REVIEW: Fires of Winter by Johanna Lindsey (1980)

I recently endured a Buddy Read of Johanna Lindsey's Fires of Winter with our BR buddy, Sarah. While I still read Lindsey despite myself (because I'm a sucker for pain), I don't think Sarah will ever pick up another Lindsey title ever again. My pithy (and too generous) review is here. Sarah's epic review is the one that should be featured on the blog.  --Karla

★
Once upon a time, there was a warrior maiden of reluctant femininity who fell in love with the slightly emo (but always badass) second son of a noble family. 

...But this is not their story. This is FIRES OF WINTER, a bucket of dead tree barf that was cobbled into really cheap toilet paper, the sort of thing Eowyn & Faramir would use to wipe their dogs’ feet on a slushy winter morning. 

Truly, this is one of the worst books I’ve ever read. It’s not even bad in a funny way – it’s just Really, Really Annoying. To draw even the vaguest comparisons between Eowyn/Faramir & Brenna/Garrick is to insult one of my favorite pairings in the literary universe – and so I’ve found more appropriate imagery to support my low opinion of these illiterate, uncommunicative knuckleheads. Sure, it took an exhausting search through thousands of images in Google – but after much consideration I’ve settled upon the following representations. Please forgive me for overreaching the boundaries of traditional romance. Instead I've drawn upon a genre completely unrelated to Vikings, horses, & firelight – beyond the scope ofThe 13th Warrior, Tolkien, Celtic myth, Norse lore, & the surface of our little blue planet. 

 

I urge you to forget the image presented in that (very pretty) vintage cover by Bob McGinnis. Instead, you shall behold the well-deserved faces of our hero & heroine. 

Garrick

Ok, sure – Garrick’s not green. But his ineptitude a warrior is matched only by Greedo’s ineptitude as a bounty hunter. Actually, I’m inclined to give Greedo the upper hand in this little arm-wrestling match, since Garrick spends the entire book mooning over mugs of milky mead & bemoaning his poor broken heart. What few times he attempts usefulness, he’s kicked in the nuts by hillbilly rapist!vikings, & from there he crawls back to be flogged senseless by Brenna’s shrill feminista screeches. Even Greedo had enough sense to stay on the other side of the table.  

Speaking of tables (or rather, the brainz of one)... 

Brenna

Jar-Jar Binks – aka the most reviled creature in the Lucas pantheon. He’sa da cause of all da evil in da galaxy. Intellect-wise, he & Brenna are on par with the thickest lump of wood that was ever chopped from a pine. Even worse, both Jar-Jar & Brenna are the sorriest excuses for anything that’s noble in heroic stories. There’s no wry humor they can’t ruin, no moment of personal growth they can’t kill, no pain they can’t inflict with their lack of foresight, no outrageously over-blown skill they can’t claim before getting kicked in the face by inept soldiers of fortune in rubber suits or leather breeches. (And if you squint real hard, those floppy bits on Jar-Jar’s head look like flowing tresses.) 

So see, I’m not as crazy as you thought. ;) 

At this point, I could write a summary of what plot there is & rant about it until everyone hated me as much as I hated Brenna…but no. That’s letting Brenna & Garrick down too easy. 

Without further ado, I present: 

FIRES OF WINTER: A PARODY IN SCREENPLAY. 
[now with extra drama, colorful metaphors, & picspam] 

BRENNA: I’m so totally a warrior! My mommy died & my daddy raised me like a son when I was little. I killed a boar when I was 9 & I will never be ruled by a man. You hear me, world? I’m 17 & I’m unmarried & I shall never be subjected by unfair patriarchal rulership. I will never be tamed! 
BRENNA’S DAD: Actually, no. You’ll marry the first available Viking chieftan we can find. You’ll do the noble thing & somehow avert bloodshed & crisis, because if you’re married to a Northman they’ll leave us alone. 
BRENNA: I refuse! I will never be tamed! 
DAD: You will. 
BRENNA: I won’t. 
DAD: Go away so I can die in peace, dammit. 
BREN: This sucks so much. What can I do to avoid being subverted by horrible males the rest of my life? 
DELLA: It’s even worse at night. They put their organs between your legs & make you beg for mercy. 
BREN: Eeeew! 
DELLA: Ha. Now you’ll never know that sex is actually a very good time. 
DELLA’S HUSBAND: I want to plow your little sister. 
DELLA: That’s why I hate her with the unreasonable passion of a thousand fiery suns! 
DELLA’S HUSBAND: But I’m nothing but a meaningless cog for interpersonal conflict, see? I have, like, three speaking lines. In fact, I serve no purpose but Viking fodder. 
DELLA: Huh? 
DELLA’S HUSBAND: Viking fodder. As in killed by vikings. Like the ones attacking us right now. 
BRENNA: We must defend ourselves! 
AUNT LINNET: But your father is dead. We are defenseless! 
BREN: I’m as good as any boy! I know strategy & footwork & proper codes of conduct for battle & all the cool stuff that is un-womanly. 
DELLA: I still think those vikings will rape us. 
BREN: Then go sit in a corner & be useless, just like all women who do womanly things for the good of patriarchal society. I, meanwhile, will do what’s needed to defend our home from these murdering asswipes. 
LINNET: Can’t hear you, honey. We’re being raped. 
VIKINGS: Yaaaaar! 
BREN: Omg, why are you beating me at swordfighting?! I’m a quarter of your weight & have a flimsy breakable sword my father gave me as a lark! 
ANSELM THE VIKING: Too bad I was never going to honor your engagement, otherwise you’d make my son a fine bride. 
BREN: I will never be tamed! 
ANSELM: I will give you to my son as a slave. Women with spirit are funny dinner entertainment – and I think you can heal his broken heart after his floozy fiancee ran off with a rich merchant. 
BRENNA: I’ll give you the silent treatment as a sign of my indominable will. 
LINNET: Please don’t kill her for giving you attitude. She’s always been a spoiled brat. 
ANSELM: Yowza, baby. Wanna be my bedslave? The wife won’t mind. 
LINNET: Sweet. I have the protection of the clan leader now. 
DELLA: Hey! I want a clan leader too. 
ANSELM: Don’t worry, I have another son. 
BREN: I’ll sit alone & pretend I can’t understand your language. That will give me the upper hand as I plot to dominate your heathen society with my awesomeness. 

[Visual interlude:] 

GARRICK: Dad, who’s this hottie slave you gave me? 
ANSELM: She’s the girl whose father I tricked into believing I would have as my daughter-in-law. 
GARRICK: But I don’t want a wife. You know I had my heart broken once & now I’m convinced all women are conniving, evil bitchfaces. 
ANSELM: Don’t you remember that incredibly vague story about your being kidnapped by celtic peeps & tortured for no reason? I decided to have revenge upon other celtic peeps as payment for your mistreatment. 
GAR: Um. Logic gap. 
HUGH: Shut up, baby bro. I want to plow that bitchy girl Dad brought home. 
BRENNA: I will kill you all in hand-to-hand combat! 
LINNET: She just needs to be treated kindly. She's actually quite fragile inside. 
BREN: Give me a sword & I’ll prove myself, you Viking bastards! I hate this Viking homestead. I hate this Viking weather. I hate the smell of your stinky Viking breath. I hate the sound of your heathen Viking voices. I hate the color of your sleazy Viking skies. 
GARRICK: She seems rather...shrill. 
LINNET: Nah, that’s just because her father died last weekend. 
BREN: I’ll stomp my feet & demand to be treated with privilege solely because my name is Brenna & I’m better than all of you losers who can’t understand why I’m not behaving like a cowardly woman. I will never be tamed! 

[Visual interlude:]

GAR: Shut up & finish making this rug. 
BREN: I won’t. 
GAR: You will. 
BREN: I won’t. Rugs are womanly labor, damn you! I’m so insulted that I’ll stomp my feet & put my arms akimbo & pull your stuff from your trunks & throw clothes all over the room! 
GAR: But…you are a woman. 
BREN: And what do you mean by giving me a decent bed to sleep in & food to eat & not beating me for my constant bitchy attitude?! 
GAR: This is highly irregular behavior for a slave. You don’t have much common sense, do you? 
BREN: That’s because I will never be tamed! 
GAR: Oh, right. I’m big & dumb & ineffectual, so I’ll give you more latitude than any self-respecting Northman would allow. 
BREN: Speaking of which, I refuse to drink milk. 
GAR: Huh? 
BREN: Milk is for babies! And children! And women! 
GAR: ...I like milk. 
BREN: Fuck you & fuck milk. I throw your milk in your face & cry because you won’t give me liquor. 
GAR: I am oddly aroused by this tantrum. 

[Visual interlude:] 

GARRICK: Now that you’ve kept your arms akimbo for three days straight, it’s time I raped you to show I’m the master here. 
BRENNA: I refuse to let you try a forced seduction. 
GAR: Why? 
BREN: Because my sister told me sex was hurty & painful & unpleasant & I’ve inexplicably believed her all-knowing about this topic. 
GAR: Sex is fun when you’re both into it. Not that I’ve had any since my floozy ex ran off with a merchant & I’m so boo-hoo broken hearted...but whatever. I’ll kill two birds with one stone & break you in like a proper slave.
BREN: Oh, the irony! I’m not afraid of violence or anything masculine, but I’m terrified of that which embodies my most feminine aspects! 
GAR: Aw, it’ll be okay. I won’t hurt you. 
BREN: I dunno… 
GAR: Lemme show you. 

[Visual interlude:] 

GARRICK: Mmmmm. 
BRENNA: Mmmmm. 
GAR: Oooooooooooh! 
BREN: OoooooOOOOOOooh, that IS fun! 
GAR: See, I told you. 
BREN: …Actually, it kinda sucked. 
GAR: Huh? 
BREN: I’m a Strong Woman. I will never be tamed! I can’t admit you were any good, because then you’d be dominating me. Instead I’ll blow the smallest conversations out of proportion & turn every interaction into a battle of the sexes, all of which is a set-up for me to bend your weak will around my little finger. 
GAR: ...Or is it? Maybe I’ll use your desire for me as a weapon against your emotional armor & make you regret treating me like shit. 
BREN: Nah, not really. I just like your oh-so-manly organ. 
GAR: Really? 
BREN: Yeah. But from now on I can only relay that enjoyment second-hand through conflicting parties. Admitting it to your face would imply emotional growth & acceptance that sometimes unpleasant beginnings can grow into pleasant contentment, if not outright happiness. That’s maturity, see? And I can’t touch that shit with a ten-foot pole because I will never be tamed! 
GAR: I r confused. 
BREN: Them’s the breaks, hon. 
GAR: Screw this emotional stuff. I’ll just assault you without permission. That’ll learn you for abruptly deciding to weave rugs like a normal woman. 
BREN: Ha, I only agreed to make your rug to throw you off the scent of my escape plan. 
GAR: Curse my small brain! 
BREN: No worries. I’ll make a huge deal about erasing the tracks of my horse, but I’m stupid enough to forget the dog as he’s running along beside us. You’ll find me in, like, three days. 
GAR: Awesome. Let’s be sure to make camp on top of a sleeping bear. You can save my life, because I’m an utter FAIL at Viking stuff like, y’know, killing with spears & arrows. 
BREN: Sure thing, sport. 
GAR: And we contrive it so you challenge for your freedom, but are still unwillingly attracted to your so-called enemy. That way you can be afraid to hurt me with your superior swordsmanship & have a conflict of interest between your femine lust for my body & your masculine desires for equality & freedom in this evul patriarchal society. 

[Visual interlude:] 

BRENNA: Cough, cough. Sniffle, sniffle. I r sick after running away & being thrown in the punishment cell. 
GARRICK: I couldn’t show you special treatment, remember? 
BREN: But if you hadn’t given me milk earlier I wouldn’t have tried to escape. Damn your milk & your rug-making & your awesome manly-male organ of pleasure! 
GARRICK: Here, take these expensive armbands & gold-emboidered gown to show how I’m unwilling to share you. 
BRENNA: I'll just put my arms akimbo & stomp my feet & dare you to abuse me like a slave, so I can hold that over your head to make you feel emotions. I’m a shrew & I’m shrill & I will never be tamed! 

[Visual interlude:] 

CEDRIC THE GROTTY KIDNAPPER VIKING: Ah-ha! I’ve been paid by a Mystery Woman to kidnap & mistreat you! 
BREN: I just fainted from terror. Thanks a lot. Did I mention that I will never be tamed? 
CEDRIC: I don’t give a shit. 
BREN: Then why have you taken me? 
CEDRIC: I dunno. I think it’s some absurdly complicated plan for revenge that nobody cares about. 
BREN: I see. And you're naked because... 
CEDRIC: Because I’m a grotty kidnapper & I like to inflict pain on my victims. Oh, yes. I looooove pain. I’m such a sadist. See, I’ve got scars all over my body & if there was such a thing as S&M clubs, I’d go every weekend to get my kink on. 
BREN: Your peen is enlarged! Does that mean you raped me while I fainted?! 
CEDRIC: Not yet. I have an oh-so-convenient need for my victims to be awake while I rape them, otherwise I can’t get it up. But now that we're having this conversation... 
BREN: Yeah, I'll pass. I’m just gonna stab you & get the hell out of here. 
CEDRIC: You’ll be wandering around for weeks in the snow, you know. Just a warning. 
BREN: My lover will be searching for me. 
CEDRIC: Nah, he’ll hate you. He hates me too. It’s some family feud thing. 
BREN: You can't talk now, remember? You're dead. 
CEDRIC: ...Or am I? 
BREN: I can’t hear you, grotty kidnapper Viking. I’m too busy wandering for weeks in the snow because Garrick & his awesome manly-male organ think I’ve run away. 
GAR: You’ve hurt my feelings & I won’t forgive that. See, I’m more of a woobie-rake from the Regency than anything else. I have yet to do anything remotely Viking-like, so you can’t really expect me to act like a badass & claim you again, though part of me admires that you've managed to survive for weeks in the unforgiving Nordic environment with nothing more than a paperclip, a pencil, & a stick of gum. 
BREN: Have I mentioned that I’m pregnant? 

[Visual interlude:] 

GAR: Really? You're going to have a baby? 
BREN: That is what pregnant means. And now I’ve inexplicably developed a terror that you’ll leave my newborn babe on the hillside & destroy it like the heathen Viking murderer you are! 
GAR: I wouldn’t kill my baby. 
BREN: You would! And just to prove how much I want you to go away, I’ll stomp my feet & put my arms akimbo & ride around hunting pelted animals while I’m eight months huge with sprog! 
LINNET: Uh, that’s probably not a good idea. 
BREN: Why not? 
LINNET: Because you’re pregnant. 
BREN: I don’t care. I’m strong & independent & stubborn & I refuse to do womanly things. I will never be tamed! 
LINNET: But... 
BREN: There, see? I’m fine. I’ve attained new levels of maturity thanks to this baby in my belly. Look what I can do! ...Oops, I just fell off my horse. 
LINNET: Oh noes, you’re having your baby prematurely. 
BREN: Dammit, how did that happen? Don’t let Garrick kill it while I’m unconscious. 
CEDRIC: Ah-ha! I have returned! 
GARRICK: No, see, I brought him as a peace offering. Show me where you tried to kill him & I’ll believe you didn’t run away on purpose. 
CEDRIC: I haz scarz like woah. You can’t prove anything. 
BREN: He’s right. 
GAR: Then you’re still a lying ho. 
CEDRIC: Ha! I’ve shoved you down & knocked your head on a table. Now I’ll take Brenna again & try to cross the fjord. 
BREN: You leave my baby alone! 
CEDRIC: I don’t want your baby, biatch! That woman wants your baby. 
BREN: Omg, no! Not that really suspicious housekeeper I knew earlier in the story! 
GAR: You mean the one that mysteriously disappeared midway through the first half of the book? The one that has a bastard son by my father & wants him to overthrow my brother as heir to the clan?! 
CEDRIC: Yup, that’d be her. 
BREN: Get our baby, Garrick! 
GAR: Get out of the fjord, Brenna! 

[Visual interlude:] 

CEDRIC: Get in this damn boat, slave! 
BREN: Get off my leg, Cedric! 
GAR: Leave off my woman, asshole! 
CEDRIC: Stop kicking my face, bitch! 
BREN: Quit trying to kidnap me, idiot! 
GAR: Stop distracting me from our baby, woman! 
CEDRIC: Where’s the boat going without us, dammit! 
BREN: I will never be tamed, boys! 
GAR: And there goes the baby! 
CEDRIC: And there goes the boat! 
BREN: Into the woods! 
GAR: After them! 
BREN: Quick! 
CEDRIC: I’m drowning now! ..Oops, too late. 
BREN: Nevermind that poor drowning man. We need our baby back. We’ve got two pages left, dammit, & I demand to dominate you into a happy ending. 
GAR: I have him! The really mysterious housekeeper isn’t an evil woman – she’s just insane. 
BRENNA: That’s a relief. Let’s go snuggle now, Greedo. I love you even if you’re a Viking bastard. 
GARRICK: I love you too, Jar-Jar. Kissy-kissy, snuggle-woo. 

Epilogue: