Gideon the Ninth
2019
- fiction, science fiction, action & adventure
- fiction, fantasy, epic
- fiction, fantasy, dark fantasy
- paranormal
- necromancy
- lgbtq science fiction & fantasy
- women authors
- lesbians
- butch lesbians
- horror
The story
"The Emperor needs necromancers. The Ninth Necromancer needs a swordswoman. Gideon has a sword, some dirty magazines, and no more time for undead nonsense. Tamsyn Muir’s Gideon the Ninth unveils a solar system of swordplay, cut-throat politics, and lesbian necromancers. Her characters leap off the page, as skillfully animated as arcane revenants. The result is a heart-pounding epic science fantasy. Brought up by unfriendly, ossifying nuns, ancient retainers, and countless skeletons, Gideon is ready to abandon a life of servitude and an afterlife as a reanimated corpse. She packs up her sword, her shoes, and her dirty magazines, and prepares to launch her daring escape. But her childhood nemesis won’t set her free without a service. Harrowhark Nonagesimus, Reverend Daughter of the Ninth House and bone witch extraordinaire, has been summoned into action. The Emperor has invited the heirs to each of his loyal Houses to a deadly trial of wits and skill. If Harrowhark succeeds she will be become an immortal, all-powerful servant of the Resurrection, but no necromancer can ascend without their cavalier. Without Gideon’s sword, Harrow will fail, and the Ninth House will die. Of course, some things are better left dead."
What it’s like
Bleak, gallows-funny and gleefully gothic, with a crumbling, bone-strewn world rendered in long, claustrophobic corridors, candle-lit crypts and sudden bursts of vivid, bloody sword-work. The prose is a sardonic, sprawling voice that swings between deadpan asides and lush, decaying description, so the reading feels like being dragged through a mausoleum by a foul-mouthed, impatient narrator who is also very funny. Expect tangled, uneven pacing: slow, dense stretches of hushed dread and puzzle-box clues, then abrupt, chaotic set pieces that come in hot. Violence is frequent and graphic, with plenty of gore, corpses, skeletal horror and sudden deaths; there is also sexual content and some crude humour, all handled bluntly rather than tenderly. The emotional core is a prickly, reluctant partnership between two stubborn young women bound by resentment, loyalty and grudging affection. This suits late-night reading with a strong stomach, fans of goth and gallows humour, and readers who want queer, irreverent, bone-dry dark fantasy with a space-opera sheen.
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