Lucy Undying is a Lot (Spoiler-Free Review)
I'm not sure if I want creepy health empires in my sapphic Dracula retellings.
Information
Media: Books & Literature
Genre: Fantasy and Romance
Demographic: Adult
Representation: Main F/F Romance
Do I Recommend? Not for me, could be for you.
Rating: 2/5
Lucy Undying is Kiersten White’s big, silly sapphic vampire retelling about Lucy Westenra, Dracula’s first victim in Bram Stoker’s now-legendary 1897 novel. With a gorgeous cover and an intriguing premise (and vampires!), it’s hard not to feel seduced by the potential of what Lucy Undying could be. Yet White’s 464-page epic is hard to recommend to anyone but the most eccentric of readers.
Lucy Undying is framed as a tale about obsession, a trait rooted in Lucy’s character. In one of the few twists I enjoyed, White portrays her version of Lucy as an emotionally repressed young adult who finds true (but sadly unrequited) love in her governess, Mina Murray. In order to protect Mina, Lucy willingly sacrifices herself to Dracula, which crystallizes her affection for Mina for eternity.
In my opinion, Lucy Undying is at its best when it explores Lucy’s hyperfixations. For me, Lucy’s neediness and desire were the most intriguing—and integral—parts of her character. Dare I say it, these larger-than-life traits are what make her the most relatable. Who hasn’t fallen into any dark holes of obsession when they were twenty? The best vampire stories are reflections of ourselves if we weren’t restrained by our basic human limitations.
If Lucy Undying were only about Lucy, I might have liked the book a lot more than I did. Unfortunately, Lucy Undying chooses to be a dual narrative from both the perspective of Lucy and her much less interesting modern love interest, Iris Goldaming. Iris is the wealthy heiress to the global health empire (and cult) Goldaming Life, but she wants nothing to do with her family’s business on account of having morals. In an attempt to get away, she runs to London, where she encounters Lucy disguised as the museum curator Elle.
One of my biggest “icks” in romances is when I have to question why one love interest would ever fall in love with the other. Lucy is tragic and beautiful and seductive. Iris is… millennial, pretentious, and so, so basic. Her most alluring feature appears to be her capacity for basic human empathy (a common trait in boring main characters who bag much hotter love interests), and she spends most of the novel alternating between simping for Lucy and thinking about how she needs to “leave” Lucy to protect her. Ugh.
If Iris is starting to sound like your average queer Tumblr girl’s self-insert, that’s because that’s basically what she is. Lucy Undying doesn’t even try very hard to hide this fact, because every character’s dialogue and internal monologue sounds chronically online, with such noteworthy phrases as “Breasts really are fantastic. I mean, just the best” and “This house is one hundred percent my angel’s shit.” My eyes—they’re rolling. Don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against this type of writing—as long as it’s not in a book trying to cosplay as serious gothic literature.
Speaking of my issues with Lucy Undying’s tone, I really struggled to vibe with (or care about) Goldaming Life. As White mentions in her acknowledgements, the idea of mashing a book about vampires together with a book about a creepy health empire sounds like a fun concept, but I don’t think a retelling of Dracula from the perspective of Lucy Westenra was the right book for this idea. For a novel marketed as “epic and seductive,” there is remarkably little that is epic or seductive about inheritance disputes and real estate claims.
It’s possible that my lack of enjoyment in Lucy Undying stems from entering with the wrong expectations. I went into Lucy Undying hoping for a poignant and romantic gothic fantasy, and I got a quirky, queer feminist empowerment tale featuring disturbed mother figures and blood-obsessed multi-level marketing schemes. Much like the victims of Goldaming Life, I feel a little bit like I’ve been deceived by the marketing (although to much less fatal effects). If you know what you’re actually getting into, you might love what Lucy Undying is. Me? Not so much.
Also, that third act drags. Frankly, I’m of the opinion that the book would have been better without it.
Have you read Lucy Undying? If so, what are your thoughts? Let me know in the comments below!