Paperback, 263 pages
Published Oct. 7, 2019 by NZ ISBN Agency (National Library of New Zealand).
The Dawnhounds is full of things: magic, pirates, flawed characters, strange gods, mysterious voices, a good measure of horror, priests and cops, political intrigue... it does feel a bit much at times, yet it works and hopefully, more is explained in the #2 of the trilogy.
Great world building, interesting characters and some snappy dialog, but the pacing and shifts kept leaving me thinking I’d missed something, again and again. I wanted to like this more but it’s not for me.
The Dawnhounds is a book that is doing so many different things that any comparison will be a misrepresentation. I think people will mostly point to the way that the technology has been mostly replaced by biology; most obviously, the city is built of fungi, but this isn't a soft solarpunk fantasy; cnidocytes have also been adapted to use as weapons by the police, who as always work to keep the underclass under control.
This world is so radically different that the only clues we are not dealing with a secondary world fantasy are a few words in Maori and some Mandarin dialogue. The history recounted does not resemble the history readers know. Unhappily, some of the repression does.
The protagonist, Yat, is someone who grew up from a disadvantaged kid, to a discriminated against cop with a drug habit and not a lot of introspection. She knows …
The Dawnhounds is a book that is doing so many different things that any comparison will be a misrepresentation. I think people will mostly point to the way that the technology has been mostly replaced by biology; most obviously, the city is built of fungi, but this isn't a soft solarpunk fantasy; cnidocytes have also been adapted to use as weapons by the police, who as always work to keep the underclass under control.
This world is so radically different that the only clues we are not dealing with a secondary world fantasy are a few words in Maori and some Mandarin dialogue. The history recounted does not resemble the history readers know. Unhappily, some of the repression does.
The protagonist, Yat, is someone who grew up from a disadvantaged kid, to a discriminated against cop with a drug habit and not a lot of introspection. She knows she gets the shit jobs because her bisexuality makes her suspect, but not as suspect as someone who eschews men entirely. The police force is corrupt, but life sucks everywhere and for everyone, and she's got to fund her drug habit somehow.
Then she dies and things get weird.
Certain things happen in the course of this story that make it into a different kind of story than the one I have just described, and I am not sure what to do about those things, but I'm glad the story is bigger and weirder than I expected going in.
The story is set in a unique world where magic is slowly replacing engineering. The protagonist Yat goes from being a demoted cop to a reluctant hero for her city.
From the flawlessly breathless pacing to the perfect tone, never mind the amazing world building and sheer, overflowing originality of it all, this is one hell of a debut. It’s as clever as Baru Cormorant, but far less conventional; as anarchically powerful as God’s War, but far more polished; as powerfully queer as Gideon, but far more organic.
Do not let my rating system hold you back: this is one unconditional reading recommendation.
