The Somnambulist, Jonathan Barnes
Feb. 23rd, 2008 05:27 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lallis_follyConjuror Edward Moon is a handsome, charismatic man, popular in the best circles. But his assistant is by far the more eye-catching of the two. The Somnambulist is freakishly tall, mute, drinks only milk, and can suffer numerous swordthrusts with no apparent damage. The two are good friends, even living together beneath their theatre. And when London's finest occasionally request Moon's assistance with a case, the Somnambulist is right there to back him up.
Moon, like Sherlock Holmes before him, is subject to ennui unless he has a case to engage his wits. Unfortunately, cases have been few and far between of late. But when a wretched actor is thrown from a tower, Moon and the Somnambulist are drawn into a bizarre mystery that will, in the end, threaten London itself.
This novel hooked me right from the first paragraph: Be warned. This book has no literary merit whatsoever. It is a lurid piece of nonsense, convoluted, implausible, peopled by unconvincing characters, written in drearily pedestrian prose, frequently ridiculous and wilfully bizarre. Needless to say, I doubt you'll believe a word of it. After that, there was no chance that I wouldn't finish it, and as quickly as possible.
The Somnambulist is a marvelous, convoluted tale. Within its labyrinthine twists are a man who lives backward, a totally unreliable narrator who confesses to lying to the reader, secret organizations, bizarre nightmare Tweedle-Dee and -Dum assassins, and the poet Samuel Taylor Coleridge. Barnes' lyrical writing complements his just-post-Victorian setting and, combined with the inspired madness of the plot, makes this novel very difficult to put down.
Cross-posted to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
webofbooks
Moon, like Sherlock Holmes before him, is subject to ennui unless he has a case to engage his wits. Unfortunately, cases have been few and far between of late. But when a wretched actor is thrown from a tower, Moon and the Somnambulist are drawn into a bizarre mystery that will, in the end, threaten London itself.
This novel hooked me right from the first paragraph: Be warned. This book has no literary merit whatsoever. It is a lurid piece of nonsense, convoluted, implausible, peopled by unconvincing characters, written in drearily pedestrian prose, frequently ridiculous and wilfully bizarre. Needless to say, I doubt you'll believe a word of it. After that, there was no chance that I wouldn't finish it, and as quickly as possible.
The Somnambulist is a marvelous, convoluted tale. Within its labyrinthine twists are a man who lives backward, a totally unreliable narrator who confesses to lying to the reader, secret organizations, bizarre nightmare Tweedle-Dee and -Dum assassins, and the poet Samuel Taylor Coleridge. Barnes' lyrical writing complements his just-post-Victorian setting and, combined with the inspired madness of the plot, makes this novel very difficult to put down.
Cross-posted to
webofbooks
