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A review by dieslaughing
The Fallen Blade: Act One of the Assassini by Jon Courtenay Grimwood
2.0
I was so looking forward to this book - politics and supernatural shenanigans in 15th century alt-history Venice? Sign me up! - but have finished feeling supremely frustrated. And why do I feel so frustrated? Because occasionally there are moments where I felt a fabulous book was lurking somewhere in here, whether it was a beautiful or clever turn of phrase, or a genuinely wrenching character moment, and then it would crumble away, again and again.
First: I have never read a novel that went to such great lengths to describe every woman's breasts, or made mention of them any time a woman (any woman!) appeared. I'm not sure if it was because this was the author's way of maintaining a sensual mood or what, but it bordered on ridiculous and was anything but sensual. Hey, I love breasts. Breasts are great, but when your female characters literally become walking breasts - it's a problem.
Second: I'm not easily confused but there were moments I would miss a switch in POV or lose track of who was actually speaking, and would have to go back and work it out. Grimwood also has a fondness for sentence fragments and, while I wholeheartedly support that stylistic choice (because it can be used to great effect), there were also several instances where the tense would change two or three times within a paragraph. Now, that's an editing issue, but combined with Grimwood's style, it hacked the prose to pieces. Sometimes, reading was an effort when it should not have been.
Third: The aspect of this novel I expected to be indifferent to - Tycho, the blood-drinking assassin in training - ended up being its saving grace. I was invested in following his complicated journey. I only wish so many of the events and characters surrounding him had made me give half a damn. The politics of the story are its weak point, and I think Giulietta's arc in the second half is just a shade of what it could have been.
But Tycho remained interesting, and I may have to read the sequel if only to discover more of his story - though it may continue to frustrate me. (However, a quick perusal of the next book's reviews seem to indicate the second book is much, much better than this one.)
First: I have never read a novel that went to such great lengths to describe every woman's breasts, or made mention of them any time a woman (any woman!) appeared. I'm not sure if it was because this was the author's way of maintaining a sensual mood or what, but it bordered on ridiculous and was anything but sensual. Hey, I love breasts. Breasts are great, but when your female characters literally become walking breasts - it's a problem.
Second: I'm not easily confused but there were moments I would miss a switch in POV or lose track of who was actually speaking, and would have to go back and work it out. Grimwood also has a fondness for sentence fragments and, while I wholeheartedly support that stylistic choice (because it can be used to great effect), there were also several instances where the tense would change two or three times within a paragraph. Now, that's an editing issue, but combined with Grimwood's style, it hacked the prose to pieces. Sometimes, reading was an effort when it should not have been.
Third: The aspect of this novel I expected to be indifferent to - Tycho, the blood-drinking assassin in training - ended up being its saving grace. I was invested in following his complicated journey. I only wish so many of the events and characters surrounding him had made me give half a damn. The politics of the story are its weak point, and I think Giulietta's arc in the second half is just a shade of what it could have been.
But Tycho remained interesting, and I may have to read the sequel if only to discover more of his story - though it may continue to frustrate me. (However, a quick perusal of the next book's reviews seem to indicate the second book is much, much better than this one.)