Mixed Feelings on Checkmate

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I finished my re-read of the Lymond Chronicles last night. (I am really looking forward to going to bed early tonight and not reading anything–my eyes need a break!)

I’m trying to resolve my feelings about Checkmate and the end of the series, because they’re very, very mixed.

Checkmate remains the least compelling of the novels for me, but I'm not sure if it's because the quality lags or just because its themes ring less personally true to me. My biggest problem is that I'm not swept up by the love story, which so much of the emotional satisfaction of the conclusion hinges on.

I like the love story intellectually. It's limited by the genre in a couple of ways--it's all about the guy, and about the woman growing to match him, and to understand him completely, and to support him and provide him with redemption and a reason to live. But you know when you sign on that "The Lymond Chronicles" are going to revolve around a guy, and to be fair, it's not gendered--just about everyone, female or male, who falls into Lymond's path falls in love with him. So, okay. And with that as a given, Philippa couldn't be a better match. We watch her grow from a principled, strong-willed child to a witty, brilliant, compassionate adult woman, with the strong inner core only fortified by time and experience. Their connection is focused on wit, humor, art, music, ideals, politics--a meeting of minds and souls. At the end, when Lymond's thinking of seeing Philippa again, he focuses on how she challenges him and how much he much he respects her judgment. It's become an equal and respectful relationship between two strong, compelling characters.

So... I should be swept up, right? I've been in the POV of this girl, watching her grow up and fall in love with our dashing hero, and now I'm vicariously "getting" him via her--I should be cheering when they finally kiss! But I'm just... not. I think, honestly, all the ridiculous back-and-forth melodrama of the preceding 500 pages wore me out. They've done everything in their power to not be together--running away to other countries, attempting suicide, getting engaged to other people... I think I'm fed up with them. Lymond never does anything active to be with Philippa. He's always running away, and she ends up basically doing the same. Now, admittedly, they each run away because they believe their absence would be better for the other, but that just makes me want to smack them. You're in love and perfect for each other! Stop being stupid!

There are all these moments earlier on where I'm ready to be happy for them, but they can't bring themselves to be happy. Lymond falls for Philippa... and tries to run away to Russia. Philippa falls for Lymond... and decides they should each marry other people. Lymond realizes Philippa loves him... and tries to kill himself. Lymond tells Philippa he loves her... and concludes that they should never see each other again. Philippa allows herself to be raped to protect Lymond, and they run away together briefly, only to separate because she's too traumatized for sex.

And, okay, that's the part that really drives me nuts. They're together, they love each other, she's made an incredible sacrifice for him... and he can't stand to be around her without having sex with her. Dude. Get over it. Not to mention it's only been a few months... give her a chance to recover! (I'll note that Lymond himself avoided sex for quite a while after the trauma over Oonagh and Khaireddin and the stuff with the Aga Morat.) I just... seriously... that he decides to go off and kill himself, and she lets him, because it's OMG SO HORRIBLE that they can't fuck! GAH. I know this thing is written in a highly metaphorical style, and I'm trying to see it as that... that their love is incomplete, their full connection unrealized, and her unresolved trauma hurts him, which in turn hurts her, into this endless amplifying mirror effect of misery because of the power each one's emotions has over the other, BUT. It still comes down to "He's dying because he can't have sex with her!" and I think it's inane.

(As an aside, while I'd normally find "she let herself get raped for him!" as a narrative device to be incredibly creepy, I think it mostly works here because he's done the same thing himself--with the Aga Morat to protect Jerrot--not to mention all the times he's used sex as currency--with "half the French court" to get information, with Guzel to repay her and to protect Venceslas, and so on. It's another thing Lymond and Philippa have in common, their willingness to sacrifice themselves to protect those they love, and having it be in this particular form for Philippa works because Philippa has grown similar to Lymond in every way except suffering. This enables them to understand each other on an even deeper level and, frankly, Philippa was a bit too happy and perfect... realistic human beings have trauma, and it also provides a chance for Lymond to support her, instead of her just always following him around helping him.)

Anyway, and then... again, on a metaphorical level it's lovely, but on a literal level it almost comes down to a farce. The thing that cures Philippa of her frigidity is seeing Marthe and Austin die horribly right in front of her. I know seeing my friends die totally makes me horny! :P And then she and Lymond--who, mind you, is recovering from a ten day coma, and has just been badly beaten and nearly frozen to death--skip Marthe's funeral so that they can spend a day and a half fucking while Lymond's poor mother waits in a nearby room. I... just... and speaking of farce, there are all these scenes earlier where Lymond is blundering around blind trying to kill himself, and I know I'm supposed to feel awful, but it gets so over-the-top ridiculous that it's hard for me to care. And then there's all this goofy over-the-top psychic stuff--Lymond and Philippa can communicate telepathically! Marthe can channel the Dame de Doubtance! Excuse me while I roll my eyes. Many of the emotional, psychological, and political themes of the series are so nuanced and complex that it frustrates me when Dunnett descends to supernatural nonsense--it just doesn't fit.

Okay, I'm being harsh. When I said mixed feelings, I really do mean mixed--parts of this book are wonderful. But the thing about the themes just not connecting with me is true. The romance is part of an overall theme about man not being an island, about the need for family and home--both that Lymond needs them to be happy and that he has social obligations to them. Lymond's been wandering around the world trying to create himself, but ultimately he belongs back at home, tied to the nation he grew up with. There's a prostitution motif throughout the series, which ultimately comes to fruition in the idea that all Lymond's mercenary work for other nations is just him basely selling himself, and he'll never be happy until he comes home because his heart belongs in Scotland. I guess what bothers me about this is... I'm not interested in nationalism. I'm sure if you're a Scottish patriot it's very compelling, and it works for Lymond, it just doesn't connect with me. And I do respect how it's done, that Lymond's learned all these lessons throughout the series and is now able to apply them to helping Scotland, encouraging religious tolerance and protecting their culture and so on.

Lymond's passivity also bugs me. He only ends up with Philippa because of other people pushing him. He only ends up back in Scotland because his mother yells at him. I'd like some of this happy ending to be something he himself actively fights for, instead of something he fights tooth and nail while his friends and family and beyond-the-grave-psychic-manipulator shove it down his throat.

Speaking of which... the fact that the whole thing was engineered by the Dame de Doubtance both bends credulity way past the breaking point and is kind of annoying. I mean, I guess it adds eerie atmosphere and a looming sense of fate, but... the whole predestination idea leaves me cold. I don't like fate.

I do really like the ending, though. It ends on a beginning, a promise of the future. The past six books have been prelude, the lessons Francis and Philippa have had to learn to become leaders and guides during a turbulent period of history. And Francis's emotional problems have finally been resolved, everything that's been eating him away since childhood dealt with and accepted. (And thank god the past six books have just been the lessons, because otherwise you'd have to say that Francis Crawford failed at most of what he set out to achieve--St. Mary's ended in the realization that it was too dangerous to exist, Voevoda of Russian ended in his banishment, Marshall of France ended in another banishment, and oh yeah that thing about rescuing his kid didn't turn out so well...)

I like the nurture over nature idea. That Richard may not be "legitimate" but he's been groomed to be Lord Culter and is doing a fine job of it. And most especially, Kuzum. The first time I read the series I had this niggling feeling of wrongness about him: "But that's Gabriel's child! He's going to grow up and Francis is going to have to look into the face of his enemy again! He's bound to do horrible sadistic things!" But... he's not going to turn out bad. He's a sweet child, raised by Philippa and Kate and Sybilla--he's going to be fine. His birth doesn't matter. And that's kind of the ultimate triumph over Gabriel, to raise Gabriel's child as Lymond's, and to teach the kid love and goodness.

And I like that Khaireddin isn't forgotten. His ghost looms over the final books, is at the deepest core of Lymond's "hunchback in the gutter" syndrome. It's appropriate that he's the most important thought when Lymond's in the coma, trapped with the memories of those he's lost. (I'm very glad that Christian also isn't forgotten, btw.) All the threads of the series get resolved very neatly. I was also incredibly pleased that Lymond and Richard made up, yet again (let's see how long it lasts this time... My favorite thing in the first book was the Lymond/Richard relationship--sibling rivalry, and jealousy, and an inability to understand each other, but a with a deep, honest love underneath.) And we even get one last showdown with the wicked witch, Margaret Lennox.

That is one thing I really like about this series--the power of the female characters. Lymond may be at the center of the narrative, but all of his most important relationships are with women. His whole life in engineered by the Dame de Doubtance. His most important personal relationship, the person who shaped him and who he depends on emotionally, is his mother, and the biggest part of his growing-up process is learning to transfer that relationship to his wife. His wife, btw, who's not just an equal and partner but who pretty much rules him, as previously only his mother was able to do. (I still can't get over his mom curing him of blindness, rousing him from a coma, and getting him to return to Scotland by lighting a fire and yelling at him.) His deepest friendships are with women--Kate and Christian are the two people who understand him best. Even his worst enemy is a woman, Margaret Lennox. He has relationships with men, but they're usually his underlings and they very rarely understand him. And Lymond himself has many feminine qualities--his macho "father" hated him for his interest in reading and music--and an immense respect and understanding for women. Actually, that's one of my favorite aspects of Lymond--that he genuinely likes women and prefers their company. He becomes a warrior and mercenary because he has to, to make his name and protect his country, but I love that when he tells Jerott what he really wants out of life (in The Disorderly Knights) it's music and conversation and women "to talk to, not to rape." (One of my favorite scenes, a rare moment when Lymond gets fed up with everyone constantly misinterpreting his motivations and bursts out with a bit of honest truth, leaving Jerrot utterly boggled.)

There are more aspects of Checkmate that I like--the joy of the chase scene where Philippa realizes she loves Lymond, the first scene exploring the Dame's eerie rooms, Lymond disguised as Hilary, the twisted parallels between Lymond's quest to stop Gabriel and Austin Grey's quest to stop Lymond, the fact that Elizabeth's glove turns out to be the key to save Lymond. But it's my least favorite book of the series, coming down mainly, in the end, to the hero's passivity, his endless cycles of emo misery and migraines and suicide attempts, and the fact that, to the very end when he's preparing to turn away from Flaw Valleys, he never fights for his happiness but has it thrust upon him by everyone else. Lymond in Game of Kings made me fall in love by fighting tooth and nail to clear his name and get back to his family. Lymond in Checkmate makes me want to slap him and tell him to stop whining.

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