Chapter 17 -- Too Bad They're Not the Berries from Hunger Games...

The book I mentioned in the last post is on its way to the library, so I should have my grubby hands on it soon!  Like I said, I don't anticipate a huge delay in the Revealing Eden posts, since this one's pretty short, but hopefully people will enjoy this one regardless.  It's controversial and (reportedly) horrible in its own right, from what I've read, and made even better/worse by the fact that it comes from a famous and respected writer instead of a random self-published yahoo like Foyt.

In the meantime, let's move on to the Furry Romance... I mean the next chapter of Revealing Eden.

The last chapter ended with Eden and Bramford cuddling just after nearly drowning in a river thanks to Eden's stupidity.  And because this is Revealing Eden, the next chapter opens with a bird singing and Eden immediately calling it by its Latin name.  I could whittle the drinking game down to "take a drink every time Eden calls a plant or animal by its Latin name" and someone would still get black-out drunk reading this stupid book...

Also, out of curiosity's sake, I looked up the particular bird she used in this scene, a black-faced solitaire.  It lives in Costa Rica and Panama, not Ecuador -- and none of those countries even share borders, so it's not like one blundered on over from a neighboring area either.  If you're going to do your research on wildlife, Foyt, maybe you should focus on what species are indigenous to your location instead of just looking up the Latin names...

Bramford starts to wake up, and we get more "romantic" writing that sounds more like one of the X-Men just discovering their powers.

He began to stir, his hand falling down the length of her back, leaving a trail of electric sparks.  She gasped, as they exploded in her brain. -- p. 119

FYI, don't Google "head explosion" if you just ate

or don't want to hate yourself...

Have I mentioned lately that Foyt's attempts at writing good similes and metaphors, or romantic prose, or much fiction in general, stink?  I'm sure I must have at some point...

Anyhow, Bramford gets up, and we get the lovely revelation that his pants are "in tatters."  Thankfully we don't get a detailed description full of horrible metaphors about his junk...  He growls at Eden and walks away, and she immediately thinks "beast" at him.  He just nearly drowned trying to save your sorry butt from your own Darwin-Award-worthy stunt, girl, I think he's got a right to be a little ticked at you.  Plus, have you not realized yet that people just don't have the time to lavish attention on you 24/7?  Or are you just that egocentric?

Bramford finds a gourd and uses it to get a drink from the lake, Eden watches him drink like a creeper and then admires the scenery, we get the Latin name for the ducks on the lake for no good reason, yadda yadda yadda.  Also, Eden misses her Life-Band and states that the real world feels "unreal" without it.  Was this supposed to be a commentary on our Internet-addicted world?  Maybe this book would have been better if it focused on THAT instead of racism, even if it would have made it a weak Ready Player One ripoff...

Bramford offers her water, and we get... you guessed it, more awkwardly-written attraction!

Her hand brushed against his, as she took the gourd from him.  Once more she felt a crazy, magnetic pull towards him.  She could feel his eyes burning into her as she gulped thirstily. -- p. 120

Eden realizes she can now drink as much water as she wants without rationing and laughs, which gets Bramford glaring at her in disgust.  She, of course, assumes it's because she "looked like a freak," but it's something else.

"At least I'm alive.  Thanks to you."  It sounded like an accusation, which Eden immediately regretted.

Bramford stiffened.  "You could have gotten us both killed."

"No one asked you to come in after me."

"What was I supposed to do?  Let you drown?"

"What do you care?"  -- p. 121

Now to be fair, Eden DOES thank him for saving her life here... but she does it in such a way that it still sounds pretty ungrateful.  And her getting snarky at the guy who just saved her life really isn't winning her any brownie points here.

Bramford looks like he wants to hit her -- and in a weird Fifty-Shades-ish twist, Eden "almost" wants him to hit her -- but instead he offers her a handful of acai berries and says they'll relieve her oxy-deprivation.  Hmmm, maybe I spoke too soon last chapter, but the point stands that I still haven't seen her show symptoms of withdrawal, so I still maintain that Foyt should have either researched drug addition or just dropped that sub-plot entirely.

Shockingly, we don't get the Latin name for acai berries... but despite them being toted as a superfood  and antioxidant online and being able to cure anything from diabetes to impotence, I can't find anything that claims they can relieve drug withdrawal symptoms.  Well, I suppose people make up enough claims about the health benefits of acai, why not Foyt?  She seems happy enough making other stuff up... though am I just being picky, expecting a fiction writer to do their dang research?

At least she's not trying to pass hers off

as actual fact, I suppose...

Eden decides to be a brat and refuses to eat, so Bramford eats the berries.  Eden wonders how they're going to get back to her father, and Bramford announces they're not going back.

"But what about my father?"

Bramford's eyes narrowed with a faraway look.  Eden had the eerie feeling he could see into the future, maybe like El Tigre, after all.  But that was impossible. -- p. 122

Argh... you just barely found out about this totally-made-up god, how do you know he can even see into the future?  I suppose that's just an assumed power of gods in general, but still... and the fact that they're still going on about this El Tigre god who's NOT EVEN A REAL MYTH, let alone one worshiped by this particular tribe, makes the mythology buff in me want to flip a table.

Me too, Prowl... me too

Bramford says they'll meet the Huaorani back at camp.  Eden asks where it is, hoping to backtrack and get the Life-Band again, but Bramford refuses to tell her.

"What?  Do you think I'll tell someone?" she said, with a pang of guilt.  That was exactly what she hoped to do.

He cocked an eyebrow.  "Given the chance, you'd betray me in a heartbeat."

"Betray you?  I didn't ask to come here.  I just want to go home."

"We don't always get what we want, Eden." -- p. 122

For being the designated Hate Sink of the novel, Bramford is really the only reasonable and smart character, random Latin names notwithstanding.  Between this, his heroic nature, and the fact that he's the only character who will call Eden on her bullcrap, he's pretty much my favorite character from this book... or really, the only character I don't want to see die in a fire or get eaten.  It's a shame the author seems to want us to dislike him along with Eden.

Eden thinks "what did Bramford know about disappointment" but then sees his new furry form and figures now he knows what it's like to be different.  I'm sorry, but even if you've flipped around who's the persecuted race and who's not, this comes across as uncomfortable.

Then Eden mouths off to him again.

"Maybe I should have let you sink," he said, turning on her.

"Well, why didn't you?  How am I supposed to survive by day?  And what's going to happen to my father in this sinkhole?  Did you think of that when you kidnapped us and brought us here" --she jerked her arm in an arc-- "to this deserted, sunny place?  No, as usual, you only thought about yourself-"

Alas, this doesn't happen...

Bramford jumped on her, pinning her beneath him.  His brutally handsome face hovered over hers.  Eden stared, transfixed, into fiery eyes as an unfamiliar fluttering darted in her chest, like a small bird released from its cage.  She kicked her feet and squirmed, but she was powerless against him. -- p. 122-123

Mandatory squicked-out Starscream face

Eden taunts him, telling him he'd enjoy tearing her to pieces.  At this point, girl, who wouldn't?  Bramford calls her a pain in the ass and forces her to eat the berries, which she says are "almost as good as oxy."  I'm pretty sure most of the medical claims regarding acai are bogus, Foyt... stop acting like they can cure drug addiction or give you a high.

(On an aside note, as I was trying to come up with a title for this post I suddenly thought "wouldn't it be great if these were the nightlock berries from Hunger Games and our protagonist just dropped dead from poisoning in this chapter?  Wishful thinking...)

Bramford then picks up Eden and carries her piggyback, saying she won't be able to walk where they're going.  O...kay?  This just leads to more awkward quasi-romantic (queasy-romantic?) dialogue.

Eden tentatively wrapped her legs around his broad back, barely able to encircle his girth.  In spots, Bramford's downy fur rubbed against her skin, surprisingly pleasant.  A faint shudder ran through her. -- p. 124

Bramford tells her to hold on, and we get a doozy of a closing paragraph, which just happens to be another infamous excerpt that's made the rounds of the Internet.

She sunk her fingers into his long silky hair, like reins on a horse.  As if she controlled the beast.  Eden knew it wasn't true, but she enjoyed the illusion just the same. -- p. 124

...no.

Just... no.  I just... no.  NO.  WHAT THE FLYING FRAKKITY FRAG ARE YOU DOING FOYT AAAAAAAARGHasleplkalskdjfls... *bangs head on keyboard*

...

...sorry, I just needed a moment there.  The sheer audacity of that line just floors me every time I come across it (like I said, I'd previously seen it in reviews and on blogs talking about this book).  Foyt goes on and on about how this book is supposed to show Caucasians how terrible racism is, but yet again it's indulging in some pretty horrific racist imagery of its own.  Having a white girl riding a big black man like a horse, flat-out calling him a beast and enjoying the feeling of controlling him, evokes all kinds of disgusting mental images, even if you do keep your mind out of the gutter...

Boy, this book is SLOW.  It seriously feels like nothing much has happened story-wise since the labs blew up.  For all its unfortunate implications and awful moments, there are huge chunks that are just boring and a pain to slog through.  In a sick sort of way I almost welcome those moments that make me want to chuck the book into a bonfire, because even if they're terrible at least they're interesting.  Too bad Foyt couldn't seem to make the book interesting in a GOOD way.