I have to confess that as a writer of non-fiction (the trap of academia) I really struggle with conclusions, even when drawing together strands of an argument about the ‘real’ world. As a result I have also to confess to being a little bit in awe of fiction writers who can draw together stories in powerful and compelling ways that hold and encapsulate complex narratives; this does that extremely well. I also have to note at this point (as I have in writing about the previous two books in the Bond Riders’ trilogy) Karen Brooks is a dearly beloved friend of many years standing; we do not see each other anywhere near often enough. Even if she weren’t so dear, I’d still greatly admire the writerly skill and narrative power of this fine novel.
Throughout the series, and especially here, the multi-faceted narrative and interwoven plot of the differing greed and ambition of several characters/cabals is confronted by a morally complex, at times uncertain and ambiguous opposition. Not only are some of the ambitious in conflict with each other, they are also in conflict with but at times trying to use the Estrattore, the mythical, mystical god-like people at the centre of everything in this story. In this concluding part, the young and slightly less naïve Tallow/Tarlo searches for her Estrattore kin while try also to prevent a war that will destroy her home, Serenissima. The skill shown in managing these multiple interwoven plotlines is considerable.
The second aspect of the story I have enjoyed and that comes to the fore here is the rich knowledge of European myths and religions that underpins events as well as the rich philosophical and religious history and knowledge that is so lightly worn, I don’t think any of this knowledge is necessary for readers to engage and enjoy the tale of Tallow, but my limited knowledge of many of these issues added to my enjoyment.
In large part, this enjoyment rests in the morality and ethics of this tale of loyalty, sacrifice, commitment to something bigger all within a framework of choice and agency, of pluralism, compromise and constancy. Characters, in the singular and in groups, must often step away from the comfort of the known to take a stand, to do something that might effect change for the better; there is a sense of the celebration of bravery and uncertainty throughout. There is, of a form, a grand historical narrative here, but certainly not one that is predetermined or predestined. It is, in particular, this moral core that provides the conclusion with its drive, power and richness that rounds out the characters and provides for unexpected alliances and humane sacrifice and commitment to a cause.
These three tropes have been woven throughout the series, although they shift and derive nuance as situations develop without falling into the trap of relativism: the moral core remains but takes on different aspects that enrich and enhance the power of the tale, the significances of the losses and the wonder of the victories and the compromises they require.
There is a section, much of the second half of this volume, where the tone changes and the pace accelerates; until that point the books were structured as one chapter per character, thereafter chapters become multiply narrated and focussed while Tallow’s role shifts from narrator to narrated to become both talker and talked about. The effect of this shift is speed up the narrative, begin to expose the confluences and contradictions of the competing parties and the potential dangers of failure to make the right choices. As a writerly ploy, it works well.
This is the second series of Karen’s I have read, and I understand we should be expecting a change in style and genre. I’ll look forward to what comes next. I am often uncomfortable reading friend’s fiction and sometimes very reluctant to venture into print about them: not this time. Tallow and her world will be missed, although I look forward to continuing to introduce people in our world’s Farrowfare the Tallow’s Venice fully confident they’ll enjoy the meeting as much as I have.