![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
There’s a war going on in heaven and angels are the toxic fall-out. But House of Shattered Wings isn’t about heaven or the war there or even what any particular angel did to be cast out, it’s about what happens on Earth when you have a regular rain (sic – a regular reign as well) of amnesiac beings whose substance is so potent with magic that their very existence destabilizes human society. But the book also isn’t particularly about those effects, but about the interactions of a particular set of powerful households in a post-magical-apocalypse Paris corresponding fuzzily to some portion of the mid-20th century. The appearance of a new Fallen—innocent, ignorant, and vulnerable to being exploited by almost anyone she encounters—and the unexpected intrusion of a supernatural being of an entirely different sort inadvertently trigger a hidden curse with the potential to further destabilize the delicate balance of power among the Houses of Paris.
The premise is (at least to this reader) refreshingly novel, leaving a lot of room for imaginative worldbuilding that neither relies on, nor is hampered by, an existing corpus of tropes. (Other than tropes involving the cosmology of various cultures, where familiarity can give a leg up on following the character motivations.) One of the things I have loved in previous works by de Bodard that I’ve encountered (specifically, the Nebula-winning “The Waiting Stars”) is her willingness to have confidence that her readers can keep up with the fictional world as it is revealed without a lot of narrative hand-holding and explanations. This comes to the fore when HoSW throws in a few mystery and horror layers on top of the fantasy and the reader is enticed to try to solve the missing bits just half a step ahead of the several primary characters. The magic that drives the plot is vividly realized and not at all mechanical. We’re see enough to believe in it without feeling like the gears are showing.
The characters are hampered in that none of them has the full picture of what’s going on. In the hands of some authors this could turn into the sort of “idiot plot” where everything would be solved if the characters would just talk to each other. But here we have an array of viewpoint characters who have powerful and believable reasons to distrust each other, even in pursuit of parallel goals. This is an especially delicate balance in the case of Philippe, who holds the most essential clues and has the strongest reasons to hate and distrust the entire angelic and French power structures for reasons embedded in a colonialist past/present that is reflected in both the mortal and immortal realms.
I feel like this review is a bit disjointed. Let’s jump to my two “bonus points” factors. HoSW gets a bonus point for “does this world include queer people?” (Although, given the somewhat arbitrary relationship of fallen angels to human gender, it would be far odder if real-world gender dynamics weren’t subverted.) The book also gets a bonus point for “did I lose track of my gym workout while reading?” (I was very late getting home from the gym the day I finished the book.) The characters were all nuanced and multi-dimensional and there were several I’d love to follow into other stories. (There are, in fact, a number of short stories set in the same world, which are available for free as e-books.)
There were only a few places where the setting felt a bit thin. This is very much a story about the powers that move and control this world, and those lesser characters in their immediate orbit. While one may assume that there is a significant population of ordinary people on whose backs the economy runs, we don’t really see the evidence of it. The Households dominated by the Fallen are urban and seem focused on consumption rather than production. Given the bits of the world we’re shown, it’s hard to tell where the food and clothing and all the other necessities of life are actually coming from. (Not entirely from scavenging pre-apocalyptic leftovers, one presumes, though we see that being done.)
All in all, a book I strongly recommend, with the minor caveat that those who feel uneasy at the description “her willingness to have confidence that her readers can keep up with the fictional world as it is revealed” may have harder going.
The premise is (at least to this reader) refreshingly novel, leaving a lot of room for imaginative worldbuilding that neither relies on, nor is hampered by, an existing corpus of tropes. (Other than tropes involving the cosmology of various cultures, where familiarity can give a leg up on following the character motivations.) One of the things I have loved in previous works by de Bodard that I’ve encountered (specifically, the Nebula-winning “The Waiting Stars”) is her willingness to have confidence that her readers can keep up with the fictional world as it is revealed without a lot of narrative hand-holding and explanations. This comes to the fore when HoSW throws in a few mystery and horror layers on top of the fantasy and the reader is enticed to try to solve the missing bits just half a step ahead of the several primary characters. The magic that drives the plot is vividly realized and not at all mechanical. We’re see enough to believe in it without feeling like the gears are showing.
The characters are hampered in that none of them has the full picture of what’s going on. In the hands of some authors this could turn into the sort of “idiot plot” where everything would be solved if the characters would just talk to each other. But here we have an array of viewpoint characters who have powerful and believable reasons to distrust each other, even in pursuit of parallel goals. This is an especially delicate balance in the case of Philippe, who holds the most essential clues and has the strongest reasons to hate and distrust the entire angelic and French power structures for reasons embedded in a colonialist past/present that is reflected in both the mortal and immortal realms.
I feel like this review is a bit disjointed. Let’s jump to my two “bonus points” factors. HoSW gets a bonus point for “does this world include queer people?” (Although, given the somewhat arbitrary relationship of fallen angels to human gender, it would be far odder if real-world gender dynamics weren’t subverted.) The book also gets a bonus point for “did I lose track of my gym workout while reading?” (I was very late getting home from the gym the day I finished the book.) The characters were all nuanced and multi-dimensional and there were several I’d love to follow into other stories. (There are, in fact, a number of short stories set in the same world, which are available for free as e-books.)
There were only a few places where the setting felt a bit thin. This is very much a story about the powers that move and control this world, and those lesser characters in their immediate orbit. While one may assume that there is a significant population of ordinary people on whose backs the economy runs, we don’t really see the evidence of it. The Households dominated by the Fallen are urban and seem focused on consumption rather than production. Given the bits of the world we’re shown, it’s hard to tell where the food and clothing and all the other necessities of life are actually coming from. (Not entirely from scavenging pre-apocalyptic leftovers, one presumes, though we see that being done.)
All in all, a book I strongly recommend, with the minor caveat that those who feel uneasy at the description “her willingness to have confidence that her readers can keep up with the fictional world as it is revealed” may have harder going.
