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hrjBefore getting into the review, just in case there are any Riverside fans among my readers who don't already know about it: there is a new addition to the Riverside corpus in the form of a multi-author serial story set some years before the time of Swordspoint. It's being produced through a site called Serial Box and is available by subscription, though I imagine that a compiled version will be available after the completion of the serial.
* * *
This review is going to be structured a bit oddly so that I have an excerptable “public review” within the more personal meanderings.
Several weeks ago, I posted a “review of my memory of The Privilege of the Sword” [hereinafter abbreviated “TPOTS”] in order to fix that memory before doing a re-read. I’m glad I did, because I definitely saw a number of characters and events differently this time through. I think that I was able to read “the book that it is” this time, and not “the book I wanted it to be”. But conversely, there were areas where my memory—even of the heartbreaking aspects—was a bit more starry-eyed than I found during this read-through. P.S., this time I've put the more personal analysis behind a cut because of spoilers, so feel free to read the rest of the review without fear.
Here begins the official review:
* * *
The Privilege of the Sword (TPOTS) is set in the same “Riverside” world as Kushner’s more popular Swordspoint, which it follows chronologically and which provides a great deal of character and plot background. In fact, I’d be willing to venture that much of the politics and social interactions of TPOTS might be rather confusing for those who haven’t read Swordspoint. This weakens the novel slightly because, although Katherine Talbert is structurally the central character of this novel, she is overshadowed in many ways by the angsty, brittle man-pain of bad-boy Alec Campion, Duke of Tremontaine, the central character of Swordspoint. If you look around at Riverside fandom, it’s inescapable that the tempestuous romance between Alec and the swordsman St. Vier is what most readers come for. And TPOTS sometimes (only sometimes) feels more like an opportunity to squeeze out another serving of Tremontaine angst onto the page than it feels like Katherine’s story. Or maybe it just feels that way to me because I’m reading for Katherine’s story and find Alec and St. Vier far less interesting.
In a sort of vaguely late-18th-century-ish society of glittering nobility in satin and lace, and with cut-throat undertones both in the back alleys of the Riverside district and in the back rooms of upper-class politics, Katherine Talbert is summoned to the city to be taken under the wing of her notorious uncle, the Duke of Tremontaine. For Katherine, the enticement is in part the lure of a glittering season, and in part her uncle’s promise to end his mysterious feud with her parents if she accepts. Tremontaine however has no intent to launch her in society—at least, not in the usual sense. Instead, he dresses her in men’s clothing and sets her to learn swordsmanship. This, along with her uncle’s reputation, becomes something of a bar between her and the rest of society, but she does succeed in striking up an acquaintance with Artemisia Fitz-Levi, a prominent debutante, who soon becomes betrothed to the much older Lord Ferris, who just happens to be an old rival and enemy of Tremontaine. (For which, see Swordspoint.)
The middle portion of the book is the braided story of Katherine’s training (including private tutelage under the self-exiled St. Vier), Artemisia’s careening path toward personal disaster, Tremontaine’s political scheming and social outrages, and the private dramas of a handful of Characters Who Will Be Important Later.
One thread that twines through several of these subplots is the novel (also staged as a play) of “The Swordsman Whose Name was Not Death,” a melodrama of fatally honorable swordsmen, dastardly villains, swooning damsels, and deadly peril. This novel lays the framework for Katherine’s decision to champion the honor of Artemisia at the point of a sword, which sets in motion the cascade of plots and counterplots that drive the story to its somewhat abrupt conclusion.
The writing is delightful and the world-building is detailed and solid. The secondary characters are nicely varied, though some lean a bit toward archetypes, at least in their initial introduction. I confess, though, that I wanted less of Tremontaine’s socio-political scheming and more about what Katherine does after the end of the current book. It would have felt more like it was truly Katherine’s story if the current end were instead the mid-book turning point. None of this is intended to indicate that I disliked the book. Katherine is a truly delightful character (which is why I wanted more of her) and if you like stories about brave and daring girls who fight duels for the honor of their friends and who get butterflies in the stomach at the thought of kissing a famous actress…well, this is definitely a book for you.
* * *
And now we return to the sexual politics deconstruction that isn’t part of my on-record review.
In my memory of my first reading, Katherine was equally attracted to Artemisia and to Marcus and therefore it seemed a cheat and a bait-and-switch that the story took the heteronormative road and paired her off with Marcus. That was how it happened in my memory, but my memory isn’t entirely accurate.
On this read-through, I was halfway through the book and thinking, “Did I entirely imagine that Katherine was attracted to women at all?” Every indication based on her thoughts, reactions, and comments defaulted to assuming attraction to men. Up until the scene in the opera dressing room. But conversely, except for her interactions with Marcus, that scene in the opera dressing room was the only context in which she was shown feeling sexual desire. It came as rather a disappointment to me to notice, on the re-read, that Katherine’s “romantic” interactions with Artemisia are all in the literary-romance context, with the two of them taking on and playing out roles from “The Swordsman Whose Name was Not Death” and using those personas to frame and drive their relationship. Katherine may have romantic feelings towards Artemisia, but I don’t really recall her being shown feeling sexual desire for her.
There’s a point in Katherine’s sexual explorations with Marcus where a point is made about “having sex with your best friend” and I think that was when it hit me that TPOTS doesn’t seem to show women having serious, genuine friendships with other women. Men have deep and binding friendships with men. Men and women can have genuine friendships as well as relationships based on desire or familial bonds. But women’s friendships are shown as being contingent (“do our husbands get along?”) or as play-acting (Katherine and Artemisia) or as part of power jockeying (the two actresses).
And this is important because this is a choice that the author has made. The real-world historical social structures that inspired the workings of the world of Riverside can set the background, but even in those historic societies (never mind in the fantasy extrapolations from them that we see here) it is still possible for women to go beyond the superficial constraints on their relationships and form deep and binding friendships just as much as men do. The one thing that--in my mind--makes the direction of the story not a cheat and a bait-and-switch is that Katherine and Artemisia are never allowed to become true friends, and so it seems unsurprising that they never become lovers. But the story that I wanted was the one where Katherine has female friendships that are as deep and as solid and as filled with romantic and erotic potential as her friendship with Marcus.
The book ends with Katherine never having further explored her sexual desire for women (or, at least, not that we are allowed to know) and with no indication that such an experience is pending. But conversely, my memory that she ends up romantically paired with Marcus is also false. In the final scene, there is still an easy friendship between them, but nothing that indicates a particularly romantic relationship, or even necessarily an ongoing sexual one. Given the world of Riverside—and the particular mores of the house of Tremontaine—there really isn’t an expectation for her story to end with Happily Ever After pair-bonding. And given her youth and inexperience, it’s probably a good thing for Katherine to spend some time getting to explore just what and whom she wants in that line. But I did so want to be given at least a few scraps of hope that her future would involve kissing girls. (And more.)
I revise my previous judgment of TPOTS: this time I found it less heart-breaking, but only because I found it to be not quite as close to almost-perfect. But I retain my reaction that there are lots and lots and lots of stories where the brave, daring, honorable girl with the sword kisses boys, and it would have been far from a tragedy in this one story to have her kiss more girls.
* * *
This review is going to be structured a bit oddly so that I have an excerptable “public review” within the more personal meanderings.
Several weeks ago, I posted a “review of my memory of The Privilege of the Sword” [hereinafter abbreviated “TPOTS”] in order to fix that memory before doing a re-read. I’m glad I did, because I definitely saw a number of characters and events differently this time through. I think that I was able to read “the book that it is” this time, and not “the book I wanted it to be”. But conversely, there were areas where my memory—even of the heartbreaking aspects—was a bit more starry-eyed than I found during this read-through. P.S., this time I've put the more personal analysis behind a cut because of spoilers, so feel free to read the rest of the review without fear.
Here begins the official review:
* * *
The Privilege of the Sword (TPOTS) is set in the same “Riverside” world as Kushner’s more popular Swordspoint, which it follows chronologically and which provides a great deal of character and plot background. In fact, I’d be willing to venture that much of the politics and social interactions of TPOTS might be rather confusing for those who haven’t read Swordspoint. This weakens the novel slightly because, although Katherine Talbert is structurally the central character of this novel, she is overshadowed in many ways by the angsty, brittle man-pain of bad-boy Alec Campion, Duke of Tremontaine, the central character of Swordspoint. If you look around at Riverside fandom, it’s inescapable that the tempestuous romance between Alec and the swordsman St. Vier is what most readers come for. And TPOTS sometimes (only sometimes) feels more like an opportunity to squeeze out another serving of Tremontaine angst onto the page than it feels like Katherine’s story. Or maybe it just feels that way to me because I’m reading for Katherine’s story and find Alec and St. Vier far less interesting.
In a sort of vaguely late-18th-century-ish society of glittering nobility in satin and lace, and with cut-throat undertones both in the back alleys of the Riverside district and in the back rooms of upper-class politics, Katherine Talbert is summoned to the city to be taken under the wing of her notorious uncle, the Duke of Tremontaine. For Katherine, the enticement is in part the lure of a glittering season, and in part her uncle’s promise to end his mysterious feud with her parents if she accepts. Tremontaine however has no intent to launch her in society—at least, not in the usual sense. Instead, he dresses her in men’s clothing and sets her to learn swordsmanship. This, along with her uncle’s reputation, becomes something of a bar between her and the rest of society, but she does succeed in striking up an acquaintance with Artemisia Fitz-Levi, a prominent debutante, who soon becomes betrothed to the much older Lord Ferris, who just happens to be an old rival and enemy of Tremontaine. (For which, see Swordspoint.)
The middle portion of the book is the braided story of Katherine’s training (including private tutelage under the self-exiled St. Vier), Artemisia’s careening path toward personal disaster, Tremontaine’s political scheming and social outrages, and the private dramas of a handful of Characters Who Will Be Important Later.
One thread that twines through several of these subplots is the novel (also staged as a play) of “The Swordsman Whose Name was Not Death,” a melodrama of fatally honorable swordsmen, dastardly villains, swooning damsels, and deadly peril. This novel lays the framework for Katherine’s decision to champion the honor of Artemisia at the point of a sword, which sets in motion the cascade of plots and counterplots that drive the story to its somewhat abrupt conclusion.
The writing is delightful and the world-building is detailed and solid. The secondary characters are nicely varied, though some lean a bit toward archetypes, at least in their initial introduction. I confess, though, that I wanted less of Tremontaine’s socio-political scheming and more about what Katherine does after the end of the current book. It would have felt more like it was truly Katherine’s story if the current end were instead the mid-book turning point. None of this is intended to indicate that I disliked the book. Katherine is a truly delightful character (which is why I wanted more of her) and if you like stories about brave and daring girls who fight duels for the honor of their friends and who get butterflies in the stomach at the thought of kissing a famous actress…well, this is definitely a book for you.
* * *
And now we return to the sexual politics deconstruction that isn’t part of my on-record review.
In my memory of my first reading, Katherine was equally attracted to Artemisia and to Marcus and therefore it seemed a cheat and a bait-and-switch that the story took the heteronormative road and paired her off with Marcus. That was how it happened in my memory, but my memory isn’t entirely accurate.
On this read-through, I was halfway through the book and thinking, “Did I entirely imagine that Katherine was attracted to women at all?” Every indication based on her thoughts, reactions, and comments defaulted to assuming attraction to men. Up until the scene in the opera dressing room. But conversely, except for her interactions with Marcus, that scene in the opera dressing room was the only context in which she was shown feeling sexual desire. It came as rather a disappointment to me to notice, on the re-read, that Katherine’s “romantic” interactions with Artemisia are all in the literary-romance context, with the two of them taking on and playing out roles from “The Swordsman Whose Name was Not Death” and using those personas to frame and drive their relationship. Katherine may have romantic feelings towards Artemisia, but I don’t really recall her being shown feeling sexual desire for her.
There’s a point in Katherine’s sexual explorations with Marcus where a point is made about “having sex with your best friend” and I think that was when it hit me that TPOTS doesn’t seem to show women having serious, genuine friendships with other women. Men have deep and binding friendships with men. Men and women can have genuine friendships as well as relationships based on desire or familial bonds. But women’s friendships are shown as being contingent (“do our husbands get along?”) or as play-acting (Katherine and Artemisia) or as part of power jockeying (the two actresses).
And this is important because this is a choice that the author has made. The real-world historical social structures that inspired the workings of the world of Riverside can set the background, but even in those historic societies (never mind in the fantasy extrapolations from them that we see here) it is still possible for women to go beyond the superficial constraints on their relationships and form deep and binding friendships just as much as men do. The one thing that--in my mind--makes the direction of the story not a cheat and a bait-and-switch is that Katherine and Artemisia are never allowed to become true friends, and so it seems unsurprising that they never become lovers. But the story that I wanted was the one where Katherine has female friendships that are as deep and as solid and as filled with romantic and erotic potential as her friendship with Marcus.
The book ends with Katherine never having further explored her sexual desire for women (or, at least, not that we are allowed to know) and with no indication that such an experience is pending. But conversely, my memory that she ends up romantically paired with Marcus is also false. In the final scene, there is still an easy friendship between them, but nothing that indicates a particularly romantic relationship, or even necessarily an ongoing sexual one. Given the world of Riverside—and the particular mores of the house of Tremontaine—there really isn’t an expectation for her story to end with Happily Ever After pair-bonding. And given her youth and inexperience, it’s probably a good thing for Katherine to spend some time getting to explore just what and whom she wants in that line. But I did so want to be given at least a few scraps of hope that her future would involve kissing girls. (And more.)
I revise my previous judgment of TPOTS: this time I found it less heart-breaking, but only because I found it to be not quite as close to almost-perfect. But I retain my reaction that there are lots and lots and lots of stories where the brave, daring, honorable girl with the sword kisses boys, and it would have been far from a tragedy in this one story to have her kiss more girls.
