When I first began reading Redemption in Indigo, I had no idea what to expect. Thanks to the Internet, I had become acquainted with the author prior to hearing about her first novel’s upcoming release. I didn’t know what her book was going to be about, but I knew I wanted to read it, because, frankly, she’s a pretty cool lady.
As it turns out, Redemption in Indigo isn’t quite like any other book I’ve read. Though I classify it as fantasy, it reads more like a folktale or legend–only fitting, since folktales were part of the inspiration. Moreover, it felt as if someone were relating the story to me in person rather than as if I were reading it. The voice of this novel is quite unique to me, and it’s one of things that I enjoyed the most.
Before reading this book, I didn’t quite have a grasp on the “magical realism” that I’ve heard so many people talk about. I couldn’t put my finger on what kind of story that phrase referred to, but after reading Redemption in Indigo, I do believe I understand. There’s a definite otherworldliness to an otherwise ordinary situation–well, of course there is. How could it be otherwise when dealing with supernatural spirits?
This book isn’t very long, and it’s packed tight with story. It’s probably the best example of a book that forgoes superfluous narration and keeps close to the point of the tale. No meandering here, and it’s all the stronger for it. The pacing is fast, too, so there’s no time for your attention to wander.
One of the highlights of the story is the character interaction: Paama and her husband, Paama and her family, and Paama and the djombi…each combination showed more and more of Paama as a person, adding to her character and complexity. To some degree, she remains the same throughout the story–the core of who she is and what she believes in does not change–but she learns a few things about the nature of the world and of the power she was given to look after that, I believe, changes her for the better.
The other characters were fascinating, as well. I had a particular fondness for the indigo djombi, and I sympathized with the reasons behind his gradual negligence toward humanity. Paama’s husband, Ansige, on the other hand, I couldn’t sympathize with at all, and that’s how it should be. I found him interesting, to be sure, but it was more of a slightly horrified interest. The early segments of the story, which explored the thought processes that fueled his gluttony, clearly demonstrated the reasons for Paama’s decision to leave him. The situations he got himself into as a result of his obsession were amusing, but there was never any question that they could have been avoided if he hadn’t been so greedy.
I never did quite pin down the time period in which the story took place, but I find that I don’t mind at all. The inability to put my finger on it was part of what made it feel like such a fantastical experience. One moment you’re in a city, the next in an agricultural community, and the next you’re traveling the world (not to mention time) with an immortal being–worrying about the timeline isn’t exactly important in a situation like that. I expect the lack of specifics is intentional, and I rather enjoyed the need to fill in the blanks with my imagination.
Redemption in Indigo is a quick, engaging read, and I expect that most readers will find it a fresh addition to the genre. I’ll certainly be looking forward to Karen Lord’s future books. Should she choose to revisit these characters in particular, I know I’d enjoy it very much.
