Soulless is a fantasy novel based on the premise that the separation of the Church of England from the Roman Catholic Church came about when King Henry VIII integrated the supernatural – namely vampires, werewolves, and ghosts – into English society, making them the first and only nation to treat them as anything other than the natural enemies of man. Soulless itself is set 300 years later, during the Victorian era, and the integration is now total. Oddly enough, the Victorian England of Soulless is not that different from the Victorian England of history, for reasons the author details in an interview recorded in the back of the novel:
A speculation arose: what if all those strange and unexplainable bends in history were the result of supernatural interference? At which point I asked myself, what’s the weirdest most eccentric historical phenomenon of them all? Answer: the Great British Empire. Clearly, one tiny island could only conquer half the known world with supernatural aid. Those absurd Victorian manners and ridiculous fashions were obviously dictated by vampires.
When she puts it that way, I have to admit that it seems as good an explanation as any.
So that is the world in which we find our heroine, Alexia Tarabotti. Miss Tarabotti is a well-bred spinster with an aggressively independent personality, no marriage prospects, and no soul. As one of the soulless, referred to politely as preternatural, or impolitely as soul-sucker, her touch cancels out all of the supernatural attributes of vampires, werewolves, and ghosts. Preternaturals are extremely rare, even relative to supernatural creatures, and so Miss Tarabotti’s nature is unknown to everyone outside of herself, the English supernatural community, and the relevant parts of Her Majesty’s Government. She is, in point of fact, the sole female preternatural in England, and is consequently something of a celebrity in supernatural circles. Miss Tarabotti is thus greatly put off when – having snuck away from a private ball to take some tea in her host’s library – she is accosted by a vampire, and a poorly dressed one at that. Appalled by his lack of manners, and his repeated attempts to feed on her, Miss Tarabotti resorts to thrashing him with her parasol and inadvertently ends up killing him.
The whole affair is quite a mess. Proper young ladies are not generally found, unaccompanied, in the presence of dead vampires. The Bureau of Unnatural Registry (BUR) is called in to investigate the incident, forcing Miss Tarabotti to renew her acquaintance with Lord Maccon, Earl of Woolsey, and Alpha of the London werewolves. Neither is entirely happy to see each other, as the occasion of their first meeting was marked by the unfortunate combination of a hedgehog and Lord Maccon’s backside.
Unfortunately for both of them, the young vampire manages to continue to be a nuisance even after his final demise when the investigation fails to determine his origins despite the mandatory registration of all supernatural persons with BUR. The local information broker, vampire hive, and a mysterious man with a companion made of wax all want to find out what Alexia Tarabotti knows. Before she knows it she finds herself caught up in a tangled mystery filled with an amorous werewolf, a gay as a goose vampire, octopuses, hysterical relatives, hideous hats, and tea.
Hopefully I’ve managed to convey a sense of the playfulness and humor that pervades Gail Carriger’s writing. I think she had a lot of fun writing this book, and it really carries over to the experience of the reader, as if the words themselves were suffused with a kind of energy. Her characters are also vibrant and distinctive, running the gamut from the flamboyant Lord Akeldama to the perpetually put-upon Professor Lyall. Thinking about any one of them can make me smile.
Soulless is also a mystery of sorts. In my experience mysteries usually come in two flavors: warped and byzantine, or obtuse and unfathomable. Both types generally leave me feeling more baffled than satisfied at their conclusion. Therefore, I consider the somewhat predictable perpetrator of this particular mystery to be a mark in the book’s favor.
At its heart, though, Soulless is a romance novel, of both the Victorian and paranormal varieties. Normally, the very notion is enough to set my teeth on edge. In this case the relationship is so authentically awkward that I instead found it nostalgically charming. Star-crossed lovers and forbidden relationships have been done to death. It was so nice to sit back and read about two people whose biggest obstacles were themselves.
In the end what ties it all together and makes it work is the humor. It is almost as if I can hear the author in the back of my mind saying, “Absurd? Werewolves are running a bureaucracy of the British government, and vampires aren’t allowed out at night unless properly dressed. Of course it is absurd. How could it be anything else?” I think anyone not fundamentally opposed to the paranormal romance genre will find something, if not everything, to enjoy in Carriger’s debut novel.
