Gideon the Ninth

Wow. This is one hell of a weird book. Gideon the Ninth is a grimdark sci-fi / fantasy / horror story, one part Alien, one part Dying Earth, starring a post-adolescent Xena the Warrior Princess. It’s also a gruesome locked-room murder mystery where the locked room is actually a decrepit, thousand-year old space castle. And it’s one of the best books I’ve read this year.

If you’re at all intrigued by the brief description above, I highly encourage you to just step away from this review and go read the book. I’m not going to include any spoilers, but given the way the various plot threads unfold, I think you’ll get maximum enjoyment out of this one if you head in like I did: completely blind with no expectations at all.

With that out of the way, the briefest sketch of a plot summary goes like this: ten thousand years ago, the Emperor Undying united the solar system against an enemy so relentless that to defeat it he needed to become the most powerful Necrolord the worlds had ever seen. He was very nearly a god, and eight of his fiercest and most loyal generals were transformed into Lyctors (read: angels), leading his armies to victory.

But even commanding such awe-inspiring power, the best he and his followers could do was to contain their foe in an eternal prison – the Locked Tomb. The Emperor and his Lyctors founded the Nine Houses, each one tasked with preserving and fostering a specific aspect of the empire and/or the necromantic arts. Now, ten thousand years later, the Lyctors are fading, and the call goes out to the ruling houses to send their heirs to compete in a trial. The winner(s) will ascend as Lyctors themselves, buttressing the fading might of the Empire.

The thing that most impressed me about Gideon the Ninth is how many different balls it managed to keep in the air. There’s the political intrigue and worldbuilding – why does the 8th House despise the 9th? Can the 7th House’s adept be trusted, or is her show of fondness for Gideon just a ploy? Then there’s all the interpersonal drama. Pretty much everyone is more than a little bit extra, and there’s an almost surreal amount of hatred, loathing, and arrogance on display at every turn. This naturally leads to constant clashes and showdowns, which could come across as a bit forced and melodramatic, but doesn’t; instead, it feels more like we’re seeing just how frayed the threads are that hold this crumbling empire together. (That, and maybe centuries of inbreeding among a dwindling population can make folks a tad unstable?)

Gideon herself is a bit of an unknown, too – a foundling literally dropped into the 9th House from the sky. Who were her parents, and how is she able to survive traumas that would end most other mortals? (I honestly wondered a few times if maybe Gideon was actually never really alive at all, just an animated zombie with delusions of free will. Was I right? Well, I promised no spoilers, but this is the kind of book where that absolutely seems like a legit possibility.) And as for everyone else… there are more masks here than a Scooby-Doo marathon. Is anybody really who they say they are? Or let people assume they are? 

All of these smaller mysteries are woven into the bigger, overarching one: what the heck is going on with this ascension trial? The hosts refuse to give any explicit clues as to exactly what’s expected of their esteemed guests, or what “winning” the trial actually looks like. It’s not even clear if each house is supposed to go it alone, or whether teaming up is a viable (or maybe inevitable) strategy. So it’s up to everyone to puzzle the whole thing out for themselves… and then people start dying. Ruthless competition? Just part of the trial? Interference from homicidal necrotic constructs? The tension just keeps rising with the body count.

Gideon the Ninth isn’t the kind of “fair play” mystery where a good sleuth who pays close attention can fit together all the pieces of the puzzle before the reveal(s), but enough hints and clues are dropped that you’ll have plenty of theories and suspicions to nurse as the story careens along. My own track record was a delightful mix of “Yassss! I KNEW it!” and “WTF!? You’re kidding me!”, pretty much in equal measure.

There are a couple of reasons you might want to give this book a pass. Don’t read it if you want a cast of sympathetic characters, for example, or if you’re craving a traditional hero’s journey arc. And don’t read it if the idea of a badass lesbian protagonist immediately sets off “woke propaganda” alarm bells in your head. On the other hand, if you’re tired of the same, predictable fantasy tropes and the idea of a goth punk Elric/Raistlin/Red Sonja mashup tickles your fancy, you should definitely give it a shot. Also highly recommended if you love a good whodunnit, want to be kept guessing every step of the way, and aren’t put off by the idea of necromancers on space stations sowing knucklebones in the dirt to raise skeleton armies. Because that happens more than once.