I cannot say enough good things about The Gentleman. I want to hand out copies to strangers.
The characters are brilliant. Lizzie and Vivien are my new heroes. Lionel is an actual mess. I want to wrap Lancaster in a blanket. The devil is straight out of a Terry Pratchett novel (and the footnotes! I missed footnotes).
I’ve already fan-casted the movie and written a script in my brain. It’s going to be amazing.
I try to be indignant, but there is a mischievous voice in the back of my head which suggests I’m having rather a good time. (page 186)
Cabal’s at it again.
Taking place a short time after Johannes Cabal the Necromancer, Cabal finds himself absconding with an assumed identity aboard the maiden voyage of an Aeroship. (So…probably steampunk, then?)
Murder, mayhem, embarrassing dressing gowns. The best thing about The Detective (as it seemed like a standalone story and not part of the arc (as of now)) were little throw away lines that hint at Cabal’s past exploits: “Cabal could not have been more horrified if she’d pulled off her face to reveal a gaping chasm of eternal night from which glistening tentacles coiled and groped. That had already happened to him once in his life, and he wasn’t keen to repeat the experience.” (98) and “Cabal was filled with a presentiment and a strange foreboding that he hadn’t felt since the last time he’d watched the nightmare corpse city of R’lyeh rise, effulgent with the ineffable and fetid with fish, from the depths of the Pacific.” (123). We won’t even discuss the paragraph on 196 when Cabal made my heart hurt again.
I mean. C’mon.
“Oh?” said Zoruk. He sounded worn out and depressed. “And who would choose who lives and who dies?”
I would, ideally, thought Cabal. ( page 79)