The Virtu: Initial Thoughts
Read it in spurts over a two-day period -- damned work. At any rate, I think I will reread before posting a full-out review, but for now, here is what I've got to say.
I had been wondering ever since starting my reread of Mélusine last week when the opening story of Porphyria Levant and Silas Altamont would come into play. Initially, I thought it was meant to draw attention to Malkar's treatment of Felix -- the obligation de sang, as we now know its name. Except that the voice is very distinctively Mildmay's; Mildmay, who is not made aware of Felix and Malkar until much later.
So, a mystery. Until halfway through The Virtu, that is.
truepenny wrote an entry where she explained how The Virtu and Mélusine were initially one single volume called The Shadow of the Mirador. In light of that, so much of The Virtu makes perfect sense, especially the way single threads are picked back up after having been literally left behind in Mélusine during the first book.
Many of my questions in this entry were answered. Including my guess that the Mirador was a labyrinth -- go me! My guesses in general were far better with this book than they have been for previous books (i.e. Harry Potter, George R.R. Martin).
At any rate, moving on. I do like the distinction made between the obligation d'âme and the obligation de sang. The latter is, in some small way, voluntary. The soul, after all, is not part of the blood or the body, therefore it must be given. Is it generally a bad idea? Yes. However, there is no compulsion involved in the initial decision. The annemer has to ask for it. Now, I'm quite sure it's the sort of thing that can be -- and certainly is -- often badly manipulated, but if one looks at it completely objectively, it is a free-will decision. The obligation de sang, on the other hand, is forced. One need only look at Malkar and Felix to illustrate this. Malkar cast the obligation de sang on Felix, and Felix didn't even know he'd done it. Again, back to the Blood Magic Is Bad credo. Interesting how the obligation d'âme is not blood magic, but still heresy because it does create absolute control over another human being.
Malkar was Brinvillier Strych all along. *That* caught me by surprise. I was quite sure he and Vey Coruscant were working together; their apparently disparate plots in the first book were far too well-planned for coincidence. But I didn't guess that she *had* succeeded in bringing her old master to life, and that he'd been in the Mirador all along. Sneaky, sneaky.
And of course, Thamuris' prophecy. Mildmay trusted Felix, loved him, and Felix sent him off after Vey Coruscant without a second thought. Bad, bad Felix. I wanted to shake him repeatedly after that scene. He does have this rather annoying habit of doing something awful to Mildmay, feeling bad about it, apologising, and then doing it again five minutes later. But it is a realistic character trait, and I definitely have to give Sarah Monette credit for that. All the same, poor Mildmay.
I did like seeing a nice, strong female character in Mehitabel. And while I guessed that she'd eventually end up with Mildmay about ten seconds after she showed up, the journey was very nice. And I like how Gideon calms Felix down a little. The man needs it.
Again, with the small threads coming back. Mildmay's Keeper making an appearance toward the end; Rindleshin's cameo as they entered Mélusine; the return of Hugo Chandler, not to mention Cardenio; and I *knew* Malkar was going to aim for Stephen. It was simply the next logical step, and Malkar is nothing if not logical when it comes to his own ambitions. And the ghosts, of course. The dead will not stay dead.
As I said,a more detailed and coherent review later, once I've reread the book and let it sink in properly. But at the moment, all I really want to do is sit down with the author and pick her brain about how on earth to write such gorgeous and intricately structured novels.
I had been wondering ever since starting my reread of Mélusine last week when the opening story of Porphyria Levant and Silas Altamont would come into play. Initially, I thought it was meant to draw attention to Malkar's treatment of Felix -- the obligation de sang, as we now know its name. Except that the voice is very distinctively Mildmay's; Mildmay, who is not made aware of Felix and Malkar until much later.
So, a mystery. Until halfway through The Virtu, that is.
truepenny wrote an entry where she explained how The Virtu and Mélusine were initially one single volume called The Shadow of the Mirador. In light of that, so much of The Virtu makes perfect sense, especially the way single threads are picked back up after having been literally left behind in Mélusine during the first book.
Many of my questions in this entry were answered. Including my guess that the Mirador was a labyrinth -- go me! My guesses in general were far better with this book than they have been for previous books (i.e. Harry Potter, George R.R. Martin).
At any rate, moving on. I do like the distinction made between the obligation d'âme and the obligation de sang. The latter is, in some small way, voluntary. The soul, after all, is not part of the blood or the body, therefore it must be given. Is it generally a bad idea? Yes. However, there is no compulsion involved in the initial decision. The annemer has to ask for it. Now, I'm quite sure it's the sort of thing that can be -- and certainly is -- often badly manipulated, but if one looks at it completely objectively, it is a free-will decision. The obligation de sang, on the other hand, is forced. One need only look at Malkar and Felix to illustrate this. Malkar cast the obligation de sang on Felix, and Felix didn't even know he'd done it. Again, back to the Blood Magic Is Bad credo. Interesting how the obligation d'âme is not blood magic, but still heresy because it does create absolute control over another human being.
Malkar was Brinvillier Strych all along. *That* caught me by surprise. I was quite sure he and Vey Coruscant were working together; their apparently disparate plots in the first book were far too well-planned for coincidence. But I didn't guess that she *had* succeeded in bringing her old master to life, and that he'd been in the Mirador all along. Sneaky, sneaky.
And of course, Thamuris' prophecy. Mildmay trusted Felix, loved him, and Felix sent him off after Vey Coruscant without a second thought. Bad, bad Felix. I wanted to shake him repeatedly after that scene. He does have this rather annoying habit of doing something awful to Mildmay, feeling bad about it, apologising, and then doing it again five minutes later. But it is a realistic character trait, and I definitely have to give Sarah Monette credit for that. All the same, poor Mildmay.
I did like seeing a nice, strong female character in Mehitabel. And while I guessed that she'd eventually end up with Mildmay about ten seconds after she showed up, the journey was very nice. And I like how Gideon calms Felix down a little. The man needs it.
Again, with the small threads coming back. Mildmay's Keeper making an appearance toward the end; Rindleshin's cameo as they entered Mélusine; the return of Hugo Chandler, not to mention Cardenio; and I *knew* Malkar was going to aim for Stephen. It was simply the next logical step, and Malkar is nothing if not logical when it comes to his own ambitions. And the ghosts, of course. The dead will not stay dead.
As I said,a more detailed and coherent review later, once I've reread the book and let it sink in properly. But at the moment, all I really want to do is sit down with the author and pick her brain about how on earth to write such gorgeous and intricately structured novels.