This is a
novel about a secret organization that protects the world from supernatural
threats and for some reason names its agents after chess pieces (the organization
as a whole is called ‘The Chequy’). The Rook in question is Myfanwy Thomas, or
so she is told by a letter she wrote herself before losing her memory. She wakes up in a park with a circle of
unconscious people around her and two black eyes, and no memory of how she
arrived there, or, indeed, of having existed before that moment. There is a letter in her pocket from her
previous self, explaining that there are lots of people trying to kill her, and
telling her what to do. There is an interesting contrast between Myfanwy the
protagonist and Myfanwy the letter writer, hereafter referred to as Amnesiac
Myfanwy and Absent Myfanwy respectively; it seems that between losing her
memory and waking up she has acquired a whole lot of attitude and a desire to
kick people.
The memory
loss trope is dealt with reasonably well – the moments of uncanny dislocation
between Amnesiac Myfanwy’s expectations and the life she has found herself
living are mostly believable, and it allows the author to present the Chequy
and supernatural elements of the story through the eyes of the uninitiated.
However, there is no plausible explanation as to how or why Amnesiac Myfanwy
acquires this different character. There seems to be a naïve faith in the
existence of ‘normal’ people, so that Amnesiac Myfanwy is obviously horrified
by the weirdness of the stuff she encounters as a Rook, but is not surprised by
the fact that she is a woman, or speaks English, or is human and sentient.
Speaking of
women, O’Malley is not very good at women. The presentation of the main
character seems to be saying ‘oh, and by the way, SHE IS A WOMAN!’ at every
available opportunity. One notable occasion is when she tries to make a male
colleague uncomfortable by talking about going to the gynaecologist, only to
remember that said male colleague has three other bodies, of which one is
female (more about that later). But what I found more irritating is that Amnesiac
Myffanwy arises from nothingness with the ability to make aesthetic judgements
about Absent Myfanwy’s wardrobe choices and grooming regimen; to quote her reaction
upon looking at herself in a mirror for the first time:
I think I could do better, she thought. I won’t be able to hit the level of Hot, but I think I might be able to
manage Cute. If I have a big enough budget. Or at least some makeup to work
with.
So somehow between waking up in a park with no idea who she is and
getting herself to a hotel room, Amnesiac Myfanwy has managed to absorb the
cultural expectations of what constitutes an attractive woman and to objectify
her own body, using the descriptors ‘Hot’ and ‘Cute’ as classifications of attractiveness.
Aside from the fact that it is irritating that a woman is expected to judge
herself based on unattainable and artificial standards of beauty, the fact that
she is thinking about this at the time simply does not ring true. She has no
memory of who she is and no idea who is trying to kill her or why (obviously
loads of people are trying to kill her). The last thing one would expect to
worry about in those circumstances is how much one could resemble Barbie if one
tried. However, having said all that, perhaps the one redeeming feature of O’Malley’s
treatment of gender is that there is no ‘love interest’. Myffanwy is entirely
motivated by her own opinions and desires, when she finds out what those are.
Another
thing O’Malley isn't great at is Britishness. The story is set in London,
with the main character described as an Anglicised person of Welsh descent, but
he often slips up and uses Americanisms where they don’t fit – for example, he
refers to a character ‘going back to school’ when she is going to university.
He also uses the same words over and over again – for example, he talks about ‘weeping’
an awful lot (presumably because this is something WOMEN do…), and Myffanwy
often says ‘fuck’, or variants thereof. Some synonyms may have been nice. Or a
broader variety of swearwords… As it is, the use of language doesn’t really
help to position the narrative in Britain.
Aside from
his troubles with femininity and Britishness, O’ Malley does quite well. The
plot moves at a suitably breathless pace, the bad guys are really bad, the good
guys are really weird, and by the end you have a definite idea of who is which.
The supernatural elements are generally well-presented and more-or-less
believable – I was particularly fond of the house full of purple mould that ate
people. But I think the greatest achievement is Gestalt, Myffanwy’s
fellow-Rook, who has four bodies (three male and one female) but one
consciousness and identity. The Gestalt (as Myffanwy refers to him/her) is both
uncanny and intriguing, and perhaps more importantly, imaginable. The presence
of the four bodies has interesting implications for plot development as well,
so it’s not just a supernatural gimmick.
Overall, it
was a fun and engaging read, and I’ll definitely read whatever he writes next,
even if his attempts to see the world from a woman’s point-of-view have somewhat
bizarre results on occasion.
