Amiee Gibbs

The Carnivale of Curiosities is the third truly exceptional book I've read in the last year and a half built around an alternative Victorian London where the real and magical worlds collide. The other two are Freya Marske's A Marvellous Light and Mat Osman's The Ghost Theatre.

There are far more books that fall within this particular subgenre—lots of alternative Londons, lots of magic/non-magic—but these three stand out above everything else I've read. They're quite different from one show more another, but what they have in common is detailed world-building, characters that are complex and conflicted, and power imbalances echoing those you would find in "ordinary" Victorian London, as well as the world we inhabit today.

The Carnivale of Curiosities offers a very interesting variation on the Faust theme. For what kind of gain will people sell their souls? And in what ways can a dream achieved become a disaster?

The Carnivale is run by magician Aurelius Ashe and mechanical genius Pretorius (just the one name). The Carnivale's "curiosities" are individuals many would label freaks: a dog-faced boy, conjoined twins, a little person, acrobats, and man who can do remarkable things with fire. But for anyone who attends the Carnivale—or reads this book—the curiosities are nothing less than geniuses, each with a singular talent that could have gone unseen or been used in unscrupulous ways. The dog-faced boy is a virtuoso violinist. The twins are gymnasts. The little person is a gifted ballerina. One of the acrobats can truly defy gravity, the other can shapeshift and appear and disappear at will.

The other key location/structure in The Carnival of Curiosities is Decimus House, headed by Odilon Rose since the death of his father. Odilon has a sister. Then, there's Charlotte, originally raised in one of the poorest parts of London, but taken in as a ward by Odilon's father. The Roses are rich. Not just wealthy—rich beyond imagining; rich beyond the royals themselves. Charlotte lives in this home of endless bounty, but is more hostage than family member. Odilon sees her as his property to do with as he will. And Odilon is obsessed with owning things. Odilon is also odious—to an extent that makes that word odious an understatement.

But Odilon's control over Charlotte seems about to end because she's dying of leukemia. And not even a man as wealthy and powerful as Odilon can stop that disease. As a result, Odilon finds himself in the unusual circumstance of having to request the help of others. There's a story about that man who works with fire, Lucien. He reportedly died once, but was brought back to life through Aurelius' magical powers and Pretorius's creation of a mechanical heart.

Odilon is trying to strike a bargain with Aurelius. The Carnivale of Curiosities is the story of the making of that bargain and its results. You can imagine. Or maybe you can't.

It has been a long, long time since I've raced through a book as I did with The Carnivale of Curiosities. Page after page with other tasks completely ignored. Reading late into the night when I had to start and stop over and over again as I realized I'd fallen asleep and what I'd been thinking was the book was a dream that sprung from the book, but had left the book behind.

If you appreciate fantasy—even if you don't (it's not my favorite genre)—The Carnivale of Curiosities is a read so compelling you may find yourself being held hostage by it. In a good way...

I received a free electronic review copy of this title from the publisher via Edelweiss; the opinions are my own. show less

The Carnivale of Curiosities is Amiee Gibbs' debut novel, and I have to say I really liked it. It has a bit of everything I enjoy in a book, including magic, Victorian England, mysterious characters, revenge plots, found family, and mystery. Plus, Ms. Gibbs tells an intriguing story.

The best part of The Carnivale of Curiosities is Aurelius Ashe. He is both a larger-than-life master of ceremonies and an enigma. No one knows much about him, although rumors abound. While he may be the show more flamboyant ringleader for the Carnivale, he takes his self-appointed role as the protector of his curiosities seriously. I have a soft spot for anyone who shelters and cares for the oppressed. Plus, Aurelius has some great one-liners, and his thoughts about people asking for favors still have me contemplating what he said.

Another aspect of The Carnivale of Curiosities I appreciate is how well Ms. Gibbs shows all of London. We don't just see the pretty parts, like in a Bridgerton novel. Ms. Gibbs spends as much time, if not more, bringing the worst parts of London to life. The Carnivale occurs in a disreputable part of the city, and most of the action happens in and around the neighborhood. Not only do we get to see those parts of London most authors keep hidden, but we also get to understand what life is like for the have-nots and the machinations that keep them from improving their lots in life. It is a side of London that Charles Dickens excelled at showcasing. I believe Ms. Gibbs does an equally good job doing so, with less of her story devoted to description.

In truth, I enjoyed all parts of The Carnivale of Curiosities. From uncovering Aurelius' mysterious power to learning more about Lucien's haunted past, the Carnivale holds a lot of secrets. I suspect Ms. Gibbs only scratches the surface with what she unveils for us. Odilon Rose is quite the character, and there is an intriguing struggle with knowing the truth but being unable to do anything with it because of the lack of money and position.

The Carnivale of Curiosities is a clever little story. There are a lot of layers to it, each of which is intriguing in its own right. Together, they form a cohesive novel that is deceivingly complex. The characters are a little one-dimensional, but they serve their purpose well. I would love to see more of them and this weird, dark world Ms. Gibbs created. I can't wait to see what else she has in store for readers in the future! show less

3.5 rounded up. I like this in theory, but it's just a little longer than it needs to be. It's also very dark. There's implied rape and abuse frequently. There are surprising decisions made by some characters, giving them some depth I wasn't expecting.

This was a case of a very fascinating story that, in my opinion, could have done with some editing down. The story shone most in its action, but there were quite long sections of reflection and brooding that dragged the tale down quite a bit. Secondary characters with interesting, well-described backstories wound up being inconsequential to the main plot, except as sounding boards for the main characters to demonstrate and develop themselves; either giving them larger roles to play in the show more plot or whittling down the parts of the book devoted to them would have made for a more concise and more enthralling book overall.

I would have liked to see more of Ashe's backstory, his actual being. We got most of it through dialogue, but I would have loved to see at least one scene other than the prologue (in which we were still ignorant of what to look for) showing the fullness of his power and the source from which he draws it. He was one of the best parts of the book, and I wanted more of him. The "romance" between Lucien and Charlotte was a bit oversold in the blurb, but I didn't mind it not being a huge factor. What I would have really liked would have been to see Odilon, Charlotte's abuser and evil person all-around, get to feel some true terror and suffer a little more of what he deserved. Okay, so his soul's apparently in hell, but I wanted the moment where he actually realized he was going to be heading there shortly.

Truthfully, it is that I enjoyed the plot-advancing scenes and ideas so much that is letting me quickly forget that they were so often bogged down by descriptions and tangents. That's a testament to how powerful the book could have been, I think. show less