Publisher: Shattered Scepter Press
Genre: Historic Horror, Vampire
Audience: Adult/Mature
Diversity: Lesbian, Malay, Chinese
Content Warnings: Cannibalism, Child Abuse, Child Endangerment, Death, Drug Use/Abuse, Forced Captivity, Gaslighting, Gore, Kidnapping, Medical Torture/Abuse, Oppression, Pedophilia, Physical Abuse, Racism, Rape/Sexual Assault, Self-Harm, Sexism, Slut-Shaming, Suicide, Torture, Verbal/Emotional Abuse, Victim Blaming, Violence (Highlight to view)
Blurb:
| Love demands sacrifice. Her blood. Her body. Even her life. Singapore, 1927. Verity Edevane needs blood. And not just anyone's blood. She craves the sweet, salty rush from a young woman's veins, the heady swirl of desire mixed with fealty—such a rarity in this foreign colony. It’s a lot to ask. But doesn't she deserve the best? Gean Choo needs money. Mrs. Edevane makes her an offer Gean Choo can't refuse. But who is her strange, alluring new mistress? What is she? And what will Gean Choo sacrifice to earn her love? Po Lam needs absolution. After decades of faithfully serving Mrs. Edevane, Po Lam can no longer excuse a life of bondage and murder. She needs a fresh start. A clean conscience. More than anything, she needs to save Gean Choo from a love that will destroy them all. |
The Wicked and the Willing is a dark, supernatural
romance set in Singapore in the late 1920s while it was still the Straits
Settlements and under British control. The story revolves around three women: Gean
Choo, Verity, and Po Lam. Gean Choo, is a young Chinese woman with no family who
takes a job working for a wealthy White woman. She quickly falls in love with
her employer, a beautiful, but dangerous vampire named Verity Edevane. Po Lam
is Verity’s head servant, a strong and formal woman who also develops a soft
spot for Gean Choo. Although, while Po Lam uses she/her pronouns, she dresses
as a man and is gender non-conforming. It’s unclear if she’s very butch or if
her gender is fluid. But without enough evidence to the contrary, I’m going to
assume she identifies as a butch woman for the purpose of this review. Each
chapter is told from a different woman’s point of view and follows the
turbulent romance between Gean Choo and Verity. Po Lam struggles with whether
to interfere and warn Gean Choo that she’s playing with fire, or to remain an
obedient servant and stay out of it. The story touches on the power dynamics of
race, age, wealth, and gender. We see this in the relationships between Verity
and her servants, Verity and the Vampire leader Kalon, and the women with society.
Verity may give Gean Choo permission to use her given name,
but theirs is still an imbalanced relationship. As her wealthy mistress and as
a White woman, Verity holds all the power over her servants, making it
difficult(if not impossible) for Gean Choo to turn down any of her requests,
even when she’s uncomfortable. As an impoverished, unmarried orphan, options
are for employment are limited and Gean Choo is desperate to protect her cushy
position in the vampire’s household. So, while on the surface it may appear as
though the two women are both willingly engaging in sadomasochism (and in the
hands of a less talented writer this would certainly be the case), it’s clear
that there is an issue of consent. Does Gean Choo let her mistress push her
past her comfort limits because that’s what she wants as a submissive, or
because she’s afraid of losing her job? Tan skillfully presents their bond as
unhealthy, but alluring enough for a girl with rose-tinted glasses to miss the
red flags without romanticizing it. Verity is a monster, but she hides it
behind charm and extravagant displays of affection, a common trait of abusers
during the “calm” or “honeymoon” stage of the abuse cycle. Contrast
this with more problematic romance books like Twilight, where
an abusive relationship is passed off as romantic.
Gean Choo’s race also plays a role in their power imbalance.
Verity clearly sees her as an “exotic”
sexual fantasy she needs to rescue, instead of a real person. She treats
her like a “China doll,” dressing her up and styling her hair, and can’t even
be bothered to pronounce her name correctly.Iinstead, she calls her “Pearl”
(the second charter in Gean Choo’s name is 珠 which is Hokkien for Pearl). There are
similarities to the relationship in Miss Saigon, Madama Butterfly (on
which Miss Saigon is based), The World of Suzie Wong, and other
orientalist works of fiction, where a young, innocent (but also
hypersexualized) Asian woman is taken advantage of by a White foreigner. Tan
reclaims the trope by making Gean Choo a complex character who’s stronger than
she thinks and uses this as another aspect of their relationship’s dysfunction.
She also shows how harmful it is by having Verity literally prey on Asian women
(mostly sex workers) who she views as disposable, a view shared by the British
who prey on the countries they colonize. Despite all Verity’s power as a
vampire and a rich White woman, she is still a second-class citizen in the eyes
of society because of her gender and is forced to submit to the will of the
sadistic vampire leader, Kalon.
Overall, I greatly enjoyed Tan’s violent, sexy, historical “romance.”
There was plenty of gratuitous sex and violence, non-White lesbians, and
commentary about colonization and abusive relationships. What I found
particularly unique was Tan giving the reader two different options for the
ending, one happy and one tragic depending on which romance the reader chooses for
Gean Choo to embrace. Overall, the book is beautifully written. Tan has a very
impressive and extensive vocabulary which she used to weave the narrative,
which she manages to do without ever being sesquipedalian or descending into purple prose. I’d recommend this book to anyone who likes
period horror or vampire romances where the vampire’s monstrosity is never
downplayed.
