Moon
Over Soho is the second in Ben Aaronovitch's Rivers of London
series, which follows Met DC Peter Grant as he investigates the supernatural
underbelly of his native city. This installment opens with Peter looking into a
strange pattern of deaths – jazz artists who keep dropping dead of seemingly
natural causes, and all around the area of Soho. The trail only gets stranger
and more disturbing from there, and Peter discovers that the truth lies in his
own past, and the past of the city.
There's
a lot to love about this book, but its narrator has to be number one. Peter is
a wonderfully engaging lead, both an impulsive young maverick and a somewhat
aged cynic. His sardonic view of the world and the force he works for brings a
lot of levity to the story. His conversational tone gives him a chance to go
off on tangents, but Aaronovitch never lets this slow the story down. Instead,
it makes the reader more intimate with Peter as he shares his thoughts with
them, as if talking to them in the pub.
Peter's
somewhat flippant tone also provides a curious lense through which we see his
personal life. The story opens with him going to see a friend and colleague,
Lesley May, who was badly scarred due to events in the last book, to the point
that she doesn't show her face and communicates with a keyboard. It's a pretty
grim start to the book, but Peter never lets this get him down. Indeed, this
could be seen as one of Peter's flaws; he hints several times that he's afraid
of what he'll see when Lesley shows him her face. Being a young man, Peter's
not one to go on and on about his feelings, but Aaronovitch gives us just
enough of a glimpse to show Peter's vulnerability without wallowing in
melodrama.
He
uses a similar approach when writing about Peter's homelife. The reader gets an
indication that Peter had a less than happy childhood, with a short-tempered
mother and an aloof father who spent most of his time working on his music.
Aaronovitch never spells this out for us, but there does seem to be some vague
rift between Peter and his parents, which could explain why Peter has such an
independent spirit.
For
instance, jazz is a huge part of the story, and Peter knows so much about it
because of how much his dad listened to it and played it, yet Peter admits that
he doesn't even like jazz that much. He says this to the reader, but not his
father, as if he doesn't confide in him that much. Peter may not be the type to
wear his heart on his sleeve, but I get the feeling like Aaronovitch is
dropping hints for a character arc that will explore this in greater detail.
Other
characters are treated similarly, particularly DCI Thomas Nightingale, Peter's
mentor in magic, and superior officer in the supernatural branch of the Met
known as “The Folly”. We get a few hints about Nightingale's past, like his
boarding school days with other wizards, and his time during the Second World
War. I liked the contrast between the cool, composed figure that Peter knows
and the more powerful younger soldier who blew up a Tiger Tank.
For
all this, we get the sense of tragic quality to Nightingale's character. For
instance, he and Peter visit his old school at one point, where Peter finds an
enormous memorial his mentor carved by hand to commemorate the wizards who fell
in the War. There's also the fact that, despite his powers and intelligence,
Nightingale spends most of his time shut up at home with only his silent maid,
Molly, for company. As he says at one point, “while I lived here with Molly,
the world continued on without me” (P. 218)
The
theme of life wrecked by the cataclysm of the War is returned to throughout the
story. The wizarding community was rapidly depleted, leaving the survivors cut
off and unaware of each other's existence. This allows a sinister black
magician to go on operating for years without Nightingale being aware of it.
This is an interesting contrast to other fantasy series like Harry Potter,
where the magical communities, though in hiding, are extensive and
interconnected. Here, they're cut off and scattered, reflecting the devastating
effect the War had on people across the world. The London Blitz also becomes a
major plot point, and is used to show how disaster can transform people into
monsters, sometimes in unexpected ways.
If
the wizarding community is fractured, the city of London is buzzing with life,
and Aaronovitch never misses a chance to show off the depth of his knowledge of
the place. Peter wryly observes the architecture and people of the city, and
sometimes diverts into little anecdotes about its history. These parts of the
book will obviously appeal more to people who know London well. I sometimes
found it a bit hard to relate to, especially when it came to placenames and
geography, but I appreciated the personal touch all the same. Aaronovitch once
said he'd only be seperated from London when it was prized from his cold, dead
fingers, and that devotion is as much a cornerstone of this book as its
characters.
His
characterisation of the Met is also interesting; while many urban fantasy books
have the hero try to keep their supernatural dealings a secret, Peter works for
an institution that knows all about his line of work. In a diplomatic “See no
evil, hear no evil” arrangement, the powers-that-be tolerate the Folly's
presence so long as it doesn't impinge on other areas of the Met or reveal
itself to the public. However, it also means the Folly receives no funding so
as to avoid a paper trail, meaning Peter and Nightingale are brought in to
investigate the unusual cases while receiving little credit for it in return. It
plays in well with the cynical tone of the books and also gives Peter another
shaky relationship with authority.
In a
similar vein is the testy relationship between the gods of the River Thames,
with Peter stuck in the middle. The gods don't get as much focus as they did in
the last book, but it's clear that this is an arrangement that could get Peter
in serious trouble further down the line. The sinister and manipulative Lady
Tyburn makes a few appearances, casting a shadow over proceedings and setting the
stage for further clashes with the Folly.
Another
character of interest is Simone Fitzwilliam, former lover of Peter's first
victim. She's introduced as a typical dettached ice maiden, and her effect on
Peter has the sort of effect you'd expect from their first meeting. While I
found parts of this subplot a bit predictable (Spoiler: They end up fucking),
there were other parts that I didn't see coming. Not only was I glad of that, I
felt the way this plot progressed tied very well into some of the book's other
themes, while also making Peter a more vulnerable and relatable protagonist as
a result. It also sets up another arc, with another enigmatic villain.
While
the tone of the book is often slow in keeping with the arduousness of a police investigation,
the action is also well-handled when it occurs. Whether its to do with
commandeering an ambulance or chasing a suspect, Aaronovitch does a good job of
balancing tension with dry wit. There are also a few inclusions of gore which
take the book down a much darker and more disturbing path.
In
conclusion, I'd say Moon Over Soho leans heavier on the criminal side
than the fantastical. Overall, it feels more like a gritty modern thriller with
the supernatural sometimes dropping in, rather than an equal blending of the
two genres. That's not to say that fans of the latter genre should be put off –
even if crime isn't your usual cup of tea, I'd say this book is still fun and
funny enough to win many people over.
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