Rowling, J.K.: (06) Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince (re-read)

Over the weekend, I finished my pre-book-7 re-read with Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, or, as I found myself thinking of it, Harry Potter and the Belated Infodump. It looks a little worse on a re-read, now that I’m past the relief that it’s not another Order of the Phoenix, and I continue to have concerns about whether the conclusion will be satisfying.

This principally stems from my feeling that the books are weakest when it comes to the mythic, and I can’t see how the ending can be other than mythic. Since the first book, there’s been a theme about the power of love, which could in theory work, but here, well, I can’t even write the phrase without rolling my eyes. There was no improvement on that front in this book—but I did find a small ray of hope in the direction taken with regard to fate and prophecy and predestination.

Here I’m obligated to note that I’m still worried that the broad critiques of Wizarding society will get lost in the plot to come. The opening of this book was interesting in that regard, as the first return to an omniscient viewpoint since book one. (Yes, there’s the fourth book’s opening, but that gets fudged as a dream. (Rowling’s never been very concerned about strict POV limitations—consider the Pensieve scenes.)) Unfortunately, the return to school muffles the urgency in that wider view, a tension that’s been recurring throughout the series, and one of the reasons that I was really pleased by the ending of this book.

(The opening of this book is also interesting for chapter 2, the wisdom of which seems likely to be debated hotly for years.)

But this made me realize, on this re-read, just how much plot is to come in the last book, even by the narrowest expectations. I’ve criticized prior books for dragging the plot out to fit the school year. This time I’m worried about the reverse, that there’ll be too much to fit easily and things will be slighted. (A book that’s nothing more than Harry Potter and the Quest for the Plot Tokens [*] will not satisfy.) Especially since this book shows signs of doing just that: there are a couple of matters that should have continued to be problems, but are very clumsily dropped—so clumsily, in fact, that I’m now more inclined to believe that some things have been set up from the start, because of the contrast. And I particularly worry about plot holes in quick-wrap-this-up situations.

(One that I’m oddly afraid of is that Rowling can’t count. For very spoilery reasons why, see this old LJ post.)

Two other notes: the “Half-Blood Prince” subplot in this book still feels kind of forced, for all that I can infer a couple of reasons for it to be there. And everything adolescently-hormonal in this book is awful, and I say that as someone who was not bothered by the portrayal of Harry and Cho.

On the whole, as I said two years ago, I am more excited about the series than I had been after this book and the possibilities its ending opens up. The re-read has helped me get a better handle on my hopes, expectations, and fears. While I don’t have it in me to get too emotionally invested after Stephen King ripped out my heart and stomped on it, I am looking forward to the last book.

[*] I find myself wanting to do parody titles for all the books, now, but nothing’s leaping to mind for the first three. The others are:

4. Harry Potter and the Idiot Plot
5. Harry Potter and the TEENAGE ANGST
6. Harry Potter and the Belated Infodump
7. Harry Potter and the Quest for the Plot Tokens

Suggestions?

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2007 Hugo Award Nominees: Novella

In the Hugo Nominees for Best Novella, I find myself voting for the same author, but this time not by default. As before, my tentative ranking and one-line comments are below, with spoilery commentary behind the cut.

  1. Robert Reed, “A Billion Eves” (online at Asimov’s): a good concept well-executed.
  2. Robert Charles Wilson, “Julian: A Christmas Story” (online as 500KB PDF): a good concept for a prologue well-executed.
  3. William Shunn, “Inclination” (online at Asimov’s): neither this nor the next were surprising, but this one is slightly better in the ancillary details.
  4. Paul Melko, “The Walls of the Universe” (online at Asimov’s): see above.
  5. Michael Swanwick, “Lord Weary’s Empire” (online at Asimov’s): an evocative beginning, an incomprehensible middle, and a terrible end.

Continue reading “2007 Hugo Award Nominees: Novella”

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Bull, Emma: Territory

I see that Emma Bull’s first solo novel in years, Territory, is out. I read an ARC months ago, the kind gift of friends. However, for reasons that will become clear shortly, I wanted to re-read it before writing it up, and I don’t have time now. Normally I’d just wait, but there’s a very important thing people need to know about Territory before they read it. So, as a public service, here it is:

There will be a sequel.

I read the book without knowing that, and I assure you that it was a deeply peculiar experience. Don’t have that happen to you! It’s a very good book and it would be a bad distraction to get to the end and say, “What, is that it?” It’s not.

Territory is a secret history of Tombstone, Arizona, starting in 1881. There’s the Earps and Doc Holliday and John Ringo and Ike Clanton, but there’s also Mildred Benjamin, a widow who works for a newspaper, and Jesse Fox, who keeps being pushed to acknowledge his magic by his friend Chow Lung, a physician from China. Much happens (she says, in the airy manner of someone who read the book months ago), and an arc is concluded satisfactorily without cliffhangers. But, as I said, a sequel is forthcoming.

If you like Emma Bull’s prior books, I see no reason why you shouldn’t like this one. And if you’re interested in Tombstone and don’t object to secret histories, it’s certainly worth a look. I only wish I had time to re-read it now to give it the more thorough and detailed review it deserves.

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Rowling, J.K.: (05) Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (re-read)

Alas, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix is not any more enjoyable on a re-read than it was the first time around. And I have to disagree with my prior self: the pre-Hogwarts section is objectively long but doesn’t feel nearly as slow as the Hogwarts section proper, probably because it’s more varied and eventful. (There is also less CAPSLOCK HARRY than I remembered, but what there is, is still too much.)

I’m not sure that I fully realized that this book runs on an idiot plot on a different level than the prior one, but it made me want to shake all the characters silly—even sillier—until they agreed to talk to each other, already! I can’t nitpick any closer than that, because I was skimming as I’d given myself permission to.

Well, it’s done, and now I’ve only one left before my memory-refreshing project is complete.

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Delacroix, Claire, Lynn Kurland, Sharon Shinn, and Sarah Monette: The Queen in Winter

The Queen in Winter is a collection of four novellas of romantic fantasy with winter themes. I read it as a lighter part of my Worldcon homework, because Sarah Monette has a story in it.

To take the stories in order:

“A Whisper of Spring,” by Lynn Kurland, is a generic and uninteresting tale of love at first sight between a mage and an elf princess.

Sharon Shinn’s “When Winter Comes” was, unexpectedly, the story I liked best. I’d read Shinn’s first four or five novels, but had fallen out of the habit. This has a great voice and a nice romance that didn’t strain my disbelief or annoy me.

People always say they’re willing to die for the ones they love, as if nothing else they could do would be so hard. But it is harder to keep living for someone else, doing everything in your power to keep that person safe and breathing. I know. All these past weeks I have been living for my sister and her son, battling everyone else in the world, or so it seems, to keep Annie and Kinnon alive. I have defied my father, broken my mother’s heart, traveled in secret, gone without sleep, gone without food, and hidden from violent strangers trying to kill all of us because of the magic in Kinnon’s veins.

Most days it would be easier to be dead.

This is in the same world as her series starting with Mystic and Rider, the first couple paperbacks of which I have now ordered for vacation reading, along with her YA series which I’ve also heard good things of.

Claire Delacroix’s “The Kiss of the Snow Queen” is either too weird or not weird enough. A seer in the kingdom of Burgundy fears a forced marriage, so she casts a spell seeking aid. A stranger answers it and then promptly gets into serious trouble—at which point a disembodied voice starts talking to the seer in ostentatiously-modern slang.

Things get weirder from there, and for a while it almost looked like it could be interesting, but at the end it all collapses. And equating “purity” with “sexual inexperience” is guaranteed to piss me off.

Finally, “A Gift of Wings,” by Sarah Monette, the story I bought this collection for. This reminded me of Dorothy Sayers’ comment at the beginning of Busman’s Honeymoon that a detective story might seen, by the characters, to be an irritating intrusion on their love story. I don’t know if the characters would put it that way, but that’s not far from how I felt. The love story is really very well done, with the strength (if not, inevitably, the depth) of characterization I expect after Mélusine and The Virtu. The murder mystery is almost incidental, lacking the resonance with the love story that would integrate the two parts of the story together. It didn’t irritate, but it did niggle a little, as a missed opportunity.

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Flynn, Michael: Eifelheim

I am not having great luck with my Worldcon homework, really. Michael Flynn’s Hugo-nominated novel Eifelheim ended up being a reasonable enough read, but nothing I’m really excited to have put off reading more-anticipated books for.

The premise: in 1348, aliens crash near a remote German village, later known as Eifelheim. In the present day, a historian is trying to figure out why Eifelheim was never re-settled after the Black Death. He lives with a theoretical physicist who is pondering the nature of time and space, and their work ends up unexpectedly (to them; the reader saw it coming from the start) intersecting.

Let me get an extrinsic but nevertheless significant factor out of the way first:

The type in this book is really very small. It is amazing how uninviting this made the book feel.

The book is notably slow to start; it’s 60 pages before the aliens appear, and almost 150 before something that felt like a plot developed. Until then, I kept being reminded of that old comment that “The king died and then the queen died” is a story, while “The king died and then the queen died of grief” is a plot. For a while, a lot of things happened one after another, but not many happened because of something else.

It also has some intensely irritating elements that are particularly prominent early on. The male character in the present-day sections drops into other languages seemingly at random, which annoyed me so much that after two pages, I asked Chad whether this ever improved. He said it didn’t, but that the character wasn’t around very much, both of which are true. Another language irritation was described by Chad in his review, the way the main medieval character keeps coming up with modern-day names for things:

“They placed devices about the village to listen to our speech. They showed me one. It was no bigger than my thumb and looked like an insect, for which reason I call them ‘bugs.'”

I was surprised how intrusive I found this, because it hadn’t sounded that bad in Chad’s review. (Also, Germany is not in the tropics. I would be very surprised if any bugs, let alone the ones that would come to mind as representative of the class, were the size of a man’s thumb.)

Another intrusive thing is the omniscient narrator of the present-day sections. Judging by the prologue, I believe I am supposed to understand this narrator to be a character introduced late in the book; but why the character knows all this, and why the author chose to have the present-day sections told this way, I cannot fathom. Here, have a two-fer, the narrator and the random languages:

And yet, [the physicist] sensed a pattern lurking beneath the chaos and she stalked it as a cat might—in stealthy half-steps and never quite straightforward. Perhaps it lacked only the right beholding to fall into beauty. Consider Quasimodo, or Beauty’s Beast.

Damn!

An alien voice intruded into her world. She heard Tom smack his PC terminal and she screwed her eyes shut, trying not to listen. Almost, she could see it clear. The equations hinted at multiple rotation groups connected by a meta-algebra. But . . .

Durák! Bünözö! Jáki!

 . . . But the world shattered into a kaleidoscope, and for a moment she sat overwhelmed by a sense of infinite loss. She threw her pen at the coffee table, where it clattered against white bone-china teacups. Evidently God did not intend for her to solve the geometry of Janatpour space quite yet. She glared at Tom, who muttered over his keyboard.

There is something true about Sharon Nagy in that one half-missed detail: that she uses a pen and not a pencil. It betokens a sort of hubris.

(Ellipses in original.)

As Chad also noted, there is a lot of people explaining stuff to each other in this book. I was able to blissfully glaze over during the present-day physics, secure in his assurance that it was gibberish, but it’s there in the medieval-era sections too. And while it’s entirely natural in a first-contact story, there’s still really a lot of it. Your enjoyment of such things may vary. Me, the cumulative effect does edge towards “I’ve suffered for my research and so will you.”

That all said, I was eventually more moved than I’d expected, considering that the first half or so didn’t much engage me, and that the general nature of the ending is known from the start. I might have been more so in other hands, but I’ll still consider this to outweigh the slow start and minor irritations. Anyone particularly interested in medieval thought, first contact, or the history of science might give it a try.

The full text of the book is available as a 1.8 MB PDF via the author’s agent, which is a nice thought even if PDF is a lousy way to read on-screen.

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2007 Hugo Award Nominees: Short Story

More Worldcon homework, this time the Hugo nominees for best short story. Like Chad (some spoilers), I was pretty unimpressed. My tentative ranking, with one-line comments, follows; more detailed discussion, with inevitable spoilers, is behind the cut. (This is only tentative, as we’re not voting for almost a month and I may well revisit the stories; so feel free to comment and perhaps you’ll convince me.)

  1. Robert Reed, “Eight Episodes” (online at Asimov’s): peculiar but interesting, and the winner by default.
  2. Bruce McAllister, “Kin” (online at Asimov’s): I like the understated portrayal of the principal relationship.
  3. Tim Pratt, “Impossible Dreams” (online at Asimov’s): utterly shameless wish-fulfillment which would have benefited from some shame.
  4. Neil Gaiman, “How to Talk to Girls at Parties” (online at the author’s site): deeply annoying narrator.
  5. Benjamin Rosenbaum, “The House Beyond Your Sky” (online at Strange Horizons): it took me a great deal of effort to understand what was going on, and then I wished I hadn’t bothered.

Continue reading “2007 Hugo Award Nominees: Short Story”

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Stross, Charles: Glasshouse

I wouldn’t have read Charles Stross’s Glasshouse if it hadn’t been nominated for a Hugo this year, as Singularity Sky didn’t really work for me and the premise of this one sounded painful. Somewhat like Singularity Sky, the premise wasn’t a problem in the way I thought, but I didn’t like the book for other reasons.

Glasshouse is set several hundred years in the future. Society is recovering from the censorship wars, in which someone or someones released worms to delete—something—from knowledge. (No-one remembers what, now.) Like society, the protagonist is also recovering from memory trouble: according to a letter he left himself, he extensively wiped his memory to escape some very bad enemies. Whom he, yes, no longer remembers.

To get even further away from these reported enemies, he agrees to join a sealed-off experiment, described by a passing infodumper as:

” [ . . . ] a complete polity—the briefing says there are over a hundred million cubic meters of accommodation space and a complete shortjump network inside. It’s not totally uncivilized, like a raw planetary biome or anything. There are a couple of catches, though. There are no free assemblers, you can’t simply request any structure you want. If you need food or clothing or tools or whatever, you’re supposed to use these special restricted fabricators that’ll only give you what you’re entitled to within the experiment. They run a money system and provide work, so you have to work and pay for what you consume; it’s intended to emulate a pre-Acceleration scarcity economy. Not too scarce, of course—they don’t want people starving. The other catch is, well, they assign you a new orthohuman body and a history to play-act with. During the experiment, you’re stuck in your assigned role. No netlink, no backups, no editing—if you hurt yourself, you have to wait for your body to repair itself. I mean, they didn’t have A-gates back before the Acceleration, did they? Billions of people lived there, it can’t be that bad, you just have to be prudent and take care not to mutilate yourself.”

“But what’s the experiment about?” I repeat. There’s something missing; I can’t quite put my finger on it . . .

“Well, it’s supposed to represent a dark ages society,” Linn explains. “We just live in it and follow the rules, and they watch us. Then it ends, and we leave. What more do you need?”

“What are the rules?” asks Kay.

“How should I know? [ . . . ] They’re just trying to reinvent a microcosm of the polymorphic society that’s ancestral to our own. A lot of our history comes out of the dark ages—it was when the Acceleration took hold—but we know so little about it. Maybe they think trying to understand how dark ages society worked will explain how we got where we are? Or something else. Something to do with the origins of the cognitive dictatorships and the early colonies.”

“But the rules—”

“They’re discretionary,” says Vhora. “To prod the subjects toward behaving in character, they get points for behaving in ways in keeping with what we know about dark ages society, and they lose points for behaving wildly out of character. Points are convertible into extra bonus money when the experiment ends. That’s all.”

(Unbracketed ellipsis in original.)

I thought, from a premise like this, that the book was going to be satire, and I’m allergic to satire. Whatever it was intended to be, I don’t think it works as satire, because life inside the experiment turns out to be all too easily and obviously bad, in an very low-hanging fruit manner. (Yup. 1950s-style gender roles suck. Next?)

What is a problem with the premise, is discernable from that excerpt. In a post-scarcity society, why would anyone enter “a dark ages panopticon theme hotel” (as the protagonist thinks, after doing just that!) for money?

(I will note that I didn’t realize this until I was done, because the book does have good pacing that pulled me along. But this was one of those works where once I started thinking about it, the more problems I found, and the less I liked it. More on this anon.)

What most of this ends up feeling like, to me, is that things happen because The Author Said So. Not just why anyone not-Robin would join; I suspect that the basic implementation of the experiment, and thus the whole story, is an idiot plot. And the actions of the characters inside the experiment, well, L. Timmel Duchamp writes thoughtfully and at length about the resulting gender and class problems in a Strange Horizons review (somewhat spoilery). I noted these issues when reading, but I’m frustrated for a different reason: I’d like to analyze it all seriously, but I just can’t bring myself to, because it feels like there’s nothing there. My answer to “what does it mean that the characters are acting like this” is, “it means that The Author Said So in order to make this set of events happen,” and that’s just not very interesting. Or satisfying.

(If pressed, I would guess that the book is working from the premise that gender is purely a social construct, but that there are serious problems in the execution, as identified by Duchamp.)

But in my attempt to be a responsible reviewer and say up front what the book’s about, I’ve actually come at this backwards. As I said, the book does have strong pacing, and while I wasn’t thoroughly sucked in by Robin’s narration, I did want to find out why Robin’s memory was wiped and what was going on with the experiment. So I read, not enjoying the more claustrophobic paranoid Stanford Prison Experiment parts, but I had interest and momentum and was enjoying it more than I’d expected.

Until I hit the brick wall that was the ending.

All I can say without spoilers is that I thought it a poor thing to do to the reader, and possibly to the character involved as well; I’d be more sure if I thought I understood why the character acted that way. I don’t, but when I was trying, I started thinking about other things . . . and here I am, having realized that I really didn’t like this book. (I know, you’re all shocked.)

(Very big ROT-13 spoilers (though a bit oblique): qrne puneyrf fgebff, lbh ner ab thl tnievry xnl. naq rira ur unf n uneq gvzr chyyvat gung gevpx bss.)

Other people might have a problem with the scope of the ending, which I understand though don’t share, as I think it fits thematically. Even aside from the brick wall, though, I did find the ending a bit flat and rushed, because of the limitations of point-of-view (which are oddly artificial, here, now that I think about it).

If memory, identity, and the construction and recognition thereof are your failsafe interests, by all means read this. And lots of other people think highly of it, and you may well find your tastes are closer to theirs than mine. *waves YMMV flag* (If you try it, stick it out past the first couple of chapters, which I found hard going. Either the density of information drops thereafter, or I got used to it.) But I think everyone would be happier if I didn’t read any more of Stross’s books from now on, even if they’re nominated for awards.

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Sanderson, Brandon: Elantris

One of the most useful things I’ve learned from the Internet is the phrase Your Mileage May Vary, usually seen as the abbreviation YMMV, which roughly means “tastes differ.” For instance: I thought Brandon Sanderson’s Elantris was pretty “enhh,” but YMMV.

Elantris is a single-volume fantasy, Sanderson’s first. The city of the title used to be called the city of the gods, inhabited by ordinary people transformed at random into white-haired, silver-skinned near-immortals capable of powerful magics. And then it suddenly all went wrong: the transformation apparently turned those chosen into the walking dead, the city crumbled to ruins, and the magic stopped working.

The society around Elantris collapsed and re-formed into a monarchy, but ten years on, when the book starts, the new government’s stability is threatened by two events: the crown prince is transformed and thrown into Elantris, and a high-ranking priest from a powerful religious empire arrives, intending to convert the country before the empire’s soldiers destroy it. The prince and the priest are two of the point-of-view characters; the third is the prince’s fiancée, a politically-skilled princess from another country who takes an interest in, well, everything. As her companion asks her about halfway through the book, when she raises another issue,

“My lady, don’t you think you might be overextending yourself? You’ve decided to confront the [priest], liberate the court women from masculine oppression, save Arelon’s economy, and feed Elantris.”

That leads into my principal YMMV reaction to this book, the characters. It’s possible that I did the book a bit of a disservice, reading it right after the vivid narrative voices of Mélusine and The Virtu. Elantris is told in the third person, and I found something about the prose distancing—though it could be a chicken-and-egg thing, the characters and the prose. At any rate, the principal characters did not come alive for me, which left me less than invested in the story. If I’d cared more about the characters—well, for one thing, I probably wouldn’t have noticed the quote above, let alone rolled my eyes at it (the prince was, I thought, a bit too good to be true as well). The priest interested me least, so while I recognized his increased complexities, they came too late in the book to affect me. (The priest was also particularly a victim of the sagging middle that Chad noted; the last fifty pages contain more revelations and reversals for him than I can shake a stick at, which come so quickly that I felt they lost their impact.)

I did like the magic system, and what the prince finds in Elantris and how he responds, but those aren’t enough to carry me through a story. Again, I invoke YMMV, especially in light of the many and glowing blurbs that adorn the paperback.

I read this as part of my Worldcon homework, as Sanderson is nominated for the Campbell Award. I previously requested Sanderson’s next book, Mistborn, from the library, but I’m not sure now whether I will read it, especially since I still have four novels and fourteen pieces of short fiction to read for the Hugos. Anyone else read these?

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Monette, Sarah: (01-02) Mélusine, The Virtu

Sarah Monette’s Mélusine and The Virtu are not without flaws, but are so vivid and engrossing that I didn’t notice until after I’d finished reading—and even then, they took up a lot of space in my mind, as happens only with works that really resonate for me. They are not for everyone, but I highly recommend them to those not dissuaded by the description below.

The first thing that needs describing about these books, and I would argue the most important thing, is their narrative voices. They’re told from two alternating first-person points of view, and if you don’t like at least one of them, I’d bet money you won’t like the books. I was irrevocably caught by Mélusine‘s prologue, which is told by Mildmay, a member of Mélusine’s Lower City. Since the narrative voices are so central, and since I thought the prologue was really cool, I’m going to indulge myself by quoting it in full (it’s only two pages):

This is the worst story I know about hocuses. And it’s true.

Four Great Septads ago, back in the reign of Claudius Cordelius, there was a hocus named Porphyria Levant. The hocuses back then had this thing they could do, called the binding-by-forms, the obligation d’âme. It happened between a hocus and an annemer, an ordinary person, and it was like an oath of loyalty, only a septad times more. The hocus promised to protect the annemer from everything, including kings and other hocuses and basically anybody else who had an interest. The annemer promised to be the hocus’s servant and do what they said and no backchat, neither. And they renounced their family and all their other connections, so it was like the only thing in the world that mattered to them was the hocus. And then there was a spell to stick it in place and make sure, you know, that nobody tried to back out after it was too late.

You can see the problem, right? Most half-bright folks can. But some hocuses were so powerful and so nasty that I guess it seemed like it was better to go ahead and do the obligation d’âme with a hocus you sort of trusted than to go wandering around waiting for a different hocus to get the drop on you.

So there was Porphyria Levant. And there was Silas Altamont. Silas Altamont was annemer, a guy who’d been the favorite of Lord Creon Malvinius, and then when Lord Creon got married, Silas Altamont was out on his ear, and scared shitless of Lord Creon’s wife, who was way better connected than him, and was rumored to have three or four hocuses on her string to boot. And she was poison-green with jealousy, because she loved Lord Creon like a mad thing, and everybody knew he didn’t give a rat’s ass about her. So Silas Altamont goes to Porphyria Levant—who was powerful enough to protect him from Lisette Malvinia, no matter who she had running her errands—and begs Porphyria Levant to do the obligation d’âme. And Porphyria Levant smiles and says okay.

Now, the thing about the binding-by-forms, the way my friend Zephyr explained it to me, is that it lets the hocus make you do what they want. Except for kill yourself. They can’t make you do that. But what Porphyria Levant tells Silas Altamont to do is fuck her. I’ve heard it different ways. Some people say Silas Altamont was beautiful as daylight, and Porphyria Levant had been hot for him for indictions. Some say Porphyria Levant didn’t know he was molly, thought he was janus and wouldn’t mind. And some say—and I got to admit, this is what I think—that she knew he was molly and that was why she did it. There are other stories about Porphyria Levant, and it’s the kind of thing she would do.

Anyway, there’s Silas Altamont. He’s molly, and he’s still in love with Creon Malvinius, but he has to do what the obligation d’âme says, and it says, You got to fuck Porphyria Levant and make her happy. And after a while he goes to her and says, “I can’t stand this no more, please, let me stop or I’m going to go out and slit my wrists.”

And Porphyria Levant says, “Silas,” and smiles her little smile, “I forbid you to kill yourself.”

That’s what hocuses are like, and that’s why, if you live in the Lower City of Mélusine, you keep one eye on the Mirador all the time, same way you would with a swamp adder. It’s just common sense.

If you don’t like that, probably you don’t need to bother with the rest of this review, because of the nature of the other point of view. Felix Harrowgate is a wizard of the Mirador and therefore an aristocrat of Mélusine, but more importantly for purposes of his narration, is (a) an arrogant bastard, and (b) sent into a tailspin on his third page and driven crazy by the end of the chapter. The opening first left me wondering why he reacted so strongly there on page three, and then feeling bad for him, but in a fairly abstract way, because I hadn’t had time to build up much of a connection. [*] And then when he’s not mad, he’s an arrogant bastard. All this makes his viewpoint rather less likely to draw the reader in. (I seem to have a higher tolerance for first-person bastards than many, somewhat to my surprise.)

[*] I used Felix as a jumping-off point for a virtual con panel on “Risky Narrative Strategies” (SPOILERS in comments to that post).

Felix is driven crazy when his former master uses him to break the Virtu, a magical artifact that holds the wizards of the Mirador together and makes them a force that can resist the two large political powers to either side of Mélusine. Mildmay is a cat burglar who takes a job that eventually leads him to cross paths with Felix.

This is as good a place as any to talk about the structure of the books, though I have more to say about the voices. Mélusine and The Virtu are basically one novel divided in two because of length, with a story shaped like a U. Many things from the first part of the novel (the left-hand side of the U) are picked up again or paralleled later (on the right-hand side), after something like an interlude in the middle that spans the end of the first book and the beginning of the second. (An important interlude, I should say, just not as immediately concerned with the events that take place on either side.) Which is a long and possibly too-abstract way of saying that Mélusine does not stand alone.

Another thing about the structure is that I go back and forth as to whether the pacing could have been quicker. When I look at any particular incident, I see that it contributes something to the story; and yet I still have the general feeling that the story could have moved faster, particularly in the middle, that book-spanning bottom of the U.

Which leads me back to the narrative voices, by way of the characters. This is a fundamentally character-driven story, and so most of the time, what any particular incident is contributing is a further development of Mildmay, Felix, or their relationship. I think this is done brilliantly, with lots of depth and complexity and difficulties. But the points of view are really tight, which is one of the reasons why I think the narrative voices are the most important things about these books: if you don’t like them, there’s no getting away from it.

The tightness of the points of view also has its good and bad effects on the story. Personally, a really consistent and distinctive point of view is one of my favorite things, so that alone was a plus for me. But unless a first-person narrator is consciously telling a tale for an unfamiliar audience, first-person does require the reader to do some more work to figure out what’s going on. For me, that translated to difficulty understanding Mélusine’s history (especially since the Mirador and the Lower City use different calendar systems). On my re-read, I deliberately flagged everything that had a date or time frame, and then I was able to piece it together fairly easily: but I had to consciously pay attention to it. Your tolerance for complexity may vary. And, of course, there are some things that first-person narrators just don’t know, so that I found myself in the peculiar position of wanting the villain to make a big motivation-baring speech at the end. I see now why writers are tempted by it—how else to get that information out there?

As my comments about Mélusine’s history may have suggested, the world is as complex as the characters: multiple societies, religions live and dead, past coups and dynastic changes, competing schools of wizarding philosophy/religion (if it’s got something called “heresy” for which people may be burned, I think that makes it more a religion than not), towers, labyrinths, ghouls, the Kalliphorne, divinations . . . all of which are really cool. (Though I am slightly uncomfortable with the role divination plays in the emotional resolution of The Virtu, because it’s the kind of thing I am sensitive about.) Even when I wasn’t quite sure I understood some of the worldbuilding details, I was fascinated.

Mélusine and The Virtu tell a complete story, but there will be two more books in the series. The third, The Mirador, will be out in early August. Judging by the sample chapters on the author’s website, two years on there’s both new business and old to be dealt with. I can’t wait.

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