Victory of Eagles

Following up on her previous Temeraire book, Empire of Ivory, Naomi Novik manages to score yet another hit with the fifth in the series, Victory of Eagles (Del Rey, 2008; editor: Betsy Mitchell).  I'm actually getting a little nervous every time I read a new Temeraire book.  Novik has managed to keep the series up amazingly well so far, and I'm going to be crushingly disappointed if she ever lets it slide.  The title of the book and the blurbage give away the premise of this one: Napoleon invades England!  Meanwhile, Laurence is imprisoned for treason and separated from Temeraire, who is miserably confined to the dragon breeding grounds in Wales.  But invasions have a way of upending things...

I'll avoid spoiling the details of the invasion plot; suffice it to say Napoleon finds out exactly how much fun an occupation can be when you have a really motivated resistance movement, some of whose members have wings and breathe fire or acid.  A sideways critique of the situation in Iraq?

On matters more personal, Laurence struggles with the growing divide between what is right and what his honor requires.  The conflict is more than internal; this is a society where honor has real significance and the cold ostracism inflicted on him by former friends  and his military superiors is barely balanced by the more practical attitudes of the dragons and some of their captains.  His treason may be temporarily overlooked in the immediate crisis of the invasion, but there is no easy forgiveness or reinstatement to be had.  Laurence's relentless depression and feeling that he has nothing left to lose are clear in his miserable willingness to fight outside the accepted rules of war in resisting the invasion.

The desire of Temeraire and the other dragons for equality and freedom is gradually coming in conflict with England's need to use them in war, and Laurence is torn between true sympathy for and agreement with the dragons' demands and the uncomfortable reality that presenting them when England is this desperate borders on blackmail.  (I can't help comparing this with the situation of women fighting for equal rights who were told to be good movement soldiers and their turn would come later.  How long can people be told to keep waiting for a better time?)  The parallel with slavery is explicit: how fair is it to ask a group to give up its rights in service of what the masters claim is a higher cause, especially when the enemy offers those rights?   Our sympathies are with Laurence and England, but Napoleon is in effect the Lincoln figure offering to free the slaves.  England does not come off very well compared to the French, though desperation slowly forces compromises and accommodations to be made and men to learn to work alongside dragons in new ways.

There is the requisite cast of amusing and distinctive dragon personalities; on the breeding grounds in particular we meet several who are considered undesirable for various reasons.  Temeraire himself is both clever and obtuse in particularly dragon-like ways.  His projection of his own desire for treasure onto sadly scruffy-looking Laurence and his inability to understand why anyone might object to what seems to him perfectly reasonable and logical are reminders that no matter his intelligence, he has a distinctly draconic perspective on the world.  It's pleasing to see the somewhat oblivious Temeraire finally figuring out what Laurence's loyalty has cost him.  Fire-breathing, nearly-uncontrollable Iskierka remains funny, but it's becoming clear how dangerous her carelessness and unruliness are to her friends.

I continue to delight in the on- and offstage presence of historical figures.  Arthur Wellesley, the blunt and sarcastic future Duke of Wellington, plays a major role in fighting the invasion.  George III makes a brief appearance, and his sons (including the future Prince Regent) are mentioned in passing.  Nelson and Lady Hamilton likewise play a part behind the scenes.

There are two major battles along with countless smaller skirmishes and a brief secret mission for Laurence alone.  The tactical arms race between Napoleon's dragons (advised by the brilliant albino Celestial Lien) and the uneasy combination of the British Aerial Corps with Temeraire's misfits and unruly ferals keeps the battles from feeling repetitive five books on.

I'm having a hard time coming up with any complaints about this book other than nitpicks.  In the "matters to no one but Susan" category, here's the dance criticism: waltzing in England in c1807?  I don't think she specifies the year at this point in the series, so I'm extrapolating from earlier books, but that's six to eight years too early by my and other dance historians' estimation.  But given that it was certainly in fashion earlier on the European Continent, the presence of the French at the party in question, and the fact that (d'oh!) the progress of the war has gone seriously alternate-history at this point, I think having the waltz arrive early with the French is not unreasonable.  I also thought Riley was dropped (back) into the story from the previous book with insufficient explanation for new readers.

Copyediting, fix-it-for-the-paperback note: p. 156, Wellesley is referred to as Wellington.  Oops!

I heartily recommend the entire series, and suggest taking them in order rather than starting with this one.  It's hard for me to judge, but I think Novik nonetheless does a good job at providing background without annoying infodumps, so this book would probably also work for people who haven't read the previous four.  But why deny yourself the pleasure?

Disclaimer: Naomi invited me and some of my dance crew to perform at the book party for Victory of Eagles and gave me a free copy of the book with a wonderful personalization.  I'm relieved to be able to say nice things about it after that (anyone who thinks that was a sufficient bribe to gush in public if I hadn't actually loved the book doesn't know me very well!)  You can see me in drag in the Del Rey newsletter report and peeping from the back row on Irene Gallo's blog or watch us dance on Naomi's video on YouTube  There's also a great writeup of the event with pictures at FantasyBookSpot.com and a nice mention at Mediabistro.com's Galleycat blog.  The dance is part of the Royal Scotch Quadrilles; the music is a custom recording by Spare Parts, available here.

Comments

[Serge]

Waltzing in 1807?

Well, it is an alternate reality so it is possible that the waltz would have been invented earlier. On the other hand, my wife tells me(*) that the existence of those huge flying creatures doesn't seem to have changed their History drastically - at least not up to their 'Present' obviously since the Little Corporal has actually set foot in Great Britain.

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(*) I'll probably be able to read the series when the last book has come out, which will be nice if I find myself loving it.

[Susan de Guardiola]

The waltz was certainly invented before 1807. I can document it back into the late 1700s in France and it originated in [what is now] Germany/Austria; the exact date is lost in time. The question is when it began to be danced in England. 1807 is too early in our history, but Novik has an easy out because I'm pretty sure the French were waltzing by then and they're attending the party where the waltzing occurs in VoE. Very reasonable alternate history which does not require the waltz to have been invented early.

My guess about the date of the invasion (1807) appears to have been spot on, judging by the newspaper headlines here. I was too busy being nervous about dancing to actually have noticed these at the party itself!

[Neil Willcox]

November 1807 makes sense as the Battle of Jena-Auerstadt where Napoleon defeated the Prussians was October 14 1806* in our time (near the end of Black Powder War in Temeraire-time), so their adventures in Africa take about a year.

Also, nice pictures.

* I looked this up, but don't have Black Powder War to hand; I'm pretty sure it took place in Autumn in the book, in which case I expect that it was October 14; why change the dates if you don't have to?

[Raven]

I don't normally love books about wars, but I really need something to read. Would you suggest I pick these up? And what's the name of the first in the series?

[Serge]

The first is known as Her Majesty's Dragon in the USA, but its original British title is Téméraire. My understanding is that the latter would have meant nothing to most Americans. Besides, it's a French word. Eek!

[Serge]

How many more books are there supposed to be in the series? Or is it open-ended?

[Neil Willcox]

Besides, it's a French word. Eek!

It's the habit of not only not renaming ships that have been captured, but then reusing that name leads to there being an Achille on both sides of the battle of Trafalgar.

[Serge]

an Achille on both sides of the battle of Trafalgar

I dare not think what the Regency Era's Blackadder would have made of that.

[Susan de Guardiola]

Raven -
You can read some excerpts on Naomi's webpage to see if they're to your taste. They're not solely war books, though most of them have a battle scene or two.

Serge -
I believe she's contracted through book six. Not sure what happens after that, but I expect if she wants to write more her publisher will be enthusiastic. And there's another eight years of Napoleonic Wars to go, if she chooses...

[Serge]

if she wants to write more her publisher will be enthusiastic

...especially if Peter Jackson does turn the existing books into movies.

[Marilee J. Layman]

I have the first three books, but I have SF books demanding my attention first. I don't know when I'll get to hers.

[Raven]

Thanks! They sound great!

I dare not think what the Regency Era's Blackadder would have made of that.

The idea of Blackadder in a world with dragons is a scary thought...

[Serge]

Raven... Especially with Baldrick around.

Baldrick: I'm glad to say you won't be needing that pill, Mr. B.
Blackadder: Am I jumping the gun, Baldrick, or are the words "I have a cunning plan" marching with ill-deserved confidence in the direction of this conversation?
Baldrick: They certainly are.
Blackadder: Well, forgive me if I don't do a cartwheel of joy; your record in this department is hardly 100%. So what is it?
Baldrick: We do nothing...
Blackadder: Yup, it's another world-beater.
Baldrick: No, wait. We do nothing... until our heads have actually been cut off.
Blackadder: And then we... spring into action?

[Susan de Guardiola]

its original British title is Téméraire. My understanding is that the latter would have meant nothing to most Americans.

You know, I never even thought to look it up. I foolishly assumed it was a proper name and totally missed the obvious cognate relationship with "temerity." I've now remedied this, and think "reckless" is a fine name for a dragon. A picture of the original ship is here.

[Serge]

"reckless" is a fine name for a dragon

There probably is one so named in Téméraire fanfic. I am of course assuming that such fanfic exists, but for once such assumption on my part isn't likely to be farfetched.

[Susan de Guardiola]

Oh, the fanfic exists. Naomi even supports it; she came out of fanfic herself and is very fanfic-positive. Look at her involvement with the Organization for Transformative Works.

My quick-translation of "téméraire" was "reckless"; is that really off or am I missing something subtle in your comment?

[Serge]

she came out of fanfic herself

I thought I had read something to that effect elsewhere when fanfic was discussed a few months ago.

As for translating téméraire as reckless, you were not off the mark at all. On the contrary. Here's what I found on a translation site.

téméraire
adjective
[person, plan] reckless;
[judgment] rash;
courageux mais pas ~ brave but not foolhardy.