A Marvellous Light

Robin Blyth and Edwin Courcey are thrown together by accident. Robin was thrust into his job as liaison by a civil servant who didn't like him very much, and Edwin has to break the news to him that magic exists and his job is to find odd things to pass on to magicians. Edwin had expected to find Reggie in his post, and now has a mystery on his hands when a group of people now think Robin can help them find a contract in his brand-new office and leave him with a curse on his arm.

This historical fantasy-mystery-romance in Edwardian London has a fascinating hidden magic system. Robin knows nothing of magic so conversations, primarily with Edwin and his family, allow readers to be introduced to the rules of this magical system. Robin is a show more fun character, with a kind and cheerful disposition. Edwin is a bit more curmudgeonly, prefers books to people, and has a habit of overexplaining things that he's fascinated by. I couldn't help but love both of them. The romance of reluctant allies to lovers gets quite steamy. But the real selling point for me was the assured writing style of this debut, with a lot of dry humor coming from the narration and dialog. The ending was satisfying while leaving threads open for book number 2 in the trilogy. show less

I DEVOURED this, almost entirely on the long drive home for Christmas. I was a bit in awe of the balancing of the beats of all the genres this story encompasses — romance, mystery, historical fantasy. I kept thinking that eventually it would be revealed — which genre was truly at its heart, but the answer was ALL OF THEM. Also: GAAAAAAAAAYYYYYY.

Honestly, I worried my expectations for this book would be too high, as I've been listening to Marske talk about writing in general and this book in particular for YEARS, back from Be the Serpent days, that there would be no way the book could live up to everything I wanted from it. But I LOVED this. So hard.

Such a great holiday read.

Robin was definitely going to punch someone before the day was out.Robin was not above returning fire with rudeness where rudeness had been offered

Devo dire che, soprattutto nell'ultima parte, mi ha completamente catturata. Nel giro di due notti, l'ho terminato. Prima di arrivare a circa il 50% ho faticato un po'. Non perché non fosse bello o perché mi annoiasse, ma perché la mia soglia dell'attenzione era proprio inesistente. Ma arrivata a tipo il 54% è stato tutto una montagna russa!

He was in the mood to not talk with anyone and, as sometimes happened, felt perversely like surrounding himself with people to not-talk to.

La storia è bella, intrigante, interessante. Ben scritta e ci sono momenti niente male. Lo spicy, che non è il show more mio preferito, ci stava e non l'ho trovato completamente fastidioso. Quand'ero più giovane ho letto anch'io le fan fiction zozze anche se, sinceramente parlando, non è che mi interessi molto come genere. Ma la storia di questo libro e i personaggi mi hanno ugualmente catturata e ho sorvolato sullo spicy.

Robin’s first impression was still correct. Edwin was not handsome. But from this angle, with that smile like a secret caged in glass, he had . . . something. A delicate, turbulent, Turner-sketch attractiveness that hit Robin like a clean hook to the jaw.

La famiglia di Edwin è tipo da bruciare. Non se ne salva uno che sia uno. E i loro amici? Ugh, davvero da prendere a sberle. Robin e Maud? Preziosi. Ho amato Robin ma devo dire che anche Maud non si salva dalla preziosità! Edwin è un'incognita per ¾ del libro ma comunque si è fatto amare.

“All right,” Edwin said, soft. “All right. I’m keeping him safe. I’m trying.”

Il villain? Un grandissimo pezzo di sterco che non merita di respirare.
In generale un gran bel libro. I personaggi super interessanti e ben caratterizzati. È stata davvero una bella lettura, direi quasi rinfrescante. Avevo proprio bisogno di leggere un qualcosa che mi coinvolgesse così tanto. Era da un po' che non trovavo un libro così, mi mancava la sensazione. show less

In just a few paragraphs, I'm going to indulge myself here and let my thoughts ramble a bit, so this write-up will be as much inquiry as review, but I'll start with the review in condensed form. In A Marvellous Light, Freya Marske builds a world complete—detail after detail, one event leading into another, with an ethos just far enough off from the expected to surprise while feeling completely natural. This is utterly brilliant writing. Go, buy this book as soon as it's released, and clear your calendar for a day or two.

That said, a little background as a lead-in to the rambling—

Marske places her readers into a roughly turn of the 20th Century England, where magicians and non-magicians live side by side with the non-magicians having show more absolutely no idea of the parallel world they're also traveling through. Among the magicians, not everyone is equally powerful, and those with power in magic have power in their world, while those less powerful are shunted off into obscurity, where they make handy targets for mockery when those more powerful need a bit of entertainment. It's a viciously class-based society, though magic as much as money determines class position.

This England is profoundly sexist—which could be expected of any turn-of-the-century England. Both women and men have magic, but only men's magic is considered worth developing. The attitude is that any woman who attempts to study magic and to build her power will go mad long before she makes any real progress. This England is also profoundly homophobic, with Wilde's conviction for gross indecency only a few years in the past.

Our two central characters are gay men: non-magical Robin and magical Edwin. Edwin's magic is weak. He's also brilliant, even if he is too bullied and uncertain. Edwin believes in the systematic study of magic, not just the casual passing along of practices that currently dominates the British magical world. The two men meet when Robin is assigned to an apparently dead-end civil service position as—surprise!—a non-magical liaison to a magical world that is completely new to him. Edwin is Robin's equivalent within the magical world.

After this, the plot offers some familiar tropes, but only in the way that good stories tend to have common elements or arcs. Robin and Edwin fall in love (maybe) and battle complex powers of darkness that could accomplish who-knows-what-kinds-of-destruction. If any part of this summary might suggest that A Marvellous Light is the latest Harry Potter knock-off, let me assure you that it Most. Definitely. Is. Not.

And here comes the ramble, which I admit ahead of time perhaps gives the gender binary a sort of confirmed existence that I don't mean to credit it with...

I'm struck by the number of remarkably good books I've read in the last few years that are written by women (an assumption I'm making based on authors' names) but that are built around a passionate, yet fragile gay romance. Natasha Pulley offers an excellent example here with her three Watchmaker of Filigree Street titles and the stand-alone The Kingdoms. There's also Lindsay Faye's The King of Infinite Space. I can't abide straight romance, which I find ploddingly predictable. I also generally don't give a damn about how a straight romance works out. Because I'm a lesbian? Maybe. Because I've been immersed in that story line for my entire life and already know how the story ends? Definitely.

But a romance that involves two men, that has room for the uncertainties and the vulnerabilities that the gender binary has no use for—that kind of romance can move me to tears.

So what's that about? It's not as if gay men are anything new for me. But gay men created in detail by female writers seems to me both a particular accomplishment and a sign of the promising times we live in. The gender binary is breaking down—even if it's what led me to this line of thought. And that breakdown creates a wonderful flexibility within the world of love. We don't know all the ways we can be as humans, all the ways we can slide along that mythical but ever-present continuum of gender. "Things" are not what they once were, and I delight in the fact that the literary world is following (leading?) a broader, more celebrative path of human identity.

I received a free electronic review copy of this title from the publisher via NetGalley; the opinions are my own. show less

Robin Blyth thought he was being put into a minor government job where he discovers that he is actually the government liaison to a secret mage society Cursed by a member he becomes more and more entwined in this world and finds himself enjoying the company of the grumpy secret world liaison. Edwin Courcey is not best pleased with the new liaison but he has to help him. He can't deal with breaking in another one so soon.
It really dragged me in and I opened book 2 on my ereader (thank you Hugos) right after I finished this one. The switch when they stopped fighting each other and began fighting for each other was lovely.

Well this was an unexpected delight -- I really enjoy historical romances with queer characters, but it is often hard to get the balance right -- either it isn't believable at all or the romance lacks a certain something. This one is steamy, prickly, just right. Also, I've been disappointed in alt-magic universes before and this one is extremely good. And it's a series. And there's horticultural magic. It pretty much knocked my socks off. Great characters, who aren't necessarily nice, but who do grow on you. a fascinating mystery, and an interesting resolution. Really looking forward to the next book and seeing where this goes.

One of the best books I've read in 2021, and one of a very few books that I have purchased after borrowing from the library because I want my own copy to keep and re-read.

This debut had it all - fascinating world-building, clever writing, very British humor, and a taut plot (not fully resolved at the end of this book but not a cliffhanger either). The MCs were easy to root for, both individually and together. Edwin is bookish and insecure because his magic powers are minimal. Robin is an Edwardian bro with a good heart who also has self-esteem issues related to his late parents' very conditional love. Their relationship starts out with mistrust and changes to a tentative truce with unwilling attraction. Gradually there is a dawning show more realization that they see each other for who they are, support each other, and have very satisfying sex together. The "how did this person who is so different from me end up being the only one who gets me" trope is one of my favorites, and Marske does it to perfection.

The highest form of praise I can give this book is that it reminded me of the work of [a:K.J. Charles|7123498|K.J. Charles|https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1418032373p2/7123498.jpg], from the setting to the writing and the brilliant character arcs. I'm already eagerly anticipating the next book in this series and can't wait to see where Edwin and Robin go from here. show less