A Parliament of Bodies is the latest in Marshall Ryan
Maresca’s ‘Maradaine’ saga (we've got an interview with him here, giving some insight into this latest book), a shared universe populated by, among others, mages,
vigilantes, coppers and villains. It’s part of the ‘Maradaine Constabulary’
sequence, which focuses on two police inspectors on the mean streets of the
city of Maradaine, where government corruption is rife, back-up is often
optional, and crimes have a tendency to get a bit magical.
The sequence has a
tradition of blending magic and mystery together in a compelling cocktail, and I’m delighted to report that this latest book continues that tradition.
Rainey and Welling are back, and their latest case takes us behind
the scenes in the Parliament of Maradaine. This provides a great opportunity to
see how the city works, officially and…otherwise. The halls of the Parliament
have a thick veneer of history, and you can feel the crackle of past events as
our protagonists walk through them.This is a series which has always had rich
worldbuilding, and that continues here – the history of the Parliament (and
thus of the city) emerges in casual conversation, in glances taking in
artifacts, in the glimpses of an extraordinary institution going about the
everyday business of power. If a building can feel alive, it’s this one, packed
with byzantine tunnels, swathed in layers of historical tradition, creaking
under the weight of age and symbolism. But it’s also a hub of current politics
in a city where politics is a very dirty business. The same honoured halls are
home to threats, bribery, peculation and, yes, murder. There’s fast-talking,
backhanders and realpolitik in all its many forms, all buttressed by the power,
influence and hard cash of the politicians who call the building home.
Maradaine has an opulence we haven’t seen before, and a sense of historical
idealism and grace – but has also added a hard-nosed edge to its already
fraught politics. The clash between the ideals of the institution and its
implementation provide narrative friction, but are also a joy to consider in
themselves, adding a depth and richness to a complex, living world.
Steppimg into this seething cauldron of political plots and
counter-plots are Rainey and Welling. The pair have always had an engaging
professional relationship and a deepening friendship, and that continues here.
Rainey is at once more pensive, aware of the consequences of their actions as
representatives of the police, and less willing to conform to others expectations
than previously. She’s experienced, smart, and isn’t going to let anyone talk
down to or past her, which creates some delightful clashes with the less modern
members of the government. Welling, by contrast, seems to be struggling to come
to terms with the potential for magical power which has recently been thrust
upon him. Welling’s ruminations on responsibility, and his desire to do the
right thing are counterbalanced by a tendency toward near-obsession, and
analysis paralysis, and all these are wonderfully evoked here. Welling is a
person in crisis, and the text isn’t afraid to explore that, to give us a look
at someone who may be on their breaking point, and see how (or if) they make
their way back.
The duo are the emotional heart of the text, and watching
them explore and investigate is a joy on its own. But I want to take a moment
and give a shout out to the ensemble cast as well. From Welling’s extensive
family, willing to drop everything to come to one another’s aid, to the
complicated relationship he shares with another man, to family with two awkward
children and a comatose father, they all feel absolutely real. There’s the
squabbles and pettiness of long familiarity, mixed with the silvered warmth of familial affection. These are
people in their own stories, as well as the one we’re reading, but they add
extra emotional heft and dimension to a tale which already had it in spades.
There’s also appearances by characters from other Maradaine
novels, most notably Dayne and Jerinne from the recent The Way of the Shield.
The clash between the duo’s, particularly Daine’s idealistic heroism and Rainey’s
forceful and somewhat pragmatic upholding of the law, and awareness of its
grubbiness, is wonderful. That they can come together and work as a team to try
and solve a crisis and save lives – well, it warms the heart, and also makes
for very compelling reading.
The plot? Well, as ever, I’ll try not to give any spoilers.
But it begins with an elaborate clockwork deathtrap placed on the floor of the
Parliament, with a dozen victims trapped inside. It’s a race against time for
Rainey and Welling to negotiate the politics of the city’s most political
institution, and track down the clockwork killer, in an effort to save those
victims from a horrendous demise. There’s all sorts here – elaborate plots, bizarre
death-machines, heroism, marvellous and terrifying magic. It’s a story where
you’re turning each page to see what happens next, always aware that each page
moves the countdown to crisis a little nearer zero.The tension is artfully
crafted and garrotte-taut, and the stakes are high. It’s a book you’re not
going to want to put down, and one I read until far too late at night because I
didn’t put it down.
If you’re already reading the Maradaine novels, or even for
new readers, this one is probably the best yet; clever, emotionally honest, imaginative
fantasy, with characters that hold your heart in their hands as they try to
save the world as well as themselves.
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