If you are in the mood for a low stakes, low conflict book, the equivalent of a warm hug followed by maybe a tickle or an affectionate pinch on the bum, then this is the book for you. Also, if you are hungry! Don’t read this. Or, do. And then cook the recipes Ms. Milan has so thoughtfully provided on her website. You know what, I take back the thing about the pinch, because that doesn’t seem enjoyable. Maybe a pat instead? Anyway I was trying to figure out some sort of metaphorical equivalent of Jeremy’s (the titular Duke) sense of humor and I don’t know if it worked out too well.
Jeremy Yu (not his real name) has been visiting the village of Wedgeford for years now, ever since he was a child and happened upon it during its annual, famous games: the Wedgeford Trials. Jeremy is also the half-Chinese, half-English Duke who happens to own most of Wedgeford, but he’s never told any of his friends there who he is, not even the girl he’s in love with and plans to marry. Awkward. Chloe Fong is that girl, and three years before the events of this book, she in frustration turned him down and asked him to be serious (Jeremy is a chronic-jokester, as previously mentioned). He hasn’t come back yet because he hasn’t figured out how to do that for her. Until now.
I don’t want to say more because a great pleasure of this book is watching it tease out its own nuances. I loved all the characters the more we heard about them, and I loved this improbable village with its weird game (I want more about the game next time! Chloe, et al, were understandably more concerned with running their bun and sauce booth in this one). This book is also the funniest Ms. Milan has let herself be in some time. You could feel how much she was having a good time with it.
I actually managed for the first time in the six and a half years my IRL book club has been going to get a full-on romance novel on the slate, so I’m interested to see what my friends think of this. For most of them, it’s their first “romance novel,” though most of them have read a few contemporary romances/women’s fiction.
Anyway, loved it. My only complaint that’s currently keeping me from giving this five stars (which might change once I let the book settle in my mind more) is that we are just dropped in without any sort of prelude or prologue and it was a bit discombobulating. But the more it went on and I got situated, the more I just allowed my pants to be charmed right off.
[4.5 stars]
The Duke Who Didn’t was such a relief to read. It felt like somebody enjoying something they love after years of it being a chore.
Yeah, the only other time I saw her really have fun in print for like the last six years is when she wrote the novella for the Hamilton anthology.
Some people might like a pinch…. 😉 Great review!
Thanks!
I enjoy your reviews and think I’ve come to the conclusion that we are divergent in the middle and agree on the edges (e.g. this, Bloodline by Claudia Grey, The Rabbit One by Jasper Fforde to think of three recent examples).
I found this to be a bit more discombobulating throughout, such that I never resonated with the main leads (but I finished it all in one go, so there’s that to recommend it). I think something about Milan’s writing style doesn’t mesh with me, but it’s a me thing because her writing is super masterful (while I was confused as to emotional plot I was never once confused what was going on situationally, for example, like what was where and what the settings looked like).
Cannonball Read is a great teacher of the lesson that art is subjective. As you get to know other Cannonballer’s through their reviews, you start seeing the ways in which you can like the same books for different reasons, and dislike books for the same reason someone else likes them. The same book illicit so many different reactions. As long as you are reading in good faith, there isn’t a wrong response.
This is so true. I’ve tried to move to a “this didn’t work for me because” model when reviewing because it isn’t necessarily that something was done poorly (although maybe it was) but more often how I interacted with it.
I have a couple book un-twins running around CBR, people who I trust but know that if they loved something for a particular reason than I am most likely not going to. It is just as helpful in curating my to read piles as if we agreed all the time. And that doesn’t mean I don’t love reading their reviews – I absolutely do – but I’ve learned where our tastes diverge.
I’ve been reviewing for twelve years now, and I’m always so happy to see people reviewing with the underlying attitude “this didn’t work for me because”. So many times I see reviews that feel actually disrespectful of people’s intelligence, like the underlying feeling is I didn’t like this if you did you must be unbearably stupid and wrong, and I react very strongly to those now. I think I used to be more guilty of writing reviews like that and I’m hope I’m getting better at not doing it.
Though sometimes something is just egregiously bad and it needs to be pointed out. That’s pretty rare for me, though! Picking out books for myself at this point is a well-honed machine of a process. CBR and Goodreads and reading the same people’s reviews for years on end is definitely a help with that.
Wow, Ashley, proofread next time.
I’ve tried as well to be thoughtful of “it didn’t work for me” after the entire RITA debacle and learning more about how so-called “urban” romances get dinged by white reviewers as being “not for them.” I don’t want “not for me” to let me get away with “not like what I always read,” because over time that latter category has gotten smaller as my universe has widened!
Also important! I’m trying to be more mindful of things that I am not the primary audience for and acknowledging that in my reviews.
Similarly I read an article awhile ago that talked about how women authors are often referred to by their first name in reviews, while men are almost exclusively referred to by their last name. I now make a point of referring to authors by last name only every subsequent time I refer to them. How we use language matters, and if the only thing I do is change how I think then I’ve done something important. (My one exception to my personal last name rule is Rainbow Rowell. Calling her Rowell and leaving out the Rainbow just feels cold, and her writing is anything but.)
That’s so interesting, I don’t think I’ve read about that but it also doesn’t surprise me in the slightest. I agree that some authors are just full name authors! I think some also demand to have a title prefix.
Sometimes you just don’t gel with an author and it’s NBD, although sad if you wanted to like them.
Those recipes – stuffed (nyong) tofu, millet jook! I have to check out this book!
You will be very hungry during.