Review – The Merchant’s Daughter

Title: The Merchant’s Daughter
Author: Melanie Dickerson
Rating: 4/5
Retelling of: Beauty and the Beast
The Twist: Set like a historical fiction in medieval England, there’s a distinct lack of magic involved, so this is a more realistic retelling of Beauty and the Beast.

Melanie Dickerson is a wonderful author who’s written several fairy tale retellings set in her fictional towns in England and Germany. Each book has a Christian spin on them, often teaching morals as well as Christian lessons, generally without getting preachy (you might find a rare trouble spot or two occasionally, but not often). Which I find is fairly (and sadly) uncommon in the realm of Christian fiction.

The Merchant’s Daughter is actually her second book, but because it’s set in her English setting, which she uses a little more rarely, I chose to review it before her first, The Healer’s Apprentice.

As an aside, Melanie Dickerson has been a huge influence on me and my writing, as well as my journey as an author. I got to email her once about writing advice and it was such a blessing. She also conveniently lives in the same state as me so theoretically we can meet for coffee!

Theoretically, of course, I’m sure she’s a very busy woman. Still it’s kind of cool to live in the same state as a living author you look up to.

Anyways back to The Merchant’s Daughter. This story is a retelling of Beauty and the Beast in a similar framework as a historical fiction. So no magic. And because Dickerson also writes predominantly Christian fiction, that angle is prevalent as well, with all or most of her characters believing in God and praying to him for guidance or when times get tough. While it’s not my favorite retelling out of her series (she’s got a dozen out right now with one more on the way, it’s hard to pick a favorite!), I do love the spins she put on the story. It’s just the sort of book you want to curl up with for a little pick me up.

The General Overview

Set in medieval England, in the fictional village of Glynval, a young merchant’s daughter named Annabel Chapman struggles to find a place among people who look down their noses at her. Her father was wealthy, but lost his ships and wealth, and died of an illness that swept through the village. Since then her family has continued to live as though they were still wealthy, refusing to work the fields like everyone else.

This comes back to bite them when a new lord, one who doesn’t accept bribes or excuses, comes to the village. Lord Ranulf le Wyse is said to be perfectly beastly — angry, ill-mannered, with scars and one eye and a mangled hand. He sounds frightening, and our first glimpses of him live up to that image.

With a new lord in town, Annabel’s family must pay up what they owe after three years of shirking work, or send one of the three children to work as an indentured servant to the new lord. Knowing her selfish and lazy brothers won’t do it, Annabel leaves in secret to work for the lord.

What follows is a cautious romance between a man who no longer believes women are any better than conniving seductresses, or that he could be loved should a woman prove to be anything different, and a young woman whose deepest wish is to read the Holy Bible for herself and enter into a life of contemplation and prayer as a nun. These desires and perceptions cause a fair bit of struggle for the couple, even as their understanding of each other softens and improves over time.

The story is told, intermittently, from both sides. We get a glimpse of Ranulf’s inner turmoil as he deals with the betrayal of a wife who never loved him, and who was cruel to him, and his constant self-imagining as a man too ugly, beastly, and unlovable to ever marry again.

Meanwhile from Annabel’s side, we see the story through the eyes of a young woman who tries to see beyond his gruff exterior to the good and generous lord beneath, who must also field too much attention, both good and bad, from the men around her. Her biggest struggle is that of reconciling her desires to become a nun, to avoid men altogether and get to read the Holy Bible, with her budding feelings toward Lord Ranulf, which she sees as sinful and wrong.

They overcome several other obstacles on the way. More than a few dramatic problems arise for the village of Glynval, and each embitters the village toward Lord Ranulf, while only bringing him and Annabel closer.

It’s a charming little story, and a big event calls to the stage an entire medieval inquest to solve a crime, which adds real tension to the story. But though these seemingly dark themes are in play, Dickerson’s writing remains fluid and gentle, painting the picture for us in loving brushstrokes without dulling the struggles or dangers for her characters.

I also happen to love the subtle weaving-in of the idea of beauty as a curse. Annabel thinks at one point if she were only a little uglier, she wouldn’t receive all this unwanted attention. Nearer the same moment, Ranulf reflects that beauty often just hides a terrible interior, and that looks are deceiving. A lot of Beauty and the Beast retellings walk in the same well-worn tracks that yes, looks are deceiving, but only from a “this ugly man has a charming interior!” No one really thinks about the dangers of being beautiful, or that beauty doesn’t equal goodness.

The Original Story Factor

Because this story is set in a more realistic world, the beast character, Lord Ranulf, isn’t actually a giant beastly creature, nor is he magically cursed. He is a gruff, ill-tempered man in the beginning, whose beastly appearance is simply the result of scars and past injuries from a heroic act in his youth. As such we don’t get any particular transformation from beast to man, though there is a charming scene where, after confessing their love to one another, effectively “breaking the spell,” Annabel shaves his beard which hides his scars. Almost miraculously, the scars on his face have paled and nearly disappeared.

The rest of the story follows the Disney adaptation of Beauty and the Beast more than any particular original fairy tale. Annabel has siblings, like in the original tale, although they’re two brothers rather than two sisters (or two sisters and three brothers like in one version). But the two brothers are nearly as terrible as the two sisters in the Beaumont version.

The father isn’t present in this story, having died three years prior to the beginning of the tale, but he does still hold the position of wealthy merchant who lost his fortune, much like in the originals. The mother is still alive, but there’s no problem of her running into Lord Ranulf and stealing from him. Instead the village court decides that she and her family must be punished for shirking work, and thus send one of the children to work as an indentured servant to Lord Ranulf. Annabel, much like the original heroine, volunteers.

The rest of the story is original, up to the point where the village, worked up into thinking that Lord Ranulf is a curse on them, goes to attack him. This is definitely more of a Disney inspiration than anything from the original tales, but it’s done well enough that I didn’t mind. Disney is a major influence on a lot of things. It’s hard not to be inspired by them.

The Criticism

Obviously I think highly of Dickerson and her writing, and so criticism comes hesitantly to me in regards to her books. But nothing is perfect, otherwise it would probably be boring.

The Merchant’s Daughter is, as I said, not my favorite in her series, and the reason is mostly that it’s…a little dull in places. And out of all her books in her fairy tale series, this one does come across as the most preachy at times. Lord Ranulf sometimes actually preaches to Annabel when she reads to him from the Bible.

Now, a caveat. I am a Christian and I do appreciate good Christian fiction. There were moments where these scenes of religious revelation or subtle preaching did come as a comfort and an inspiration. But I can also see how these moments might seem a little sappy for others. Christian fiction is a finicky thing to work with.

Regardless, it was only a brief moment or two for me. But I did notice it.

Really my only other criticism is the climax of the book, with the village turning against Lord Ranulf and Annabel rushing to save him. I’m a girl who likes action, and the climax was just a little lacking in that area. And then, immediately following the resolution of the angry mob, the following scenes of reunion and confessions of love felt strangely out of place. As though it was a little too soon, a sort of “it’s not the time for this!” situation. I mean…Lord Ranulf was almost mob-murdered a few minutes before. Sort of.

It’s not my favorite literary climax, that’s all.

Final Thoughts

Even though I say it’s not my favorite in her series, The Merchant’s Daughter is still a book dear to my heart, in a series even dearer. It’s a nice, cozy book to read at leisure, to sink into for a brief escape from the world. I appreciate the familiarity of the tale, as well as its Christian spin. And I really do appreciate that it’s a clean romance. Sometimes all the high pressure, desperate, graphic romance can be a little much for me. Sometimes you just gotta go back to the fluff, you know?

All in all, It’s an inspiring and uplifting retelling of Beauty and the Beast that I’ll keep coming back to whenever I need a bit of charm added back to my life.

But the fun doesn’t stop there for Melanie Dickerson’s books. Her other tales move into the charming German village of Hagenheim — and that’s where much of the fun and excitement begins! Keep an eye out for future reviews of her books!