Taryn Cornick has never been the same since her sister was murdered. In the interests of self-preservation, she’s purposefully quarantined most of her memories of her childhood, including those of her beloved grandfather’s library at Princes Gate. Unfortunately, she could do with remembering some of it rather quickly. Something is pursuing her in search of something from that library; something that’s already survived several library fires; a box that doesn’t burn. Drawn into this long with her are DI Jacob Berger, who’s investigating a cold case he’s sure Taryn’s involved in, and a mercurial young man known as Shift, who is definitely more than he appears to be and may not even be of this world. Their journey will take them across continents and into other worlds, in search of a box whose contents could shape their fate.
In her native New Zealand, Elizabeth Knox is an award-winning author, an ONZM (New Zealand Order of Merit) and an Arts Foundation of New Zealand Laureate, but The Absolute Book is her first book to be published outside New Zealand and hopefully it won’t be the last.
The Absolute Book is a love letter to many different things: mythology, stories, libraries, and books, especially those with scholarly heroes in search of some forbidden knowledge or object but where the journey turns out to be more important than the thing being searched for. Knox calls these sorts of books “arcane thrillers”, and though The Absolute Book does have a little of the arcane thriller about it—though, in this case, the object sought is as important as the journey—it is, at its heart, a literary portal fantasy.
In her review for the guardian, Nina Allan notes that “Fantastic literature is often decried for being escapist”. Other than escapism fulfilling a major psychological need, I’d also argue that as fantasy is the oldest form of storytelling, evolving as it did from the ancient oral tradition, even the most ‘escapist’ branches of the fantasy tree—‘sword and sorcery’ for example, which is still going strong today—has things that can be applied universally. Even so, the fantasy of The Absolute Book is darker and more ambiguous, rooted in both the mythological and the present, in the vein of writers such as Alan Gardner and Susan Cooper. Aesthetic comparisons to His Dark Materials and Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell are also warranted, sharing similar narrative scope.
Mythological allusions range from Arthurian, Norse (two famous ravens make frequent appearances), and biblical, plus it’s also chock full of literature references period, from The Da Vinci Code to the Moomins. There’s enough internal consistency in each of her created worlds to make world-building fans salivate (in fact, the sidhe—which is both the name of the world and its inhabitants and clearly meant to be analogous of the fae and fairyland—are literally referred to as ‘world builders’, a term that takes on a deeper significance later on), serviced by prose that is lush and dense without being purple.
With its mentions of drones, server farms and iPhones, the ‘real world’ portrayed is that of our world right now, but the plot mirrors the concerns of one in the other. Firstly, the socio-political: mentions are made (unobtrusively) of things like the EU referendum and the strange political climate in general; the current inhabitants of Sidhe are descendants of exiles from another world and took the territory from those already occupying it, and the current political situation is the fallout from another conflict. Secondly, the ecological: the challenges facing our environment are alluded to, and in Sidhe we see potential solutions to those challenges, as well as another source of tension—the current inhabitants of Sidhe actually terraformed the land they took, making uninhabitable for its previous occupants while making it habitable for them.
This culminates in an epilogue that, whilst not preachy, some may find a little on the nose. Industrial and technological progress is sometimes portrayed as itself being inherently bad, rather than tools that can be used badly. But like the best literature, The Absolute Book doesn’t present itself as a primer with all the answers but instead makes you think about those potential answers yourself.
Whilst it may be a little slow to start, The Absolute Book soon sinks its hooks into you, examining the limits and dangers of enchantment while at the same time weaving its own spell over you.
The Absolute Book is available from Amazon, Book Depository, and other good book retailers, like your local bookstore.
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Synopsis | Goodreads
Taryn Cornick believes that the past–her sister’s violent death, and her own ill-conceived revenge–is behind her, and she can get on with her life. She has written a successful book about the things that threaten libraries: insects, damp, light, fire, carelessness and uncaring . . . but not all of the attention it brings her is good.
A policeman, Jacob Berger, questions her about a cold case. Then there are questions about a fire in the library at her grandparents’ house and an ancient scroll box known as the Firestarter, as well as threatening phone calls and a mysterious illness. Finally a shadowy young man named Shift appears, forcing Taryn and Jacob toward a reckoning felt in more than one world.
The Absolute Book is epic, action-packed fantasy in which hidden treasures are recovered, wicked things resurface, birds can talk, and dead sisters are a living force. It is a book of journeys and returns, from contemporary England to Auckland, New Zealand; from a magical fairyland to Purgatory. Above all, it is a declaration of love for stories and the ways in which they shape our worlds and create gods out of morals.
