High Vaultage by Chris and Jen Sugden
(Gollancz, 2024)
Reviewed by Kate Onyett
This may be alt-history Victoriana, but this is not your mother’s steam-punk. Self-described as ‘Tesla-punk’ by the authors, this version of Victorian London is not coal-fired, but thrums with wireless electricity (no, really, Tesla actually did experiment with wi-fi power). London, now called Even Greater London (EGL), covers the entire southern half of Britain, ending somewhere roughly in the midlands with a thick barrier-forest well stocked with wolves to keep the civilised locked in.
Within this rumbling, churning mass is Fleet-Entwhistle Private Investigations. This is run by Archibald Fleet, late of her Majesty’s Metropolitan Police Force (and also late in a mortal sense until an unexpected revival), and Clara Entwistle, Yorkshire emigrant to London and crime reporter. With Fleet’s status as dead (a sad result of his last case) not yet reversed due to a Kafka-esque level of administration, Fleet is off the Force. Thus he and Clara are free to act in cases the police won’t take as the first PIs of EGL.
Their latest case seems straight forward enough: an apparent kidnapping witnessed by one of the ice-larkers who work the edges of the permanently frozen river Thames. But with mysterious and baffling bank vault break-ins under official investigation and an increasingly mysterious and dangerous involvement of the city’s most powerful workforce, this could be the case that ends the nascent PI business.
I am pleased to report, however, that hoary old chestnut of justification for fantastical sci-fi—‘a space where societal/political/philosophical/theological issues of the author’s era can be examined and discussed’—is thankfully not in serious application here.
This is ostensibly a thrilling detective tale and it is, above all, fun, fantastical, adventurous and imaginative. This is story for sake of story and for the love of creation. It’s witty and playful; look at the title for starters, with layers of punning on electricity, high ambition and deep bank storage. One is lifted into a state of pleasurable escapism. It’s rare to find novels that do this without leaving an after-taste of authorial disappointment that you haven’t noticed their clever use of metaphor, or the subtle shading of their description. To say this novel is not subtle is no criticism; it maintains throughout a gleeful, bouncing energy entirely appropriate to its tone.
The real main character is, of course, the city itself, as the third-person narrative voice is obviously the megalopolitan telling you all about itself. Frankly, given the extraordinary conceit the Sugdens came up with, it would be a criminal waste not to explore to the fullest extent!
It dwells thoughtfully on details regarding points of interest and each new landmark (capriciously different from our reality) is given careful and meticulous description. This is even rather more than the human characters are granted, so it makes sense that Fleet is a mysterious reanimate in a brown suit, Keller is sarcasm wearing a moustache and Mrs Pomligan is an eccentric business plan conducted at a screech (to name a few). It also explains why we know more about Clara; the city is actively compiling information about a new addition.
And then there are the Brunelians. Fervent followers of Brunel (elevated to near-godhood in their eyes), they are an army of workers that seethe across, over and under the city, ensuring it is in a constant state of hallucinatory flux as they demolish and redevelop. That this turns out to be their story as well is no surprise; they are the city’s regrowth and renewal made manifest, and its condition and life is bound up in their activity.
For lovers of comedy/urban fantastical/alt-history sci-fi, this is a winner of a read. I cannot praise it highly enough. In a world of clever, intellectually over-baked novels, this is a refreshingly happy experience and the start of something very special.
Review from BSFA Review 24 - Download your copy here.