3/5 stars on Goodreads
Every now and then I come across a book with such an
intriguing premise that I have to purchase it almost without reading. The Paper Magician, the first book in Charlie N. Holmberg’s trilogy of the same name is
such book. I even read the sample, and though it made me raise my eyebrows a
couple of times, I purchased it anyway.
I have no excuses.
I have no excuses.
The Paper Magician by Charlie N. Holmberg |
I love fantasies set in a world identical to ours with changes stemming from the fantasy system of the book, be it modern urban
fantasy or historical. There is special charm to historical fantasy of this
kind. My absolute favourite is Gail Carriger whose detailed knowledge of the
customs and manners of Victorian England make the past come alive in her
historical series. And she’s so good at weaving the fantasy elements in, that I
don’t always question their reality.
The Paper Magician has nothing of that. The author hasn’t
made the slightest attempt to learn about the era she’s set her book in—1901,
to be exact. From the first chapter on, the lack of historical details and the abundance
of modern manners made me assume the book was set in maybe 1960s with some
historical quirks that I took to stem from the fantasy elements. Once the real
era was revealed, the historical inaccuracies became a constant irritation that
repeatedly pushed me out of the narrative.
If the chosen fantasy system is sound, and the differences
to the actual historical era can be explained as a result of that fantasy
system, everything is fine, even if the differences are considerable. Spotting
the differences becomes fun, even. But that requires that the author has a
working knowledge of the time before she starts making the changes.
The turn of the century was the end of Victorian era of
strict moral code and exact manners. Class distinctions were clear, and a
person of means was expected to live in a manner of their class, with servants.
Upper class women didn’t work, nor did they socialise with the opposite sex
unsupervised. Social mobility was almost unheard of. But it was also an era of great technical innovations and the
nascent suffragette movement.
The Paper Magician disregarded all that. We have a society
where women—at least women magicians—are equal to men. They wear their hair
down and use makeup and trousers if they want. They can marry and divorce with
a sign of a paper. The hero, apparently a wealthy man, lives alone in a large
house without any servants, so he cooks, cleans and does his washing himself.
He can share the house with a female apprentice without anyone so much as
raising a brow. The heroine is a poor working class girl who nonetheless has
gone to the same school as the hero as if mixed schools existed, or were available
for poor—a school that resembles remarkably an American high school even though
they’re supposedly in London. Their manners with each other are free, with no
respect given or expected. She cooks him pasta and rice, as if those were
available at the time, and washes his clothes in her spare time, as if it weren’t
a whole day operation to do the washing at that time. There is electricity in
some houses, but no gas light, as the alternative to electric light is always
candles. Every house has its personal telegraph machine. Is it a wonder I
thought the book was set in 1960s with some historical quirks?
On top of that came the Americanisms. The heroine describes
her hair to be the colour of yams, uses inches and centimetres interchangeably,
puts mayonnaise to her cucumber sandwiches, and uses the expression ‘rocks like
a rodeo horse’, to mention just a few. Added to that was the author’s weird attitude to religion, which she probably thought was ‘European’. First Ceony wonders why Emery doesn’t say grace before dinner, and later reflects that she doesn’t really belive in God, and calls the Church of England a sect—which it could be in her world, only it isn’t explained why.
Despite the constant irritation the weird world caused, I
read the whole book. It wasn’t very long, and it was sadly uneven, with no
proper plot development. During the first half of the book, Ceony, the heroine,
learns the ropes of being a paper magician. Much of this is narrated as if from
the outside—told, not shown. There was some attempt at plot development when
Emery, the master magician, goes to a mysterious errand, but before anything
can be built on it, there is a plot twist in form of a surprise attack by a
person mentioned once, with a forbidden magic that hadn’t really been
introduced yet. The attack incapacitates Emery and leaves Ceony the sole agent
for the rest of the book.
The second half is one long scene where Ceony saves the day.
However, it’s also a sort of dream sequence, as it’s a journey to Emery’s past,
and to his hopes and fears. As is quite typical in these sorts of books, Ceony concquers
the foe by being more powerful and capable in magic than her training or skills
allows. And then the book ends.
I didn’t like Ceony much in the beginning. She was rude and
assumed it was her right to snoop. She improved towards the end though. Emery
was a distant figure throughout the first half of the book, and then became a
proper character during the second half, which was ironic, considering that he
wasn’t even present in person.
All in all, the book had great flaws, and had an undeveloped,
uneven plot. But as I managed to read it to the end and be moderately
entertained, I gave it three stars. However, I have no intention to continue
with the series. That I’d decided already before reading the sample chapter of
the next book, where Ceony’s sister goes on a date. My blood pressure couldn’t
handle that.