There are some books that make you wonder how it ever got to the printing press. Then there are others that defy hyperbole and uplift your soul. You wonder what set the authors on this path, and how the strange alchemy of thoughts and feelings became magic. On my bookshelf, there are fewer than five books that qualify as such. Dorothy Dunnett’s Lymond Chronicles is one, and Robin McKinley’s The Blue Sword is another. Freedom & Necessity is now joining that very short list.

This is not a book that will please everyone. There are moments of intense philosophical debate between James Cobham, the chief male protagonist, and his cousin Richard. The entire book consists of letters between the participants. Events are sometimes referred to in passing before described in full, and the plot is complex, to say the least. And the prose, although readable, is Victorian in the extreme (i.e. chunky). But you only get what you put into it, right? And this book amply rewards your efforts.

Ignore any descriptions that call this book historical fantasy; it’s not. The fantasy is non-existent; instead, the plot is stationed firmly in 1849 England and political/philosophical matters of the time, and concerns four young relatives. The first is James Cobham, a generally affluent man-about-town who drowns in a river, then resurfaces at a country inn two months later with no idea how he got there. Corresponding with his cousin Richard, they slowly, painfully try to put together the pieces surrounding his mysterious reappearance.

On the female side, we have Kitty Holbourn and Susan Voigt. Kitty is James’ stepsister and Richard’s lover (no blood relation); Susan is second cousin to both Richard and James. Susan and Kitty are best friends and, while Kitty holds the fort at Richard’s home, Susan goes off investigating the plot surrounding James. Part of it is her own natural curiosity and intelligence; the other part is that she’s in love with James.

I don’t mind telling you, this was often a complex, convoluted, confusing read for me. I didn’t understand everything the first time, and I often had to flip back and forth to remind myself of events or catch the details that I had missed. (That family tree at the beginning got permanently bookmarked.) But that’s part of the intense enjoyment I derived from the book. I sank into the plot, and relished the characters, and if there are questions arising (such as the issue of Kitty being Richard’s lover – they do so openly, and yet both are well-born), well, I assume I’ll catch it on a second read.

The characterization is complex and incredibly vivid. Each character has distinct voices that come through in their letters: Richard writes short, straightforward sentences, James’ prose is florid and colorful, Kitty is clearly an adorable, rambling sort who is nonetheless very smart, and Susan is highly intelligent but also romantic. Yet none of them are exaggerated caricatures. I’ve read Steven Brust and Emma Bull before, individually, but this collaboration, with its fluidity and depth, blows me out of the water.

I’m not sure, realistically, that I can do this book justice. Know, though, that I will re-read Freedom & Necessity; that it kept me glued to the pages, and made me think; that the romances between Richard and Kitty, and James and Susan, have a depth and strength similar to that between Francis Crawford of Lymond and Philippa; and that I am in total awe of Mr. Brust and Ms. Bull. This is a keeper. Unquestionably.