TITLE: Flesh and Spirit (#1 of the Lighthouse Duet)
AUTHOR: Carol Berg
GENRE: Fantasy
PUBLISHED: 02/01/2007
RATING: ★ ★ ★ ★ ☆
PURCHASE LINKS: Amazon
MOBILISM LINK: Mobilism
Review: Winner of the Mythopoeic Fantasy Award (Adult Literature) in 2009, Flesh and Spirit is very different to the standard fantasy fare. It definitely deserves its accolades, but my feelings about the book are mixed.
The story opens with the main character, Valen, grievously wounded on an empty road. To make matters worse, it’s raining, and his only friend has just robbed him. Valen is determined to at least die face-up, because his mother has many times predicted he would die face-down in the mud, and he is damn well going to prove her wrong.
Of course, it would be a very short book if it ended there; I don’t consider it a spoiler to tell you that he doesn’t die. Rescued and taken into a monastery, Valen survives his wounds only to become embroiled in a complicated, completely unexpected plot. I don’t know if more perceptive readers will put the pieces together much faster than I did, but when the secretive behaviour of the monks was finally explained I was taken completely by surprise. Berg has crafted a very unusual story, more complex than most post-2000 novels tend to be. It’s not that there are several layers and multiple ‘sides’ to what I hesitate to call a conflict; anyone who enjoys secondary-world fantasy is used to that. But it is not so straightforward as the standard ‘saving the world’ storyline; there’s no Sauron-knockoff that needs defeating, and no chosen one, even though the world is most definitely ending. There’s not even any clear ‘bad guys’, since even those arrayed against Valen have, when it comes down to it, very understandable motivations for what they’re doing (which, of course, makes for very good villains indeed). There’s a strong environmentalist thread throughout the story, possibly influenced by the concerns about climate change in our world, since that’s how Valen’s world is going down – naturally, with longer and harsher winters and blights attacking harvests and leaving thousands of people to starve – but it’s never preachy. There are no ‘lessons’ to be learned from the Lighthouse Duet; Berg doesn’t try to talk ‘green’. It’s all about the story.
This is where, in my opinion, Berg falls down. Having read both books, I can tell you that Breath and Bone, book two, is much more exciting and all-round more enjoyable, but Flesh and Spirit is… well, a bit dull. It’s slow. Especially the first half, during which Valen doesn’t really have a clue what’s going on; but even for the second half of the novel I never really felt engaged. It was often an effort to keep reading, even though I cannot explain why: the writing is clear and beautiful, and the world-building very interesting (Berg is the first author I’ve ever seen to invent new measurements for her world – no miles and inches here, but her own terms. I unabashedly loved this; it’s a tiny detail that makes everything feel much more real), but the mysteries, even when they took me by surprise, never gripped me. Once all is revealed (and not everything is in book one; most of the truly interesting reveals happen in the sequel) the story becomes much more addictive, but until then… Flesh and Spirit suffers from second-book syndrome, even though it’s the first book in a duet instead of the second part of a trilogy: it’s all laying groundwork for later, with very little to hook you into the current moment. Despite having read Flesh and Spirit twice, I still can’t name a single character except for Valen.
And Valen is a very good character. Not really likable, for the most part – he himself, as the first-person narrator, never tries to brush aside his many flaws: he’s a drug addict and spent most of his young life deliberately tormenting his family (although to be fair, they definitely started it first). He’s refreshingly honest even as he’s not quite sympathetic, but he’s interesting, which matters rather a bit more. He’s also illiterate, to the point where I think he’s actually dyslexic, although since Valen’s world is more or less medieval he never describes himself that way, and everyone around him is convinced he’s just lazy. The major game-changing plots happen around Valen, and he eventually becomes part of them, but his own arc interested me far more: Valen is a Pureblood, a member of a family with magic in their veins. Valen’s family is one whose skill surrounds tracking and map-making (and Berg again gets points for creating a magical power I haven’t seen before), but Pureblood abilities come with a horrific price – namely, the truly awful restrictive lifestyle. Purebloods are basically slaves in silk and satin, with everything from what they eat to whom they marry (and how many children, if any, they must have) decided for them by other people. Supposedly this is all an immense privilege, and one thing that did confuse me was why Valen was the only one who really disagreed, but it was also the part of the story that garnered the strongest emotional reaction from me – absolute horror. Valen, as a runaway, faces true slavery without the luxurious varnish if he is caught and returned to the dreaded registry – not to mention the control of his Hitler-esque father – and that, more than any other plot-line, was what had me biting my nails and my stomach in knots, anxiously turning pages to make sure that Valen stayed ahead of those hunting him. I really didn’t care about the world ending all that much, but I really cared about Valen.
There’s little more I can say without giving away an unforgivable amount of plot. Valen’s arc occurs alongside the already-mentioned budding apocalypse and a power struggle between the three sons of the late king, which Valen is far more involved in than he knows. There’s also a great deal of clues dropped that don’t come together until book two; I usually never see the big reveals coming, but I feel pretty confident in saying that few readers are going to be able to put the pieces together by the end of Flesh and Spirit. The information all makes sense in hindsight, but Flesh and Spirit doesn’t give us enough context to be able to understand all the hints: however, Breath and Bone is definitely worth reading, so even if Flesh and Spirit becomes boring at times, I would urge everyone who picks it up to stick with it. It gets much, much better, I promise!
As a final aside, I’d just like to mention that Berg includes an outright homosexual character, while Valen’s sexuality is definitely under question. He’s stated several times as having had homosexual encounters, although he claims to be straight and expresses interest in a young woman over the course of the books (although as far as I remember, it’s never consummated). It’s a conundrum, but the presence of male prostitutes and the lack of homophobia seems to suggest that Valen’s world is one that doesn’t care about sexuality. And you should know by now, I always grant points for things like that.
And last but not least, this is my favourite line in the entire novel. I think it gives a very good idea of Berg’s gorgeous imagery while simultaneously showcasing her world-building skill. I hope it encourages people to go pick the book up!
As her home in Avenue lay too far distant for her to attend on such short notice, her place was marked by a porcelain bowl filled with rosebuds. How had they marked my empty place all these years? A tin plate of thorns?