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A review by beforeviolets
Gideon the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir
5.0
i’m not fucking okay
I've had this new fear creeping up on me recently: that I've read so many books and consumed so much media that I've become increasingly numb to the emotional experience of a narrative. It has been rarer and rarer these days for me to feel deeply emotionally invested in a book, even those that I adore. I wouldn't call this a reading slump, because I'm always excited to be reading and throughout this ongoing problem, I've never had a hard time sitting down and getting through a book, but the reading experience had become a mundane repetition of mild entertainment. Once the book was closed, the story was out of my mind, and I was on to the next. I have been DESPERATE to feel something. To read a book that would clear the cobwebs and take up residence in my mind. So I blew off the dust that had been accumulating on a book that had sat on my shelf for a few years now, praying it would do the trick.
And reader, I was not prepared for how much Gideon The Ninth would not only rise to the challenge but absolutely obliterate it. I had genuinely almost forgotten what it was to experience a book like this.
Squealing and kicking my feet with delight: not uncommon for me. Involuntarily uttering honks of laughter or making noises of excitement: a special treat. Gripping the pages so tight in anticipation that the paper is left with moist indents from my clammy hands: it may happen once in a blue moon. But overflowing with emotions so visceral that I'm left with a raw throat, an empty tissue box, and shaking limbs... now that, my dear reader, is a true rarity. Gideon The Ninth not only finally made me FEEL things but gave me a reading experience that I had forgotten what it means to know.
Upon starting this book, I IMMEDIATELY understood what Muir was going for. I don't know if my background as a Homestuck-obsessed teenager helped, but I was so immediately immersed in this story and its language and characters and humor. Early on, I likened the structure of the narrative's telling to that of playing out an RPG: though there is quite a bit of intense world-building and plot-weaving, the focus stays firmly on the moment-to-moment action. This allows the participants (in this case, the readers) to engage directly with the lower stakes humor and interpersonal dynamics as an engine to propel ourselves through the story, while understanding there will be more at play, resulting in a really strong narrative payoff that maintains a massive scale and stakes while hitting some incredible emotional beats because of our bond to the characters we've spent so much time with.
My stars, this book is amazing. It's so unlike anything else I've read and has just absolutely rocked my world. I'm deeply feral and deeply fucking unwell, but hey, it's what I asked for and more.
"One flesh, one end, bitch."
CW: violence, body horror, blood & gore, dead body, character death, death, child death, grief, murder, dismemberment, cancer, cannibalism, decapitation, emesis, imprisonment (past), death of parents (past), suicide (past)
I've had this new fear creeping up on me recently: that I've read so many books and consumed so much media that I've become increasingly numb to the emotional experience of a narrative. It has been rarer and rarer these days for me to feel deeply emotionally invested in a book, even those that I adore. I wouldn't call this a reading slump, because I'm always excited to be reading and throughout this ongoing problem, I've never had a hard time sitting down and getting through a book, but the reading experience had become a mundane repetition of mild entertainment. Once the book was closed, the story was out of my mind, and I was on to the next. I have been DESPERATE to feel something. To read a book that would clear the cobwebs and take up residence in my mind. So I blew off the dust that had been accumulating on a book that had sat on my shelf for a few years now, praying it would do the trick.
And reader, I was not prepared for how much Gideon The Ninth would not only rise to the challenge but absolutely obliterate it. I had genuinely almost forgotten what it was to experience a book like this.
Squealing and kicking my feet with delight: not uncommon for me. Involuntarily uttering honks of laughter or making noises of excitement: a special treat. Gripping the pages so tight in anticipation that the paper is left with moist indents from my clammy hands: it may happen once in a blue moon. But overflowing with emotions so visceral that I'm left with a raw throat, an empty tissue box, and shaking limbs... now that, my dear reader, is a true rarity. Gideon The Ninth not only finally made me FEEL things but gave me a reading experience that I had forgotten what it means to know.
Upon starting this book, I IMMEDIATELY understood what Muir was going for. I don't know if my background as a Homestuck-obsessed teenager helped, but I was so immediately immersed in this story and its language and characters and humor. Early on, I likened the structure of the narrative's telling to that of playing out an RPG: though there is quite a bit of intense world-building and plot-weaving, the focus stays firmly on the moment-to-moment action. This allows the participants (in this case, the readers) to engage directly with the lower stakes humor and interpersonal dynamics as an engine to propel ourselves through the story, while understanding there will be more at play, resulting in a really strong narrative payoff that maintains a massive scale and stakes while hitting some incredible emotional beats because of our bond to the characters we've spent so much time with.
My stars, this book is amazing. It's so unlike anything else I've read and has just absolutely rocked my world. I'm deeply feral and deeply fucking unwell, but hey, it's what I asked for and more.
"One flesh, one end, bitch."
CW: violence, body horror, blood & gore, dead body, character death, death, child death, grief, murder, dismemberment, cancer, cannibalism, decapitation, emesis, imprisonment (past), death of parents (past), suicide (past)