Book 772: The Remaking of Corbin Wale – Roan Parrish

And a bonus Hanukkah novel for what was initially my final book in the 12 Books of MM Holiday Romance binge. I’m capping it at 16 because that’s how many I apparently had already downloaded to my Kindle ¯_(ツ)_/¯. I honestly wasn’t paying attention and as I read and removed I added more. Don’t get me wrong there will be more MM romances, but I need to save the hundreds of others for future years, right?

I say this is a bonus Hanukkah novel because I had completely forgotten this one was Hanukkah rather than Christmas based. I saw it on a holiday list, recognized Parrish’s name and had to grab it. I read Better Than People earlier in the year and found it to be beautifully written and have had a copy of In the Middle of Somewhere sitting on my Kindle since then, so yeah of course I grabbed this.

The Remaking of Corbin Wale is Parrish’s take on the Alice Hoffman’s Practical Magic and I adored it. Don’t get me wrong, it was definitely glacially slow in some places, but for the most part I really enjoyed the slow pace and the simmering heat that builds so slowly to a boil that you don’t realize how much anticipation Parrish has built. I mean the first sex scene, solo at that, doesn’t happen until roughly 60% of the way through the book and the others are evenly paced through the end, but they were worth the wait.

He was the most beautiful man Alex had ever seen. Strange looking, a bit awkward, and half-wild, the way animals were that lived side by side with people but never went inside as pets. His face and the set of his shoulders made Alex want to tramp through the woods as the leaves fell, run through fields to tumble him down on sun-warmed grass, press flowers to his lips to see which were softer. Beautiful. (13)

In this and in Better Than People, Parrish chose at least one main character that has some sort of major baggage. I don’t know if it’s something she always does, but she does write the characters really well. Corbin, as described above, lives outside of societal norms and expectations. A lot of it is how he was raised by his witchy aunts in a house one character refers to as Thornfield Hall (oh hey Jane Eyre), but a lot of it is self-isolation. He has every intention of staying alone until Alex takes an interest in him and makes an offhand comment about baking that gives Corbin an idea to make life better for himself.

Alex on the other hand, is a brash and confident pastry chef/baker who has come home from NYC to take over the coffee shop his parents built after he broke up with his ex and lost his job in a corporate restaurant chain takeover. He just wants to take charge and take care of people and when he finds Corbin, it’s a perfect match if he can just get Corbin to acknowledge his existence and get him to communicate.

‘I know it’s a little corny,’ Alex went on, ‘but I’ve always loved the holidays because there’s something magical about them to me.’ Corbin’s eyes flared, but he still didn’t speak. ‘It’s a time when the whole world seems different. People are kinder to each other, happier. They do things they might not ordinarily do, connect with people they might never speak to otherwise. And what is magic if not the possibility for things to happen that would otherwise be impossible?’ (157)

Parrish’s writing and description are really the highlights of her works. The two I’ve read aren’t super-hot and heavy, but the building simmer in both came directly from her ability to describe the two characters with baggage and the way they existed in such beautiful passages.

Corbin always slept naked, loving the sensuous slide of sheets and blankets against his limbs in the winter, the cool breeze raising hairs on his arms and legs in the spring and autumn, and the warm sun falling on his bare skin on summer mornings. Alex’s eyes heated and he gulped the rest of his whiskey, looking away. (106)

There’s a sex scene that uses a lot of the same nature imagery and descriptions that could’ve been incredibly weird but was so beautifully written that you don’t really even notice the words so much as the feelings between the characters. And then after (maybe before) Corbin acknowledges that most people would find it weird or off-putting, but Alex doesn’t and tells him how beautiful and wonderful his mind is and it’s so heartwarming. The one thing that put me off was the epilogue, it wasn’t bad so much as it was just a little too much. I think she could’ve done a similar thing without the “drama” (it wasn’t that dramatic, just felt like it as I was reading it).

I don’t know if Corbin is the graphic novelist mentioned in Better Than People, or if they’re connected or not, but it definitely felt like they were. I know there’s a follow up to that one planned next year and I will most definitely read it as I’ve enjoyed both books by Parrish I’ve read this year.

Recommendation: This is a beautiful novel and I highly recommend it. I don’t think it’s for everyone (the touch of magical realism), but I thoroughly enjoyed reading another book by Parrish. She has a way with descriptions and “broken” characters. The novel starts with a very low heat that is slowly turned up until all of sudden you’re at a boiling point and she just keeps it there through the end.

Opening Line: “Alex Barrow liked bringing things to life.”

Closing Line: “After, they kissed lazily, hands finding each other. Then they drifted, as the snow fell outside, hearts beating in rhythm, arms and legs braiding together as morning turned to day, day turned into night, and night gathered itself toward another morning. Another, and another, and another.” (Whited out to avoid spoilers, highlight to read.)

Additional Quotes from The Remaking of Corbin Wale
“There was no point asking questions if you already knew the answers. Then, questions were just regrets directed at the future rather than the past.” (79)

“My grandmother always said don’t bake while you’re angry or sad because your bitterness will flavor the bread. You should bake with love if you’re baking for people you love, and they’ll taste the sweetness.” (83)

“That’s the story. We celebrate Chanukah starting on the day of the rededication of the temple. It’s on the Jewish calendar, though, so that’s why it’s a different time every year. It’s also called the Festival of Lights, and my mom always said that she liked celebrating the idea that when they were cleaning up the vandalized temple by the light of the menorah, people were so joyous to be allowed to connect with their god again that it was a celebration. That joy has the power to do remarkable things. Joy can drive out the darkness. Even though we were never religious, she and my dad had a Chanukah party every year because they wanted to celebrate joy. Celebrate the way we can come together and be more powerful than the things that threaten us.” (122)

“. . . ‘I got kind of sad that Chanukah was this thing that I didn’t do anything about. So I started getting together with friends intentionally. Not parties, just a dinner or a brunch. Sometimes we’d play dreidel as a drinking game.’ At Corbin’s blank expression, Alex explained, ‘Dreidel. It’s a game with a spinning top. I wanted Chanukah to feel cozy and be about togetherness. I wanted it to have that magic that Christmas has automatically. That’s why it’s important to me to have Chanukah pastries at the bakery.'” (124)