Supernatural Heroines: Mercy Thompson Series [chick lit]

We haven’t mentioned “low lit” in a while, despite that fact that at least one of us wallows in it as much as in Shakespeare of Proust. Well, a hell of a lot more than in Proust, for sure.

I’m a sucker for what was once called vampire chick lit. Now, the Amazon search words for this type of thing have broadened a bit along the lines of “strong supernatural heroine”, “vampire romance”, and “paranormal mystery.” The nominal pillars of this emerging genre include authors Charlaine Harris (Southern Vampire and Harper Connelly series) and Laurell K. Hamilton (Anita Blake and Merry Gentry series), whose novels have spawned slightly paler imitations, such as Kim Harrison’s (Rachel Morgan series), which are enjoyable enough in their own right. Of course, as you move down the pyramid there’s here’s a whole lotta bottom to this genre — the novels Minion by L.A. Banks and Greywalker by Kat Richardson come to mind. It’s easy to throw stones at the whole genre because the top is hard to find among the whole racks of low-end imitations, but when a competent author gives these supernatural heroines a bit of a unique personality and a decent crime to solve, there’s no better way to pass a lazy Sunday (like this one).

If you aren’t familiar with the mold, it goes a bit like this:

Act I

The fiercely independent female lead of modest financial means tries to mind her own business, despite a seeming inability to do more than break even. Her motivation at the outset is typically to stay emotionally and economically afloat (she’s got a job that is critical to her continued survival).

Act II

However, someone dies (unexpectedly, violently, and/or without explanation palatable to the heroine), and that someone is important to the heroine or someone she identifies with, such as someone without any advocate at all who evokes the heroine’s sympathy for that reason. She’s curious and her sense of justice is unsettled by the manner in which the authories address the death.

Act III

So, she decides to investigate. A series of dangerous situations results as she gets draw deepend Subsequent efforts to deter her as she gets deeper and deeper into the Who-Dunnit of the caper are greeted as an afront to her independence and sense of right and wrong. Most of the book is “Act III”, the series of complications and twists that you expect from a mystery, red herrings, following leads, and all that good stuff. Act IV will involve a crisis and confrontation with the killer– in this case, expect some supernatural fireworks from all sides — and Act V will involve the patching up.

Of course, this heroine isn’t like other girls. Her investigation will put her at odds with all sort of supernatural folk, and so her own supernatural abilities are necessary to keep her in the game. She can read minds, talk to the dead, or change into a coyote. Notice, however, that her ability is not overly aggressive or particularly powerful, and it tends to function primarily as a defense rather than an offense. Pound for pound, her supernatural toolbox isn’t as powerful as what is thrown at her, so the balance is made up by a reliance on wit, determination, and a set of supernatural and mortal friendlies who help out along the way. In the end, it’s mostly the heroine’s essential grit and stubbornness that keeps her alive (usually she’s badly roughed up by the end).

Of course — and here’s why I imagine I get raised eyebrows when I read these in the airport — a variety of love interests are essential to the mix, and these guys usually have supernatural abilities of their own (vampires, fae, werewolves, shape-shifters, telepaths, and the like). There’s always more than one interested party, and his desire to possess the heroine will also run afoul of her independent streak.

To the book at hand today that got me onto this topic was Iron Kissed, the third of Patricia Briggs’ Mercy Thompson novels, after Moon Called and Blood Bound. Each book in this series has all the elements that the genre should, with plot-lines running roughly as suggested above. It’s additional success is that it combines supernatural critters of different supernatural types (werewolves, vampires, and other fairy creatures and magic users) into a functioning fictional world that’s taut with possibility. Enough explanation of the “rules” of the magical world is provided that it’s a plausible landscape for the characters without going too far and eliminating the enjoyable uncertainty of not knowing exactly what kind of power any particular character can wield vis-a-vis any other character. Briggs plays expertly on that uncertainty, and it’s one of the real successes of this series.