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RYO Review: Blameless by Gail Carriger
Gail Carriger‘s The Parasol Protectorate novels are like delicious, ridiculously decorated little petit fours of books. I read Blameless in under twenty-four hours, mostly in two sittings. I went through two cups of lavender Earl Grey tea, one glass of wine, two espressos, and one cup of vanilla black tea while reading it. The espresso is not very Parasol Protectorate-ish, but Alexia was in Italy for that portion of the book.
I was a little afraid going into this book, because the end of the last book was very heavy, and also Conall was absolutely terrible, so I was afraid that in order to provide conflict throughout this book, he would continue to be a jerkface and then I wouldn’t be able to be happy about him and Alexia getting back together (which was basically the inevitable ending). Luckily, things weren’t as bad as I feared on that front, since (a) the book only takes place over a few weeks, and (b) apparently Conall deals with his feelings by getting sloshed off formaldehyde and then the mess he created continues because he can’t sober up for weeks, not because he is continuing to actually have dumber-than-a-brick opinions about the whole mess.
RYO Review: Changeless by Gail Carriger
Snowpocalypse. Again. This one I celebrated by drinking copious amounts of tea and reading Gail Carriger‘s Changeless, the sequel to her delightful absurdist steampunk fantasy mystery romance Soulless, which I read over the summer (in a delightful rustic lakeside cabin in Maine. God, I can’t wait for summer again).
In Changeless, our soulless heroine, formerly Alexia Tarabotti, now Mrs. Alexia Maccon, Lady Woolsey, is just settling in to her multiple new roles as a married woman, the female Alpha of Woolsey pack, and Queen Victoria’s muhjah, when chaos strikes, in the form of an entire regiment of werewolves camping out on her front lawn. Well, that happens, but it’s not the real chaos, unfortunately. The real chaos is a peculiarly exactingly defined area of London in which all supernatural have ceased being supernatural, as if a preternatural (a soulless person, like Alexia) were continually touching everyone within a certain radius at once. Needless to say, the vampires and werewolves are rather panicked. The ghosts, unfortunately, have been exorcised, and as such have nothing to say about the matter.
WoGF Review: Soulless by Gail Carriger
Tanya F. (metalorchid), has been a fan of sci-fi since childhood, a love that kicked off with Ray Bradbury’s The Martian Chronicles. She enjoys plots that involve time travel and alternate histories, but also can’t resist a lengthy, world weaving fantasy epic, or a well crafted short horror story.
Considering that this is my first book read and reviewed for the 2013 Women of Genre Fiction challenge, I feel a twinge of regret that I’m starting off on a low note, especially since so many people have raved about the Parasol Protectorate series and I’ve been intrigued by the cover image of the woman in purple taffeta, wearing a determined expression as she makes her way through foggy London. (Kudos, cover designer!)
The chief problem I found with Soulless is that it doesn’t quite know what it is. The story of the titular “soulless” protagonist, the quick witted and fiercely independent “spinster” Alexia Tarabotti, weaves elements of Gothic mystery, steampunk, classic (and supernatural) romance, and humor. But, unlike the theory of equilibrium discussed in certain detail by some scientists in the novel, Soulless doesn’t actually strike a balance among all its influences.
For starters, there are numerous repetitive, intended as comedic, allusions to Alexia’s Italian physique and temperament that really start to wear thin. There are also more than a few instances where characters react to their situations with clever little quips that aren’t actually spoken out loud. A lot of these details, which maybe I picked up on because I tend to dislike repetitive humor, seem to present a constant effort on Carriger‘s part to make us remember that these characters are clever, oh so clever! And interesting! And complex! It’s a little too much telling and not enough showing.
WoGF Review: Soulless by Gail Carriger
Christine Bellerive (cmbellerive) is an omnivorous reader who devours literary and genre fiction alike. When she’s not reading, she’s editing other people’s books — and writing a fantasy novel of her own. Her other interests include stringed instruments and hunting dogs of the American South. She blogs at Strange Quarks.
I picked Soulless because of the fun cover: Victorian girl with attitude, holding unspeakably awesome brass parasol. I figured it’d be a whimsical light read.
The story takes place in an alternate history where “supernaturals” (vampires, werewolves, ghosts) are accepted in society and live their lives duly regulated by law. Queen Victoria has a government bureau to oversee them. Alexia Tarabotti is a snarky spinster who belongs to another class of beings: “preternaturals,” which means humans who have either too much soul or no soul at all. She’s one of the soulless ones, which basically seems to mean that she has terrible taste in art, and also she can neutralize a supernatural. Werewolves and vampires lose their powers when in physical contact with her.
Enter Lord Maccon, a handsome and wealthy werewolf. Romance and hijinks ensue.
Unfortunately I didn’t enjoy this book as much as I thought I would. For one thing, it’s on the girly side for my taste. I was hoping for an adventure story, but this is really a romantic comedy, and romantic comedy of the type that reads like the naughty dreams of a fifteen-year-old girl. Maybe if I liked that sort of thing in general, I’d be more positive about this book, but it just wasn’t for me on the basis of genre alone. I can hardly read Jane Austen, even though I recognize the quality of her writing, because of the ladies-in-drawing-rooms-worrying-about-love subject matter. So reading a knockoff wasn’t much fun.
I also found it difficult to get past the stilted pseudo-Victorian diction. I don’t mind a mannered and archaic voice — I really enjoyed E. B. Hudspeth’s The Resurrectionist – but for me the execution has to be spot-on. Carriger uses some genuine Victorianisms, but also a lot of stereotypical British phrases that sound cut-and-pasted from Mary Poppins, as well as modern expressions that are anachronistic in context. She sticks them together in long, poorly-constructed, vaguely Austen-ish sentences and calls it steampunk. It was like listening to someone talk in a terrible fake accent for 350 pages.
The concept of “soulless” people was pretty original, and I liked the eventual introduction of scientists trying to figure out what vampirism is. What is the “soul,” and how does it transfer from person to person? There are some potentially interesting themes here, but nothing much gets done with them. Alexia is occasionally witty, and there were even a couple moments when I chuckled out loud. Still, overall I didn’t enjoy this book.
Did I mention the clunky makeout scenes? They go on for pages and pages, and they sound something like this: “Then he inserted tab A into slot B. Oh my! she said.” The level of detail is awkward, cliched, and unsexy. Not to mention anachronistic.
I even lost some of my amusement with the cover design, when I realized that the main character is supposed to have ample curves. Then what is a rail-thin woman doing in the picture? Feminism’s come so far.
