Lamplighter, L. Jagi: Prospero in Hell
Prospero in Hell (2010)
Written by: L. Jagi Lamplighter
Genre: Modern Fantasy
Pages: 347 (Hardcover)
Series: Book Two of Prospero's Daughter
Why I Read It: The first book in the trilogy, Prospero Lost, surprised me. I thought it'd be one of those book I regretted because I fell in love with the cover, but I ended up really enjoying it, so much so that I pre-ordered the second installment without hesitation. Since Jawas Read, Too!'s March selection just so happens to be Prospero Lost, I thought it would be a fine time to read its sequel, Prospero in Hell.
The premise: ganked from BN.com: The exciting, suspenseful story of Miranda’s search for Prospero, the fabled sorcerer of The Tempest.
The search of a daughter for her father is but the beginning of this robust fantasy adventure. For five hundred years since the events of William Shakespeare’s The Tempest, Miranda has run Prospero, Inc., protecting an unknowing world from disasters both natural and man-made. Now her father has been taken prisoner of dark spirits in a place she could only guess. Piecing together clues about her father’s whereabouts and discovering secrets of her shrouded past, she comes to an inescapable conclusion she has dreaded since Prospero was lost.
Prospero has been imprisoned in Hell, kept there by demons who wish to extract a terrible price in exchange for his freedom. As the time of reckoning for Miranda draws near, she realizes that hundreds of years of their family’s magic may not be enough to free her once-powerful father from the curse that could destroy them...and the world.
Spoilers, yay or nay?: Sometimes, the middle installment of a trilogy is where nothing much happens, it's just the transition point from the beginning to the end. Sometimes, the middle installment of a trilogy is the darkest chapter, and anyone who's seen Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back can attest to that. So it's with the latter assumption that I'm going to discuss Prospero in Hell, because it is a dark installment, and with an interesting turn of events that might well define this fantasy series as something different. Spoilers? Sorry, but yes. Skip to "My Rating" to stay safe.
Prospero in Hell pretty much picks up right where Prospero Lost left off, which is fine, except I've forgotten certain details, like Sier having Gregor's staff, you know? For the most part, Lamplighter does a good job making sure I'm not completely in the dark, but while it's definitely NOT a book to be read as a stand-alone, it can at times be a wee bit difficult for those of us who've read the first book when it came out and have since forgotten things.
Yet, what Lamplighter reminds us of, she hits us over the head with, like Miranda's rationale behind not destroying her flute to release the Aerie ones, or how much trouble it is to get the Water of Life, or just how much she wants to be a Sybil, etc. Of course, these particular items that are hammered into the reader actually turn into a major plot point in that in the book's darkest hour, Miranda's choices come back to bite her in the ass.
Let me be clear: by choices, I mean this: what's likely holding her back from becoming a Sybil is the fact she, through her flute, has enslaved an entire race of creatures. By destroying the flute, she'd release the Aerie ones from slavery and would be, most likely, a Sybil or close to it. Once she achieved the rank, she'd be able to make the Water of Life at will, and then getting it wouldn't be such a pain in the ass.
Mind you, that's assuming that all Miranda needed to do was destroy the flute. All the stress on love makes me wonder if it was really that easy for her. Whatever the cause, Miranda's been very rational and practical and emotionless, something that's breaking down in this book as she's starting to feel empathy for others. It begs the question: what's caused this previous Vulcan-esque mentality and inability to feel? It also begs the question that even if she had broken the flute, Miranda would've still needed to learn to love.
But at the moment, the book is leading us to believe it was her inability to destroy the flute that kept her from her rank, and when she loses her maidenhood (in a scene quite tastefully done, thankfully), she's lost all possibility of ever becoming a Sybil, as well as obtaining the Water of Life.
When this scene happened, I had to pause. Rape in fiction tends to be a trigger, not because I've experienced it in real life, but because it's over done, as if it's the only WORST THING you can do to a female character in fiction in terms of giving her adversity, you know? But as I considered the ramifications of Miranda's rape, there's obviously more to it: she's abandoned by her Lady. This changes EVERYTHING. All the opportunity before Miranda is gone: she can't get the Water of Life, she can't become a Sybil and break unbreakable curses to save Mephisto and Astreus. In regards to reward, it doesn't matter if she releases the Aerie Ones or not: the flute is the only magic she has left.
Which raises an important question: without the magic of the Sybil, what's left? The questions raised about a deity who'll abandon those who need them most (in this case, you have to be a virgin to become a Sybil, but rape disqualifies you as a virgin, despite it not being your fault and your heart is still pure), and then the subsequent visit from the Angel made me step back and wonder if we aren't getting ourselves some Christian fantasy.
This doesn't bother me as much as I'd think if you were to just slap such a label on the trilogy. At least, not yet. So far, it's not preachy at all. We've got a variety of myths and magics and religions that all seem to compete for the same space in the world, and while the various peoples argue about what's right and true, it's never in the sense that you feel the author is pushing a particular agenda.
Yet.
I say that because there's one book to go. We've got Prospero to rescue from Hell, and let's face it, with all that's happened, we're gonna get answers and some solid indication about the right and wrong choices, you know? I don't mind this trilogy being such that celebrates what's right and good about Christianity, so long as it does so without sacrificing the integrity of the characters, so long as it doesn't preach.
There's still a whole book left for preaching, and I'm a wee bit worried.
After all, there are moments, meant to be comical I'm sure, where demons wail and flail in their failure to make others worship them. They come off as cheesy and ridiculous, which is fine, but unfortunate when the scariest demons are those from Hell (Christian mythology) and the cheesy ones are djinn (obviously, not part of any Christian mythology, see Chapter Six). I choose to believe the best of the author for now, but I wonder if someone were to read these books with an eye to what's celebrated and what's mocked when it comes to myth and folklore, if an ugly picture wouldn't present itself? That's a question, not an accusation. But it's something I'll be looking for in the third book.
Technically speaking, Lamplighter writes with a dry wit that reminds me a bit of the Gail Carriger books, though not intentionally humorous. Still, Alexia and Miranda may well get along in terms of personality, because both are far removed from emotion, you know? However, Lamplighter's prose tends to trip over itself when she describes something and describes the same thing again, but differently. An example:
I poured liberally, giving [Theo] extra Water. As the shining pearly drops fell into his glass, the entire table broke into applause . . . . Recalling Theo's delicate health, I gave him two extra drops for good measure (page 229).
Now this doesn't read all that badly, but you have to ask, if Miranda's already pouring LIBERALLY, obviously giving Theo extra, what's the point of mentioning two more drops? It's not as if she gave him the requisite one drop for the year and then gave him two more, you know?
I keep coming back to the religious examinations in this book, and I do look forward to see what Lamplighter has to say when this trilogy is said and done. Because I was horrified that Miranda was so abandoned by her Lady after an act that wasn't even Miranda's fault. Hell, Eurynome didn't even come to say goodbye. Miranda's been dropped like a hot potato, and seriously, what kind of deity DOES that to those whose hearts are pure, you know? While I doubt Lamplighter intended this comparison (because Gregor's the one who says God never abandons his children), one could apply this question of who is worthy of a deity's love to the Christian God as well. It's a rich religious and spiritual question on a host of levels, and I find that delicious food for thought.
Aside from the questions of spirituality and religion and the place of God in men and women's hearts, plot questions are raised here too that I can't wait to find the answers for. What's the deal with Miranda's mother and did Prospero really have her under some kind of obedience spell? Why does Erasmus hate Miranda so (I'm guessing because she wouldn't give his family the Water of Life, and they died)? We learned a great deal about Mephisto and what's going on in his head and why (he remains a favorite character), but I wonder if there's not more to be mined, especially his connection to Calvin. It all appears innocent, but I can't help but wonder if there's not more to it.
The world-building continues to fascinate. I love the background on the creation of elves, but can't remember if this particular origin story has been used before (I may have read The Lord of the Rings, but I've not read any of the histories or prequels that deal with the elves). Regardless, I was entertained and enjoyed the story.
Ultimately, it's a dark tale: Miranda loses nearly everything she's held dear, and what appears to be her once chance at romantic love is not only a demon, but infuriated with her for not trusting in his ability to control his own people (something that genuinely didn't occur to her to even know). And the very end, after the triumphant battle against Abaddon, Miranda makes a single mistake that tears her family apart quite literally. Yes, middle installments tend to be darker before the dawn, which makes me think that in some ways, the third book, Prospero Regained will be triumphant in more ways than one.
My Rating
Worth Reading, with Reservations: It's an enjoyable continuation of Prospero Lost, but not to be read if the first book isn't under your belt. Lamplighter's dry tone works surprisingly well for me, and the allusions to Shakespeare and Dante and so many other pieces of literature and mythology and folklore make this book wonderfully rich. There's lots of little things to love, even for the briefest of moments, and I do love the backstory of Lamplighter's elves and their origins and how it ties into the ever-infamous Tithe that must be paid to Hell. More to the point, however, is that this is a dark chapter for the Prospero family on a host of levels, and while events happen in this book that may infuriate some readers, it's important to note that such events don't happen arbitrarily and have dire consequences for the characters. Prospero in Hell also manages to turn itself away from Modern Fantasy to dip a toe in the waters that C.S. Lewis knows so well. Not allegorical, of course, and not preachy. Right now, it's a fascinating mixture of fantasy and religion, and I'm curious to see where that goes in the conclusion, Prospero Regained.
Buy or Borrow: While I enjoy these books, I don't see myself re-reading them, which makes them good candidates for your local library. Naturally, if you fall in love, you're going to want to have these for your personal collection, but I'm not in love, and while I'm enjoying the ride, I'm not relishing it to the point of treasuring the copies I own. So this is a case where, if I had a decent library nearby, I'd be borrowing instead of buying.
Cover Commentary: Okay, let me be honest: I'm really glad they kept a certain consistency with the choice of font and the layout of the design. That makes me happy. Given the title of the book, the colors are great too, even if I'm not fond of them. However, I just don't care for the cover. I don't like Miranda's post, and I don't like looking at the background and not being able to figure out what I'm looking at. Hellwinds, maybe, but the problem with that is if that is indeed the scene (risky choice for the artist, given the text!), Miranda should be holding the flute, not a sword. At any rate, not a fan. Which is a shame, because I loved the first cover to bits.
Next up: The Slippery Art of Book Reviewing by Mayra Calvani & Anne K. Edwards