Ratings1
Average rating3.5
This originally appeared at The Irresponsible Reader.
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In a dystopian future the geography of the (what we’d now consider) the Western U.S. looks much different—states are a thing of the past, and two major population centers are the District of Utah (which does contain Salt Lake City) and the District of Portland (Oregon, not Maine). There are people who have been Genetically Modified for one reason or another—and in the D.P. they’re largely feared and ostracized because of what they are and what they can do.
D.P. is where the action takes place in the novel—and it feels like it came out of Portland, OR, too. And not just because Voodoo Doughnuts still exists. Yes, even in a quasi-dystopia people want their donuts. Maybe they need them more than we do, come to think of it.
There’s a lot of the tech, etc. that one usually associates with more utopian-looking/feeling SF. And maybe for many people it’s just that. But D.P.’s government is definitely of the dystopian type (and, boy howdy, do we learn more about that as the book continues), and the area outside the District feels that way, too, filled with mutants and who knows what else.
If you’re one of those readers who really gets into worldbuilding, you’re going to be happy with this read.
Cait’s a beautician with a lot flair and very little money. She’s scraping by, barely. When she sleeps (which she tries not to), the dead come to her and talk to her, trying to get her to do things. So…it’s easy to understand why she doesn’t like to sleep.
A man named Nyle sneaks into Portland after having been prevented legal entrance by a guard—and he’s not the only one like him who has been denied entrance. Nyle, however, is older, more experienced, more powerful, and probably more determined. He and those like him are called “ravens” (although there are other, more contemporary(?) names like “ferrymen”)—they’re tasked with freeing the spirits of the dead from their bodies. It’s been so long since they’ve been permitted in D.P. that Nyle has been compelled to come so he can do his work.
He and Cait have a strong rapport right away, she has some friends (and some family she has a troubling relationship with), but not that many. The two of them click right away, and Cait helps Nyle change his appearance so he can hide from the authorities. He tells her that she’s not Genetically Modified, she has supernatural abilities like him—she’s a necromancer.
While it’s not the same power, it’s close to his and he has experience with necromancers and guides her to use her abilities better.
Working together, they begin to free the spirits of the dead and learn why ravens have been blocked from entering D.P.—those spirits are being used by newly developed technology. This pits the pair against the authorities and other powerful people.
I don’t get magic/paranormal/supernatural systems like this one where someone/something is required to separate souls from bodies at/around/near death. Whether it’s this book (and it’s oncoming sequel), Amber Benson’s Calliope Reaper-Jones series, the TV show Dead Like Me, or any of the other examples I had in mind for weeks to bring up that disappeared as soon as I started composing this post. It just doesn’t make any sense to me.
This doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy these works of fiction. I just don’t understand what ties these non-corporeal entities/substances/existences/whatever to the body at or after death and why someone has to come along and separate them.
So I guess I’m saying two things here—1. If you’re like me on this point, you can still get into this book. I honestly didn’t think about it while reading the Grave Cold, it’s only when I think about the book/system that it gives me pause. 2. If you’re not like me…can you explain this?
I cannot describe it to my satisfaction, but Knight has embued this novel with an atmosphere, a texture that you can’t help but feel as you read. Her descriptions are pretty sparse, but at the same time, I really think I know what Cait’s environs look and feel like.
It’s difficult to think of spirits as capable of being mistreated or abused—they’re spirits of dead people, right? But in Knight’s world that’s exactly what’s happening. Abusing the dead ranks right up there with elder-abuse somehow. As Nyle says,
“It’s easy to see the dead as non-persons when you’re alive. It’s harder when you know them.”
Instead of going on to whatever is next once the spirit is released, the former citizens of D.P. are trapped and exploited.
While this story is dark and harrowing, there’s a real pleasure (and sometimes lightness) in watching the friendship between Nyle—a centuries-old being—and Cait deepen and grow stronger. It’s a tricky thing to attempt (much less pull off), but Knight does it well.
Great world-building, questionable (to me) magic system—but it’s cool to see in action, some well-designed characters (including all of them that I didn’t mention here), a plot that moves well and is intricate enough that you’re kept wondering where it’s going until the end. Knight has written (on my blog) about coming up with the sequel, so I know one is coming. And I’m looking forward to it—at the same time, were this a stand-alone, it’d be very satisfactory as one.
This originally appeared at The Irresponsible Reader.
---
In a dystopian future the geography of the (what we’d now consider) the Western U.S. looks much different—states are a thing of the past, and two major population centers are the District of Utah (which does contain Salt Lake City) and the District of Portland (Oregon, not Maine). There are people who have been Genetically Modified for one reason or another—and in the D.P. they’re largely feared and ostracized because of what they are and what they can do.
D.P. is where the action takes place in the novel—and it feels like it came out of Portland, OR, too. And not just because Voodoo Doughnuts still exists. Yes, even in a quasi-dystopia people want their donuts. Maybe they need them more than we do, come to think of it.
There’s a lot of the tech, etc. that one usually associates with more utopian-looking/feeling SF. And maybe for many people it’s just that. But D.P.’s government is definitely of the dystopian type (and, boy howdy, do we learn more about that as the book continues), and the area outside the District feels that way, too, filled with mutants and who knows what else.
If you’re one of those readers who really gets into worldbuilding, you’re going to be happy with this read.
Cait’s a beautician with a lot flair and very little money. She’s scraping by, barely. When she sleeps (which she tries not to), the dead come to her and talk to her, trying to get her to do things. So…it’s easy to understand why she doesn’t like to sleep.
A man named Nyle sneaks into Portland after having been prevented legal entrance by a guard—and he’s not the only one like him who has been denied entrance. Nyle, however, is older, more experienced, more powerful, and probably more determined. He and those like him are called “ravens” (although there are other, more contemporary(?) names like “ferrymen”)—they’re tasked with freeing the spirits of the dead from their bodies. It’s been so long since they’ve been permitted in D.P. that Nyle has been compelled to come so he can do his work.
He and Cait have a strong rapport right away, she has some friends (and some family she has a troubling relationship with), but not that many. The two of them click right away, and Cait helps Nyle change his appearance so he can hide from the authorities. He tells her that she’s not Genetically Modified, she has supernatural abilities like him—she’s a necromancer.
While it’s not the same power, it’s close to his and he has experience with necromancers and guides her to use her abilities better.
Working together, they begin to free the spirits of the dead and learn why ravens have been blocked from entering D.P.—those spirits are being used by newly developed technology. This pits the pair against the authorities and other powerful people.
I don’t get magic/paranormal/supernatural systems like this one where someone/something is required to separate souls from bodies at/around/near death. Whether it’s this book (and it’s oncoming sequel), Amber Benson’s Calliope Reaper-Jones series, the TV show Dead Like Me, or any of the other examples I had in mind for weeks to bring up that disappeared as soon as I started composing this post. It just doesn’t make any sense to me.
This doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy these works of fiction. I just don’t understand what ties these non-corporeal entities/substances/existences/whatever to the body at or after death and why someone has to come along and separate them.
So I guess I’m saying two things here—1. If you’re like me on this point, you can still get into this book. I honestly didn’t think about it while reading the Grave Cold, it’s only when I think about the book/system that it gives me pause. 2. If you’re not like me…can you explain this?
I cannot describe it to my satisfaction, but Knight has embued this novel with an atmosphere, a texture that you can’t help but feel as you read. Her descriptions are pretty sparse, but at the same time, I really think I know what Cait’s environs look and feel like.
It’s difficult to think of spirits as capable of being mistreated or abused—they’re spirits of dead people, right? But in Knight’s world that’s exactly what’s happening. Abusing the dead ranks right up there with elder-abuse somehow. As Nyle says,
“It’s easy to see the dead as non-persons when you’re alive. It’s harder when you know them.”
Instead of going on to whatever is next once the spirit is released, the former citizens of D.P. are trapped and exploited.
While this story is dark and harrowing, there’s a real pleasure (and sometimes lightness) in watching the friendship between Nyle—a centuries-old being—and Cait deepen and grow stronger. It’s a tricky thing to attempt (much less pull off), but Knight does it well.
Great world-building, questionable (to me) magic system—but it’s cool to see in action, some well-designed characters (including all of them that I didn’t mention here), a plot that moves well and is intricate enough that you’re kept wondering where it’s going until the end. Knight has written (on my blog) about coming up with the sequel, so I know one is coming. And I’m looking forward to it—at the same time, were this a stand-alone, it’d be very satisfactory as one.