“I’m not the man I used to be, Aristide.”
“Darling, you never were. Neither was I.” [loc. 5229]
Five years after the events of Armistice, eight years after the events of Amberlough: the leader of the One State Party has been assassinated, but the new memorial on Temple Street isn't for him. Aristide Makricosta, living in exile in tropical Liso, has been invited to the dedication ceremony for the memorial, and has refused emphatically. But perhaps, with the right companion ...
In Amberlough, the Ospie regime has been overthrown, and two parties are vying for victory in the upcoming elections. Lillian DePaul is working for the transitional government and forging alliances with both Forward Gedda (liberal but somewhat naive, headed by a veteran of the revolutionary group known as the Catwalk) and the more conservative faction led by industrialist Emmeline Frye. Lillian doesn't care which of them she ends up working for: in this, as in other matters, she turns out to be considerably more ruthless than her brother. Her partner Jinadh is unhappy with her priorities: her teenaged son has been excluded from school due to some challenging behaviour. (He is fascinated by his uncle's career.) Lillian is trying not to repeat the mistakes that their parents made with Cyril: only now is she starting to recognise how little choice he was given about working for the intelligence services. Sadly, this is not a narrative that will wash with the populace.
Amnesty is about what happens after the revolution: after the fascist regime has been toppled, after the bombs have been planted, after the collaborations and the subterfuge. What can you do when your agenda is imperilled by the war criminal in the family? How much will you risk to be reunited with a lost lover? What place is there for an ageing spy in the new regime? And what counts as justice, when so many have died because of you?
It's hard to discuss the emotional resolutions of this novel without spoilers: highlight to read ...
Cordelia's death, 'off-screen' between Armistice and Amnesty, hit me hard. I kept hoping it would all turn out to be an elaborate ruse, or a case of mistaken identity, or rumour and hearsay solidified into 'fact'.
Aristide's behaviour is not that of a rational man. He's madly in love, all right. Daoud gets a raw deal, but I applauded his final words to Ari: "I expect an excellent reference". But then Ari is unwell -- years of drinking and bad habits, and he's scared to go back to the doctor ... One wonders how long he'll last, in Ishin Sao.
But then Cyril is in surprisingly good health, at least physically, for someone who's endured eight years on the front line of a conflict that happens -- again -- off-screen. I didn't get as much sense of Cyril's presence in this volume, but that's hardly surprising given his state of mind. He's much more passive than in Amberlough.
But I am glad that Ari and Cyril choose exile, together, and a quiet life: and glad that Cordelia's memory is revered: and hopeful that Lillian can rebuild her family and her career.
I was especially pleased by the return of Ari's fake stutter. Though it did make me want to return to the first volume ...
[And now I'm actually all caught up on my reviews, for the first time in years, because I'm ... not quite ready to start reading something new, not until my crush on these books and these characters starts to fade.]
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