I actually finished Mélusine Wednesday night, but work-related travel led me to a two-day disconnect from the internet. I did not suffer all that much - got a lot done, some of it writing some of it bio, and the break allowed me to distill why I love this novel so much. Of course, then I remembered that
truepenny rocks like a goddess and ran off to her website to read the first three chapters of the forthcoming The Virtu.
Is it June 27th yet? In other news, I so know what I'm getting for my sister's birthday (which is the 28th, and despite my own being five days later, I absolutely cannot wait!).
Well, as non-spoilery as possible.
I have previously said that this book hooked me in four pages. The reason is two-fold:
1. Mildmay's very distinctive character voice, and
2. Felix's life explodes in his face on pages 3-6. (Okay, so in the actual book it's p.5-8, but that's because there's a page that says "Part I" throwing off the count.)
Sarah Monette teaches us that there is no need to spend the time setting up a wall that you're just going to knock down as soon as possible. She relies on the reader to know the wall is there in a few concise clues - thus trusting our intelligence - and gives us what we're there to see. The downfall of the status quo happens quickly and brutally, and one of the characters spends the rest of the book paying the price.
The book has a strange duality in my mind - Felix's actions (and the actions of others with regard to him) drive the plot, but it is Mildmay who is the window by which we see this world. Oh, one can certainly argue that Felix gives us a perspective on how the upper crust lives while Mildmay is out in the trenches, and that is in some sense true. But we all know how the upper crust lives - we've read those books time and time again. It is Mildmay who shows us Mélusine proper - from her walls to the Arcane, from the Sim and the cade-skiffs to the Boneprince. He is the voice of reason and knowledge, and his is the perspective that we are forced to rely on for the real story.
The one thing that surprised me was how long Felix & Mildmay went before meeting. And I was indescribably pleased to see how the author did not dance around the point of their meeting - she brought them together, demonstrated the Plot Point, and moved on to the characters and overarching story. I do hope that the instruments of their introduction do reappear in The Virtu, else they feel like quite the MacGuffin.
Actually, you can pretty well tell that Monette is out to tell a long story. She sets up some fabulous things in this book, and she's not shy about it, either. The world-building is, of course, most necessary, but then there's her homage to Moria (...I only put that together just now, thinking about her comments during the Genuis Loci panel at Boskone this past Feb, I swear) will crop up again, as will the rival magical schools, as will, I hope, some of the problems Mildmay encounters early on in the story.
But what this story really runs on is the bonds she forges between her protagonists as soon as they meet. I was a bit puzzled, at first, to note how close Mildmay would stick to this flash hocus he picked up without quite intending to, but it completely fits with the sheer charisma Felix has. Likewise, Mildmay exerts his own magnetic pull, no matter what he thinks on the matter.
The Roman and Greek nomenclature, the calendrical systems (a full explanation of which can be found on the website), and, oh I think I love her so very much for the Morskaiakrov! (Why yes, that is Морская Кровь, for those following along at home. I was trying to explain why I loved that so much to the boyfriend, whose grasp of Russian is improving, but very patchy and mostly conversational, but I simply can't find a good translation for the first word. It can be an adjective for sea-water, but also sailors, and pretty much anything marine. The second word is blood.) It's not just the vessel, but the description of her crew that gets me. It felt like every time my dad has ever taken me out on the water.
Sorry, sentimental rambling. Anyway, having praised it to the skies, I must now issue a few warnings: the opening chapter of this book is not even close to being for those faint of heart. Actually, very little of it is, but Chapter 1 is something onto itself. The book features murder, mayhem, rape, abuse, torture of the physical and mental varieties, and insanity. If this is not your cup of tea... well, get over it and read it anyway! It'll expand your mind!
One other minor quibble - while that is a picture of Felix on the front cover, it bugs me all to hell that both his eyes are blue. Grr! Nor does the cover for The Virtu show Mildmay's scar, but at least that one you can argue that his face is angled away.
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Is it June 27th yet? In other news, I so know what I'm getting for my sister's birthday (which is the 28th, and despite my own being five days later, I absolutely cannot wait!).
Well, as non-spoilery as possible.
I have previously said that this book hooked me in four pages. The reason is two-fold:
1. Mildmay's very distinctive character voice, and
2. Felix's life explodes in his face on pages 3-6. (Okay, so in the actual book it's p.5-8, but that's because there's a page that says "Part I" throwing off the count.)
Sarah Monette teaches us that there is no need to spend the time setting up a wall that you're just going to knock down as soon as possible. She relies on the reader to know the wall is there in a few concise clues - thus trusting our intelligence - and gives us what we're there to see. The downfall of the status quo happens quickly and brutally, and one of the characters spends the rest of the book paying the price.
The book has a strange duality in my mind - Felix's actions (and the actions of others with regard to him) drive the plot, but it is Mildmay who is the window by which we see this world. Oh, one can certainly argue that Felix gives us a perspective on how the upper crust lives while Mildmay is out in the trenches, and that is in some sense true. But we all know how the upper crust lives - we've read those books time and time again. It is Mildmay who shows us Mélusine proper - from her walls to the Arcane, from the Sim and the cade-skiffs to the Boneprince. He is the voice of reason and knowledge, and his is the perspective that we are forced to rely on for the real story.
The one thing that surprised me was how long Felix & Mildmay went before meeting. And I was indescribably pleased to see how the author did not dance around the point of their meeting - she brought them together, demonstrated the Plot Point, and moved on to the characters and overarching story. I do hope that the instruments of their introduction do reappear in The Virtu, else they feel like quite the MacGuffin.
Actually, you can pretty well tell that Monette is out to tell a long story. She sets up some fabulous things in this book, and she's not shy about it, either. The world-building is, of course, most necessary, but then there's her homage to Moria (...I only put that together just now, thinking about her comments during the Genuis Loci panel at Boskone this past Feb, I swear) will crop up again, as will the rival magical schools, as will, I hope, some of the problems Mildmay encounters early on in the story.
But what this story really runs on is the bonds she forges between her protagonists as soon as they meet. I was a bit puzzled, at first, to note how close Mildmay would stick to this flash hocus he picked up without quite intending to, but it completely fits with the sheer charisma Felix has. Likewise, Mildmay exerts his own magnetic pull, no matter what he thinks on the matter.
The Roman and Greek nomenclature, the calendrical systems (a full explanation of which can be found on the website), and, oh I think I love her so very much for the Morskaiakrov! (Why yes, that is Морская Кровь, for those following along at home. I was trying to explain why I loved that so much to the boyfriend, whose grasp of Russian is improving, but very patchy and mostly conversational, but I simply can't find a good translation for the first word. It can be an adjective for sea-water, but also sailors, and pretty much anything marine. The second word is blood.) It's not just the vessel, but the description of her crew that gets me. It felt like every time my dad has ever taken me out on the water.
Sorry, sentimental rambling. Anyway, having praised it to the skies, I must now issue a few warnings: the opening chapter of this book is not even close to being for those faint of heart. Actually, very little of it is, but Chapter 1 is something onto itself. The book features murder, mayhem, rape, abuse, torture of the physical and mental varieties, and insanity. If this is not your cup of tea... well, get over it and read it anyway! It'll expand your mind!
One other minor quibble - while that is a picture of Felix on the front cover, it bugs me all to hell that both his eyes are blue. Grr! Nor does the cover for The Virtu show Mildmay's scar, but at least that one you can argue that his face is angled away.
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
Still, I think in the most part, this cover artist has done well by the characters. Those tattoos are nicely rendered, for one thing. And I imagine a spooky yellow eye won't sell all that well.