Review: Transcendence

Folks, this is going to be one of my more challenging reviews to date.  Why?  Because Transcendence by Shay Savage took parts of Romancelandia by storm a few years ago, including captivating my good buddy, and RWA roomie, KristieJ.  Kristie told me I had to read it.  So I bought this when it was 99 cents and it sat on my Kindle until finally Kristie said I had to promise to read it before RWA in July.  So, I did.  My experience with this book can be wrapped up in one simple, inelegant, response:

WT-Actual-F did I just read?!?!

Seriously.  I want to drown myself in a vat of brain bleach.

The story opens with some half-baked science-y explanation on why our hero can't talk or understand language. Blah, blah, blah SCIENCE!  Once past the prologue we meet our caveman (seriously) hero, Ehd, trying to stay alive after the death of his tribe (wiped out by a fire).  He digs a pit, manages to catch an antelope (or whatever) and in his state of hunger accidentally leaves his spear behind.  When he goes back he notices his pit has captured something else.  A young woman wearing strange clothing and making a lot of weird mouth noises.

The young women, Beh, is from "the future."  But Ehd doesn't know that because he can't communicate or understand what she's saying and damn she makes all these weird mouth noises that hurt his head.  She basically cries a lot and is generally the most annoying thing on the planet Earth, which takes some doing since the reader isn't given her point of view.  That's right kids!  This story is told in first person, present tense, from the hero's point of view.  Yes, the hero who can't talk or understand language.  How he can tell a story to the reader then defies logic - but whatever.  Ours is not to reason why.  Ehd takes one look at our idiot heroine, immediately starts thinking of her as his "mate" and spends the rest of the novel desperately wanting to get her pregnant.

Yes, it's all just as insulting as I'm making it sound.  Don't believe me?  Let's look at the notes I highlighted while reading last night:

At 9%:

However, she seems so frightened of me now, I don’t think she would readily position herself on her hands and knees so I can fill her.  Still, I am much stronger, and if I want inside of her, I can just hold her while I enter her body.  Joining with her in such a way would still feel very good, I imagine, but I don’t like it when she yells and cries, and I think she would probably do that if I have to hold her down to mate with her. These thoughts are making my penis lengthen and become stiff.  I consider stroking myself, but I am afraid it will wake her.  I sigh as I look down on her sleeping face and wonder how long it will be before I can properly mate with her.  I touch her cheek softly again, and I know when I decide to lie with her, I want her to enjoy it.  So how do I get that to happen? Finally, after thinking about it a long time, I decide I need to make her like me.

Wendy's Notes: WT-Actual-F am I reading?!  And wait, how does a caveman hero who cannot understand language know the word "penis?"

At 16%:

As much as I need water and food and shelter, I need to be inside of her—I need to give her a baby.

Wendy's Notes: Sure, why not? Let's roll feminism back 100 years.

At 22%:

I hope if I am patient, she will let me put a baby inside of her soon.

Wendy's Notes: Kill. Me. Now.

At 36%:

We have to mate now before it’s too late. I have to put a baby in her.

Wendy's Notes: Seriously dude. WE GET IT ALREADY!

At 41%:

I can feel the heat in my groin and the hardness of my flesh under my furs, and I know my body is straining to put a baby inside of her as soon as possible.  Before long, the weather will be cold, and Beh will have to have a baby in her soon so it will be big enough to survive the next winter.

Wendy's Notes: Barf and kill me.

At 43%:

I mean—if she touched me there, then surely she’ll let me put a baby in her now, right?

Wendy's Notes: You know, sometimes I'm a little slow but I think I'm beginning to notice a pattern here.../end sarcasm.

At 69%:

My mate likes everything to be clean and dry, and putting my penis in her while she is bleeding is clearly not an option.

Wendy's Notes: What sweet hell is this?! 

At 71%:

We eat; I put my penis inside of her for a while, and then I fall back to sleep.

Wendy's Notes: Proof that some 21st century men haven't evolved all that much from their cavemen ancestors.  Booya!  

And really, that's just the tip of the iceberg.  You've got a time traveling heroine whose point of view you don't get, who cries All. The. Time and doesn't do a damn thing THE ENTIRE STORY to figure out how she got there, how to get back to her own time etc.  Color me wacky, but I think I'd make that my priority over giving it up to a caveman who can't talk.  But the piece de resistance?  When the heroine gets her period the caveman hero fashions up some maxi-pads for her using antelope hide and dried grass.  

People, I can't even. 

Harlequin kills SuperRomance for, presumably, low sales  and THIS!  This is the sort of story that earns glowing 5-star reviews out the ying-yang.  A heroine (yes, she's an idiot - but still...) reduced to broodmare, a story concept that defies logic (How does he know the word penis? How can this story be told from his point of view when HE DOESN'T UNDERSTAND LANGUAGE?!), and a time travel element/explanation that makes even less sense than your typical time travel romance - which, long time romance readers will attest to, takes some serious doing.

I'm done.  I'm out.  I want wine.  Send wine.  Lots and lots of wine.

Final Grade = F