhaps he may find love after all. Until then everything is pretty much up in the air.

As I mentioned earlier, Gunnar is the kind of character with whom readers can identify. As a nerdy guy who’s been unlucky in love, I found that I could empathize with Gunnar’s struggles. But all of the characters in this book are memorable in their own way—Ursula and Kara, Gunnar’s potential love interests; Svetlana, the sexy Russian college student; Gunnar’s research assistants, Carl and Harry; Henrik, Kara’s mischievous brother; and, most especially, Gunnar’s mother, the force-to-be-reckoned-with that ultimately helps determine Gunnar’s destiny. The novel is littered with bit-part characters, like the speed-dating girls, who leave just as much of an impression on the reader as the main actors in Gunnar’s life. Meeks demonstrates a remarkable ability to squeeze as much life as possible into even the most minor of players.

The dialogue in Love at Absolute Zero is good…for the most part. I find that when I read novels, I’m always most critical of what characters say and how they say it. Meeks is skilled at giving each character a distinct voice, but I found that some of the dialogue was either flat or that it didn’t seem realistic. In all honesty, this is the only thing about the book that I didn’t entirely like and it isn’t enough of an issue to make someone not enjoy the novel. One of the best things about the dialogue, however, is how Gunnar expresses his love of physics. As someone who is only marginally aware of how physics works (enough so that I can understand jokes on The Big Bang Theory or have a basic conversation on string theory), I found that, through Meeks, Gunnar is able to vocalize the importance of physics in our everyday lives and do it in such a way that it’s understandable. Meeks himself is no physicist, so his command of the material shows just how much research must have gone into the writing of this novel. By the end of the book I was able to say that I actually had a firm grasp of what a Bose-Einstein condensate is and why it’s important. Who says you can’t learn anything from novels?

I had never heard of Meeks before receiving this review request, but Love at Absolute Zero has made me very interested in reading his other works. This novel is a unique take on the love story and it was fun to read a book where it was the guy who was looking for love in all the wrong places. The lesson that I took away from this book is that the best laid plans of mice and physicist oft blow up in your face…but that doesn’t mean that life doesn’t have a few surprises of its own waiting around the bend for you.

I’m giving Love at Absolute Zero 4.5 out of 5 Gabriels. I thought the book was well-paced, funny, and chock-full of interesting characters, but I’m taking half a point off for occasionally stilted dialogue. I highly recommend this book. 

Coming tomorrow: my interview with the author of Love at Absolute Zero, Christopher Meeks!

Next stops on the tour:

-October 11th and 12th: Dan's Journal

-October 12th: Words I Write Crazy

-October 13th and 14th: Ramblings of a Daydreamer

-October 14th: Drey's Library

-Gabe

People Aren't Always What They Seem: A Review of Deanna Raybourn's Dark Road to Darjeeling

Title: Dark Road to Darjeeling
Author: Deanna Raybourn
Edition: Paperback
Publisher: MIRA Books (2010)
Pages: 388
How I Came By This Book: I've been following Deanna Raybourn's career ever since shortly after her first novel, Silent in the Grave, was published. I finally purchased this novel earlier this year at Borders and am only now getting around to it (despite the fact that her latest novel was just released and I'm dying to read it).
Challenges: Read Your Own Books Challenge; GoodReads 2011 Reading Challenge

 
Synopsis: After eight idyllic months in the Mediterranean, Lady Julia Grey and her detective husband are ready to put there investigative talents to work once more. At the urging of Julia's eccentric family, they hurry to India to aid an old friend, the newly widowed Jane Cavendish. Living on the Cavendish tea plantation with the remnants of her husband's family, Jane is consumed with the impending birth of her child--and with discovering the truth about her husband's death. Was he murdered for his estate? And if he was, could Jane and her unborn child be next?

Amid the lush foothills of the Himalayas, dark deeds are buried and malicious thoughts flourish. The Brisbanes uncover secrets and scandal, illicit affairs and twisted legacies. In this remote and exotic place, exploration is perilous and discovery, deadly. The danger is palpable and, if they are not careful, Julia and Nicholas will not live to celebrate their first anniversary.

Review: I first read a Deanna Raybourn novel, Silent in the Grave, back in 2007, shortly after it was first published. I'm not sure what caught my eye (perhaps the title?), but when I plucked it from my hometown library's shelves and perused the first page, I knew I had to read it. The first two sentences of her first novel embodied everything that I've come to love about her as a writer:

To say that I met Nicholas Brisbane over my husband's dead body is not entirely accurate. Edward, it should be noted, was still twitching upon the floor. (p. 13)

Since then I have devoured every one of her novels, including her first (and currently only) stand-alone, The Dead Travel Fast. 

Raybourn has managed to become, in a relatively short period of time, my favorite contemporary female writer. I will admit that I'm not a fan of historical fiction, mysteries, or romance novels, of which her novels contain an element of each. Yet, her skill as a writer, her unique voice, her twisting plots, and her endearing and unforgettable characters shatter every preconceived notion that I've ever held about these genres. Dark Road to Darjeeling stays well within the realm of mind-blowing fiction that I have come to expect from her.

I was actually reluctant to read it at first. It's why, I think, I took so long to purchase it and even longer to read it. It wasn't that I was worried that Raybourn would disappoint (I'm not sure she's capable of it), it was that at the end of Silent in the Moor, the third book in the Lady Julia Grey series, something happened that I was afraid would throw a wrench into the series: Lady Julia finally married Nicholas Brisbane. The sexual tension, snippy/snappy dialogue, and the frustration each of these characters caused in the other was one of the main reasons why they have become one of my favorite pairs in literature. Raybourn's ability to maintain this dynamic even after they had come together at last is due, I believe, to two factors. One, Raybourn knows these characters and has superbly shaped them into who they are through careful progress during the first three novels. Two, Julia and Brisbane's unconventional natures and their mild lack of disregard for social mores would make it almost impossible for them to be changed simply because they share a last name.

As with the rest of the series, Raybourn's characters, even her minor ones, are unimaginably complex, realistic, and memorable. Each one is given a voice, a history, a goal, a purpose. No one is extraneous and no one is thoroughly unlikable. Some of the standouts in Dark Road to Darjeeling are the mysterious White Rajah, the odd Cassandra Pennyfeather, and the inebriate Dr. Llewellyn. My favorite, however, is Cassandra's nature-loving son, Robin. Reminiscent of L'Engle's Charles Wallace (A Wrinkle in Time), the young Robin quickly endears himself to the reader because of his intelligence, his maturity, and his sweet nature.

Of course, some of Raybourn's usual characters show up, namely, Julia's sister Portia, her brother Plum, and Portia's ex-lover, Jane. These familiar faces are welcome in such a strange land with such a strange cast of characters and the plot line focusing on Jane's widowhood, impending motherhood, and reconnection with Portia is beautifully written. Having always been a fan of Portia and Jane's relationship, especially in such an uptight era as the Victorian age, I was devastated to learn that Jane had left and even more so to discover that she had married. Watching the two of them together again was comforting and the fact that I personally cared about Jane's well-being made the mystery of who had murdered her husband even more of a pressing issue than if it had been a new character or one that I didn't particularly like.

While we are on the subject, I will reiterate again what I think is one of Raybourn's biggest strengths: she always keeps you guessing. I stopped reading mystery novels when I started being able to tell, within the first half of the book, who had done it. After four Lady Julia novels, I have gotten better at discerning who the killer might be...but usually only about ten or twenty pages before it's revealed. Even still, I am never quite sure until it's finally confirmed. The end of Silent in the Grave had me literally gasping because I had never suspected the real killer for an instant. Dark Road to Darjeeling had me silently begging that my guess was wrong...which, sadly, it wasn't. In all of her novels, Raybourn deftly assembles a cast of characters, each with a possible motive, and then tangles their stories up in knots as Julia and Brisbane try to figure it all out, leaving the reader anxious to know because he or she seriously has no idea. It is telling of her skill that this is the case, especially in an age of cookie cutter murder mysteries and episodes of crime dramas where it's usually the first or second person that they interrogate. Anyone looking for a real mystery should definitely give these novels a try.

Everything about this novel is enjoyable: her sense of humor, her ability to juxtapose the lightness of life and the darkness of death, her vivid descriptions that create the locations her characters visit in your head as clearly as if you were standing beside them. You can smell the mountain air, taste the pungent tea, hear the roar of the tiger. Very few authors immerse you so fully into an environment without long, wordy descriptions; Raybourn is one of the most skillful at doing so.

The last thing I would like to note is how well she follows tragedy with comedy within this novel. It has a truly tragic ending, one that I didn't foresee and which touched me deeply. Yet, only about five pages later she has you laughing again, not forgetting what you have just read but allowing you a respite from the grief that the characters (and the reader) feel. It is the resolution of the catharsis that gives the reader a satisfying feeling even after such a crushing blow has been delivered.

I'm giving Dark Road to Darjeeling 5 out of 5 stars. This is one series which I believe anyone (regardless of age, race, gender, or reading preferences) can enjoy. If a sci-fi-loving guy like me can fall in love with these books, I'd bet that most people could, too.

-Gabe

PS: Here's a link to Deanna's website and blog. I'm also giving her her own tag because, let's face it, she's one of the only authors other than Neil Gaiman that I talk about on a regular basis.

In Which We Travel to Transylvania: A Review of Deanna Raybourn's The Dead Travel Fast

Despite the fact that I'm a huge fan of Deanna Raybourn's novels, I was a little skeptical about picking this one up. In today's world of vampiric over-saturation, I wasn't quite sure that I was going to like it. I'm getting really sick of anything that can turn into a bat and suck your blood and the idea that Raybourn had fallen prey to that sort of novel was, frankly, disturbing. I'm so glad that I was wrong. This novel was nothing like I expected it to be--it was far, far better.

Synopsis: A husband, a family, a comfortable life: Theodora Lestrange lives in terror of it all. With a modest inheritance and the three gowns that comprise her entire wardrobe, Theodora leaves Edinburgh--and a disappointed suitor--far behind. She is bound for Rumania, where tales of vampires are still whispered, to visit an old friend and write the book that will bring her true independence.

She arrives at a magnificent, decaying castle in the Carpathians, replete with eccentric inhabitants: the ailing dowager; the troubled steward; her own fearful friend, Cosmina. But all are outstripped in dark glamour by the castle's master, Count Andrei Dragulescu.

Bewildering and bewitching in equal measure, the brooding nobleman ignites Theodora's imagination and awakens passions in her that she can neither deny nor conceal. His allure is superlative, his dominion over the superstitious town, absolute--Theodora may simply be one more person under his sway.

Before her sojourn is ended--or her novel completed--Theodora will have encountered things as strange and terrible as they are seductive. For obsession can prove fatal...and she is in danger of falling prey to more than desire.

Review: Okay, so don't let the synopsis fool you. This book isn't some steamy romance novel with wooden characters that follows the same tired tropes. This is also not a vampire novel. I don't want to give anything away so I won't explain that sentence, just know that this is far from being a vampire novel. It is, in fact, a modern-day Gothic novel with just a hint of satire if you look hard enough for it. The Dead Travel Fast by Deanna Raybourn is her first novel to feature a heroine besides Lady Julia Gray. While I can't say I think much of Theodora's name, I came to really like her--and the Romania that Raybourn has created.

It's 1858. Theodora Lestrange is a writer, publishing her mystery stories under a male pen name but dreaming of the day when she can just write as herself. She has no desire for a husband or a family. In fact, she chafes at the very idea that her sister and brother-in-law would try to help set her up just because they think it will make her happy. To make matters worse, her publisher, Charles, is rather smitten with her and asks her to marry him. What's a girl to do? What any self-respecting heroine would do--she gets the hell out of Dodge.

Her friend, Cosmina, invites her to stay with her in Romania in preparation for her marriage to Count Andrei Dragulescu. When Theodora arrives at the castle, however, she finds that Andrei has scorned her friend, who tells Theodora that she is relieved because she didn't really want to marry him in the first place. Cosmina may not be attracted to him, but Theodora sure is. This guy exudes sexy. He's dark and mysterious and a Count. I mean, let's be honest here, who could say no to that? But Theodora does. She can tell that he's interested in her, but she doesn't want anything to do with him...at first.

Over time, she and Andrei strike up a friendship. He is an amateur astronomer, taking after his late grandfather, and he and Theodora spend quite a bit of time together talking about the stars and putting his grandfather's workroom back to rights. Where Theodora is from, this behavior is the height of impropriety; in Romania, it's perfectly okay for a man and a woman to talk together without a chaperon. Theodora finds Andrei, the castle, and the country intoxicating and freeing. She starts to plan on publishing the novel she begins working on in Romania under her own name and standing on her own two feet.

But things take a turn for the sinister when a maid in the castle turns up dead. The local doctor, a man by the name of Frankopan, tells Theodora the legends of vampires (strigoi) and werewolves. Being a logical woman, Theodora scoffs at the idea that the maid was killed by a vampire, but she soon finds herself believing quite a lot of things after a series of strange events in the castle. As the book progresses, Theodora goes from being a rational woman from Scotland to being a believer in the stories that she keeps hearing from the people around her. When Charles, her wannabe suitor shows up to collect her, he's shocked to find out that she's not the woman he knew only a short while ago. What's even more shocking, however, is what happens next.

I don't want to give anything else away (and, to be honest, I'm leaving a whole bunch of stuff out) so go and pick up a copy of this novel. While Theodora is no Lady Julia, she is a wonderful heroine in her own right. She's independent and stubborn and she knows that she doesn't need the love of a man to be someone. She wants to succeed because of what she does, not because of who she's married to. An almost unheard of notion at this time in history, Theodora is almost anachronistic and yet she's entirely believable. Because this is Transylvania, things are less strict and she's able to be more of who she wants to be. She changes throughout the course of the novel into the kind of woman that I could be attracted to if she were real--sensual, strong, brave.

Andrei Dragulescu is another matter entirely. I liked him and then again I didn't like him. He was a very well-created character, deep and with plenty of personality and history to keep my interest, but there were parts of him that I found to be rather obnoxious. I don't want to get into them too much because it would ruin some of the better parts of the book but I will say that I'm not quite sure that I found his change in attitude at the end of the novel to be entirely realistic. He is, of course, a swoon-worthy character and I'm sure that many females reading this book will find themselves drooling over him (I won't judge you for that). He's also quite fascinating but that cocky playboy attitude did get sort of taxing at times.

Also of note character-wise are Dr. Frankopan, the Countess (Andrei's mother), and Florian, the musically-gifted steward whose life circumstances made it impossible for him to follow his dreams. I could have used a bit more Florian to be honest, but the other characters in the book are just as great. Raybourn has a particular talent for creating unique characters that have not only their own voice but their own presence. She's also gifted at dialogue, description, plot, first person narration, and pretty much anything that a writer could possibly be good at.

I will admit that at times the book moved a little slowly, but for the most part it was well-paced. Some of the descriptions were so beautiful and detailed that I found myself rereading them, so maybe that accounted for part of the reason why it took me a few days to get through this book. I was utterly transported to Transylvania through Raybourn's words. I saw the castle, the surrounding countryside, the people, the village. Everything was clear in my head and I know that if I were to read this book fifteen years down the road, I'd still revisit those same images because they were so vivid and memorable.

As always, Raybourn's romance is subtle, restrained, and entirely romantic. There's no long detailed sex scenes, no ridiculous over-usage of words like "bosom," "heaving," "member," or any number of other words associated with books of a certain nature. That's because Raybourn's novels are never like those books. It's part of the reason why I shudder to even talk about these in terms of their romantic undertones. Raybourn is respectful of her audience and writes them so that even those of us (guys especially) who hate romance can enjoy them. They're smart and they're fun to read and they in no way deserve such ridiculous covers. If Silent in the Grave had originally had a cover like this book, I never would have picked it up and I would have missed out on a delightful author.

I'd say if you've never read one of her books before, start with her Lady Julia novels. I like the heroine a lot more and Nicholas Brisbane is, in my mind, ten times the man that Andrei Dragulescu will ever be. But if you get though those books and you're looking for a Raybourn fix, this is a good book to pick up while you wait for the next one to come out (The Dark Enquiry comes out in June for anyone who's curious).

I'm giving The Dead Travel Fast 4 out of 5 stars. It was a good book, but not one of her best, and parts of the end felt a little rushed. I was, however, very surprised by the "whodunit" reveal. Raybourn is one of the only mystery novelists who tends to keep me guessing until the end.

-Gabe