When Lieutenant Donal Riordan gets the assignment to protect opera diva Maria da Livnova, he’s already aware that the assassination plot against her is likely connected to a high-level conspiracy within the city of Tristopolis. What he doesn’t anticipate is his own role as a mere pawn. The conspirators seem to be after artists’ corpses, and they are readily facilitating the creation of those corpses – because in Tristopolis, death equates to power. The city thrives on necroflux, an energy source derived from the ground bones of the dead, which retain the memories of their former owners’ lives.
This review is based on an unfinished reading of Bone Song, which is noteworthy because the reviewer typically enjoys works within the “New Weird” genre, a category Bone Song seemingly fits. The desire to appreciate this book was genuine, and it’s not necessarily terrible, but it also fails to be truly compelling. While personal taste plays a role, significant shortcomings were evident within the first 170 pages read. Detailing these flaws might help potential readers decide if they are willing to overlook them to experience a uniquely conceived gothic world.
The most significant issue lies with the main character, Donal Riordan. He’s presented as a cynical, rule-bending, badass cop – essentially a walking cliché. While starting with a trope isn’t inherently wrong, the expectation is for complexity and character development to be layered in, which is noticeably absent in the pages read. The single instance of Donal acting outside predictable lines occurs under a spell’s influence. Adding to this, several other cops are introduced, virtually indistinguishable from Donal in terms of character and attitude. Having read works by Richard Morgan and Jeffrey Thomas’ Deadstock, it’s clear that this character archetype can be executed with far greater depth and nuance.
The female lead, Laura Steel, an undead character, held potential for intrigue, but this is undermined by her predictable romantic interest in Donal. No discernible chemistry exists between them, making the subsequent detailed sex scene, seemingly celebrating masculine prowess, feel gratuitous. This aligns with the pervasive machismo evident throughout the novel. Donal, the martial arts expert cop who is also sexually exceptional, becomes increasingly unlikable. Again, referencing Richard Morgan, such elements can be handled effectively, but here they fall short.
The plotting also appears disjointed. While emotional connection to the protagonist can be subjective, the hero’s emotional disconnect from the unfolding story is more objectively problematic, especially given opportunities for personal stakes. Donal commits unforgivable acts while under a villain’s spell, and then develops feelings for the diva also under spell-like circumstances – affections conveniently forgotten after her demise. Potential emotional hooks are introduced abruptly and then swiftly abandoned.
John Meaney’s dry prose style might contribute to these issues. While not inherently flawed, it fails to achieve the intended effects. When the diva’s singing is described as enchanting everyone, Meaney’s matter-of-fact writing style simply doesn’t convey this magic. Descriptions of Tristopolis suffer similarly. Conceptually, Tristopolis is compelling: a gothic, industrial metropolis powered by death and populated by enslaved ghosts operating machinery. Quicksilver rain, nurses with sharp teeth, and unique swear words like “Thanatos” and “Death” replacing “God” all suggest a rich, imaginative world. However, these elements feel superficial. A giant skull described as part of the city’s architecture evokes neither visual nor emotional impact. It all feels like hollow spectacle. Bone Song seems to aspire to the level of China Miéville’s Perdido Street Station or Jeff VanderMeer’s Veniss Underground, but falls significantly short.
The constant comparisons to other authors throughout this review might appear harsh. Judged solely as a fast-paced detective novel set in a gothic alternative world, Bone Song is likely not entirely without merit. It even contains moments of strength, such as Donal’s unsettling escape from an enchanted crowd. For readers who find China Miéville’s style too elaborate and his characters overly complex and flawed, Bone Song might be a more palatable read. However, for this reviewer, more compelling books await, and investing further time into Bone Song in hopes of eventual reward is not a worthwhile prospect.
Copyright © 2007 by Jakob Schmidt
Jakob is part of the editorial team of the German magazine Pandora.
