on sailing and medieval romance

Recently, I learned to sail. I should say here that though I grew up on a coast, on boats, and on beaches that sailing, true sailing on a keelboat, was not something I ever saw myself doing. It felt like an activity solely available to the very rich and very white. And largely, it is. The unequal access to sailing is, as my husband told me when I expressed my complete bafflement at learning, “a real problem.” There are many organizations working against this (see here and here and here for the most local to me) but suffice to say that I found myself married to someone who loves to sail and we had the time, the access, and the financial means to learn.

I learned “officially” in that the American Sailing Association has given me the credentials (well earned!) to charter a keelboat or monohull if I so desire. All of this is really immaterial to a newsletter about romance novels (okay Nora Roberts does have a VERY famous boat builder series) but bear with me. What I found that I loved about sailing is the language. I have always hoarded words. It comes part and parcel with being a reader, a big nerd, a humanities major. Sailing is chock full of exciting new words. Maps are charts. The big wheel is the helm. Turnbuckle, jib and jibe, reef, tack and tacking, true wind, windward, aft, starboard, leeward, beam reach! Luff and luffing. Halyard. Not only must one understand the meaning of each word but its function too. Sailing is an incredibly active endeavor. Each word is a noun and a verb. A tack acts as a direction the boat can turn and also the act of turning the boat. An act of finding your wind.

My favorite word I learned is “telltales.” Telltales are tiny bits of fabric or ribbon which demonstrate how the wind flows around a sail. On the boat I learned to sail on, the telltales were tiny pieces of plastic cut from a trash bag. One of the delights of sailing school was how I could shock my instructor by remarking they looked a bit like sperm. Alas, a good sail means the telltales are flying. Ribbon or plastic streaming behind the piece of tape. Valiantly flapping like a flag in a strong wind. You can sail by the telltales, disregard your point of sail or your stop on the horizon and aim only to keep your telltales flying. I loved that.

Telltales. Obviously it sounds a lot like tell tales. Something we associate with sailors. Something maybe we associate with women too. Tales denotes that maybe it is gossip, maybe it is more fiction than reality. A distant land I saw. A creature of the sea. A mirage on the horizon. But gossip is really just oral history. A way of passing knowledge and stories for people with less access to the written word. Sailing by the telltales felt like a way to honor this privileged activity with an intuition I did not know I had. It felt like connecting to something older and wiser than me. It felt the way I feel when my son loves something I also love. It felt the way I feel when I get to share a knowing glance with someone I love. It had a rush of doing something right the first time (though I rarely did that while sailing). The way I feel when a book I am reading absolutely nails it. It felt like a truth I have always known about both myself and the world around me.

With this newsletter, I hope to spend slightly less time on my own philosophical musings and more time telling you about what I am reading. Naturally my current state of mind is affected by Elizabeth Kingston. Have you heard of Elizabeth Kingston?! If you know who Laura Kinsale is, then you should know it is her protegee. Medieval romance is not something I have read a lot of and Kingston felt like an on ramp to eventually trying Kinsale. Kinsale’s reputation in romance is for darkness and complete emotional devastation I have been dragging my feet. Kingston ROCKED me. I am often bored and exhausted by the takes about romance novels that revolve around “annoying heroines” or ones who get criticized for being too mean, too evasive, for lying, and finding themselves in messes of their own making. If I desired to read only good characters doing good things I would stick to aspirational romance but I have no spare time for sermons. Kingston allows for utter competence existing within crippling self doubt. A heroine completely confident in her warrior status but embarrassed by how little time she prepared to be a wife. A lady so cold to anything but schemes for war and brash manipulation…that does not fade in the face of love. A heroine nearly mute from her trauma and speaking only when absolutely necessary. How rare to find a writer who can make silence set a scene. Liars, schemers, bloodthirsty, all of them, and not tempered by their relationships but welcomed. I was inspired to start these after reading this absolutely great tribute to both Kinsale and Kingston.

It brings to mind sailing again for me. I am competent in most of my life, the curse of being an oldest daughter and a Capricorn. I am happy to say no to things I do not want to do or try. Sailing tested me and those firm boundaries. It required me to be ON for long stretches of time, to continually move and think and compute information at a level I can only remember utilizing in postpartum (lol sob) or the part of my early twenties when I could intern and work part time and take a whole course load. Learning a new skill makes me angry, makes me both prone to snarky outbursts and to sulky silence. I am the epitome of “fix your face” and “watch your tone.” I do not learn gracefully, particularly with an audience and an expectation. And I did it. Alone on a boat but for our instructor and my husband. I let the full force of my displeasure at struggling and my pride at eventual success come to the fore. We all survived it. I got to bask in the moment that we did it together. I got to bask in the “Good job. I knew you could do it.” of it all.

Reading Kingston in tandem was a wonder. Because almost all of Kingston’s characters begin as enemies to lovers. Sure, there are other tropes: marriage of convenience, only one bed, political rivals, marriage in crisis, etc etc. But the subversion she utilizes is that there is no redemption arc, there is no grovel, no apologies. By the end of each book, plots laid bare, and really no regrets. One of the characters is typically forced to say “So that was pretty despicable but its over now. Let’s go home?” Lots of people believe romance novels are so people can see stories of being loved despite their flaws. But I find comfort and desire for stories when it is because. The specific joy of being seen and told to keep coming home.

My final hurrah to convince you to read the Kingstons. Here is a short summary (some spoiler-ish because it is not the plot twists BUT whether we can actually reach a happy ending that the conflict rests in these books):

1. The King’s Man - You (I am using single first person POV here to convince but fear not, these are dual POV/third if you are picky about tense) YOU! Are basically a commander in chief and a healer whose men accidentally beat up a hot guy. After healing him, you realize he is actually the English king’s favorite assassin…yikes since you are Welsh! What ensues is a physical fight (she beats his ass) and a marriage of convenience sort of interrupted by your mom’s treason plot. 

2. Fair, Bright, and Terrible - You are in your forties and have lived several lifetimes including two grown children (daughter not really talking to you because of the aforementioned treason plot), barely escaped being punished by the king, outlived a potentially mentally ill but definitely violent religious zealot husband AND NOW your son wants you to marry some guy to further his career. Uh oh that guy is your first love you had an affair with in your twenties. This meditation on how we grow as we age and how trauma may make us malevolent but still worthy of love is a TREAT!

3. Desire Lines - You are mostly mute…by choice. And also a servant girl turned Jason Bourne due to your badass friends (see above heroines). You find a hot guy in trouble and rescue him (secretly he is a Welsh prince!). This is the slowest of the four but mainly focused on the idea of consent. Intimate consent of course for two people who have barely been allowed it. Consent in terms of what boundaries you draw. Consent to live your life as you please. Consent through every plot line. I cried not a small amount.

4. One Burning Heart - You have been married for six years and your husband thinks you are an annoying, meek, religious zealot. PLOT TWIST: you have been systematically working on taking down the Catholic Church and ending the crusades and also maybe your husband’s power. Oops. Unfortunately, he needs an heir now and he is good in bed so… I am sure you can imagine how this works out! There is a heresy trial! There are spicy bits and prayer together in the room. This one is BURNING hot. 

talk soon,

Britt

p.s. thank you to nicole capó martínez for making me this logo image so quickly and so perfectly <3