The Fallen Blade

This has to be the most contemp-orary book I will ever write about – not only is it written by an author who is still alive and well, it hasn’t even been published yet! The Fallen Blade: Act 1 of the Assassini Trilogy by Jon Courtenay Grimwood will be available to buy in January 2011, and I assure you, it is well worth the wait. I managed to get my grubby paws on it purely because of my bloodline – the esteemed author is, in fact, my uncle. All bias aside, I am being perfectly honest when I say that I enjoyed it enormously. I wouldn’t exactly call myself a literary snob, (I have, after all, read the Twilight Saga), but, let’s just say, if I hadn’t liked this particular book, I wouldn’t have immediately texted Jon and asked whether I was legally allowed to write a review before its publication (for those of you wondering: I am.) Perhaps it was the recent overdose of Victorian depression and Romantic wimpiness, but this absorbing and energetic novel was a total shock to the system. To say I was hooked is an underestimate. To say I am eager for the next novel is also an underestimate. Despite always liking a good night’s sleep, I read this late into the night and bolted awake early (most unlike me) to resume the story.

For those of you mildly disgusted by the Twilight books – full of sparkly vampires, and lovestruck werewolves – then, rest assured, this is absolutely nothing like them. Set in the dingy streets and elegant palaces of fifteenth century Venice, the city is conjured up from the pages like a mirage. Grimwood’s (how odd it is to use my own surname!) language is capable of evoking every scene with utter clarity. The filth and grime of the sewer-strewn canal paths are described as evocatively as the insincerely polite scenes at court. Acts of indescribable violence are recorded in the same manner as a sudden realisation of love. It is this level undercurrent of Grimwood’s narrative voice that binds the novel together, and that made me race through it at such an unprecedented speed.

The novel (which, I am afraid, is one of those that requires a family tree and a dramatis personae at the beginning – although if my brain could cope with this, so can yours) centres around Lady Giulietta, a young Venetian noblewoman, whose hand in marriage has been promised to a brutal foreign king, for the sake of a political allegiance. One has the impression that this kind of political power is genuinely all that matters to the members of Giulietta’s family that are orchestrating this connection, and indeed, much of the aristocracy at the time. The corruption of the court seems to trickle down the social ladder to every walk of Venetian life - there is very little trust and rather a lot of fear. The other main character (although there are several characters of importance) is Tycho – an unspeakably beautiful boy with silver-bright hair and strange eyes. He arrives in Venice with only the faintest memories and no understanding as to how he got there. His remarkable speed and reflexes attract the attention of the Duke’s chief assassin, who then attempts to recruit him to his secretive and elite group of hired murderers - the assassini. Tycho and Giulietta’s respective plotlines slide past each other, crossing and recrossing. And towering above these two protagonists is arguably the true main character: the city herself. Venice is a deceitful city with a beautiful face, behind which lies treachery and corruption. These elements combine into a deadly poison, and escalate towards the novel’s gripping conclusion.

Sorry for the complete lack of detail – I am most definitely not allowed to disclose important plot points. Still, I hope it creates some form of curiosity that will last until January. I can tell you now, that it will be an excellent book to read by the fire in the chills of winter! A quick summary: Grimwood (hah!) delivers an absolutely inspired take on assassins, werewolves and vampires - topics we’d all thought had been done to death (no pun intended). But, for me, it is the elusive Venice that draws one close, intoxicates, and withdraws – leaving the reader absolutely burning for more.