Gideon
At the Romance Writers of Australia conference last year, someone made a statement about books that hit me as truly profound. Authors, she said, are either storytellers or writers. Whichever one they fall into, they have to work really hard to develop the other skill, because truly great novels are a perfect meld of both.
Jacquelyn Frank’s Gideon is the second book in her Nightwalkers series – it is a storytelling book. I’ve been over paranormals for a good six months, tired of the endless rehashing of vampire and werewolf lore. I used to really like paranormals, but publishers throwing trash up on the bookshelves for my paranormal dollar have made me very leery. But the Nightwalkers world? It’s good. It’s very, very good. It’s different, it’s involved, it’s imaginative. It’s solid in a way most paranormals I’ve read over the last little while haven’t been.
Our main characters are Gideon and Legna, both of whom are demons. Gideon is the Ancient, the oldest demon in existence, and a medic of almost unlimited power. Legna is the sister to the King, a mind demon with the ability to read and control other people’s emotions. Her power makes her a very useful diplomat for her brother. The main action of the story, however, revolves around the hero and heroine of the previous novel – Jacob and Isabella. Bella is now pregnant with the first demon/druid child in centuries, and someone is unhappy about it. So unhappy, in fact, that they’re willing to commit murder to rid the world of both the baby and the vessel carrying it. Our main couple come together to protect Bella, and Gideon and Legna’s relationship builds against this backdrop of a looming battle.
Unfortunately, there are problems in the structuring of the novel that overshadow the otherwise interesting world and plot. First, the book opens with 73 pages of info-dump. Contrived conversations and unnatural deep point of view makes the beginning chapters unengaging. It’s obvious Frank has really thought through her world, but this information would have been better spread throughout the novel.
Second, the speech and dialogue comes across as stilted. Demons don’t use contractions. I think the author tried to show their timelessness, but it created an instant barrier between the characters and the reader. I had a hard time believing that demons are a close, intimate, warm society because they speak so formally to each other. Dialogue was similarly stiff, making the resolution between the two main characters seem incomplete.
The heroine threw up personal problems for me. Legna, from what I could tell, has no faults. She is beauty inside and out, coddled and adored by everyone around her. Which kinda made me want to hate her. Gideon feels like he doesn’t deserve her, even though he’s ancient and wise, and, frankly, I’m surprised he ever gets up the courage to touch her. Not that Gideon is touchable. He’s so old that he figures he knows everything and can do whatever he wants. Also, he has some angst issues that keep him from having friends, or really, anyone close to him at all. He’s the demon equivalent of House. Except that I find House sexy. So I sorta dug that.
Other characters are better developed. We see a lot of Jacob and Isabella, and they are two very relatable characters. I especially liked the lycanthrope Queen, who will become the heroine in the next book, Elijah.
Finally, the catalyst for the leap forward in the relationship was incredibly manufactured. The overreaction moved the plot forward, it’s true, but it was so out of character that I flipped back a few pages to see if I’d missed a possession or something.
As I said, Frank is a storyteller. The plot is the book’s backbone, and it is fascinating, with lots of history and back story, and a very intriguing future being set up, tying together the many cultures in the Nightwalker society. The author has worked, and worked hard, to create a living, breathing society, and for the most part, she’s succeeded. But it’s a hard slog getting through to the gems. The story itself suffers under the way it was told. If, as a reader, you’re willing to do the work necessary, the last half of the book – when the plot takes over – is worth it. If, however, you’re not willing to make it through 200 pages for the last 150, leave Gideon on the shelf.
