UPDATED REVIEW (from 2024):
Haha, so funny that I originally read this series in December of 2016, and here I am, back for the light fluffy meringue escapism of it all in December 2024. Yes, very funny. What a coincidence. I might actually cry.
BUT. I stand by everything I said in the original review, especially the utterly horrifying scene where Rue is mistaken for Lakshmi, and also the Quesnel/Rue romance, which I could live without. This time, though, I noticed something else. Because I have read basically the entire main line of this series right through with only a tiny break, I realized that the Custard Protocol one is just -- less fun. And that's partly because of the flaws I mentioned earlier, but also because of the generational nature of it.
In Parasol Protectorate, Carriger took people of the upper class and gave them real problems. And then, as you do, she solved them. And she elevated them to extremely high societal and political positions, again as you do if you're giving your characters a classic historical romance happy ending. And then she gave them daughters to carry on the series.
The problem is that functionally, these daughters are starting off more or less where their parents ended up: with an absolute metric ton of everything good in life. Rue is the most special! (Literally. There's only rumors of another of her kind.) She is the most rich! She has so many friends and family members! She has the best things! She has the highest status! As a result, none of her problems feel like real problems, and she's, uh. Kind of annoying. Like, Alexia had to actually be good at things in order to succeed. So did Sophronia. Rue's not good at much, honestly, but she gets her way anyway, because she comes equipped with all the wealth and privilege and connections and power in the world.
Basically, while reading this book, I realized that if Miles Vorkosigan had been a) not disabled b) actually unusually and extremely abled and c) not very bright, he'd be Rue. They have the same MO: show up underprepared, bullshit their way through on courage and confidence alone, and then try to think their way out of the problems they've created. The difference is that Miles can actually sometimes do that. (And the other, equally important difference is that Miles has problems he absolutely did not create and cannot really solve. Rue has none of those.)
Also, Carriger took a trope I love (two people agree to a friends with benefits thing but WHOOPS they have feelings and WHOOPS it causes problems) and did it just off-center enough that it doesn't work for me. And, yes, I realize this is an me problem, unlike the rest of the flaws in this book, but, well. This is my review.
All in all: not enjoying this nearly as much as the rest of the books I've read by her. Took a break in the middle of this novel to read multiple RPF fics about members of blink-182 instead. Two star rating stands.
ORIGINAL REVIEW (from 2016):
For me, Gail Carriger books are like meringues: extremely light, frothy, and sweet, and if I eat more than one or two, I feel ill. In other words: total fluff, don't think about it too hard, where "too hard" is "at all." But, hey, at this point, after this year, I am ready for fluff. I want fluff. Not thinking is exactly what I want to do.
And while this is a very Carriger book, it didn't quite deliver on its meringue promise, mostly because of a couple of minuses her other ones haven't had for me. First, her approach to the romance is a bit, uh, off for me -- like, any time the author sets up a competent woman and then makes the mark of her True Love being that she's incompetent and helpless around him, I'm apt to narrow my eyes and hope against hope that the love interest will be anyone else.
But the second flaw is the bigger one for me. Basically, this is an imperialist romp. Rue goes to India and there is much marveling at the natives! And imitation of native gods! And oh look, the white girl has come to save you! It's just...really painful, and it makes the too-much-meringue nausea kick in way earlier.
Basically the only reason I finished this one is the background queer pairing, which I kept hoping hoping hoping would see some sort of resolution of basically any kind. And that's the reason I read the second one, too. So far, no luck; the het romance remains on the page, and the queer romance remains on the back burner on low. I'd probably read a third book in the series today, if it were out, just to see if AT LAST the queer couple might at least kiss, but it's not out. And that's the other thing about these book-meringues: they're totally forgettable. By the time the next one arrives, I'm not sure I'll remember who any of these people are.