2011 Book Review #66: Pasquale's Angel
Title: Pasquale's Angel
Author: Paul McAuley
Genre: Renaissance steampunk
Thingummies: 3
Synopsis: A painter in a Renaissance Florence in which Da Vinci's inventions kicked off an early fantastic Industrial Revolution stumbles into a murder investigation on the heels of Machiavelli. But what started off appearing as an artist's feud between Raphael and Michelangelo turns out to be a widespread conspiracy that may include threats to the Pope, black magic, and a Spanish invasion.
Thingummies: This reminds me quite a lot of The Anubis Gates, both in its strengths and its flaws. There's fantastic world-building, clever alternate histories, and swash-buckling adventure. Unfortunately, there's also confusing plotting, a queasy relationship with magic, and problematic women/minorities. Plus, phantasmagoric evil clowns on stilts.
Italy in the late 1400s and early 1500s contained an amazing confluence of brilliant people, and basically all of them show up in this novel. In this alternate history, though, so do hang-gliders, photography, Greek fire, and self-guided mines. The technological superiority and adventurousness of the Florentines spills out into Columbus being funded by Italians (and so the New World being explored without the Spanish Inquisition being involved). Details are relatively well-thought out and the blend of Renaissance piety and Industrial Revolution gadgetry works surprisingly well.
By the end of the book, I'm still not sure whether magic is real or not, which irritates me to no end. McAuley wants to play it both ways, revealing some "magic" to be mere trickery but still waving his hands with mystic mumbo-jumbo when it works for him. There's a dizzying disorientation in some of these scenes that is all too similar to the not-completely-thought-out handwaving of The Anubis Gates and The Difference Engine. Why must early steampunk not carry through its convictions of early science-based fiction and veer unnecessarily into magic that they never properly explore? (I've got no issues with magic. But if you cleverly construct a world that "could have" been ours, please don't then throw in elements that couldn't. Unless you genuinely believe we can summon a demon right now?)
I will admit, there's a distinct possibility that the plot is not quite as confusing as I found it, since I read a large chunk of this book while feverish, exhausted, or both. But I still think it was a little difficult to follow.
There are women in this book (although that includes a lot of whores who seem to exist only for titillationn). They're not very impressive. The one with the most page time is essentially a female Native American version of the Magical Negro. She wisely mumbles wise-sounding mumbo jumbo, magically seems to know everything that's going to happen (but doesn't help really much at all), and exists mostly to feed the protagonist peyote and eventually send him to the New World to become a shaman. Seriously. Deeply irritating.
Oh, also--the locked door mystery that kicks off the main plot is lifted straight from a classic (the classic?) detective story. I guarentee you'll recognize it. And while it may have been intended as a gentle homage, it actually completely spoils a major plot twist because the author doesn't seem to think we're bright enough to recognize how the guy died.
Author: Paul McAuley
Genre: Renaissance steampunk
Thingummies: 3
Synopsis: A painter in a Renaissance Florence in which Da Vinci's inventions kicked off an early fantastic Industrial Revolution stumbles into a murder investigation on the heels of Machiavelli. But what started off appearing as an artist's feud between Raphael and Michelangelo turns out to be a widespread conspiracy that may include threats to the Pope, black magic, and a Spanish invasion.
Thingummies: This reminds me quite a lot of The Anubis Gates, both in its strengths and its flaws. There's fantastic world-building, clever alternate histories, and swash-buckling adventure. Unfortunately, there's also confusing plotting, a queasy relationship with magic, and problematic women/minorities. Plus, phantasmagoric evil clowns on stilts.
Italy in the late 1400s and early 1500s contained an amazing confluence of brilliant people, and basically all of them show up in this novel. In this alternate history, though, so do hang-gliders, photography, Greek fire, and self-guided mines. The technological superiority and adventurousness of the Florentines spills out into Columbus being funded by Italians (and so the New World being explored without the Spanish Inquisition being involved). Details are relatively well-thought out and the blend of Renaissance piety and Industrial Revolution gadgetry works surprisingly well.
By the end of the book, I'm still not sure whether magic is real or not, which irritates me to no end. McAuley wants to play it both ways, revealing some "magic" to be mere trickery but still waving his hands with mystic mumbo-jumbo when it works for him. There's a dizzying disorientation in some of these scenes that is all too similar to the not-completely-thought-out handwaving of The Anubis Gates and The Difference Engine. Why must early steampunk not carry through its convictions of early science-based fiction and veer unnecessarily into magic that they never properly explore? (I've got no issues with magic. But if you cleverly construct a world that "could have" been ours, please don't then throw in elements that couldn't. Unless you genuinely believe we can summon a demon right now?)
I will admit, there's a distinct possibility that the plot is not quite as confusing as I found it, since I read a large chunk of this book while feverish, exhausted, or both. But I still think it was a little difficult to follow.
There are women in this book (although that includes a lot of whores who seem to exist only for titillationn). They're not very impressive. The one with the most page time is essentially a female Native American version of the Magical Negro. She wisely mumbles wise-sounding mumbo jumbo, magically seems to know everything that's going to happen (but doesn't help really much at all), and exists mostly to feed the protagonist peyote and eventually send him to the New World to become a shaman. Seriously. Deeply irritating.
Oh, also--the locked door mystery that kicks off the main plot is lifted straight from a classic (the classic?) detective story. I guarentee you'll recognize it. And while it may have been intended as a gentle homage, it actually completely spoils a major plot twist because the author doesn't seem to think we're bright enough to recognize how the guy died.
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How broad a hint do you want?
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And given that one of the characters has an unusual pet, well...
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