Blameless, Gail Carriger

Hm. I wish Conall had been made to grovel rather more than this, after his reaction in the last book; I especially wish that his horrible comments to Alexia weren’t just stupidity and were actually driven by a real fear of betrayal. That would make me feel less annoyed if he had some foundation for the way he treated her. Gah. Still, this book does allow Genevieve, Floote and Professor Lyall to shine. And get up to hijinks.

The series continues to be absurd, fun, and relatively inconsequential, with some surprisingly sweet moments — Biffy and Lord Akeldama, ach, right in my feels; Vieve’s caring for Alexia — and some things that can’t help but make you laugh. I mean, for example, this bit:

Alexia found herself surrounded and embraced by a room of such unmitigated welcome and personality that it was akin to being yelled at by plum pudding.

Just. What? And yet it makes sense somehow, in the absurd and over the top context of the Parasol Protectorate (words which were finally used in this book).

Conall still needs to grovel.

Rating: 3/5

Changeless, Gail Carriger

Well!

This series continues to be fun, rather absurd, sometimes witty. The pack dynamics are interesting, etc, and this book features characters I already met in the Finishing School series. It’s a little odd to see them as adults, but I rather like seeing Sidheag again, and especially Vieve. I loved the part she had to play and the way queerness is just a part of this world, sex is not dreadfully horrifying (because as most people know, the Victorians weren’t actually, well, Victorian about it), and the way roles in society change because of the supernatural set is quite interesting. (Also interesting where it does not change, but instead fashions and such of the period are explained by the supernatural set’s presence.)

On the other hand, the end of the book just irritates the living daylights out of me. Everyone is entirely unreasonable, nobody bothers to think oh hey, maybe things are different with a preternatural than a human, and any love or trust between Conall and Alexia is just chucked out the window. I hope to goodness that this doesn’t get smoothed over with some nibbling and bodice ripping; I care enough about the characters to be outraged, so I hope Carriger keeps faith with readers and deals with this plotline in a way that does them justice.

Like Soulless and the Finishing School books, it’s fun and easy to read, and while I’m not wildly in love or unable to do without the thought of these books in my life, they’re enjoyable and a little bit addictive for me. Blameless is within arm’s reach right now, and I might just go with that impulse.

Rating: 3/5

Soulless, Gail Carriger

I originally read Soulless a while ago, and I didn’t know much about it — just that people found it a lot of fun. And I think I was still being snobby about overt romance in fiction, before embracing my love of Georgette Heyer and Mary Stewart (not that this is solely romantic fiction in that way, though it does share some of the features, like a plucky single heroine who is a spinster, etc, etc). Anyway, I thought it was kind of fun, but I wasn’t really prepared to enjoy it for what it was.

This time, I knew it was often ridiculous, would make me laugh, included a rather shocking amount of bodice ripping detail, etc. And I was prepared to enjoy it for that — and somehow that made it easier to focus on the bits of world-building around that: hive politics, pack politics, human politics, the changes Carriger’s made to history to fit in vampires and other supernatural creatures. I guess in a way it stays disturbingly imperialistic and so on — Victoria is queen, it’s a golden age, silly America is kind of backwards, etc. But really we don’t see much of the rest of the empire; it stays pretty parochial. Maybe the word should be territorial?

The mystery is terribly easy, though, especially the second time around. That’s not so much any actual clues as the fact that the author slaps a certain element into every couple of scenes. It’s not exactly subtle as a Chekhov’s gun.

Still, I’m happy to read this as light fun; as a friend said before, it’s a cream puff of a book. And that’s fine. And hey, the positivity of the sexuality between Conall and Alexia is actually pretty positive, and it’s nice that Carriger doesn’t milk angst out of it with too much obsessing over Alexia’s reputation, etc.

Rating: 3/5