WARNING: CONTENT AND MILD SPOILER ALERT ⚠
2 1/2 Stars
Reviewed by Introvert Reader
Catherine Coulter takes her propensity to create unlikeable heroes and dials it all the way up to “11” in her supposed romance, The Lord of Hawkfell Island.
Mirana is a young, unmarried woman who lives with her brother in a fortress in Ireland. When he’s away, their home is attacked by Viking raiders seeking vengeance against him, as the Viking leader Rorik blames him for the death of his wife and child. Usually, a hero grieving over his lost love is grounds for me to dislike a historical romance, but thanks to Rurik, I had plenty of other reasons to despise this “love story.”
I shouldn’t even call this a love story because–let’s get this right out the gate–Rorik never says a single word of love to Mirana. And it’s not because he’s so filled with sorrow over his loss. He’s just an unfeeling, cruel, petty, boorish boar. I detested him so much I created a Goodreads shelf labeled “jerky pig hall of fame” for him and his porcine brethren.
Rorik kidnaps Mirana as a hostage, not out of lust, but because he’s on the boys’ team and Mirana’s on the girls’ team, and boys are supposed to torment icky girls because boys rule and girls drool.
Rorik, The Viking Philosopher
Yes, you read that right. For although externally Rorik has the appearance of a strong, 30-something Viking warrior, his demeanor is that of a gangly 10-year-old-boy who’s on the verge of adolescence. He thinks girls are gross and stupid, yet gets a weird, tingly feeling whenever a particular one is around. So instead of reacting like a mature, well-adjusted male to that particular sow (or female) who gets him hornt up, our hero spouts insults like:
“I told you that my men really have no interest in you. You’re skinny, not at all appetizing. A man would have to be starving for a woman before he would turn his eyes to you.”
Saying mean things to Mirana alone wouldn’t merit Rurik a place at the Big Pigs’ table, though. Sure, he gets naked and bathes in front of her, taunting her in an “I-know-you-want-me-but-you-cannot-have-me-so-look-at-how-hot-I-am” sort of way. That’s cute.
He also threatens to sic his dog on her:
“I’ll have my dog kill you. He’s vicious. He protects me and my island.”
Rorik accuses Mirana of incest (and being damn good at it):
“Do you lust after him, your own kin? Is that why you’re still unwed? Perhaps he has already bedded you. You aren’t young, after all. Does he hold you above his other whores?”
He chains her up with heavy iron links–no cloth under the metal to protect her skin–and keeps her that way for days on end, deprives her of food, beats her, and neglects her. Later he gets more brutally physical, punching Mirana in the jaw, stepping on her throat, and whipping her!
So, to sum up: Rorik abducts Mirana, tells her she’s so ugly no man would sleep with her, except her brother, of course, threatens her with murder and rape, abuses her, tortures her, and spouts Schwarzenneggerian brilliance as:
“The man rules. It is he who protects the woman, he who provides shelter and food for her. It is his right to bed with a bear if he wishes to. It is I who am the lord here, and all obey!”
He’s a beast, all right. Well, charisma goes a long way, thank goodness.
Alas, Rorik has zero charisma to back up his nasty demeanor.
So What’s To Like?
Then, why didn’t I one-star this book if the hero’s so loathsome?
For one thing, Mirana gives back as good as she can. She’s a solid character who deserves a better man. How about her evil brother? 😉
And second, it’s kind of funny if you can disassociate from it all. Rorik is so childlike in his hatred for Mirana. I’m surprised he didn’t wipe his boogers on her or play “I’m not touching you” with his finger hovering an inch from her face.
Sure the guy’s a looker and he’s lord of an island, but with his protozoan personality, who wants him? Sleeping with Rorik would be akin to doing it with Colleen McCullough’s “Tim” inhabited by the spirit of South Park’s Eric Cartman on D-Bal Max.
Ultimately, what pulls this book together has nothing to do with romance. It’s all due to Mirana and a supporting cast of female characters who forge a strong network of relationships to help each other grow and thrive in a world that’s brutal and unfair.
On the one hand, we have Rorik and his dopey gang of followers with their collective IQ & EQs of (I’ll be generous) 105. On the other hand, we have the Hawkfell Island women’s team. The central theme is all about “The Battle of the Sexes.”
Caring for Mirana is a servant woman, Utta, married to one of Rorik’s men. A beautiful yet simple slave girl named Entti is treated as a bounce house for the Vikings to play with, and she gets no respect. The women unite to get back at the men in ways they can, like giving them inedible food and refusing sex.
After a while, the men determine that Mirana’s behind the women’s uppitiness, and Rorik attempts to rein her in. He decides he will marry Mirana and control her through force of will. Mirana, for some reason, develops feelings for the Neanderthal. So, at last, they share something in common: love for Rorik. Indeed, there’s a match made in Valhalla!
When the men get fed up with the women’s antics, they threaten Mirana with all kinds of bodily harm, and Rorik does nothing to stop it. He spouts perplexing threats like: “I will rape you if you force me” when Mirana refuses him his marital rights. By The Lord of Hawkfell Island’s conclusion, Rorik and Mirana are paired off…because that’s what a romance demands. Rorik remains the same unfeeling brute he was in the beginning.
Final Analysis of The Lord of Hawkfell Island
The kindest, most intimate thing Rorik says to Mirana is:
“You are very nice,” he said forcing his eyes back to her face. “You are pleasing to me.”
If that’s enough to spark your interest, and you have a perverse curiosity to observe an exaggerated caricature of a supreme male chauvinist pig in action, while a crew of much savvier women maneuver social politics and gender roles, then, by all means, take a gander at this book.
Whatever “this” is, that Catherine Coulter wrote. On some level, The Lord of Hawkfell Island is fascinating. I wouldn’t call it a romance, though.