Book Review: Soulless by Gail Carriger

As promised, my first review will be of Soulless, the first novel in the Parasol Protectorate Series by Gail Carriger.

An introduction: 

I admit it; as soon as the first Twilight movie was released, and the ensuing horde of tween fan girls spawned from the bosom of a sparkly vegetarian ‘glampire’, I have avidly avoided (ehem) ‘vampire’ books and their supernatural counterparts in literary form, unless in the safe territory of Bram Stoker. It seemed like the mysterious, dangerous and menacing vampiric creatures I had always imagined vampires to be would cease to exist in this modernised world of Twilight spin-offs and replicated Edward Cullen’s. So, why did I pick up a book that professes to be ‘a novel of vampires, werewolves and parasols’? Well, being a lady whose daily wardrobe includes full petticoat-enhanced skirts, top hats and parasols, and having a little bit of an obsession with Victorian England as I do, I’ll admit it was the cover art that first caught my eye. It depicts Alexia Tarabotti, the heroine of the novel, wearing a plum coloured Victorian jacket, bespectacled top hat and carrying a black parasol. A parasol which, little did I know, would become a rather integral part of this frill-tinged supernatural novel…

We are first introduced to Miss Alexia Tarabotti at a private ball. Not particularly enjoying herself or the lack of refreshments at this little party, she retreats hastily into the library (quite scandalously unescorted!) in the hopes of happening upon an amply-stocked tea trolley. What she finds however is quite different. Miss Tarabotti has a run in with a vampire. A rather foolish vampire, who attempts to feed from our bad-ass heroine, but instead gets quite a shock as the second he touches her, his fangs retract, his superhuman abilities mysteriously dissipated. Why? Because Miss Tarabotti has no soul. She is a preternatural, the touch of which nullifies superhuman abilities, leaving vampires and werewolves alike with only human strengths and skills. Finishing him off, Alexia whacks the vamp over the head with her customised buckshot parasol, delivers a swift blow to his... nether regions and drives her wooden hair stick into her enemy’s heart. And this is why I love this book…

Being of Italian heritage, slightly tan, and with a rather predominant nose, Alexia is certainly not considered beautiful in the era in which she lives, and being of illegitimate birth is doing little to improve her state of isolated spinsterhood. Our heroine is also bitingly smart, considered a ‘blue stocking’, and thus is treated as a hopeless case- by her mother and step sisters especially. We follow Alexia as she attempts to traverse in life without a husband or any prospects, although she soon finds herself in hot water for killing the aforementioned rove vampire. Conflict soon ensues as Alexia joins forces with the scruffy yet handsome Alpha of the BUR (the organisation that acts as a sort of government for the supernatural inhabitants of the area); a werewolf named Lord Maccon. The pair seems to hate each other at first, but it’s clear from the onset that there’s more than meets the eye to this grumpy Scottish werewolf.

 Hastily transitioning from an intelligent but isolated young woman to a preternatural vampire-killer, Alexia finds herself being chased down by a psychotic wax-faced killer, hunted down for information by the Queen of a vampire hive, and falling prey to the beckoning spell of unexpected love. Scattered with abductions, missing vampires, and a suspicious organisation with a taste for octopus logos, Soulless is a book that will keep the reader guessing. Gail Carriger manages to make the book incredibly entertaining with fast-paced goings on and classic novel humour that hearkens back to Jane Austen’s pride and prejudice, and with a devilish twist thrown in; soulless manages to be eerie and charming simultaneously.   

With Soulless, Carriger has taken a dollop of Victoriana, a dash of danger, and a hint of steampunk, and mixed it all together with humour and menace in a large antique teacup. This is one book I certainly approve of, with real vampires, werewolves, and dreamlike parasols to boot. The book gets a good four tea cups out of five - because there's always room for improvement!   

  My next review will be: Geisha of Gion by Mineko Iwasaki, coming next week.