The Viper and the Urchin Review

This book came to my attention when the author emailed me, saying she'd seen that I'd reviewed and liked Lindsay Buroker's self-published Emperor's Edge series, and would I be interested in reviewing her own book, which held similarities to Buroker's work?

Well.  As an utter fanatic of The Emperor's Edge and its sequels, I search ceaselessly for books that recapture Buroker's style and magic.  Of course, I wrote the author back, saying yes, please send me your book!  At once! — I mentally added.

Now, having finished reading it, I can say that The Viper and the Urchin was a short, solid start to what looks to be a series with potential.  It indeed holds similarities to Buroker's Emperor's Edge —  they are both set in a industrial fantasy setting, with mild steampunk elements.  There are assassins, whose names both end in "us" — although Jeanjean's deadly alchemist Longinus is decidedly different from Buroker's consummate killer, Sicarius.

I didn't know what to make of Longinus at first.  I was slow to wrap my head around such a foppish — at times foolish — assassin.  As the novel drew onwards, I began to find him slightly endearing, although the brevity of the book, 262 pages, was not enough to explain his motivations for killing fully. He seems to be a gentler soul, so why is he drawn to murder? Besides [spoiler]it being his family's trade.[/spoiler] I hope my questions regarding this will be answered in Jeanjean's upcoming installments.

Longinus was not the only protagonist, however.  He shares narration with Rory, an 18 year-old city urchin who harbors ambitions of becoming a great swordsman, like her idol, the Scarred Woman.  Rory was your typical scrappy heroine, who has a heart of gold buried beneath the law-breaking behavior adopted to help her survive the cruel streets.  She discovers some embarrassing information about Longinus, and blackmails him — her secrecy in exchange for lessons in dueling.

Neither of these characters really flew off of the page for me, but I do have hope that they'll slowly be built up over time.

Where The Viper and the Urchin really impressed me was its political intrigue.  The story takes place in a tiny, muggy, little country called Damsport, which used to be the property of an empire about 45 years ago, give or take a decade.  Independence was won by Damsport's young Marchioness who then made a series of brilliant political maneuvers, turning Damsport into an international trade center.  When the empire tried to take Damsport back into the fold, the little country waged a Thermopolyae-esque stand, in time for its allies to push the empire back.  The emperor has been bitter ever since.

This aspect of the story really held my attention.  Going forward, it seems as if the politics will continue to develop, which is excellent.

The style of writing was good, at times showing signs of beginner wobbles, but solid all the same.  I particularly liked a descriptive passage that described Damsport's Wet Market:

The Wet Market was the centre of the Great Bazaar, and therefore the very heart of Damsport. But whereas most hearts pulsate, pumping out life’s blood, Damsport’s heart dripped.  Live fish and crustaceans dripped sea water onto the cobblestones, and dead fish dripped murky viscera. Blood dripped from meat cleavers, whey from cheesecloths, ale through the cracks of poorly constructed barrels, and piss from table legs, attesting to the passage of a stray dog.

Milk dripped from jugs, from udders, from chins; berries dripped juice, makeshift awnings dripped leftover rainwater, and priests dripped holy water. Sweat dripped from the faces of porters, bent under heavy loads, wine dripped down the chins of those checking its quality, and snot dripped from children’s and old men’s noses.  Fat dripped from sausages, dripping dripped from fried fish, vinegar dripped from prawn dumplings, eaten by hand straight from enormous bamboo steamers. Beer dripped from spilt tankards, mud-coloured tobacco water from water pipes, wine from broken bottles, brandy from over-hurried gulps, fire liquor from glasses dashed onto the cobbles, tea from teapot spouts, and more urine dripped from over-refreshed men.

All of it drip-drip-dripped onto the Wet Market’s cobblestones, found its way to the gutters, and trickled off along each of the Twelve, gathering speed thanks to the gentle downward slopes, and carrying the lifeblood and stench of the Wet Market out to the rest of Damsport.

A tad long-winded, but very evocative!

All in all, I give The Viper and the Urchin 3.5 stars — I liked the book and intend to follow the series, but the brevity of the novel and its subsequent lack of development makes me hesitant to rank it higher.  However, The Viper and the Urchin left me wanting more — truly a good sign. I very much look forward to seeing how Celine Jeanjean unfolds her debut series.