Why You Need to Read: “Gideon the Ninth”

The Locked Tomb #1: Gideon the Ninth

By: Tasmyn Muir                                                                   Audiobook: 16 hours 50 minutes

Published: September 10, 2019                                              Narrated by: Moira Quirk

Genre: Dark Fantasy/Gothic

            When as a young and disinclined member of the Locked Tomb Gideon had painted her face, she had gone for the bare minimum of death’s-head that the role demanded: dark around the eyes, a bit around the nose, a slack black slash across the lips. Now as Harrowhark gave her a little palm of cracked mirror, she saw that she was painted like the ancient, tottering necromancers of the House: those ghastly and unsettling sages who never seemed to die, just disappear into the long galleries of books and coffins beneath Drearburh. She’d been slapped up to look like a grim-toothed, black-socketed skull, with big black holes on each side of the mandible.

            Gideon said drearily, “I look like a douche,” (5). 

            Hype and marketing for a book is an interesting feat some people find themselves in. Publishers and bookstores—usually through marketers—are paid to advertise such books for sale. Librarians read these books in order to determine whether or not the book(s) are “appropriate for their library and/or community.” And, reviewers—including book critics and bookbloggers—read these books and give an opinion on why each book should or should not be read. There are moments when reviews are controversial because they don’t match with the public’s opinion or the hype surrounding the book. That’s not to say that the book is “bad” or written poorly, but it didn’t meet the expectations of the reader. For me, this is what I felt while reading/listening to Gideon the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir.

            The protagonist is eighteen-year-old Gideon Nav, an indentured servant of the Ninth House, who are the Keepers of the Locked Tomb. Gideon’s life at the Ninth House has been nothing but harsh, neglectful, and mysterious. Readers meet Gideon as she tries to leave the Ninth House for the 33rd time. Instead, Gideon is bribed by Harrowhark Nonagesimus—the daughter and heir to the House of the Ninth—to train to be her cavalier so that she can train to become a Lyctor, one of the Imperial Saints for the Emperor. Gideon is promised her freedom if she does this “for the Ninth,” so Gideon and Harrow travel to the House of the First to train and to serve. There Gideon meets and interacts with: Teacher—one of the Keepers of the First House and servant to the Necrolord Heights; Abigail Pent and her cavalier, Magnus Quinn, of the Fifth House; Coronabeth Tridentarius and her cavalier, Protesilaus Eldoma, of the Seventh House; and several other heirs and their cavaliers from the other Houses, and a lot of skeletons. Gideon—while reluctant to serve the Ninth House—does take advantage of being away from the only place she’s known, leaves the planet, and trains in swordsmanship. Gideon does have to follow Harrowhark’s orders—to an extent—but, through her interactions with the other Houses and the tasks she manages to complete with Harrow, Gideon grows into the person she wants to be without interference from the Ninth House: helpful, caring, and strong (in a fight). Meanwhile, the other Houses learn that there’s more to the Ninth House than its titular role. 

            The plot of the novel is straightforward: The Emperor (of the First House) has called for the heirs of the other eight Houses to train to be Lyctors in order to serve as replacements for the current Lyctors. So, each heir and their cavalier travel to the First House where they are trained and are tested to the best of their knowledge and their strength. The nominated Hands must figure out the “puzzle” of their House with their cavalier so that the Hand can become a Lyctor. All of this is easier said than done, but all of the Hands are willing to do it. There are a few subplots in this novel. The first surrounds what it takes and what it means to be a Lyctor. Harrow wants to become one, and she is an extremely talented necromancer, but the testing to become a Lyctor is a process that must be solved by the Hand and the cavalier working together. This is interesting because Gideon and Harrowhark do NOT get along. So, in order to get what they both want, they’ll have to put up with each other to accomplish the goal. The second subplot is the mystery of the Ninth House and its establishment, from the Locked Tomb to the childhoods of both Gideon and Harrow. The other Houses are more curious by this than Gideon is, but Gideon doesn’t know, and Harrow isn’t going to talk about it to anyone. Or, will she? The last subplot focuses on the strange occurrences that begin to happen to the Hands and their cavaliers. Everyone is interested in new recruits arriving at the First House, right? All of these subplots work alongside the plot of the novel in order to embellish the world, the characters and the current predicament within this novel. 

            The narrative in Gideon the Ninth follows a present sequence from Gideon’s point-of-view. Her stream-of-consciousness gives readers insight into her thoughts (cynical, yet curious) while learning about the other eight Houses, which is something that didn’t interest her until now. The world-building—which includes the history and the culture of each House—comes from Gideon’s learning of them. The fight sequences and the many revelations come from Gideon’s P.O.V. Some of what is presented to her is told as a recitation and not as a flashback. This means that Gideon’s reactions are genuine and relatable, which make her a reliable narrator. The narrative is intriguing and is easy to follow. 

            The style Tasmyn Muir uses in her debut novel follows Gothic romance. In short—and, according to A Glossary of Literary Terms—“The locale was often a gloomy castle furnished with dungeons, subterranean passages, and sliding panels; the typical story focused on the sufferings imposed on an innocent heroine by a cruel and lustful villain, and made bountiful use of ghosts, mysterious disappearances, and other sensational and supernatural occurrences,” (p. 151). Fans of Frankenstein by Mary Shelley, The Monk by Matthew Gregory Lewis, Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë, and Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë are familiar with this genre of literature. However, I’m saying that Gideon the Ninth has elements of a gothic novel, NOT that it is one! The “villain” isn’t lustful, the supernatural occurrences—necromancy—is part of the world, and while it does have dungeons and secret passages, the First House isn’t described as being gloomy (when compared to the Ninth House). These gothic elements enhance the story the author is telling, which she does very well. The mood in this novel is anticipation. The summons from the First House does not only contain orders to attend, but also a chance to serve the Emperor, which is something the heirs are taught to do from childhood; and, their cavaliers get to serve their Houses. The tone in this book is dread. In a world where necromancy is the magic used and the setting is gothic, readers should expect more than a few unpleasant things to occur throughout the narrative. 

            I listened to the audiobook, which was narrated by Moira Quirk. She does a great job with narrating the story, voicing the various characters, and with the pronunciation of the characters’ names. I would not have been able to pronounce ANY of those names on my own, so to say that the audiobook was a huge help would be an understatement. The narration kept me engaged with the story as well.

            The appeal for Gideon the Ninth have been positive. Not only has the book, and the author, received a lot of fan and critical acclaim, but also has been nominated for several awards including the Nebula and the Hugo Awards. I can see how this book can become part of the (dark) fantasy canon and how it will have lasting appeal. However, this book neither was worth the hype nor was the best debut novel I’ve read. I’m not the only bookblogger who feels this way about this book. Then again, I’m not saying that you shouldn’t read it. The story itself kept my interest to the end; enough so that I want to read the sequel, Harrow the Ninth, when it is released in September 2020. This book wasn’t my favorite one, but my interest is piqued to where I’m okay with rereading parts of Gideon the Ninth in order to understand the sequel.

            Gideon the Ninth is an ambitious debut which hits enough marks to make for a good and fun reading experience. While I did not enjoy this book as much as other bookbloggers, the story and the world intrigued me enough to finish this book and wanting to read the sequel. Please understand that just because I didn’t enjoy this book doesn’t mean that you’ll feel the same way. That being said, if you want to read a story about necromancers and sword fighting, with gothic elements, then this book is for you.

My Rating: Read It (3.5 out of 5). 

Works Cited 

Abrams, M.H., and Geoffrey Galt Harpham. A Glossary of Literary Terms. 10th ed., Wadsworth, 

            2012. 

Speculative Fiction: A Label for the Growing Spectrum of the Genres: Fantasy, Science Fiction & Horror

*My 100th Blog Post!*

For the past year in which I have devoted more time to working on my blog, I have gained a larger audience—followers, readers and other supporters—than I thought possible. Remember, even the most successful bloggers and vloggers start out as “small channels” and are thankful for those who support them. I feel the same way. Knowing that you all have taken the time to read, to comment, to subscribe/follow, and to share my content is a great feeling. I’m extremely grateful for all of you, and it’s because of you all I know what I’m doing is being appreciated by the macrocosm. 

            One of several topics I’ve been discussing with other fans, readers, bloggers and vloggers is the concept of genre and the limitations its definition bestows upon it. The notion that genres can and should be placed within “fixed” classifications is similar to the concept that gender is binary—which, it isn’t! Over the last 100 years, the genres have become more ubiquitous and more successful due to books written by L. Frank Baum, J.R.R. Tolkien, C.S. Lewis, T.H. White, J.K. Rowling, Frank Herbert, Arthur C. Clarke, Octavia Butler, Samuel R. Delany, Ursula K. LeGuin, Shirley Jackson, Isabel Allende, Haruki Murakami, Alan Moore, Stephen King, Anne Rice, etc. And, due to movies such as: The Invasion of the Body Snatchers, E.T., the Extraterrestrial, Star Wars, Star Trek, Pan’s Labyrinth, Akira, etc. Toward the end of the 20th century, other formats of literature and visual entertainment such as comics, graphic novels, manga, video games and music were becoming more popular and expansive. Imports from around the world—i.e. Japan, India, Spain, etc.—have presented popular works of these genres to fans as well. 

            Before the 2000s—I want to say around the 1970s—an emergence of works were presented and released to the public. Besides the Harry Potter Phenomenon and The Lord of the Rings movies, there was Buffy, the Vampire Slayer, The Matrix, and the continued book releases by Stephen King, Anne Rice and Robert Jordan. In addition, video games were growing in popularity and in addition to Mario, Sonic and Zelda there were Final Fantasy, Resident Evil and Shin Megami Tensei. Even those who weren’t reading the books, watching the TV shows or movies, or playing the video games were exposed to fantasy, science fiction and horror. Yet, why did some people prefer Harry Potter over The Lord of the Rings? What was it about Laurell K. Hamilton’s books that had some readers prefer her books over Anne Rice’s? What is it about Shin Megami Tensei, which has several spinoffs—including Persona—that has more of a cult fan base that players find appealing? 

            What I’m getting at is: how would you describe a book like The Northern Lights/The Golden Compass, the Dragon Quest video game series (besides Japanese role-playing games, or JRPGs), or even the Batman comics? Yes, one is a Young Adult novel, one is a JRPG, and the last is a superhero comic book series; but, aren’t there other genres to classify these works besides their marketing ones? Philip Pullman’s His Dark Materials Trilogy is a blend of fantasy, science (fiction), religion and philosophy—what did you expect from an Oxford professor? Dragon Quest is a JRPG with elements from the fantasy and adventure genres. Batman—one of the oldest and greatest superhero series of all-time—is a gritty and dark story about a traumatized man who uses his wealth and his wits to go up against the most dangerous criminals in his city. Nowadays, we would consider Batman to be a psychological thriller superhero series with elements of grimdark. Then again, with the recent success of the TV shows Game of Thrones and The Walking Dead, there were many non-readers and fans who said things like, “I don’t like fantasy, but I love Game of Thrones,” or “I don’t like zombies, but The Walking Dead is a great show,” etc. Yes, those shows were media adaptations, which are examples of fantasy and dystopia books that “divert” from “traditional” or “familiar” tropes. However, there are fans of those tropes who are not interested in neither the TV show nor the books. So, why are those the exceptions? They are NOT!

            Speculative fiction is a term that is being used more and more in order to describe literature and media that fall under the “traditional” genres of science fiction, fantasy, horror and comics. According to Marek Oziewicz, speculative fiction, “includes fantasy, science fiction, and horror, but also their derivatives, hybrids, and cognate genres like the gothic, dystopia, weird fiction, post-apocalyptic fiction, ghost stories, superhero tales, alternate history, steampunk, slipstream, magic realism, fractured fairy tales and more,” (3). In other words, speculative fiction includes: urban fantasy, mythological fantasy, zombies, paranormal, space operas, metaphysical, silkpunk, occult, military, historical, romance, etc., etc. Any and all of the genres and subgenres makeup this term.

            So why do some people—authors, writers, readers, critics, academics, fans—use this term? It’s because there are times when a medium either has more than two genres associated within it or displays aspects of speculative fiction that doesn’t fall under any of the “fixed” genres. For example, the Super Mario Bros. franchise is a video game series classified under both “action/adventure” and “platformer,” but could it be categorized in the fantasy genre due to the levels being in an imaginary world, or could it fall under horror or paranormal due to the ghosts and the skeletons, or even science fiction, especially in the context of the Super Mario Galaxy games? In this case, the term speculative fiction would fit best for this gaming franchise. I should mention that I’m not the one who should be recategorizing video games. Then again, this is proof that the term speculative fiction is becoming both recognizable and interchangeable. 

            Speculative fiction seems to become the more acceptable them to use when explaining works and forms of non-mimetic fiction without listing all of the many subgenres associated with it. Recent examples include The Broken Earth Trilogy by N.K. Jemisin and Gods of Jade and Shadow by Silvia Moreno-Garcia. The first has been categorized under fantasy, science fiction, dystopian literature and magic realism (the last one was on Amazon); and, the second has been categorized under fantasy, mythology, magic realism and historical fiction. Which is easier: listing all of those genres and subgenres in a description, or saying speculative fiction containing elements of certain genres and subgenres such as: a story about the end of the world and Mayan Gods during the Jazz Age? While speculative fiction is an umbrella term, many of us have been using it as a shortcut to explain a collection of books, films and video games. 

            Another factor surrounding speculative fiction concerns education and academia. How many of you remember reading Edgar Allan Poe and/or Turn of the Screw by Henry James in school and in college? How many of you remember reading The House of the Spirits, One Hundred Years of Solitude, or Haroun and the Sea of Stories in school or in college? And, how many of you remember reading one of the many dystopian books: Lord of the Flies, A Handmaiden’s Tale, 1984, Fahrenheit 451, The Giver, Brave New World, etc., in school and in college? Now, how many fantasy, fairy tales, and myths and legends were assigned to you after primary/elementary school? Keep in mind, there are courses and electives about these genres in college, but not everyone gets to take those classes (I was lucky enough to do so). Without going into too much detail, I’ve had disputes about fantasy literature with a few academic professors. Some of them believe that fantasy has no place in higher education except for in Children’s and Adolescent Literature (i.e. teaching, library science). However, scholars are responsible for some of the most recognized works in fantasy. Lewis Carroll, J.R.R. Tolkien, C.S. Lewis and Philip Pullman were Oxford professors. In addition, there are academic scholars who study and write books and articles about fantasy, science fiction and horror such as: Edward James, Farah Mendlesohn, John Grant, Nnedi Okorafor, John Clute, Jack Zipes and Tzvetan Todorov. This history and the study of these genres are just as essential as reading the fiction. I hate to say it, but speculative fiction seems to be the “safer” and the “more acceptable” term to use when it comes to discussing these genres. 

            So, why do I use the term speculative fiction? My simplest answer is because it signifies all of the genres I enjoy to read, to watch, to write and to game the most. Saying speculative fiction instead of the longlist of genres and subgenres is the easiest and the quickest way to describe certain works of media. If a book can be categorized in more than one genre or subgenre, then why not save the breakdown for a discussion with others in a fandom, or with authors and publishers? Most important, using the term speculative fiction does not limit the story of any medium to one genre. It allows a fan of a metaphysical book to say that “there’s elements of fantasy in this story,” or “the religion in this book is based on the myths and the history of this ancient civilization.” Speculative fiction is a term that allows an audience to observe the broader spectrum of a medium with similar beginnings and interconnecting styles of storytelling. However, there will continue to be moments where a book is categorized as “hard sci-fi,” a video game is of the “horror” genre, and Disney continues to fracture fairy tales. This is the new Golden Age of Speculative Fiction so we might as well enjoy everything that is presented to us while opening the doors for an open interpretation. 

            Thank you for reading my post(s), following my blog and my social media pages! Here’s to many more posts in the future and to several open discussions! Please like and comment here or on my other posts; and, be sure to check out the following references about our favorite genre(s). 

                                                                        References

James, Edward and Farah Mendlesohn, editors. The Cambridge Companion to Fantasy. Cambridge University Press, 2012.  

James, Edward and Farah Mendlesohn, editors. The Cambridge Companion to Science Fiction. Cambridge University Press, 2003. 

Martin, Philip. A Guide to Fantasy Literature: Thoughts on Stories of Wonder & Enchantment. Crickhollow Books, 2009.

Oziewicz, Marek. “Speculative Fiction.” Oxford Research Encyclopedia of Literature, March 2017, p.1-22. doi: 10.1093/acrefore/9780190201098.013.78

Stableford, Brian. The A to Z of Fantasy Literature. The Scarecrow Press, Inc., 2009.