A Review of Gideon the Ninth
The cover of Tamsyn Muir’s debut novel Gideon the Ninth gives the impression it is just a goth fantasy with a Mary Sue protagonist. The makeup, skulls, bad ass hero pose, and archaic font screams wish fulfillment aimed at young adult readers who love goth. When it was selected by my book club, I knew I wasn’t the target audience and prepared myself for a dull read.
I was pleasantly surprised. Although some of my prejudgments turned out to be correct, others were dead wrong. Tamsyn Muir avoids overplayed YA fantasy tropes as well as common problems found in first-in-a-series novels.
Gideon Nav is an orphan born into a life of servitude on a dark planet ruled by a death cult known as the Locked Tomb or the Ninth House. Seeking to escape her miserable life, she arranges to stowaway on a transport but is stopped by Harrowhark Nonagesimus, Reverend Daughter of the Ninth House. Harrowhark is a necromancer or bone witch, able to summon skeletons to do her bidding. She forces Gideon back into servitude in the new role of cavalier, or body guard as part of an important mission. The Emperor of the solar system of which the Ninth House belongs, has invited the heirs to each of the nine Houses to a deadly trial of wits and skill. If Harrowhark is victorious, she becomes an immortal. In exchange for this one last service, she offers Gideon her freedom.
Gideon and Harrowhark arrive at an ancient palace called Canaan House, along with the leader and cavalier of the other eight houses. The nine houses are to compete to decide who will become the next Lyctor and serve the Emperor as an immortal necromancer. The two women absolutely hate each other, which makes for an interesting dynamic. In this mysterious and deadly competition, they need each other.
The dynamic between Gideon and Harrowhark is what drives the book and elevates it above other YA fantasy novels. The two are complementary in the skills and abilities and have contrasting personalities. Harrowhark is arrogant, stubborn, and somewhat sadistic in her treatment of Gideon. In contrast, Gideon is petulant, defiant, vulgar, and nihilistic. Although it sounds like an “opposites attract” trope, it isn’t. The author successfully builds an authentic dynamic between the two and a connection that grows organically.
The world-building feels like a violent, gory version of a House on Haunted Hill. People brought to a mysterious mansion to find some kind of treasure, or to just merely survive. Muir’s descriptions of the mansion are somewhat thin but it isn’t difficult to imagine the dark corridors and large empty staterooms. The gothic aesthetic is most present with the detailed descriptions of Harrowhark and Gideon. The two wear all black with bone structures painted on to their clothing and faces. Gideon goes a step farther and wears aviator sunglasses to cover her eyes completely.
The descriptions are uneven but the prose overall stands out with colorful metaphors and heavy use of figurative language. Some of the phrases are strange, even baffling at times. Muir should get credit for being unique but it was not always clear what she was trying to say.
The dialogue is almost entirely modern. Gideon uses present day idioms and jokes to break up tension. Her snark and use of modern idioms is jarring and somewhat damages the suspension of disbelief. Her dirty jokes and bad one-liners also robbed several intense scenes of their drama. This was likely the intent of the author to maintain a cynical, detached ambience but it does not serve the story. Gideon the Ninth could’ve been an intensely dark gothic novel but instead takes several steps back to blend in comedy and near meta commentary.
The blurb on the cover and the book summary on the sale page both highlight Gideon’s sexual proclivities and the fact that some, perhaps most of the necromancers are lesbians. Yet, for those thinking the highlighting of the characters’ sexuality hints at a romantic or erotic subplot, you’ll be disappointed. For those that suspect the novel merely invokes it to be more “representative” or inclusive, you’d be wrong too.
The story does not dwell much on sexuality or other dimensions of identity. Instead, it allows for uncommon character dynamics, rivalries, and yes potential relationships among the competitors. All of it unfolds organically and serves the story rather than any external objective.
Another of the novel’s strengths is its focus on its own story rather than the broader series arc. Everything that happens in Gideon the Ninth is about the competition at Canaan House. You get the sense that there is something bigger going on but the energy and focus is on the immediate conflicts. Here, the author avoids a common mistake many authors make when writing the first book in a series. Their tendency is to set the stage for the broader story arc rather than building a story that can stand on its own.
One challenge was the excessive number of named characters. A chart is needed to keep track of who belongs to which house. The author does the reader no favors by altering between proper names, pet names, and titles. There is also plenty of action in the second half yet the author does not have the same talent for action as she does for other descriptions. On some occasions she cuts straight to the outcome of a fight without fully setting the scene. There is also the focus on macabre details rather than the action itself.
Despite these character and description issues, the story itself is strong. The dynamic between Gideon and Harrohark, evolving from bitter hatred, rivalry, to a strange friendship, and hints of something more drive Gideon the Ninth. The world-building is definitely gothic and horror inspired but includes references to technology or sci-fi features making it more complex than a straight fantasy.
Hopefully, the second novel improves on the style issues but, overall, the Locked Tomb series has a solid first novel and the potential to stand out in a crowded genre.