"Aren't you excited? Aren't you happy?"
No apologies whatsoever for the Undertale images...
Eden's freaking out over the sunshine, already wanting "muted grays in which to hide and become invisible," which I suppose is understandable. If you've been raised in an enclosed, dark environment, wide open spaces and sunlight are going to be strange and frightening. But to call the daylight a "bright, suffocating prison" like she does seems kind of pushing it.
Their "welcoming committee" turns out to be a group of Native Americans. Here, have the lovely description:
She didn't think things could get any worse, when the welcoming committee came into view. A half-dozen, short, muscular Indians wearing a rag-tag assortment of clothes stood by a line of ancient, all-terrain vehicles. Machetes hung from several of the men's belts, glinting in the sunlight. Some had long, wooden poles slung over their shoulders. Despite fanciful feathers tucked into simple bowl-cut hairstyles, the warriors appeared fierce. -- p. 99
Wow... the only way this could get any more stereotypical is if these guys were wearing facepaint buckskins and/or loincloths. Foyt, is there no minority you won't make a joke of in this book? Also, no fancy gemstone name for Native Americans? Then again, I'd hate to think of what kind of mineral name she'd come up for them. Rust? Sandstone? Garnet? Probably best not to think too hard on that...
Also, is it me or does Foyt use too many commas? I dunno if it's a British thing or just punctuation confetti...
"The Huaorani," Edenn's father said, excitedly.
"Who?" Eden said.
"The world's last independent indigenous tribe. No one knows how or where they've survived." -- p. 99
According to Wikipedia, the Huaorani are an actual indigenous people living in Ecuador, and as of 2012 there were about 2,500 left. I'm curious as to whether there's any special reason this tribe in particular managed to survive, or if Foyt just randomly picked a tribe and went "eh, this one'll do." Twenty bucks says we won't get an explanation of any kind as to how they survived... and no, I don't buy the "no one knows" excuse, that's one of the cheapest writing shortcuts you can use.
Oh, and the poles are apparently blowguns, and we get a sudden infodump on how these blowguns work. And of course these people are master hunters that hunt humans for sport. From what I can see, Foyt at least did some cursory research on the Huaorani -- their name means "human" and they consider anyone outside their tribe "cowode," or non-human -- but I've found nothing that indicates they hunted humans for sport. Either Foyt threw that in to make these people more savage, or she just assumed that all indigenous people engaged in human-hunting practices of some kind. Stop using exploitation films like Cannibal Holocaust as your point of reference, Foyt...
I ain't showing screencaps or posters of that movie -- you
get kittens instead. If you're THAT curious, Google
and IMDB are thataway... -->
Eden suggests that maybe the Huaorani will kill Bramford. Before her father can react more than an angry "what?" Daisy hands them each a backpack for the trip. Said backpacks contain "toiletries, a company T-shirt, and a small bottle of water." Um... what about a first-aid kid, or any food, or any other supplies for surviving in the wilderness? How's a toothbrush or a company T-shirt supposed to help you forage for food or build a shelter?
Eden sarcastically thanks Daisy, and Daisy glares and says "you never know, it might come in handy." Eden takes this as a hint that Daisy's on her side and has hidden something in her pack that might help her. Or maybe Daisy's just telling you to be grateful that you have SOMETHING that might help you survive, even if it's just that one lousy bottle of water, girl...
Then we get more awkward descriptions of Bramford and Eden's feelings for him:
A quivering feather floated inside of her, as Bramford stretched to a standing position. (??????) Her eyes betrayed her, traveling the length of his body. She felt embarrassed and, as he shot her a quizzical glance, realized that her flushed, red skin showed zebra-like through her worn, dark coating. -- p. 101
Foyt, just... stop writing scenes of the protagonist getting hot and bothered. Clearly it's not your forte. Then again, you've shown that writing in general isn't your forte... maybe take up a hobby like gardening or crocheting or something...
Both Bramford and Eden's father tell her it's time to go, and she refuses to budge because of the daylight. So of course, Bramford has to pick her up and carry her. I'm starting to think she's being a snot just so she has an excuse to get carried everywhere by a hot animal... I mean Bramford.
Oh, and she tries to get him to put her down by hitting him and pulling his hair. How is she able to reach his hair when he's carrying her against his chest?
Eden's father suggests sending her back, even as Eden's thinking of how pathetic her father looks and ignoring how disappointed he seems in her. How did a half-decent guy like this end up having such a horrible brat for a daughter? Bramford retorts that they can't send her back because then she'll lead the authorities out to find them. Reasonable enough, especially since Eden proposed turning Bramford in to save their necks...
Eden shrieked as hot-white light hit her head. (Um, usually it's "white-hot," I'm not sure why you switched it around there...) Broiling sunrays knifed into her skin, and she gasped for air. Even without her sensors she knew she was in deep trouble.
Below, she saw the Huaorani raise their nut-brown faces. Time seemed to hang in the air as each side, the human tribesmen and the cowode visitors, hesitated. For Earth's sake, why didn't they attack the beast?
Eden took matters into her own hands and pointed at Bramford. "Cowode!" -- p. 102
Way to go, Eden... how is this supposed to be our heroine? How is THIS supposed to suggest that these two are going to end up a couple by the end of the book? How can this book advertise itself as a romance when the female lead is constantly trying to get the male lead killed? I hate, hate, HATE this trope, with the passion of a thousand fiery suns. Especially when Bramford's done nothing to deserve it.
Bramford tries to shut her up by pinning her face against his chest. Mistake.
The incredibly wonderful feel of his warm body -- not a Holo-Image, but a real, live body -- stunned her. She registered the sensation of his arms around her bare thighs and shoulders. Pressing her cheek against his hard chest, she heard his heart beat against her ear -- alive.
Eden's world stopped. Her joints loosened, her heart felt expansive, even her mind stretched to find Bramford remarkably appealing. At the same time, she became aware of a dangerous, inescapable abyss opening up inside of her. If she gave into her feelings, she might be lost forever. -- p. 102
Still not sorry for the Undertale pics...
This one was just too perfect.
It's at this point that the natives begin to fall to their knees and chant "El Tigre! El Tigre!" Wat?
Her father peered out the cabin door, quickly assessing the situation. "They think you're El Tigre, the Jaguar Man. Imagine, the long-awaited Aztec God." -- p. 103
Star Wars did it better...
Multiple problems with this. First of all, El Tigre is Spanish -- which I would nitpick, but information online says that many modern-day Huaorani do speak Spanish -- and it translates to "tiger." Last time I checked, jaguars are NOT tigers, and I seriously doubt anyone's going to mistake a jaguar for a tiger. If anything, the Huaroani would be more likely to mistake a tiger for a jaguar (though I doubt it, there's some BIG differences in size, body shape, color, and pattern between the two species), seeing as tigers are not native to South America.
Second of all, the Aztec Empire never expanded into South America -- it was an ancient kingdom in Mexico and Central America. Did Foyt perhaps mean the Incan Empire? Perhaps, but not all the indigenous people in the Ecuador area were Incan.
Third of all, while there IS an Aztec god associated with the jaguar (Tezcatlipoca), he isn't shown to appear as a "jaguar man." And he's not the "long-awaited" god -- the god the Aztecs believed would return to lead their people again was Quetzalcoatl, not his rival Tezcatlipoca. (I read a lot about Aztec gods when I was a teenager, okay?) And the Huaorani did NOT worship either god -- their religion was more focused on spiritualism, animism, and totems, and while the jaguar was associated with shamans, but they did NOT have a jaguar god.
In a lot of ways, doing half-assed research like this is way worse than doing no research at all. Because Foyt gets some of her facts regarding the Huaorani right, people are liable to take her at her word when she attributes the wrong facts to them or just outright makes stuff up. People who don't do their research or don't already know these things might assume she's right, and come away seriously misinformed. I'm aware that this is fiction, but in fiction based at least somewhat on reality, smart readers expect the author to have done their homework. When they pull a Dan Browned and fudge their facts like this, it's incredibly frustrating, especially to those of us who have actually researched this stuff.
Bramford seems to be lapping up the attention, and Eden's disgusted, even though her father suggests she's now protected because she's seen as divine by association with El Tigre. (*eyeroll*) Did it occur to you, Eden, that maybe Bramford's playing the part because your lives depend on it? Sort of like Miguel and Tulio in The Road to El Dorado -- because insisting he's not a god is liable to get the lot of you killed?
But of course, we get one more description of his furry physique. Yes, I am typing out most of the "hot and bothered" sections for you, the reader, to "enjoy." They are all really this terrible, and I want you all to suffer with me. I'm evil like that.
In spite of her disgust, Eden's eyes riveted on his broad, dark chest that gleamed in the sunlight. Even the molecules of air seemed to fall away from his powerful physique. Maybe he did deserve to be worshiped, she admitted. Then, as he waved imperiously to his adoring public, she wanted to slap him. -- p. 103
You're welcome.
We get "Aunt Emily's" most famous poem -- the one about "I'm Nobody! Who are you? Are you Nobody too?" -- and Eden feels sorry for herself that she's being ignored in favor of Bramford. Oh, shut up, brat.
Bramford immediately takes charge, ordering vehicles loaded up, and Eden's father goes on about some totally-made-up prophecy about how a fabled Jaguar Man was supposed to come back and lead the people, and talks about how maybe the Indians were right about spirits all along. Um... is a man of science really going to say all this? He also says "this is the happiest day of my life," which makes Eden wonder if her birth even counts. Again, shut up, girl. Given how much of a spoiled rotten brat you turned out to be, I would wonder how high your birth ranks too.
Now they're off to a place called "Zona Intangible," which Eden's father says means "No Man's Land" but actually just translates to "Intangible Area." And does Eden worry for her life or safety?
Oh, you silly reader...
Exactly what she most feared: now, she'd never find anyone to mate. -- p. 105
Talk about a one-track mind... ugh.
So Foyt fails at research, Eden's still a twat, and this book is full of ugly racism and badly written "romantic" prose. Were we expecting anything else?
