Love and Science: Courtney Milan’s The Countess Conspiracy

The Countess Conspiracy, Courtney Milan

The Countess Conspiracy, Courtney Milan

Oh. This book. From the dedication to the very last word–it’s so good.

And this review is full of spoilers because–as usual with Courtney Milan’s books–it’s impossible to talk about her work without them.

The Countess Conspiracy is the third book in the Brothers Sinister series and it focuses on Sebastian Malheur and Violet Waterfield.  Sebastian, as characterized in the previous books, is a flamboyant and rather famous scientist and Violet is a widow and friend of the Brothers Sinister who attends all his lectures.  There’s a reason for this and that reason is: she’s actually the scientist and he’s her mouthpiece.

But since she is a woman, she was unable to find a scientific journal willing publish her first paper until Sebastian agreed to put his name on it. At which point it became a work of genius, not just a woman messing around with flowers.

When this book starts, Sebastian is at the end of his ability to cope with the ongoing social repercussions of Violet’s research and has decided that he’s no longer going to be her mouthpiece–which puts her in an awkward position.  And it sets the main conflict of this book in motion.

There are other conflicts–between Sebastian and his brother, between Violet and her sister and mother–but the main one is this internalized conflict between Violet and herself. There’s never really any serious conflict between Violet and Sebastian and when there is, they generally talk it out like adults (so refreshing to see characters in a romance use their words). The conflict here is all inside Violet.

Violet has been told throughout her entire life that she can’t want–things, happiness, friendship, love. She has been told repeatedly that she is fundamentally unlovable and she’s completely internalized that message–her father rejected her, her mother set her out in society with an incredibly number of rules both public and private, and her first husband abused and raped her.

I think there’s going to be a lot of discussion around whether or not what happened between Violet and her first husband was rape or not.  I think it was–she did not want to have sex with him after it became clear that she was not going to be able to carry a child to term and that her life was increasingly in danger with each pregnancy–and he coerced her into consenting. There can be no true consent when coercion is present.  I do not care that her first husband’s actions were within legal bounds for the period.  Reproductive coercion is  abuse. He raped her.

But just as surely she also recalled what it had turned into: the slide into icy nothingness, every thrust of his hips attempting to erase her from the world.

And Milan has done something pretty remarkable with her characterization of him: that’s all he is.  We don’t know if he was otherwise kind to Violet or if he also kicked puppies.  We don’t know if he was generally well-liked by his peers or if he was a good dancer or if he was a terrible cart player.  All we know is that he is a rapist.  The text doesn’t provide the reader with any way to mitigate or excuse his deeds. And he never gets a name.  As far as I can tell, he’s never even referred to by his title.  He is essentially erased from the narrative. He is, ultimately, invisible–except for what he’s done to Violet.

It’s a really interesting parallel to the main theme of this book which is, to wit: women who have been erased from history.  This book is dedicated to Rosalind Franklin and to Anna Clausen–as well as to all the other unnamed women whose accomplishments went unrecorded.  I knew who Rosalind Franklin was and how, without her contributions, Watson and Crick would never have figured out the structure of DNA and how neither Watson nor Crick gave her credit. I didn’t know who Anna Clausen was, though, and wasn’t able to find anything out about her until I read Milan’s note at the end of the book.  Here, I’ll let the relevant passage from the paper that Milan cites speak for itself:

The research work was done almost exclusively during leisure  hours, and it had not been possible to get through without the kind and  very accurate assistance yielded by my wife, Fru ANNA CLAUSEN, during  the seasonal work on the experiment field. Artificial pollinations, back-  crossings, fixations, baggings and harvesting were made almost exclusively by her, and she assisted me also in the enumeration of  segregated types.

Hover for a more readable version.
Clausen, J. “Cyto-genetic and Taxonomic Investigations on Melanium Violets.” Hereditas. Volume 15, Issue 3. July 1931. Page 221.

Milan is pretty clear in her note that she doesn’t want to criticize J. Clausen. However, I will: You long-dead asshole, your wife did all your research for you and you took the credit.

Anyhow. Back to the book!

Violet, oh. I feel for her so much–she is so self-aware and so self-conscious. She knows what is expected of her and swallows down everything she wants for herself in favor of what other people want.

So Violet retreated into silence. She pushed away everything she didn’t want to hear. The rest of the world was swaddled in cotton, its sharp edges dulled so it couldn’t cut her.

And Sebastian–he’s been in love with Violet for practically his entire life. And he tells her so very, very early in the book. Much earlier than I was expecting him to.

“Violet, I played a role for you for five years. I bought a house near yours in London and installed gates by hand so we could talk about your work in secret. Don’t tell me that I’ve never given any indication that I loved you.”

And then he waits.  He is so incredibly patient and kind because while he doesn’t know exactly what hell she’s been through, he knows it’s been hell.  He acknowledges her experiences and her pain and knows that this isn’t something that can be forced. She has to come to him.

Nearly every single physical contact between them, after the first time he touches her hand, is initiated by Violet (“he might one day seduce her into not flinching when he took her hand”–oh the feels). She sets the pace of their physical relationship.  He asks to touch her. This is a book that is, very much, about consent.

This book is also a master class on how to do sexual tension.  It’s builds slowly and it’s absolutely agonizing and then the pay-off. So, so worth it.

One thing I thought interesting about this book was Milan’s decision to include PIV intercourse despite Violet’s terrible experience with it during her marriage–and the consequences thereof, which almost killed her (19 miscarriages. Nineteen.  I can’t even). It’s not their first sexual encounter with each other and Sebastian does use a rubber condom as well as withdrawing before he ejaculation.  I also noticed that this scene was written using much gentler language and even though it is fairly explicit, the gentler language keeps it more on the sweet side. I do wonder, though, if it would have been more subversive to forego the PIV intercourse altogether and only show Violet and Sebastian engaging in other kinds of sexual activities with each other. I think that would have been so, so, so interesting.

Sebastian is really remarkable in so many ways. One of my favorite things about him was the way he so easily slipped into a support role for Violet–making sure she eats, helping her with her experiments. At one point he even jokes about becoming a faculty spouse.

He smiled. “That is the entire point. Get your back up all you wish. Rage at me for hours. Feel uncomfortable. At the end of the day, I’ll still bring you apples and make you laugh.”

At the same time, he stands up for himself and what he needs–from Violet and from others in his life. He’s not a doormat. He knows what his boundaries are and, in fact, the trigger for Violet’s internal conflict is his decision that he could no longer pretend to be the author of Violet’s papers.

And then finally, Violet has an epiphany.  She has it after the scene which is, to me, the fulcrum of the novel: when she and Alice Bollingall, through collaboration and serendipity discover and photograph chromosomes.  That scene completely reduced me to tears, utterly.  But the epiphany:

Violet contemplated the mirror. When her husband called her selfish for refusing to go to bed with him, what had he meant?

I deserve my chance to have an heir more than you deserve to live.

When Lily said it would be selfish of Violet to ally herself with Sebastian, what did she mean?

My attendance at balls is more important than your happiness.

When Violet called herself selfish, that was what she meant—that she didn’t deserve the thing she wanted. Not happiness. Not recognition. Maybe not even her own life.

From this point on, Violet allows herself to want. She allows herself to become close to Sebastian, both emotionally and physically.  She stands up to her sister and mother (and her mother is one of the most interesting secondary characters–Violet’s relationship with her isn’t healthy but her mother’s actions at the end are unexpected and there’s a reveal which was both surprising and unsurprising at the same time). She reveals herself as the author of the papers Sebastian has been presenting.

There are also some really very funny bits, too.  I loved everything about the rake phylogeny and how it made something that was very difficult for Violet easier for her because it wasn’t serious–that the anticipation and buildup to the physical act was as–or more–important to Sebastian as the culmination of the sexy times.  I loved the scene where Violet is writing an angry letter to Sebastian while he’s sitting next to her and he has absolutely no idea.  I love that she gets drunk on some sort of horrible home brew liquor made from thistles and still manages to kick everyone’s ass at cards (the thistle home brew liquor reminded me, so much, of the maple mead from Bujold’s Vorkosigan books).

The reaction of the populace to her revelation is a bit far-fetched, but I didn’t care by that point.  I was way more interested in reading about how Violet and Sebastian come together as a couple, as two adults who know their own minds and who are capable of talking to each other about their problems than about the public aftermath of Violet’s talk, although she does get a magnificent speech:

“But they want to stop me. They want to shut me up—me and everyone associated with my work. If I show fear, they’ll never stop. I shall always be forced to defend myself from ludicrous charges.” Her chin went up. “They need to know that they have no recourse. That I am not afraid of them, not even if they throw the entire weight of the law at me. So yes, Your Worships. I discovered the truth. I told the world.” She straightened and glared at them. “I’m guilty.”

The whole book is just really wonderful.

Since I finished this book, I’ve been thinking about it and about the others in the series.  They’re all about women who have been denied their voices finding them–assisted by the men in their lives, but never at the whim of those men.  Serena, Minnie, Lydia, Jane, Violet.  All of them amazing women with agency. They are constrained by their time, but they still make choices.  And of all the women in this series so far, Violet is the closest to my heart.  For oh so many reasons but especially the way in which she is often her own worst enemy. Until she’s not.

Now, if you’ll excuse me: I need to reread this book.

Comments

  1. says

    I am in the middle of it just now, so I did a bit of skimming. But I’m loving it and it gives me the tingles to hear how much you loved it, too.

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  2. nu says

    Re: the forgotten women, wow, it is so great to see a romance author mention that because Romancelandia, including the authors sometimes, can seem so distinct from other spheres, particularly technology and science… Romance seems to exclude these women as surely as historians.

    ReplyReply
  3. squishydish says

    This sounds really interesting. I’m glad you reviewed it. If I’d seen it in a bookstore, then based on the title and cover, I probably wouldn’t even have bothered to pick it up and look at the blurb on the back cover.

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  4. says

    @nu: I think there are writers in Romancelandia who do keep this stuff in mind when writing, but it’s usually because they want their MC to be exceptional in some way–and Violet is certain exceptional, but she’s also not unusual. Women’s contributions are STILL being overlooked and forgotten and stolen. Still.

    @squishydish: The cover and blurb is pure marketing–woman in a poofy formal-ish dress = historical romance. All of Milan’s self-pub covers look more or less like this for that reason. If you’re interested in the thought process behind why the covers look like this, this is a really great explanation. But I do agree that it’s off-putting for people who aren’t romance readers and probably causes people to overlook books that they’d otherwise enjoy. Which is where book blogs come in, I think–I’ve picked up lots of books on the recommendation of bloggers I trust that I otherwise wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole and been pleasantly surprised.

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  5. says

    This series hasn’t worked for me, but I was planning on reading the book and even managed to get excited when I realized it was already out. But woman, this review is so GOOD! Gah! Now I’m really looking forward to reading it even if it’s just so I can come back and read the spoilery half I skipped!

    Re. the PIV sex. Obviously I haven’t read the book yet, but PIV sex is the be-all and end-all of Romance (and so is its brother, the vaginal orgasm). Sometimes I feel it’s even more necessary than the HEA, because even when the sex happens off page (or not at all), the PIV is either hinted at or we fill in the blanks based on our expectations. It would have been so great to finally get a book that subverted such a huge genre fixture, but I wonder if Milan feared it would have been too daring or perhaps didn’t even think about not including it, because it’s too much of a Romance standard that she (and we) can’t think outside of it.

    Anyway, lovely review!

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  6. says

    @Brie: You are making me blush! I just get so excited by MIlan’s books that I can’t help but go on and on and on!

    PIV really is seen as the ultimate intimacy in romance, isn’t it? I know we’ve talked about this on Twitter, which is probably why I was hoping that Milan would subvert that fixture, especially since it’s clear that it would be so dangerous for Violet to become pregnant.

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  7. Tan says

    Every time I start one of her books I know its going to be mind blowing and everytime I’m taken to this new level where I wonder How? How could she have pulled off such brilliance ? There is such a perfect kind of balance in this book in terms of all the different characters, the circumstances. I just finished and I am in awe. Milan is bloody brilliant !

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  8. Adelynne says

    Re: PIV sex. I will argue that Milan included it not because of Romance-convention but because it’s vital to the story. Note that she writes it exactly once, and fades to black on all other romantic interactions between Violet and Sebastian afterward. That scene is there because it’s the ultimate demonstration of Violet conquering her fear, not because it needs to be there to give readers second-person orgasms. She knows what she’s going to do in the morning, and that’s less scary to her than what she wants to do with Sebastian that night. That’s also the same reason there’s a PIV sex scene in A Kiss for Midwinter.

    Re: Rosalind Franklin. The characterization that she was denied acknowledgement by Watson and Crick is one that irritates me, and I say that as a Ph.D. in Molecular Bio who has held Franklin as a life-long hero and thinks James Watson is a giant asshole. In the first place, her paper with photo 51 was included in the very same issue of Nature that published papers by both Watson & Crick (placed directly after theris) and Wilkins. Secondly, the Watson & Crick paper acknowledges (VERY obliquely) that their model was “stimulated” by unpublished results from Franklin (& Wilkins, but UGH). Third, it’s not her sex that prompted Watson to steal her work, if that was the reason, Erwin Chargraff would be quite surprised to find himself female (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Erwin_Chargaff). Watson just plain STOLE. Wilkins showed him data without permission or knowledge, and he took advantage of it because he’s just that kind of asshole. If Crick knew how that came about at the time, he let it ride for the glory of it, and that’s just as despicable.

    And yet another thing that bothers me: remembering Franklin for only the way her work was stolen is robbing her of a lot more accomplishment. Her life didn’t end in King’s College. She went on to head a lab, make many revolutionary breakthroughs on RNA and the tobacco mosaic virus, and generally kick ass. She & Crick actually wound up being great friends, and he served as a mentor at times. She even stayed with him and his wife while undergoing treatment for the cancer that would eventually kill her. She was a brilliant and dedicated scientist, and if we only remember how she was mistreated we only remember her as a victim.

    Highly recommended reading: The Dark Lady of DNA by Brenda Maddox (http://www.amazon.com/Rosalind-Franklin-The-Dark-Lady/dp/0060985089).

    Re: Clausens. it is difficult to assign the correct attribution there, because what J. Clausen describes could easily be done by a technical assistant in the lab today (if there is one, a less well-funded lab would assign such work to a grad student, as Milan says), who would at most get middle-author attribution, but more likely just an acknowledgement like the one Anna receives. Given the time period, it’s likely that there was a greater collaboration than what is implied, but from the text it’s actually impossible to determine.

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  9. says

    @Adelynne: Hey, thanks for the perspective–I’ll definitely add that book to my list. I absolutely did not mean to imply that this was the only thing about her, just that this was a major theme in the book and that this was a real thing that did–and does–happen (I am not a scientist, but I do work in a somewhat technical field and I have definitely had my work used by colleagues without credit–not because I am a woman, but because I am a contractor and do not have a technical degree. But the contractor status and lack of a technical degree are things that were/are influenced by my sex and gender).

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