I have to admit that the title of Amy Plum’s debut was enough for me to shuffle it to the bottom of my ridiculously long to-read pile. It’s not, certainly, a title that fills the reader with hope about what’s to come, and I had some concerns that Die For Me would retrace the highly problematic relationship ground touched on by Twilight. But while Plum does give us the requisite sacrifice-oneself-for-love scene, and the love interest gets a tad too possessive for my liking, for the most part this novel stands head and shoulders above the morass of romantic martyrdom we’ve been tormented with on so regular a basis of late. Yes, it’s somewhat formulaic, but Plum’s writing and plotting is strong enough that this is a solid read all around.

Struggling to deal with their parents’ sudden death, Kate Mercier and her sister Georgia are sent to live with their grandparents in Paris. While Georgia manages her grief by hitting the town and getting involved with all sorts of questionable types, introvert Kate spends her days reading and reflecting. Until she happens across a striking young man who rather quickly diverts her attention. But though there are some fire hazard-worthy sparks between Kate and her new beau Vincent, Plum doesn’t go the who catharsis-and-redemption-through-love route. Rather, in the initial stage of the book Kate continues to grieve, but draws on the support of Vincent rather than simply losing herself in the relationship (although this does change somewhat as the book progresses).

But relationships are never a cakewalk, and Kate soon finds that pursuing her feelings for Vincent is going to be even tougher than first anticipated. Vincent, though fortunately not a sparkly vampire, is quite firmly in the undead camp. He’s what he describes as a revenant, a resurrected dead dude who spends his days rescuing others from deadly situations by putting himself, rather gorily, in their shoes. It’s all heroic enough, but admittedly it’s perhaps not the kind of hobby you’d wholeheartedly condone for your young lover (and I thought World of Warcraft was bad enough…)

Plum does introduce a whole bad revenants vs good revenants thing, but this, rather refreshingly, takes a backseat to the challenges inherent in the relationship between Kate and Vincent, although I suspect that it may be brought to the forefront of things in the sequel(s). And the time both Kate and Vincent spend addressing the issues they will have to deal with should they pursue the relationship makes for some rather moving reading indeed. While Vincent’s age “resets” each time he dies, Kate only has cosmetics and hair dye to ward off old age (a scenario that brings to mind the quixotic situation in Let the Right One In by John Ajvide Lindqvist). Kate reflects on this situation when she sees another couple in similar circumstances: a youthful woman married to a partner who is over 80 years old. Of course, the fact that Vincent, though physically 19, has close to a century’s life experience to his name adds some further complications to the whole scenario.

But it’s not only the vast differences in age and physicality that will become an issue over the years. Vincent’s regular deaths–and his belief that it is his responsibility to die so that another might live–is something that Kate rightfully finds difficult to stomach, particularly given the recent loss of her parents. I appreciate the fact that Plum allocates such substantial page space to these issues rather than simply glossing over them with the whole “love is all” idea, because, really, love is hard enough even when your partner isn’t a serially suicidal zombie guy.

But there are some issues with this book that do grate somewhat, particularly towards the end of the novel. The relationship between Kate and Vincent becomes rather creepily close (though of course churchily abstinent), with Kate deciding that spending her days near her boyfriend’s temporarily dead body is a fun thing to do (goodness, putting up with my sleeping fiance’s snores is challenging enough for me). There’s also a scene in which Vincent effectively possesses Kate, and while the author backpedals enough to point out that Kate remains somewhat in control of her faculties, I find this notion of love being all-encompassing to the degree that two people effectively become one a little disconcerting.  This possession scene is made all the more awful by the fact that Kate willingly puts her life in the balance in order to protect Vincent but, of course, is saved by the heroic (read: invasive) actions of her lover.

This notion that sacrificing one’s life in the name of “true love” is becoming horribly prevalent in YA literature, and though I suspect most teens are generally disinclined to martyr themselves so totally in the name of romance, I’m very uncomfortable with how normalised this idea is becoming. Furthermore, while Vincent is generally a pleasant enough chap, he does get his stalker on a little too regularly for my liking, and this coupled with Kate’s constant reflecting on how he is far too good for her introduces a power imbalance that I can’t help but find distasteful. And while I know the author has only 300 or so pages to work with, I just wish that the romance side of things would slow down just a tad. There’s nothing wrong with getting to know each other before declaring one’s undying love (or, given the subject matter of this book, one’s dying love?).

Finally, an area in which I struggled to maintain my suspension of disbelief was that regarding Kate’s relationship with her grandparents. Goodness, these two are so negligent that they should be under investigation by the DHS. Kate and her sister, both of whom are in their mid-teens, are warmly encouraged to head out clubbing and partying every night of the week, and scarcely an eyebrow is raised when Kate decides that a sleepover at Vincent’s is in order, or when Kate and Georgia come home severely wounded. Had the characterisation been strong enough here, I would have been able to accept this lax guardianship, but as it is it simply feels as though the grandparents are forced additions who act purely as the plot requires. The same issues apply to Jeanne, the housekeeper who is effectively a mother figure for Vincent: she’s utterly delighted to have Kate around from the get-go, and encourages the two to spend as much time together as possible despite the risk it poses to each of them.

Still, these flaws aside, Die for Me is highly readable, with zippy pacing, an intriguing take on the undead, and a beautifully rendered setting in its favour. The relationships in this novel do give me pause, but Plum does spend enough time on Kate’s romantic ambivalence that these issues are at least flagged for the reader.

Rating: (very good)

With thanks to HarperCollins Australia for the review copy

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