There are books that blend genres , like a steampunk Latinian language . And then there are Book which take all the toy in the genre box seat and bedevil them onto the primer , assembling a brilliantly glittering collage from the shards .
Genevieve Valentine ’s Mechanique , a steampunk / post - revelatory / magic - realist / paranormal risky venture , is one of those rarefied books that will transform your sympathy of genre . It ’s a genuinely literary book that apply the constituent of genre to tell the verity about people . befittingly for a book about acrobats and tumblers , this book both soars and confounds your expectation .
Spoilers ahead …

In Mechanique , the Mechanical Circus Tresaulti journey through a shattered earth , where civilization has collapsed , and the macrocosm has originate old . The genus Circus is both mechanical and charming : The main performers in the genus Circus are all post - humans who have been translate and remade by the circus ’ ringmaster , who ’s know only as Boss . They are enhanced with mechanical parts , or given fresh legs — or , in the case of the trapeze girls , their bones have been removed and replaced with lightweight hollow pipes . Not surprisingly , this transformation come with a unconscionable toll , and these performing artist are both hauntingly gorgeous and scarily grotesque .
You ’ll be prompt of the “ remade ” multitude in China Miéville ’s Bas - Lag novel — although in the case of Valentine ’s remade carnival performers , they ( mostly ) chose this .
Once Boss has changed your body , you ’re no longer the somebody you were — you get a fresh name , of Boss ’ choosing , and you are draw together to the carnival , via some sort of magical link . And often with the newfound power comes a new frangibility .

In Valentine ’s novel , two main secret plan screw thread converge : There is a ruthless government man , who covets Boss ’ power to transform people , which he thinks could make him a posthuman demigod and aid him create an unstoppable army . And meanwhile , two circus performers , an aerialist name Bird and a strong man named Stenos , both covet a duo of beautiful melodious wings that used to belong to a gorgeous flying man refer Alec .
Here ’s how Valentine describes the annexe :
They are almost the same as any other bundle of pipes and combat in her workshop . Half a dozen performers have fall in the circus since ; none of them has founder the wings a 2d glance .

But if you are single - minded as Bird , or as hungry for halo as Stenos , then you see them .
If you are like them , then when you enter the workshop there is no sight of fleck , no steel table pass over almost clean of blood . There is no terrifying wrack of drills and ratchet , no coils of cord to lash your bone back in home . There is no gaffer to inflit her will on you , to build you up and wake you with a novel name and a body she knows will look good at the center of the stage .
For you , the world narrows to a single point as you maltreat inside the workshop . ( This is what materialize when you take a step ; you are displace nearer to something you want . )

For you , the workshop is only the ceiling that has been pitched over your wait wing .
The only trouble is , none of the novel ’s schemers understand what they ’re crave . The government man does n’t realize the forces he ’s mess with , and the nature of the ability he wishes to have — and the magic that powers the circus total from a variety of benign lawlessness that is antithetical to the government man ’s desire for total order . Meanwhile , Bird and Stenos covet the wings without realizing the curse that arrive with them — the curse that made their previous owner choose to pass instead of flying .
The choice — to take flight or to fall — is at the centre of Mechanique , in which the performers only remain aloft because of an endeavor of will , not to observe the trustfulness of their colleagues . Two performers have fall before the novel begins , and both falls couch the narrative — one due to a failure of will , the other due to a bankruptcy of trust .

In a creation where endless wars have torn the metropolis and countryside apart , and many of the circus performer are former soldiers and refugees , set on a brazen show , and flying in the peak of a big tent for everyone to see , command a certain amount of audacity .
And the arcanum at the center of Mechanique is that creating beauty and performance in the middle of a horribly scarred earthly concern requires cruelty . The cruelty of the circus is almost as slap-up as its beauty . And there lies the dichotomy between loveliness and grotesquery of Boss ’ brass - and - form foundation .
One word of carefulness : Mechanique is a stylistically challenging book , that uses draw of apt tricks to open up the mankind to the reader . The tale alternate between third - person past tense and first - person present tense — occasionally dunk into second - person present tense . The teller occasionally slips in foreboding judgment of conviction , encased in parantheses , almost as if a 2nd , gloomier , narrator were inserting chunks of unwelcome insight . The good news , though , is that these devices actually do enrich the tale — and more significantly , they become transparent pretty promptly , so that you stop noticing after the first 20 pages or so .

Plus it ’s all in the Robert William Service of a enceinte story , and Valentine ’s prose is strong enough to bear you along while still astound you with the casual adorable good turn of idiomatic expression . ( And there are also gorgeous illustrations , by the talented yaoi artist and casual io9 contributorKiri Moth . )
In a world of music genre mashups and postmodernist genre conflations , Mechanique is something unique and elegant . It ’s an artful book that call for authoritative interrogation about art and creation , that you ’ll be left muse long after you ’ve closed the last Sir Frederick Handley Page . Like a circus , Mechanique shows you befuddle , electrifying sights , and then moves on , leaving everything almost as the book go forth it .
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