Gar, I wasn't sold on Kushiel either. In fact, I couldn't finish the first one (I stopped at the point where she gets raped in her first client meeting or whatever), and it's been sitting on my desk for about five months so I can ship it to Micole, who wants it.

It all felt wayyy too ornate, and that kind of sexual kink really doesn't do it for me. Prostitution still feels like prostitution. ::shrugs::

Suela, you got further into it than I did. I should give my copy to someone who would appreciate it. People I generally trust loved it, but it was just not my cup of tea at all.

I made it all the way through, based on the strength of Carey's world-building and wondering how she was going to resolve the pleasure/pain thing, but while I'm glad I read it, Phaedre has become my textbook example of a Mary Sue - no matter who else is involved in the conflict, or what their intelligences or expertises are, it's Phaedre who always comes up with the right answer. And everyone falls in love with her! And in lust!

But I thought it was brave of the author to center a series around a character with unusual sexual wiring, and the friend I gave my copy of it to LOVED it, so I'm looking forward to Banewrecker.

I loved the Kushiel books, but, at the time, I also thought of Phedre as a Mary Sue. (The multi-named main character in the Bitterbynd Books by Cecilia Dart-Thorton forced me to reconsider the term.) I thought the world-building was vivid and I really liked the other characters.

I am about 100 pages into Banewrecker, and, while I think it's an interesting story, I am really finding the narrative incredibly repetitive. I can't see that there is any reason for the constant repetition of certain details, and I am finding it annoying.

Still, I am enjoying it enough to keep reading to find out what happens and to see if repetition leads to a greater purpose.

After much consideration, all I can conclude is that my Mary Sue alarms are calibrated differently than many readers'--I mean, not only do I love Phedre, I also love Harriet Vane. But the Emily books are my least favorite of LM Montgomery's, because I'm all, "Smoke-purple eyes, pointy ears, and she has the Sight? Gimme a break! And Emily Byrd Starr is a cheesy name if there ever was one. Now where did my Pat and Anne books go again?" Whereas IME other LMM fans list the Emily books as their favorites more often than not.

Which is all to say, WRT the Kushiel series, I thought it was brilliant.

(And there would be a smiley there if Buffistas did smileys.)

Susan, I think my Mary Sue alerts are on different levels than many people's as well. I adore Mary Russell in the Anderson books despite her Mary-Sueness, for example. I don't know--maybe it's a genre thing. I tend to be a lot more forgiving of a Mary Sue in a mystery or fantasy than I am in a general lit book.

In some genres, like sf/fantasy, I think you need to have characters with remarkable characteristics, especially if the character's the lead. Something extraordinary happens to them, and they have to rise to the challenge, discovering/using traits they may not have really used before (though extraordinary singing voices have fewer applications than one might think). Luke Skywalker looks like an ordinary farm boy at the beginning, but we know where he ends up.

For me, I think it's a combo of whether the character fits the setting and type of story and how much I can identify or relate to her. Though that's all after-the-fact analysis. It's not like I read along thinking, "Some people would call this character a Mary Sue, but I like her." Either it strikes me that way and I have problems with the character, or I enjoy the book and the character and am stunned by the chorus of "Mary Sue, Mary Sue."

Given that I often enjoy other people's Mary Sues, I've worried a bit that people might find Mary Sues in my own work. But I've decided that all I can really do is write the kind of stories I want to write and wish were already being written, and hope they find an audience.

I have an extremely sensitive Mary-Sue-o-meter. Enough so that I have to weigh in my mind -- is it Mary Sueism for the author to use her protagonist as a thesis? (That is, if the character exists in service to the author's idea, rather than the author's simple fantasy, is that Mary Sue?) This is one reason why I prefer the term not to carry an inherent value-judgement.

(An example of the author's idea character would be the protagonist of Parable of the Sower, where the woman isn't perfect, but is the main vessel of expression of what the author is trying to say. So, she has Authority despite not being remarkable, because the author speaks through her.)

Luke Skywalker looks like an ordinary farm boy at the beginning, but we know where he ends up.

Well, he looks kind of like a petulant brat at the beginning. And, I always would have liked the story better if he'd been some random kid, who randomly got caught up in an adventure, and was lucky enough and skilled enough not to get himself killed. I do get tired of every protagonist turning out to be Born For Destiny.

So much so, that when ongoing characters suddenly develop Destinies or Amazing Powers or The Viewpoint of Righteousness, I have been known to call it Luke Skywalker Syndrome.

Nutty, you know, that's one of the things that Terry Brooks writes about in his book on writing (which, I have to admit, I thought was better written than his actual books). He talks about how he always tries to create protagonists that fall into destiny rather than get born into it. For the most part, I've been trying to follow the same format in my own work, although my genre does rather naturally lend itself to "amazing powers" etc.

It's not like I read along thinking, "Some people would call this character a Mary Sue, but I like her." Either it strikes me that way and I have problems with the character, or I enjoy the book and the character and am stunned by the chorus of "Mary Sue, Mary Sue."

Valid point, Susan. I am the same way.

Given that I often enjoy other people's Mary Sues, I've worried a bit that people might find Mary Sues in my own work. But I've decided that all I can really do is write the kind of stories I want to write and wish were already being written, and hope they find an audience.

This this this.