She felt as if she’d dropped something and, were she to stoop to retrieve it, things would pass over her head. Things like Edgar Allan Poe’s pendulum, the planes that flew into the Twin Towers, the howling Chelyabinsk meteor, and the angel of death. Stop and tie your shoe, Taryn, said a voice in her head. You have work to do, Taryn. Walk away. Taryn’s shoes were closed-toe, open-waisted sandals with buckles, not laces. [loc. 465]
It starts in a library, with two sisters witnessing attempted arson. Or perhaps it starts by a river in 4th-century Britain, with two sisters raising children. Or perhaps with Noah's raven, 'that loneliest of birds', eating Odin's eye and splitting into two, Knowledge and Memory. ("Everyone supposes they’re brothers, but any wise male god will have female advisors.")
But perhaps where it starts is with Taryn Cornick, author of The Feverish Library, a bestselling book about the things that threaten libraries. (Each section of The Absolute Book is titled after a section of Taryn's book, for instance Insects; Fire; Carelessness; Uncaring.) She makes an ill-advised arrangement in the wake of her sister's murder, and discovers that she has a soul.
It would be futile to recount the twists and turns of this marvellous novel, which takes Taryn from Norfolk to the Land of the Pact, to Purgatory, to the Isle of Apples and to a book festival in Auckland. Early in her adventures she encounters the mysterious Shift, who can move between worlds: Taryn, and Jacob Berger (a detective who is very keen to speak to Taryn) are drawn after Shift, who doesn't seem to belong anywhere, whose nature and heritage are opaque, it seems, even to himself. And the three are drawn into a quest for an ancient relic: for this is, among other things, a fast-paced thriller featuring an ancient prophecy, a cosmic conspiracy and some fearsome adversaries.
But there is more to it than that: there is so much more in it, from the Brexit referendum to the Matter of Britain, from a new work by Franz Schubert to a New Zealander named Peter who directs fantasy epics, from the Voynich Manuscript to Moominmamma's painted garden, from the wrong sort of worshipper to a shapeshifter's unsettling wardrobe ...
I absolutely adored this long-awaited novel (hard to acquire in the UK, but you can buy physical or ebook from Victoria University Press), and have now read it twice. (I liked Taryn more the second time around, and noticed many more significant details: Knox is a fearsomely precise writer, and nothing is there without reason.)
And the ending is a delight: more than mere resolution, it heralds deliberate, thoughtful changes that affect many worlds. A joyful and exuberant novel, replete with optimism and meticulously observed.
‘We British. We can’t offer straightforward compliments on anything of substance. We operate on the meanest band of enthusiasm and—if we’re of your class—remind people that too much fervour is vulgar. While my class just josh people out of their enthusiasms, make mock, burst the bubble of anybody giving themselves airs—anyone who has made a bubble just to be able to breathe.’ [loc. 7448]
This is me offering a straightforward heartfelt fervent compliment, and profound thanks, for this breathing-space.
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