Reviews

Conquest by Nina Allan

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niallharrison's review

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challenging dark informative mysterious reflective medium-paced

Plot- or character-driven? A mix
Strong character development? It's complicated
Loveable characters? Yes
Diverse cast of characters? No
Flaws of characters a main focus? No

5.0

eccles's review

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mysterious reflective tense medium-paced

Plot- or character-driven? A mix
Strong character development? It's complicated
Loveable characters? Yes
Diverse cast of characters? N/A
Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

3.75

An odd one. A detective story wrapped around missing computer programmer obsessed with an alien invasion and Bach’s Goldberg Variations, a person who’s possibly not missing and possibly just part of a conspiracy theory cult or possibly a complicated European mafia family. The private detective working on the case seems to be following traces of both the missing person and her own case, the latter bleeding in strange ways into the former. And the possible non-conclusions to the story are strangely as satisfying as actual conclusions might have been. The structure of this work is as complex as any conspiracy theory, moving from a narrative peppered with obscure observations about music to a science fiction story-within-a-story to an essay on the story and a film that was mentioned in the meta-story, then back to the meta-story, then an essay on a musical performance before finishing up the story without really finishing it up. One consequence of this complexity is a texture that is highly variable, variation that breaks up any sense of continuity. There is I suppose some continuity in much of the language used here - of aesthetics I suppose - with observations on music, performance, film, art and architecture and representation, that were irritatingly lost on me more of the time than I’d like to admit. What is a chromatic harmony anyway, and would I know a chaconne if I heard one? I can’t tell if this is intentional obscurantism, or if it’s a work that’s just partially inaccessible to me because of my ignorance. I confess this sense of having failed to fully appreciate the work probably detracted from my enjoyment.