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Newest vampire novel comes with a distinct LDS flavor
By Doug Gibson"... I don't blame God one way or the other. You want a universe with free will and all that, this is the universe you're gonna get."
-- "Angel Falling Softly"
The vampire has evolved much faster than humans these past 100 years. Bram Stoker's loathsome, hairy Dracula morphed into Bela Lugosi's charming Gentleman Dracula. Rodent-like Nosferatu was later replaced on screen by dandies Christopher Lee, Tom Cruise and Gary Oldman.
This century provides us sexier, "younger" vampires, seemingly with a conscience, locked in a struggle -- instinctive hunger battling loneliness. And these vampires burst with passion. The passion is what sells Stephenie Meyer's "Twilight" series, even if the youngsters reading the "tame" tales don't realize that yet. (The adult readers do.)
In the new novel "Angel Falling Softly," vampires have infiltrated a Cottonwood Estates LDS ward, and it's steamier in Sandy than the town of Forks. I'll drop comparisons to Meyer's books now, because, although it's natural to accuse novelist Eugene Woodbury of piggy-backing on the "Twilight" series' success, his vampire tale is different.
Very pale, very young-looking Milada Daranyi arrives in Salt Lake City. She's chief investment officer of Daranyi Capital Management, part of Daranyi Enterprises International. DEI wants to take over a Utah medical research and development firm. Milada takes temporary lodgings in a Sandy home with a cool, shaded basement. She greets her mostly LDS neighbors with cool, inquisitive politeness.
Rachel Forsythe, the bishop's wife, becomes a closer friend to Milada. Rachel's very young child, Jennifer, is dying. Rachel's husband and teen daughter seem to have accepted Jennifer's fate. Rachel hasn't. As she realizes what Milada may be, she entertains new, darker plans to keep her daughter alive.
Woodbury's vampires in "Angel Falling Softly" adapt well to the world. They can endure the day so long as they wear dark clothes and a lot of sunblock. They don't need blood too often, but are ravenous when hungry. And blood is tastier, more nutritious, if taken during sexual passion.
"Angel Falling Softly" may surprise LDS readers looking for genre fiction. There are a few erotic, semi-explicit sex scenes. They're not distasteful though. The erotic passion in Woodbury's tale underscores the desperation of the two protagonists, Milada and Rachel.
Woodbury, who lives in Orem, is a talented, descriptive writer. Flashback chapters of Milada and her sisters' vampire origins in Eastern Europe merge smoothly with the plot. Another clever writing ploy is Milada's playful habit of referencing long-past events as personal experiences. She does it so subtly her listeners often miss the clues.
Passion and the supernatural are writing strengths for Woodbury. Unfortunately, a tendency to indulge in minutiae may weary readers. Much of "Angel Falling Softly" is devoted to DEI's attempted takeover of a medical research film. Financial detail after financial detail is recounted. There's nothing wrong with the writing and the financial subplot is integral to the tale, but it slows the pace of the main plot of Milada and Rachel conspiring to keep Jennifer alive.
Stereotyping hampers "Angel," as well. Milada and Rachel are the only developed characters. The Cottonwood ward members seem like extras in a Halestorm Entertainment film. One weak subplot -- introduced for comic relief -- involves Milada dating a super-religious returned missionary. That plot twist peters out for lack of interest. One strength: Milada's interactions with fellow vampires, particularly her sister Kamilla. The differences of the sisters' lives mirror theological distinctions.
"Angel Falling Softly" is a great read, better than 99 percent of Mormon fiction out there. It also takes our beliefs out of comfort zones, inviting analysis and debate. No matter what happens, we've learned something.
A postcript: Apparently "Angel Falling Softly" has inspired some debate. According to publisher Zarahemla Books, popular sci-fi author Orson Scott Card has ridiculed "Angels" as absurd and disrespectful. On the novel's Amazon.com page, an LDS reviewer trashed the novel, in part for not meeting so-called standards of Jesus Christ.
If Card has literary objections to "Angel," I respect that. I tag it as a good, but not great, novel. As for those who trash it because it fails to meet a self-defined religious criteria test, I tire of that attitude. It's narrow-minded. It keeps us locked in our own personal panic rooms, free from introspection and reconsideration.
Gibson is the Standard-Examiner's assistant editorial page editor. He can be reached at dgibson@standard.net.
Add Your Comment
I agree, definitely a better book than 99 percent of LDS fiction. However, I liked the financial stuff, it made the story more interesting for me.
Card has no room to criticize this story; his own novellas and short stories about LDS people after the Apocalypse were overall much edgier and played a lot looser with theological concepts. I think he needs to moderate his pie hole and look inward. He also might try reading the novel before he spouts off.
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