Wednesday, February 21 2007
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The Virtu by Sarah Monette - Review
by Kyra Smith
A brief review of The Virtu, in which Kyra Smith pretty much repeats everything she said about Melusine.
The Virtu is the sequel to Melusine, which I gush about in my review here, and starts almost exactly where Melusine finished. Having been restored to health and (relative) sanity, the gay ex-prostitute wizard (no, I'm never going to tire of writing that) Felix Harrowgate and his brother, the adorable cat-burglar Mildmay, head back to the city of Melusine to finish the plot. There isn't much to say in this review that I didn't say in my review of Melusine: the same problems and the same strengths apply, and I still love these books to pieces and I heartily recommend them.
Melusine and The Virtu are very much a pair. I'm not sure what creative or editorial process went into the decision to split the books in two but it's very much of the George R.R. Martin "I will stop writing here" school, which inspires a certain amount of irritation in me because, series or not, some part of me believes a book should be, to some extent, a self-contained artefact. You can't read Melusine without The Virtu (or vice versa) and many of the minor difficulties I had with the first book are rendered irrelevant by the second. We return to the secondary characters I felt had fallen by the wayside and the rather labyrinthine plot gains sufficient pace and focus to offer a satisfying conclusion. Additionally, when taken together, the two books provide a plot that, by fantasy standards, has a rather elegant structure; it's a real shame to lose that sense of coherence and direction.
The characters are, again, the main strength of The Virtu, although the angst quotient ratchets through the roof. It's something of a relief to encounter a sane and lucid Felix, although if anything it makes his occasionally quite hideously selfish behaviour even less forgivable than it was in the first book. On the other hand, Mildmay, my favourite character, dissolves into a passive-aggressive stew of insecurity and is somewhat less compelling because of it. I remember complaining in the review of Melusine that Mildmay's life until his encounter with Felix, although interesting, seemed a little irrelevant but it is granted weight and context by the action of the second book, and serves as a necessary illumination of the character traits that come to the fore in his dealings with Felix, specifically his passive aggressive insecurity. Sigh. The developing relationship between the two brothers remains fascinating, however, and is flavoured by a teasing frisson of incestuous attraction that, having an attractive younger half-brother of my own, probably ought to have threatened and disgusted me but instead seemed mainly to inspire eager cries of "just shag already." And the introduction of a third character, the actress-turned-governess Mehitabel Parr (kind of like a sexy Jane Eyre) was a refreshing addition to the book, especially since her no-nonsense but compassionate nature seems in no way disposed towards angst. As ever, Monette's characterisation is deft and detailed and, quite frankly, I'm just delighted to encounter an interesting and original female character in a fantasy novel. I hope for more of Mehitabel Parr in further books.
Like Melusine, I occasionally found in The Virtu a dissonance between the way in which characters are described and the qualities they display, for example the much vaunted charisma that allows Felix to charm almost every character they encounter and hold his place in high wizard society. We mainly see Felix through Mildmay's awe-struck eyes but, as a reader, I am never convinced or drawn in by his magnetism. Similarly, the villain of the piece, Malkar, does horrendous things and acquires a backplot but, in spite of this, his malignance never feels particularly real.
But this is nitpicking. In both style and substance The Virtu far outstrips nearly every fantasy book I have recently read. It's an assured and absorbing piece of work and I am hungry for the next. Oh, I should also add the cover art has improved immeasurably. Shirtless mad Felix has been replaced by fully-clad but undeniably sexy Mildmay crouched on a rooftop being cat-burglarish. More of this please.
Melusine and The Virtu are very much a pair. I'm not sure what creative or editorial process went into the decision to split the books in two but it's very much of the George R.R. Martin "I will stop writing here" school, which inspires a certain amount of irritation in me because, series or not, some part of me believes a book should be, to some extent, a self-contained artefact. You can't read Melusine without The Virtu (or vice versa) and many of the minor difficulties I had with the first book are rendered irrelevant by the second. We return to the secondary characters I felt had fallen by the wayside and the rather labyrinthine plot gains sufficient pace and focus to offer a satisfying conclusion. Additionally, when taken together, the two books provide a plot that, by fantasy standards, has a rather elegant structure; it's a real shame to lose that sense of coherence and direction.
The characters are, again, the main strength of The Virtu, although the angst quotient ratchets through the roof. It's something of a relief to encounter a sane and lucid Felix, although if anything it makes his occasionally quite hideously selfish behaviour even less forgivable than it was in the first book. On the other hand, Mildmay, my favourite character, dissolves into a passive-aggressive stew of insecurity and is somewhat less compelling because of it. I remember complaining in the review of Melusine that Mildmay's life until his encounter with Felix, although interesting, seemed a little irrelevant but it is granted weight and context by the action of the second book, and serves as a necessary illumination of the character traits that come to the fore in his dealings with Felix, specifically his passive aggressive insecurity. Sigh. The developing relationship between the two brothers remains fascinating, however, and is flavoured by a teasing frisson of incestuous attraction that, having an attractive younger half-brother of my own, probably ought to have threatened and disgusted me but instead seemed mainly to inspire eager cries of "just shag already." And the introduction of a third character, the actress-turned-governess Mehitabel Parr (kind of like a sexy Jane Eyre) was a refreshing addition to the book, especially since her no-nonsense but compassionate nature seems in no way disposed towards angst. As ever, Monette's characterisation is deft and detailed and, quite frankly, I'm just delighted to encounter an interesting and original female character in a fantasy novel. I hope for more of Mehitabel Parr in further books.
Like Melusine, I occasionally found in The Virtu a dissonance between the way in which characters are described and the qualities they display, for example the much vaunted charisma that allows Felix to charm almost every character they encounter and hold his place in high wizard society. We mainly see Felix through Mildmay's awe-struck eyes but, as a reader, I am never convinced or drawn in by his magnetism. Similarly, the villain of the piece, Malkar, does horrendous things and acquires a backplot but, in spite of this, his malignance never feels particularly real.
But this is nitpicking. In both style and substance The Virtu far outstrips nearly every fantasy book I have recently read. It's an assured and absorbing piece of work and I am hungry for the next. Oh, I should also add the cover art has improved immeasurably. Shirtless mad Felix has been replaced by fully-clad but undeniably sexy Mildmay crouched on a rooftop being cat-burglarish. More of this please.
