July 2016: David Liss' Historical Novels

July's been a month with fewer pleasure reads (thanks to a more than busy month at work), but the novels of David Liss provided some enjoyable downtime. I'd had these on the shelf for some years (the spines looked so elegant in the living room) before finally digging in this summer. Due to their period flavor, the prose reads a bit slower than much contemporary fiction, but the books amply reward time spent reading. There's quite a bit of plot (with mystery/detective story elements), historical details of daily life and bigger economic/political systems, intellectual challenge, and interesting, likable but imperfect characters. 

Benjamin Weaver, the protagonist of A Conspiracy of Paper, A Spectacle of Corruption, and The Devil's Company is loosely based on an actual historical figure, Daniel Mendoza. Weaver is an ex-boxer; a former highwayman; a London Jew proud of his Portuguese vs. Eastern European heritage, not especially devout and estranged from his family when A Conspiracy of Paper opens; and a professional thieftaker, a kind of proto-detective-cum-bounty-hunter. It's this role that propels the plots of the books, as Weaver follows his own peculiar code of honor in the clients he takes and the jobs he pursues, not part of the justice system controlled by the aristocracy or 18th century London's world of organized crime. In each book, his case touches on matters of national historic significance and present-day resonance: in A Conspiracy of Paper, the ethics of the stock market and its establishment; in A Spectacle of Corruption, elections (the title speaks for itself); and in The Devil's Company, global trade with protectionism, monopolies, workers' representation, and technological innovation all in the mix.

Weaver may be Liss' most fascinating creation, but Ethan Saunders of The Whiskey Rebels was the more amusing narrator. (In The Whiskey Rebels, chapters in Saunders' POV alternate with chapter from Joan Maycott, whose prose is less compelling but who plays a key role in the action on the western Pennsylvania frontier.) Saunders is a disgraced Revolutionary War spy, a self-absorbed drunk and a rake, a romantic and a patriot. When he learns his former fiancee's family may be in danger, he's drawn into a conflict that reaches from the early capital of Philadelphia to the wilds of Pittsburgh and the financial markets of New York, one deeply entwined with Alexander Hamilton's new Bank of the United States and the question of what it means to value "liberty" and "pursuit of happiness."

Other July reads included Nalo Hopkinson's SFF short story collection Falling in Love with Hominids -- some good stories, but overall kind of "meh." I wasn't as drawn in, excited, or challenged as I generally am by her novels. I also re-read Lev Grossman's The Magicians, enjoying it just as much as the first time around (perhaps the highs seemed not quite as high but, better prepared, I found Quentin less annoying overall). In August, I'll finally find out how the trilogy ends.