Customer Reviews

Roman Dusk: A Novel of the Count Saint-Germain

5 star:		(6)
4 star:		(3)
3 star:		(4)
2 star:		(2)
1 star:		(0)

 

 

The structure of the series is so well-established that a spoiler would be impossible, so no warnings here. Yarbro has returned to Rome, and that's fine with me -- I enjoy any history, anywhere, through her eyes, though I confess to preferring the novels set in less well-known times and places, such as early colonial South America. I can never fault her research, but I'm ready to start faulting her writing.

"Roman Dusk" contains several of her well-worn plot elements: an ungrateful recipient (or two, or more) of undeserved but unflagging charity; a woman repressed, intimidated, exploited by a sexually-peculiar man whom she cannot avoid, escape, or contest; St. Germain's own chronic depression; futility in the face of official corruption; no good deed going unpunished; and a herd of angry male adolescent religious zealots getting their ya-yas by abusing people who have lives more (carnally) satisfying than their own (as in the St. Germain book set in the reign of Lorenzo de Medici).

I'm ready to forgive her all of that but I have finally had it with her killjoy sex scenes. In book after book, scene after scene, she labors mightily to achieve erotic escalation and then CANNOT resist throwing a cinderblock into the bubblebath by flaunting a term so arcane, so rare, so strange, that the thread of tension snaps. Though the reader can be certain that the characters will find satisfaction sometime in the next five sentences, the hapless observer is no longer along for the ride, being forced to go look up... let's see, what is it this time? "Amplectant" on page 105 (which brought up the decidedly non-erotic image of the tropical toads I used to raise forming amplexus, which is erotic to the toads, I'm sure, but not so much to the average human observer) and here, on 248, a pair of lovers are "savoring the inscience of their flesh." That translates to "lack of knowledge of their flesh." "Amplectant" means clinging to, as with the tendrils of a vine. (Points off also for misuse of "insouciant torment" on the same page in the same scene; however pleasant erotic suspense may be, it hardly qualifies as "nonchalant torture.")

A few books back, "apolaustic" was the big ol' word-brick tossed into the heated bed; more than once, if I recall correctly. There's always something. Ms. Yarbro, knock it off. Put down the antique thesaurus and write a sex scene with some flow to it. We know where you're going, and we're willing to go there with you, so quit being such a spoilsport by intrusively displaying arcane erudition instead of doing something to gently elevate the eroticism. It's ANNOYING. And it's obvious that you're doing it on purpose; the vocabulary lessons are never as obnoxious elsewhere in your books.

Speaking of which, many rather obscure deities of the Greco-Roman pantheon get a mention in "Roman Dusk," and are kindly identified in a glossary at the conclusion of the book -- Carna, Copia, Fraus, Phobus, Mania, Somnus, the Parcae, Verplaca and Vertumnus, et al. And that's part of what makes the series so good -- the reader always learns something while being allowed to revel in sensuous descriptions of spectacular jewels, glorious fabrics, the height of period style (and let's give her props for keeping descriptions of garments that are invariably red, black, and silver fresh after all this time). It is the consistently velvety texture of Yarbro's prose that makes the crude interruptions of the more passionate passages so conspicuous, suggesting an inner Puritan in this author that is entirely dissonant with the rest of her presentation.

I enjoy the St. Germain novles not just for the vampire element, which is actually quite small, or the romance, which is there but understated. The one thing that draws me again and again to this series is the level of historical detail and color that Yarbro brings to the table. Roman Dusk is no exception.

Yarbro brings the declining phase of the Roman Empire to life in this book, showing how waste and bureaucratic excess has drained the blood of the Empire more than anything St. Germain would ever do. It is fascinating how St. Germain is actually the most human subject in the book, and the living are the true vampires. This novel is a great read for those who enjoy history and would like to vicariously feel what life in Rome would have been like as it started its slow decline into chaos.

Roman Dusk was everything one can want in a St. Germain novel. There is scrumptuous historical detail. There are the usual erotic sex scenes (with the Count's perculiar kind of love making/feeding.) There are villins, ranging from the over officious tax man to the fanatical Christian who is pretty sure that St. Germain is the spawn of Satan. The Christians in this novel are not the nice people from Sunday School who are always having beautific smiles on their faces while the lions approach and Peter Ustinov (aka Nero) looks on bemused from the Imperial Box. These Christians are nasty people, somewhere between Al Qaeda and over zealous frat boys. Roman Dawn is set in the third century, when the Roman Empire was starting to go to hell in a hand basket, but doing it with lots of parties, games, and other entertainments. A must read for St. Germain fans.

It is the beginning of the end for the once mighty Roman Empire. Barbarians are at the gates with the outposts falling to the enemies. Legions are not getting paid while ethics no longer go as far they once did leading to widespread hardship and fear. Officials are corrupt using their positions of power for personal gain with extortion being the norm.

Vampire Ragoczy Germainus Sanct' Fransicus (AKA Count St. Germain) has bad luck when he crosses path with Batsho the decuriae, who collects tax money. Initially, the vampire remains ignorant to Batsho's animosity towards him as he is preoccupied with healing a suffering widow suffering with his special medicines. He gets his nourishment from a call girl that lacks the emotional intensity he craves when he dines. Inquiries about the vampire's goods that need to be taxed call his attention to Batsho's corruption and animosity to him personally because he is a rich foreigner. When Ragoczy learns that one of his servants spies for Batsho, he starts to arrange his departure from Rome, but the Christians have other plans for him.

Every time one reads a St. Germain thriller, one obtains an astute history lesson that is cleverly wrapped inside a delightful vampire tale. The story line in ROMAN DUSK occurs around 160 AD, which focuses on the corruption of the Rome's powerful at the cost of long term security. Thus the beginning cracks that ultimately lead to the fall of the City-State are occurring as the affluent get wealthier and everyone poorer. This time the vampire is caught in the middle of a power struggle between the current dishonest leaders and the intolerant Christians pushing to eradicate all the sinners and demon offspring by dispatching them to hell.

Harriet Klausner

I have been reading Yarbro's Saint-Germain stories since Hotel Transylvania first came out - and I have loved them all, including the Olivia and Madalaine novels. I have them all and I will never give them away. Whenever I'm tired of today's news, and politics and other daily things that might bring me down, I pick up one of the Saint-Germain's and I travel back in time - CQY's descriptions of the places and times and the historical figures are impressive and immerse me mentally to a point where I can "forget" about today for a least a little while - and Saint-Germain is always so strong, intelligent and compassionate - I've often wished that I could have met him.

I don't want to spoil the plot for CQY's fans - but "Roman Dusk" will be a favorite of any Saint-Germain fan - or for those who like to read about times and places in the past.

Chelsea Quinn Yarbro's Saint Germain is entertainment blended with history. With `Roman Dusk' readers experience Rome with insight and reasons for its fall by following the Count, a most unusual vampire, through compelling events.

The Count lives at Olivia Clemen's estate and is a foreigner in Rome. She has been his friend for two centuries and doesn't currently reside there. The time is 160 AD and is called the Decadence. This is a time when bureaucracy grows in corruption, the nobles have become overindulgent, public entertainment is violent, the gap between rich and poor widens, the standards of education erodes, and maintenance of society law gives way to political and commercial influence. Somehow this sounds vaguely familiar.

Count Saint-Germain, otherwise known as Sanct-Franciscus, attempts to go about his business in an orderly and professional manner, but spies watch his every move, those in his employ steal from him, and Roman politicians look for ways to make him an example.

Sanct-Franciscus attempts to find companionship to ease his loneliness, and to provide him nourishment. This isn't easy. While tending as a physician to the severely ailing well-to-do Domina Adicia, he grows ever closer to her daughter. He soon realizes she can provide him that rare and satisfying closeness. Domina's brother, a fanatical convert to the new religion of Christianity, will not have it though. Not only does he openly work to keep them apart, but seeks to destroy Sanct-Franciscus.

Will being a vampire be enough to save Sanct-Franciscus when peril comes from all directions? His very life is threatened by the true death. Only amazing abilities and careful thought will save him, if he can manage it.

As a lover, the Sanct Franciscus is unordinary here too, and not at all like mortal men. Women in the Roman time period are far from being treated as equal to men. Many are trained at a very young age, such as fifteen, for men's pleasure. Women may not own property either, and have little say in most matters.

In exchange for nourishment, Sanct Franciscus provides ecstasy for chosen female companions. He concerns himself only with her pleasure saying, "Your pleasure is my pleasure; I have no other. What you achieve, I achieve, and only what you achieve." This is amazing to these women. Most lovers care only about their own pleasures, especially in Rome. "You don't fall on me like a ravening wolf, as so many do," says Melidulci, Sanct Franciscus's latest companion.

As with all of Chelsea Quinn Yarbro's Saint-Germain series, readers find themselves learning history and being entertained. Each book points out the ways of the time period, including politics and social graces. Sanct Franciscus lives through these periods, and is unlike any other vampire I've read about, or viewed in a movie. His business sense, manners, and concern for humans is better than most humans themselves.

This book, and the others in the series, would make a great teaching tool for high-school or college. Students would read `Roman Dusk' and the others more eagerly than any history book, and learn more because they'd pay attention.

Chelsea Quinn Yarbro's Saint-Germain books do not grab readers by the throat and rivet their attention to the spot. Instead they provide a peephole to real history and an imagined vampire. He is one of the most intelligent, thoughtful, honorable, and professional characters readers will ever encounter. Readers will go away comparing Rome to today and question the validity of their own values. The writing is intelligent, masterful, and calming, just as the main character the Count is. A thought provoking voyage and a reading pleasure.

Like the many fans of St. Germain, I await the latest installment in the history of his long un-life with anticipation. Roman Dusk is no disappointment. The author seems particularly at home in ancient Rome and the story is well paced and fascinating.
One new element in this chapter of St. Germain's story is the glossary that clarifies certain terms and city names used in the book. It's an excellent addition. Reading some earlier novels I puzzled over some of the terms used, though my enjoyment was little diminished.
Now the wait begins for the next story of St. Germain.

Or ninteenth, if you don't count the spinoff series featuring Olivia and Madeline, two vampiric "offspring" of St. Germaine.

The character of St. Germaine is as delightful as ever, but in this book the plot was a little slow. There was very little actual action, and an unfortunate amount of political manuvering. In that regard, it was somewhat reminiscent of the "Olivia" spinoffs; we see very little of the vampiric powers of St. Germain. Still, the book was not unenjoyable, and if there was somewhat less eroticism than there has been in other St. Germain books, what there was was very well done. And of course, the historical setting, in the late Roman period, was very well-researched.

I found the book heavy on detail, and full of letters to and from the main person. As far as a vampire novel it sucks.

I love this series because each book takes me into a different era and place, many of which I know next to nothing about. Yarbro obviously puts a great deal of effort into her research, and is an exceptionally vivid storyteller with a gift for lyrical writing. However, I can't escape the conclusion that the series is getting rather tired.

This latest instalment in the St-Germain series essentially follows exactly the same plot structure as its predecessors: hero attracts suspicion from xenophobic locals, despite his acts of charity and almost indefatigable niceness; a beautiful but lonely and tortured love interest; long angst-ridden conversations between St-Germain and his manservant, most of which tell us what we already know; and inevitably, events spiralling out of control and endangering the protagonists. As always, the setting (here, the late Roman Empire) is depicted well, and Yarbro gives a strong sense of time and place, sometimes to an uncomfortable degree: for example, a description of the so-called "entertainment" in the arena, during Heliogabalus's three day Games, turned even my relatively strong stomach.

However, the formulaic nature of the plot meant that it was only the history that held my interest, as well as my attachment to St Germain as a character. I cared little for Doma Ignatia or Melidulci, and I find the "love" scenes almost impossible to read now (in fact, I skimmed them, in this one); we are constantly reminded that St-Germain has lived for thousands of years, that he is haunted and tormented by loss and depression; that Roger and Olivia worry about him ... and so on. In every St-Germain novel, and this one is no different, there is an element of exposition - ie. that he is a vampire but not evil, references to previous love interests, etc - which is helpful to any reader coming to the series for the first time, but gets a little repetitive for someone who knows the character well.

Also, another reviewer commented that because the series has been written out of chronological order, most readers who have followed it will know that he survives into the 20th century, so any threat to his life in a book set in an earlier period fails to provoke any real sense of apprehension. I think this is a valid point.

Nonetheless, this novel is still beautifully written, and worth a read just for the history alone. However I wonder whether St-Germain ought to be given a rest for a while, and some new characters' stories told.