Monday, August 26, 2024

Nurse Laurie’s Cruise

By Adelaide Humphries, ©1956

A nurse-companion on a Caribbean cruise sounded like fun to Laurie Fielding. But to make sure she got the job, Laurie tried to disguise her blonde loveliness before she went for the interview. The first person Laurie met on the Bianca was Jeff Anderson, so much the picture of the man every girl hopes to meet on a cruise that Laurie was instantly put on guard. As they cruised the exotic tropical islands, Laurie found herself paired off with the young professor writing a book on the West Indies and her beautiful employer with the attractive Jeff—with Laurie becoming more and more attracted to Jeff. A delightful and exciting story of a young nurse in search of adventure—with both danger and love lurking for Laurie in the blue waters of the Caribbean.

GRADE: C+

BEST QUOTES:
“I always thought most nurses looked like majordomos.” 

“Nurses have a way of managing things—and people.”

“Isn’t every young, single woman who saves up enough money for a cruise on the lookout for husband material?”

“Fear flooded over her, and she wanted to turn and run. But her nurse’s training restrained her.”

REVIEW:
Nurse Laurie Fielding meets all the criteria for a nurse position that she sees advertised—except the ad specifically requests that the applicant be “preferably not too attractive.” Of course, Laurie does not fit that bill, with her “natural blonde hair, big blue eyes, creamy skin, and a figure that more often than not draws wolf whistles.” So she wears a hair net and large tortoiseshell glasses to the interview, where young widow Irma Potts, age 36, hires Laurie even though, she says, “I don’t want someone to outshine me!” Irma is a flighty, vapid heiress with no actual illnesses other than a few days of seasickness, so Laurie needn’t worry that she “wouldn’t like spending all her time shut up in a cabin with her patient, when she was longing to enjoy the sea air, the pleasures of the voyage, and the interesting sights.” In short, Laurie is hoping for what she herself calls “a vacation” while getting paid for not doing any work, and that is exactly what she gets! In fact, Irma soon advises Laurie to quit dressing down, so even the “disguise” Laurie wears to get the job is quickly abandoned—yet another dopey plot device that goes nowhere.

On board, Laurie soon meets Jeff Anderson, and “there was something about him—perhaps because he looked so much like the sort of man a girl might dream about meeting on a cruise—that made Laurie dislike him.” She’s not wrong, actually; he’s not a likable man, aggressive, always pushing himself onto her and attempting to control her. She is frequently furious with him, but alas, we know what that means—she won’t have the sense or the ability to resist him much longer.  Soon he’s kissing her on a regular basis. “If Jeff had wanted to kiss her again, she knew he would have, without asking,” and the thought gives her chills—of pleasure, unfortunately, because have I mentioned that Laurie doesn’t have much sense?

Laurie tries to make it her job to protect Irma from wolves and thieves, but it’s not going well. She suspects Jeff of being a crook in part because he refuses to have his photograph taken. “If he was the adventurer she believed him to be, his past might catch up with him,” she decides, but is unable to keep him away from Irma. And then Irma is travelling with an enormous amount of valuable jewelry and wears it all at once, so everyone is aware of it, and then she won’t keep it in the safe. Laurie has concerns about a few other suspicious people besides Jeff, starting with a man named John Harvey who uses crutches to walk and whom Irma constantly calls “pathetic” due to his disability. Laurie regularly catches Mr. Harvey in the hall outside Irma’s room, though his room is on another floor, but immediately decides not to say anything about it, deciding that it “most likely amounted to nothing.”

Eventually Laurie decides that the best thing is for her to keep the jewels in her own room, and guess what? The  next night they’re stolen, and Laurie is a suspect! Now she’s trying to figure out who stole them and making a poor job of it. When she finds Mr. Harvey arguing with a rich older woman passenger, “it was another riddle that Laurie decided she might as well forget.” The next night, after finding Mr. Harvey in the hall again, she finds the empty jewel case back in her room—and promptly tosses it overboard. Then Laurie stumbles across a crewmember who is dying from a gunshot wound. He tells her, “The jewels—she found out I knew where they—” but she mentions this to exactly no one, and the man promptly dies. Laurie has the common sense of a gnat. Eventually she does something really stupid and almost gets herself shot, too, but almost every strong male on the ship shows up at the same time and she is rescued! And discovers she’s in love, too!

This is a perfunctory story whose plot makes no sense. On one hand, Laurie cannot put two and two together and constantly sabotages herself—until she is deciding she alone can capture the criminal, who she selects essentially out of the blue, and nearly gets herself killed by someone whose presence is unexplainable, too. Her—no surprise, this—love interest is portrayed in unflattering terms at every meeting, but after hating him for most of the story, she falls for him hard, and the sudden conversion makes as little sense as pretty much everything else in the book. To cap it all off, we have the consistently insulting descriptions of Mr. Harvey’s handicap, and, on visits to numerous ports of call, all the typical colonialistic, patronizing attitudes about Caribbean citizens and countries. My White Doctor Foundation is making a dual donation following this review, to the UNCF and the Cabrillo College Accessibility Support Center (a favorite cause of disabled and most beloved VNRN author Bill Neubauer). You can avoid the particularly noxious ick factor I had to wade through by just refusing to get on board Nurse Laurie’s Cruise.

Sunday, August 4, 2024

Nurse Chadwick’s Sorrow

By Diana Douglas
(pseud. Richard Wilkes-Hunter), ©1967
 

Ruth Chadwick would never forgive Dr. Barry Kade for a night of insanity that changed her life. She would never return to Dr. Graham Chadwick, her husband. The only thing that still tied her to these two men was a bond of pain and hatred. And now Tracey Norton was involved. Tracey … pretty, talented, very attractive to a man like Dr. Kade. Unable to stop her, Ruth saw Tracey being caught in her own hidden past—in the frightening truth that lay behind Nurse Chadwick’s sorrow.

GRADE: C

BEST QUOTES:
“Frigid type? No, you’re too pretty.”

“A man could be made to forget anything else when the girl he loved kissed him.”

“By Friday she had almost resolved to forget all about Barry Kade and dedicate herself to a lifetime of nursing.”

REVIEW:
Author Richard Wilkes-Hunter is not an author I enjoy. His books are generally sexist, stupid and dull, usually landing C-minus grades. So here we have a little treat—not the cover, of course, which is pretty lame—RWH has given us a book that is only irritating, without the usual over-the-top sexism! Curiously, Nurse Chadwick of the title is only a peripheral character. The book centers on Tracey Norton, who has just been hired as a scrub nurse at Pasadena General. From her very first surgery, when she meets Dr. Barry Kade’s large gray eyes beneath very black brows and long, curling lashes, she has to force herself to concentrate on the operation rather than the handsome young assistant surgeon.

Ruth Chadwick is the OR charge nurse, “still attractive, though she must be 30 or more,” thank you very much, Richard. She is also a strict disciplinarian who hates Dr. Kade with a burning passion, for some mysterious reason, so there will be a lot of floundering around in the plot until the secret is finally revealed two-thirds of the way through the book. In the interim Tracey has coffee with Barry Kade and then a few very pleasant dates, though she risks the ire of Ruth Chadwick in doing so. That risk is made especially problematic since Ruth has invited Tracey to take a room in her apartment. Improbably, Tracey accepts, and then, in the name of being honest, is fairly consistently rude and insulting to Ruth.

In close quarters, Tracey is able to spot the mysteries in Ruth’s life. Ruth acknowledges she has a 3-year-old son named David who obviously does not live with her. Ruth goes away every weekend to some undisclosed location, and is driven home by a man in sports clothes in an open convertible—and then cries herself to sleep in her bedroom. “A woman with a child to live for had no right to abandon herself to such grief,” thinks Tracey with great wisdom and kindness.

One afternoon, after a very tense surgery, Ruth takes it as a mild criticism when Tracey says she is going to the cafeteria for coffee—Ruth usually asks one of the student nurses to make the coffee but had instead sent the student to do more important chores—and Tracey “stared defiantly” and snaps, “I wish you would take that chip off your shoulder, Ruth. Why don’t you save that charge-nurse jazz for the operating room? Outside working hours it neither becomes you nor impresses me!” This sort of hyper-aggressive, snarky remark is, unfortunately, characteristic of many of Tracey’s comments to Ruth, and peculiarly, Ruth responds like a puppy who has been smacked with a rolled-up newspaper and becomes thoughtful, then sad, whimpering, “Am I as bad as that?” and asking if they can still be friends. I liked Ruth better when she was snapping, “Walters! A towel for Dr. Russell!”

Now, as Tracey’s mean-girl ways inexplicably cause Ruth to open up more, we get numerous hints about Ruth’s past. Barry tells her that he has been “nearly four years saving for something that’s very important to me,” and that Ruth’s dislike of him goes back four years. Calculating Tracey thinks, “Nearly four years ago. That would be before Ruth’s child was born.” Ruth’s husband doesn’t help when he when he waylays Tracey as she is walking home from work, creepily offering her a ride with the friendly comment, “I promise not to attempt your seduction.” Tracey immediately volunteers that Ruth cries at night and that she knows he drives her home on Sundays, but when he tells her fiercely that he loves Ruth and wants to make the marriage work, Tracey answers, “It’s really not any of my business. I neither peep nor listen. Nor do I pry into other people’s lives!” It’s a remarkable, completely obvious lie. So when Graham asks her to break her date with Barry and go spy on Ruth and David at a remote beach, of course she does, though Barry turns out to be insecure and all but stops speaking to her. What Tracey finds naturally causes everything to turn out perfectly for everyone, even for her, the one who deserves it least. If the Big Secret everyone is keeping is actually interesting, it’s just way too complicated to be resolved by Tracey showing up at the beach and yelling at Ruth some more, then sending David for  “cutting-edge” surgery (not used today) that is explained in such excruciating detail you might nod off.

Some male writers can pull off nurse novels. Bill Neubauer and Jean Francis Webb, for example, are respectful, gentle authors who can tell a story with real feeling. Others, however, such as Mr. Wilkes-Hunter (and William Daniel Ross, to name another), clearly view women as objects, and not infrequently demonstrate no understanding for how women act or speak, instead making them bros with perky breasts. This is Tracey Norton in a nutshell, who may be the heroine of this book, but she is no hero—neither admirable, charitable or even likeable. “You have the old girl eating out of your hand,” says a fellow nurse to Tracey, as if dominating Ruth is the only option. It’s not, and if Ruth is happy at the end of the book, I still felt sorry about how badly she’d been treated. So unless you enjoy spending time with mean people like Tracey Norton, you’d do a lot better to look for a book by Bill Neubauer.