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katie_is_dreaming 's review for:
The Betrayals
by Bridget Collins
Bridget Collins’ books are very intriguing. The synopses never give much away, leaving the reader to go in blind and find their way through the plot as if it’s a twisty maze. This, her second adult book, is just as mysterious, plot wise, as her first, and just as compelling. There is that same feeling of needing to know what happens right now as there is in The Binding, and there is that same feeling of being gripped by the story. I really enjoyed The Binding, but I think The Betrayals might be even better.
The novel revolves around Léo Martin, a disgraced politician, and Claire Dryden, the first Magister Ludi, or Master of the Game, at the elite school Léo once attended. The Game itself - the Grand Jeu - is a vague entity, never fully explained (Collins has said she was inspired by Hermann Hesse’s The Glass Bead Game, so familiarity with that story might help this make more sense). The Grand Jeu is multifaceted, involving art, music, maths, literature, dance, all understood through academic study. Students write games for marks and performance. To me, it seemed like a complicated dance, which invoked magic to impart sensation and meaning to the viewer. That Collins never fully explains what the Grand Jeu is or means never really bothered me. I think she leaves it vague because it’s supposed to be akin to the divine, which is largely unknowable.
Collins doesn’t focus heavily on world building either (same in The Binding), and I think I've come to understand that that’s just her style. She’s far more focused on the characters in her stories than the worlds she creates for them. Her world here is analogous to Nazi-era Germany, with a rising authoritarian Party worming its way into cultural and social life. We are never told where, precisely, the story is set, though Léo’s name is French, while Claire has spent time in England. Ireland is also mentioned as a possible place of refuge. Collins doesn’t go into great depth on all the ramifications of the rise and effects of the Party, but enough is mentioned that gives the characters and the reader a sense of danger and foreboding.
Collins’ focus - her characters - is also where she shines. Léo is an ambitious man, angry about being exiled to Montverre, but also having, or perhaps rediscovering, a moral compass that has lain dormant for years. He gives the impression of not caring about anyone or anything, but the story reveals an insecure man who has trouble being vulnerable. Claire has ambitions of her own in a world where women aren’t seen as capable players of the Grand Jeu. She also keeps secrets about her past, and her position at Montverre is placed on shaky ground when Léo enters her life. What ties them together is Léo’s past with another student at Montverre, and the revelations surrounding that had me gripped early on.
There are two other more minor characters in the story, the Rat and Simon, both of whom represent themes of oppression in the story. They were there to help round out the world building, and break up the intense focus on Léo and Claire, and while I think breaking that intense focus was needed, and their presence is important for the book’s themes, their stories weren’t as compelling for me as Léo and Claire’s.
Their love story is my favourite aspect of this story. They are both flawed, their ambition leading them to make mistakes that haunt them. But what Collins explores really well is how them being drawn to each other is completely right for their personalities, and how fulfilment for them is greater together. She also, beautifully, explores how loving someone is loving their soul and not their appearance.
There is an excellent twist in this novel, which I guessed about halfway through, but waited with bated breath to discover if I was right. There were just things about the plot that weren’t making sense to me until I had a thought about what was going on. I’m not, of course, going to spoil the surprise, but it was so good, and fit the theme of oppression so well.
This was a fantastic start to the year, reading wise. I’m still thinking about Léo and Claire. Collins’ endings sort of leave you wanting more, and as with The Binding, I wouldn’t at all be averse to returning to this world and these characters, even Simon and the Rat, again in the future.
Rating: 9/10 (I'm no longer using Goodreads' rating system because it isn't nuanced enough) - a 9/10 in my system represents an excellent book, and one I will reread, but not quite all-time-favourite status (though there’s always the possibility that that can change in time!).
Blog: awonderfulbook.com | Instagram: katiemotenbooks | Twitter: katiemotenbooks
The novel revolves around Léo Martin, a disgraced politician, and Claire Dryden, the first Magister Ludi, or Master of the Game, at the elite school Léo once attended. The Game itself - the Grand Jeu - is a vague entity, never fully explained (Collins has said she was inspired by Hermann Hesse’s The Glass Bead Game, so familiarity with that story might help this make more sense). The Grand Jeu is multifaceted, involving art, music, maths, literature, dance, all understood through academic study. Students write games for marks and performance. To me, it seemed like a complicated dance, which invoked magic to impart sensation and meaning to the viewer. That Collins never fully explains what the Grand Jeu is or means never really bothered me. I think she leaves it vague because it’s supposed to be akin to the divine, which is largely unknowable.
Collins doesn’t focus heavily on world building either (same in The Binding), and I think I've come to understand that that’s just her style. She’s far more focused on the characters in her stories than the worlds she creates for them. Her world here is analogous to Nazi-era Germany, with a rising authoritarian Party worming its way into cultural and social life. We are never told where, precisely, the story is set, though Léo’s name is French, while Claire has spent time in England. Ireland is also mentioned as a possible place of refuge. Collins doesn’t go into great depth on all the ramifications of the rise and effects of the Party, but enough is mentioned that gives the characters and the reader a sense of danger and foreboding.
Collins’ focus - her characters - is also where she shines. Léo is an ambitious man, angry about being exiled to Montverre, but also having, or perhaps rediscovering, a moral compass that has lain dormant for years. He gives the impression of not caring about anyone or anything, but the story reveals an insecure man who has trouble being vulnerable. Claire has ambitions of her own in a world where women aren’t seen as capable players of the Grand Jeu. She also keeps secrets about her past, and her position at Montverre is placed on shaky ground when Léo enters her life. What ties them together is Léo’s past with another student at Montverre, and the revelations surrounding that had me gripped early on.
There are two other more minor characters in the story, the Rat and Simon, both of whom represent themes of oppression in the story. They were there to help round out the world building, and break up the intense focus on Léo and Claire, and while I think breaking that intense focus was needed, and their presence is important for the book’s themes, their stories weren’t as compelling for me as Léo and Claire’s.
Their love story is my favourite aspect of this story. They are both flawed, their ambition leading them to make mistakes that haunt them. But what Collins explores really well is how them being drawn to each other is completely right for their personalities, and how fulfilment for them is greater together. She also, beautifully, explores how loving someone is loving their soul and not their appearance.
There is an excellent twist in this novel, which I guessed about halfway through, but waited with bated breath to discover if I was right. There were just things about the plot that weren’t making sense to me until I had a thought about what was going on. I’m not, of course, going to spoil the surprise, but it was so good, and fit the theme of oppression so well.
This was a fantastic start to the year, reading wise. I’m still thinking about Léo and Claire. Collins’ endings sort of leave you wanting more, and as with The Binding, I wouldn’t at all be averse to returning to this world and these characters, even Simon and the Rat, again in the future.
Rating: 9/10 (I'm no longer using Goodreads' rating system because it isn't nuanced enough) - a 9/10 in my system represents an excellent book, and one I will reread, but not quite all-time-favourite status (though there’s always the possibility that that can change in time!).
Blog: awonderfulbook.com | Instagram: katiemotenbooks | Twitter: katiemotenbooks