A book I started and finished last week, but didn’t have time right then to put down my thoughts, is Scarlet, by Genevieve Cogman. This is a fantasy reimagining of one of the Scarlet Pimpernel novels. The fantasy element is that vampires openly exist among the aristocracy of England and France. The English vampires seem fairly benign: they feed on blood, but don’t kill, instead drinking small amounts of blood provided by their human servants who (unknowingly) are under a light compulsion to cooperate.
The French vampires, on the other hand, are everything one has ever read about the arrogance and the abusiveness of the worst kind of French aristocrats, in a novels by writers like Orczy and Sabatini—only more so. The few that are encountered during this story are cruel and vicious and frankly horrifying. The swashbuckling gentleman of The League of the Scarlet Pimpernel do not initially know this. They rescue vampires as well as other aristocrats, and count members of the vampire aristocracy as allies (although they later find out otherwise).
But this is the story of Eleanor Dalton, servant to an English vampire countess, Eleanor whose chance resemblance to a certain important someone startles the visiting Sir Percy Blakeney (as those who have read the original books will know, he’s the Pimpernel) and inspires him to devise a plan to recruit her to the cause and use her as a decoy in order to rescue Marie Antoinette and her children. For much of the story, he keeps Eleanor in the dark about who they are rescuing and exactly what the plan is, because she’s just there for the one mission, and I suppose it wouldn’t do to let her in on too many secrets. But this causes problems when Eleanor is separated from the rest of the party, and forced to make her way to Paris on her own. Also, the scars on her arms from years of bloodletting make her an object of suspicion in Revolutionary France.
It’s not a deep book by any means, but the adventure made for enjoyable light reading. Eleanor starts out as relatively sheltered. As an English servant, she knows little of the world except for what her “betters” tell her, and what her limited experiences have taught her—which does include some knowledge that the upper classes, blinded by their privilege, do not take into account. And she may be largely ignorant but she’s not stupid. In the course of the story, all that she sees and experiences in France at the height of the Terror causes her to stop believing everything she’s been told, to ask her own questions, and to search for answers. She comes up with no simple conclusions, but her view of the world, of politics and justice, and of right and wrong, is considerably more sophisticated and nuanced by the end of the book. Her courage and compassion have also been tested, so that she knows herself better and has grown in confidence and strength.
Scarlet is the first in a series, which is planned to include at least two more books.