Review: Blameless - Book the 3rd of the Parasol Protectorate

Good stories make me love good books. That’s the long and short of it when it comes to reading for most people, and I am part of most people. I rarely stick around with serial books, simply because they lose their pull after the second or third book.

So what’s with Gail Carriger’s third instalment in the Parasol Protectorate Series that’s making me wanting more? Besides a scandalously pregnant, half-British, half-Italian woman and a cross-dressing French woman who has a thing for fake moustache and hidden artilleries, and also let’s not forget a frighteningly efficient butler?

I implore those who picked up this book without reading the first two, please get the two books. You’d be doing yourself a lot of favours because you’ll be exploring a whole new world, where everything is made out of ether and machines rule the day, with cogs and steams and, yes, tea. Proper loose-leaf tea, made in freshly boiling water. The supernaturals – ghosts, vampires and oh yes, werewolves – have come out of their darkened closets, and are hailed as the epitome of the cultured class in the British Empire. Flying is also possible with dirigibles, and the only thing you need to fear is the food.

In this third instalment, I am happy to report a resounding success for both the characters and the author. Opening with a dismal breakfast over at the Loontwills, the scandalous matter of Alexia’s self-ejection from his husband’s mansion causes the females of the Loontwills to break out in fits and swoons, before declaring Alexia fit for a bout of the European continental travels. Meantime, Professor Lyall is handling Alexia’s sudden exodus rather difficultly, because his Alpha resorts to a Bacchanalian manner of dealing matters. Werewolves digest alcohol better than humans, so Lord Maccon switches to formaldehyde and has some rather crunchy snacks. But enough of that.

Lady Maccon’s tour of the Europe is constantly interrupted by deadly ladybugs, a spite of vampires bent on her death and doom, and a very irritating German who keeps addressing her as ‘Specimen’ rather than her name. She also meets some men wearing ‘nightgowns’ that keeps away from her but keeps her close by, if that makes any sense. (Of course it makes sense after reading it, though...) Lady Maccon’s father’s past also comes unravelling, albeit slowly.

This instalment is brilliant. I found myself reading it again and again just for the sheer delight across the pages, and this time there are a lot of action scenes, and none of the characters are limpid or weak-kneed here. Everybody pulls their collective weights and it makes the book simply sparkles with the rare infusion of wit and brawn. Even the little-present Lord Akeldama makes his presence count by giving a very important piece of information. It’s all a very robust-smelling Darjeeling tea. Four cups out of five.

A quote:

Alexia: "I read somewhere that the Templars have an initiation ritual involving a dead cat and a duck made from a rubber tree. Is that true?"

Templar: "We do not discuss the secrets of the brotherhood with outsiders. Certainly not with a soulless."

Alexia: "Well, certainly, you would like to keep that a secret."

Get the book here.