layayayle's review against another edition
adventurous
challenging
dark
mysterious
tense
fast-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
5.0
Content Warnings
Graphic: Blood, Terminal illness, Chronic illness, Toxic friendship, and Violence
mariacalvo's review against another edition
adventurous
dark
mysterious
sad
tense
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
5.0
5⭐
dios mío este libro ha sido una puta montaña rusa, hacia muchísimo tiempo q no disfrutaba tanto con 1 libro
Spoiler
se supone q debo seguir con mi vida sabiendo q gideon ya no existe fisicamente??????????dios mío este libro ha sido una puta montaña rusa, hacia muchísimo tiempo q no disfrutaba tanto con 1 libro
crimsonblade's review against another edition
adventurous
dark
emotional
mysterious
sad
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
5.0
megapolisomancy's review against another edition
4.0
In some sort of necromantic science-fantasy world, ten thousand years into the reign of "the King Undying, the kindly Prince of Death," Gideon Nav, orphan and unwilling ward of a death cult on an isolated planet, "packed her sword, her shoes, and her dirty magazines, and she escaped from the House of the Ninth." (1) You might, like me, wonder where Gideon - a teenager raised without friends or companions in a monastery with only two other people her age; a monastery, moreover, on a planet in the remote reaches of the solar system, utterly isolated and viewed with suspicion or disgusted awe by the rest of society - gets her hands on pornography, but don't. This isn't that kind of book. Style and mood are paramount here, and that's a nice shorthand to let us know what Gideon is about. It's not quite Symbolist, but it's closer to that than to genre fiction with hard and fast realist rules.
At any rate, Gideon's escape attempt fails (as have all 86 of her previous attempts) and instead she's waylaid by her nemesis, Harrowhawk Nonagesimus, Reverend Daughter of the Ninth House, into acting as her cavalier, a kind of bodyguard/champion/manservant, as Harrow answers a call from the Emperor for "postulants to the position of lyctor" (39). Lyctors are, in effect, the Emperor's own cavaliers, super-powered generals and champions in the war that the Emperor has been fighting ever since he resurrected all of humanity (or, at least, all of the humans in the Nine Houses) 10,000 years ago.
All of the Nine Houses (barring the First, which is the Emperor's) send their representative necromancer and cavalier in response to the summons. Arriving at the mysterious (and mostly empty) mansion of Canaan House, home of the First, everyone expects a rather dry series of scholastic tests, but instead they are given only the instruction not to open locked doors without permission, and then left to their own devices. They are totally in the dark, and Gideon is especially in the dark, and the reader is especially left in the dark.
This was, I have to admit, one of the most frustrating books I've ever read. I spent the first half of it annoyed by the humor, confused by the cast of characters, exasperated by the pacing, and trying desperately to find some sort of context to latch onto. I almost set it aside several times toward the beginning, but kept with it because Muir was doing such a good job of conveying a specific mood and aesthetic. By the end, I was absolutely enthralled and can't wait for the sequel. Gideon the Ninth is a complicated piece of work whose rough edges and annoying sense of humor conceal an incredible inner depth. So is Gideon the Ninth.
Almost all of the necromancers and cavaliers gathered at Canaan House are teenagers, which does make the hyper-contemporary humor feel true to life. It was grating at first but later grew on me, or maybe I just learned to ignore it (or maybe I decided it was all worth it after the maelstrom of references finally included the Simpsons). Sure, it's goofy, and very internet-specific -- "nope" used as a verb, "a huge bag of ass," "a one-way trip to No Town," unnecessary uses of "like," etc -- but Muir commits. Fine. It wasn't for me, but she is a good stylist and delivers a consistent and well-written tone throughout. It's also very true to Gideon's character, lovable pain in the ass that she is: "Nothing happened for a good thirty seconds. Gideon was dying to make a joke, just to get a reaction." (363) When she can no longer contain herself and the joke finally comes later on the same page, it's "That's what she said." These kinds of references abound, to The Office, The Simpsons, Pretty Woman, The Bible, memes, and presumably all sorts of other mass culture I missed.
Whether or not this humor speaks to you, Muir is an assured stylist, particularly for a first-time novelist. The dialogue is snappy and believable throughout, and manages to sell quippy banter without every character coming across as a snarky asshole. She's fond of the use of repetition for emphasis and/or comedic effect:
These reclaimed robes were like her normal clothes, dour and black, but better made, dourer, and blacker. (62)
I, too, am fond of the use of repetition for emphasis and/or comedic effect, so Muir and I aren't entirely off base with one another in terms of humor.
She is, as a matter of fact, downright transcendent at times (mild spoiler in this passage):
Everyone else --the Second House with their brass buttons; the twins of the Third and their now-bouffant cavalier; the Fourth teenagers, gimlet-eyed; and the Fifth asleep forever in the mortuary; the Sixth in grey and the mismatched Eighth; and the Ninth, with Harrow roused and tight lipped in her spare habit--was accounted for.(256)
This small army of characters, once I learned to tell them all apart, were colorful and well-drawn. Standouts include Dulcinea Septimus, consumptive heiress straight out of an Old Gothic tome, Colum Asht, honor-bound to defend a man who treats him with contempt, and my favorite: Camilla Hect, laconic bodyguard of the Sixth, who "looked less like a cavalier than an off-duty librarian." (261)
Aside from our main antagonistic duo, these characters are introduced all at once when Gideon and Harrow arrive at Canaan House, and then don't do a lot for the first half of the book. Muir clearly wanted us to have time to get to know them before the action starts. For me, though, it's only after the action starts that I started having a clear idea of who was who. I could've used some more defining characteristics for the Houses, although I did appreciate that each scion has a last name derived from the Latin for their number (ie Nonagesimus for the Ninth, Pent for the Fifth) and some of the houses have clear aspects (the jocks, the nerds, the goths, the weirdo cultists, our heroes the other weirdo cultists). Some supplementary material does spell out the differences a bit more clearly, and I think part of the problem is the simple fact that they are numbered rather than named. Maybe it's the way my brain is wired.
Some of this mystery is due to Gideon - perceptive in some matters, thick as a rock in others, with her background of course she's ignorant of the wider world and the relationships among the other Houses. She doesn't care at all about the intrigues that come with being a cavalier, for that matter. She's not a schemer, she's a bruiser, a beefy, butch meathead in aviators and crappily-applied corpsepaint (the cover, beautiful and otherwise pitch perfect, renders her much, much too petite). The kind of glib summary of this book is "lesbian necromancers in space" (and there appears to be no traces of homophobia or misogyny in this society, thankfully) there's not much romance here, and no sex outside of the PG-13 references to Gideon's skin mags. There was one scene that I interpreted as a chaste fade to black to avoid actively describing a sex scene, but it appears few others interpreted it that way.
Gideon's search for belonging is the obvious heart of the novel, but loyalty is the most important thematic concern (if you separate the two, which the novel suggests you should not). Gideon and Harrow share a deep lifelong hatred, but you won't be surprised to hear things get complicated, and the relationships between the dyads of the other houses give a variety of examples of other kinds of loyalty - earned or not, compulsory or freely given, reciprocal or one-sided - and as the houses interact with one another and people start dying off mysteriously, well, these also get complicated.
Gideon would seem to be a classic audience surrogate for genre fiction, a consummate outsider working her way into a secondary-world society, but Muir never does much to fill in the gaps. I'm fully on board with authors making us work to understand their setting, but part of the problem here is that I was never sure how to distinguish between what the characters didn't know, what I didn't know, what Muir just hadn't bothered mentioning, what Gideon just didn't care to differentiate, etc. I spent most of the book suspecting one character was the Emperor in disguise because it kind of seemed like no one had ever seen or interacted with the Emperor before until a sidelong mention of a portrait hanging in one room put paid to that theory. Who the empire is fighting a war against is a mystery dangled in front of us multiple times - we are meant to wonder about that, and not have an answer currently, although presumably Muir does. The emotional beats in the second half of the novel (and what beats they are!) connect, but they would have hit so much harder with a greater sense of context. For that matter, some of the convolutions of the plot don't quite hang together as-is, but it remains to be seen if the future context of the sequels ameliorates that.
You might have noticed the Bible as the odd one out in the above list of references, and it stands out even in-text, italicized where none of the others were ("The land that shall receive thee dying, in the same will I die: and there will I be buried. The Lord do so and so to me, and add more also, if aught but death part me and thee." - 438). With the world and history of the novel very deliberately obscured, the number of Biblical resonances seem particularly noteworthy - the Emperor is "our Resurrector" having brought all of humanity (or all of the Nine Houses, at any rate) back to life 10,000 years before the events of the novel, the Ninth House pray "the rock is never rolled away" (42) from the mysterious tomb they guard, Dulcinea tells Gideon that "[o]nce someone dies, we can't grasp at them anymore, thank God!--except for one person, and he's very far from here, I think." (292-3) One assumes she's referencing the Emperor, "the Lord our Kindly God," but the distinction between him and God that Dulcinea makes is a surprising one. The bulk of the novel takes place at Canaan House, the main character, of course, is Gideon, and self-sacrifice on behalf of others is one of those tricky issues of loyalty the narrative raises. Presumably more can be made of these connections once the world is explicated further.
Bring on Harrow the Ninth.
At any rate, Gideon's escape attempt fails (as have all 86 of her previous attempts) and instead she's waylaid by her nemesis, Harrowhawk Nonagesimus, Reverend Daughter of the Ninth House, into acting as her cavalier, a kind of bodyguard/champion/manservant, as Harrow answers a call from the Emperor for "postulants to the position of lyctor" (39). Lyctors are, in effect, the Emperor's own cavaliers, super-powered generals and champions in the war that the Emperor has been fighting ever since he resurrected all of humanity (or, at least, all of the humans in the Nine Houses) 10,000 years ago.
All of the Nine Houses (barring the First, which is the Emperor's) send their representative necromancer and cavalier in response to the summons. Arriving at the mysterious (and mostly empty) mansion of Canaan House, home of the First, everyone expects a rather dry series of scholastic tests, but instead they are given only the instruction not to open locked doors without permission, and then left to their own devices. They are totally in the dark, and Gideon is especially in the dark, and the reader is especially left in the dark.
This was, I have to admit, one of the most frustrating books I've ever read. I spent the first half of it annoyed by the humor, confused by the cast of characters, exasperated by the pacing, and trying desperately to find some sort of context to latch onto. I almost set it aside several times toward the beginning, but kept with it because Muir was doing such a good job of conveying a specific mood and aesthetic. By the end, I was absolutely enthralled and can't wait for the sequel. Gideon the Ninth is a complicated piece of work whose rough edges and annoying sense of humor conceal an incredible inner depth. So is Gideon the Ninth.
Almost all of the necromancers and cavaliers gathered at Canaan House are teenagers, which does make the hyper-contemporary humor feel true to life. It was grating at first but later grew on me, or maybe I just learned to ignore it (or maybe I decided it was all worth it after the maelstrom of references finally included the Simpsons). Sure, it's goofy, and very internet-specific -- "nope" used as a verb, "a huge bag of ass," "a one-way trip to No Town," unnecessary uses of "like," etc -- but Muir commits. Fine. It wasn't for me, but she is a good stylist and delivers a consistent and well-written tone throughout. It's also very true to Gideon's character, lovable pain in the ass that she is: "Nothing happened for a good thirty seconds. Gideon was dying to make a joke, just to get a reaction." (363) When she can no longer contain herself and the joke finally comes later on the same page, it's "That's what she said." These kinds of references abound, to The Office, The Simpsons, Pretty Woman, The Bible, memes, and presumably all sorts of other mass culture I missed.
Whether or not this humor speaks to you, Muir is an assured stylist, particularly for a first-time novelist. The dialogue is snappy and believable throughout, and manages to sell quippy banter without every character coming across as a snarky asshole. She's fond of the use of repetition for emphasis and/or comedic effect:
These reclaimed robes were like her normal clothes, dour and black, but better made, dourer, and blacker. (62)
I, too, am fond of the use of repetition for emphasis and/or comedic effect, so Muir and I aren't entirely off base with one another in terms of humor.
She is, as a matter of fact, downright transcendent at times (mild spoiler in this passage):
Everyone else --the Second House with their brass buttons; the twins of the Third and their now-bouffant cavalier; the Fourth teenagers, gimlet-eyed; and the Fifth asleep forever in the mortuary; the Sixth in grey and the mismatched Eighth; and the Ninth, with Harrow roused and tight lipped in her spare habit--was accounted for.(256)
This small army of characters, once I learned to tell them all apart, were colorful and well-drawn. Standouts include Dulcinea Septimus, consumptive heiress straight out of an Old Gothic tome, Colum Asht, honor-bound to defend a man who treats him with contempt, and my favorite: Camilla Hect, laconic bodyguard of the Sixth, who "looked less like a cavalier than an off-duty librarian." (261)
Aside from our main antagonistic duo, these characters are introduced all at once when Gideon and Harrow arrive at Canaan House, and then don't do a lot for the first half of the book. Muir clearly wanted us to have time to get to know them before the action starts. For me, though, it's only after the action starts that I started having a clear idea of who was who. I could've used some more defining characteristics for the Houses, although I did appreciate that each scion has a last name derived from the Latin for their number (ie Nonagesimus for the Ninth, Pent for the Fifth) and some of the houses have clear aspects (the jocks, the nerds, the goths, the weirdo cultists, our heroes the other weirdo cultists). Some supplementary material does spell out the differences a bit more clearly, and I think part of the problem is the simple fact that they are numbered rather than named. Maybe it's the way my brain is wired.
Some of this mystery is due to Gideon - perceptive in some matters, thick as a rock in others, with her background of course she's ignorant of the wider world and the relationships among the other Houses. She doesn't care at all about the intrigues that come with being a cavalier, for that matter. She's not a schemer, she's a bruiser, a beefy, butch meathead in aviators and crappily-applied corpsepaint (the cover, beautiful and otherwise pitch perfect, renders her much, much too petite). The kind of glib summary of this book is "lesbian necromancers in space" (and there appears to be no traces of homophobia or misogyny in this society, thankfully) there's not much romance here, and no sex outside of the PG-13 references to Gideon's skin mags. There was one scene that I interpreted as a chaste fade to black to avoid actively describing a sex scene, but it appears few others interpreted it that way.
Gideon's search for belonging is the obvious heart of the novel, but loyalty is the most important thematic concern (if you separate the two, which the novel suggests you should not). Gideon and Harrow share a deep lifelong hatred, but you won't be surprised to hear things get complicated, and the relationships between the dyads of the other houses give a variety of examples of other kinds of loyalty - earned or not, compulsory or freely given, reciprocal or one-sided - and as the houses interact with one another and people start dying off mysteriously, well, these also get complicated.
Gideon would seem to be a classic audience surrogate for genre fiction, a consummate outsider working her way into a secondary-world society, but Muir never does much to fill in the gaps. I'm fully on board with authors making us work to understand their setting, but part of the problem here is that I was never sure how to distinguish between what the characters didn't know, what I didn't know, what Muir just hadn't bothered mentioning, what Gideon just didn't care to differentiate, etc. I spent most of the book suspecting one character was the Emperor in disguise because it kind of seemed like no one had ever seen or interacted with the Emperor before until a sidelong mention of a portrait hanging in one room put paid to that theory. Who the empire is fighting a war against is a mystery dangled in front of us multiple times - we are meant to wonder about that, and not have an answer currently, although presumably Muir does. The emotional beats in the second half of the novel (and what beats they are!) connect, but they would have hit so much harder with a greater sense of context. For that matter, some of the convolutions of the plot don't quite hang together as-is, but it remains to be seen if the future context of the sequels ameliorates that.
You might have noticed the Bible as the odd one out in the above list of references, and it stands out even in-text, italicized where none of the others were ("The land that shall receive thee dying, in the same will I die: and there will I be buried. The Lord do so and so to me, and add more also, if aught but death part me and thee." - 438). With the world and history of the novel very deliberately obscured, the number of Biblical resonances seem particularly noteworthy - the Emperor is "our Resurrector" having brought all of humanity (or all of the Nine Houses, at any rate) back to life 10,000 years before the events of the novel, the Ninth House pray "the rock is never rolled away" (42) from the mysterious tomb they guard, Dulcinea tells Gideon that "[o]nce someone dies, we can't grasp at them anymore, thank God!--except for one person, and he's very far from here, I think." (292-3) One assumes she's referencing the Emperor, "the Lord our Kindly God," but the distinction between him and God that Dulcinea makes is a surprising one. The bulk of the novel takes place at Canaan House, the main character, of course, is Gideon, and self-sacrifice on behalf of others is one of those tricky issues of loyalty the narrative raises. Presumably more can be made of these connections once the world is explicated further.
Bring on Harrow the Ninth.
lilsmidgee's review against another edition
adventurous
challenging
dark
emotional
funny
hopeful
mysterious
sad
tense
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? It's complicated
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
5.0
polyphemus_23's review against another edition
I can see why some people love this book. I am not one of them. For one, this is really YA and should be marketed as such, not as adult fiction. I see a lot of praise for the snarky humor of this book, but IMO this is only funny if you find things like the repeat use of the word “titties” and your mom jokes funny. I cannot buy into this really compelling world the author seems to be building while characters are using phrases like “step off”. If you enjoy YA sci-fi fantasy I think this could be great.
rmhughes's review against another edition
Was avoiding reading because I wasn’t interested by the plot. May pick up in the future though.
cc55's review against another edition
adventurous
funny
mysterious
fast-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
4.0
bassboostedfishie's review against another edition
5.0
no other book has managed to stick with me enough for me to just randomly remember things that happened in this book and grow randomly emotional about it.
either you love or hate this book, and I can’t blame you for hating it because it starts of pretty inaccessible with the first chapter throwing so much jargon at you that it’s like almost unreadable, but as you adjust and get further into the plot the book is so much of a delight and becomes so much easier to read. if you’re on the fence about reading this book or struggling through its growing pains PLEASE continue reading, this book is definitely worth the effort
either you love or hate this book, and I can’t blame you for hating it because it starts of pretty inaccessible with the first chapter throwing so much jargon at you that it’s like almost unreadable, but as you adjust and get further into the plot the book is so much of a delight and becomes so much easier to read. if you’re on the fence about reading this book or struggling through its growing pains PLEASE continue reading, this book is definitely worth the effort
geekgirlpsych's review against another edition
emotional
funny
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
5.0