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Rupetta
Rupetta is a sewn hardback of 352 pages, printed lithographically, with silk ribbon marker, head and tailbands, and d/w.
Four hundred years ago, in a small town in rural France, a young woman creates the future in the shape of Rupetta. Part mechanical, part human, Rupetta’s consciousness is tied to the women who wind her. In the years that follow she is bought and sold, borrowed, forgotten and revered. By the twentieth century, the Rupettan four-fold law rules everyone’s lives, but Rupetta—the immortal being on whose existence and history those laws are based—is the keeper of a secret that will tear apart the world her followers have built in her name.
This stunning new novel by award-winning Australian writer Nike Sulway invokes the great tradition of European fantasy/horror fiction and moves it forward in a superbly imaginative, highly original fashion.
Nike Sulway is an Australian author who lives and works in Brisbane. In 2000, Nike won the Queensland Premier’s Literary Award for Best Emerging Queensland Author for her novel, The Bone Flute, which was released by UQP in 2001 and subsequently shortlisted in the Commonwealth Writers Awards. Her children’s book, What the Sky Knows, was published in May 2005 and shortlisted for the 2006 Children’s Book Council of Australia Awards. Her adult novel, The True Green of Hope was released in August 2005.
Four hundred years ago, in a small town in rural France, a young woman creates the future in the shape of Rupetta. Part mechanical, part human, Rupetta’s consciousness is tied to the women who wind her. In the years that follow she is bought and sold, borrowed, forgotten and revered. By the twentieth century, the Rupettan four-fold law rules everyone’s lives, but Rupetta—the immortal being on whose existence and history those laws are based—is the keeper of a secret that will tear apart the world her followers have built in her name.
This stunning new novel by award-winning Australian writer Nike Sulway invokes the great tradition of European fantasy/horror fiction and moves it forward in a superbly imaginative, highly original fashion.
Nike Sulway is an Australian author who lives and works in Brisbane. In 2000, Nike won the Queensland Premier’s Literary Award for Best Emerging Queensland Author for her novel, The Bone Flute, which was released by UQP in 2001 and subsequently shortlisted in the Commonwealth Writers Awards. Her children’s book, What the Sky Knows, was published in May 2005 and shortlisted for the 2006 Children’s Book Council of Australia Awards. Her adult novel, The True Green of Hope was released in August 2005.
331 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2013
18 people are currently reading
1073 people want to read
About the author
Nike Sulway
13 books79 followersHi! I am an Australian writer who enjoys reading as much as (perhaps even more than) writing.
In 2000, I won the Queensland Premier's Literary Award for Best Emerging Queensland Author for my novel The Bone Flute (under the author name N A Bourke) which was released by UQP in 2001 and subsequently shortlisted in the Commonwealth Writers Awards. My children’s picture book, What the Sky Knows (Illustrated by Stella Danalis), followed in May 2005 and was shortlisted for two separate categories in the 2006 Children’s Book Council of Australia Awards. A third novel, The True Green of Hope was released in August 2005. My most recently published adult novel is Dying in the First Person, released in May, 2016, through Transit Lounge, and my most recent children's book is Winter's Tale, illustrated by Shauna O'Meara and published by Titania in 2019.
Rupetta published by Tartarus Press in 2013, won the James Tiptree, Jr Award for a work that explores and expands our understanding of gender.
I have a PhD in creative writing from Griffith University, and have taught creative writing in the university sector for more than ten years, with regular dips into other forms of work and life (cooking, mostly).
In 2000, I won the Queensland Premier's Literary Award for Best Emerging Queensland Author for my novel The Bone Flute (under the author name N A Bourke) which was released by UQP in 2001 and subsequently shortlisted in the Commonwealth Writers Awards. My children’s picture book, What the Sky Knows (Illustrated by Stella Danalis), followed in May 2005 and was shortlisted for two separate categories in the 2006 Children’s Book Council of Australia Awards. A third novel, The True Green of Hope was released in August 2005. My most recently published adult novel is Dying in the First Person, released in May, 2016, through Transit Lounge, and my most recent children's book is Winter's Tale, illustrated by Shauna O'Meara and published by Titania in 2019.
Rupetta published by Tartarus Press in 2013, won the James Tiptree, Jr Award for a work that explores and expands our understanding of gender.
I have a PhD in creative writing from Griffith University, and have taught creative writing in the university sector for more than ten years, with regular dips into other forms of work and life (cooking, mostly).
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 48 reviews
May 17, 2013
What a strange, lovely book. Rupetta follows an object — a thinking, feeling mechanical human — through time and meditates upon the stories we tell and the stories we don't: her stories, histories. This story begins in seventeenth-century France, travelling to hauntingly familiar places and emerging in a time not quite our own. It describes the genesis of a religion and the lies that lure followers. "We planted a seedling and buried a poem at its roots."
Rupetta recounts her own narrative in alternating chapters, and these are love stories: her existence is tied up in the lives of the Wynders who wind her like a chronometer, who unlock the chamber that cradles her heart and reach inside. The first of these is Eloise, her creator, who
Eloise's daughter comes next. Then there's vengeful, ambitious Montane, central to the development of the Rupettan Fourfold Law and the rise of the Obanites who would triumph over death, nature, the organic world by replacing their fallible fleshy hearts with machines; Vivica, who's born loving the forest and foxes and hating things that die; Judit, who nearly does before her time. All of these women are described with compassion and the dispassionate honesty of age, or agelessness, year upon decade upon century of insight. The relationship between Rupetta and her Wynders is unimaginably, impossibly close.
The other chapters introduce us to Henriette, who dreams — against her father's wishes — of following in the footsteps of her late mother, a capital-H Historian, and when her own wishes begin to come true she is forced to reassess, surprised by her reactions. Like so many of us, she's not entirely sure what she wants, only that she wants. Once enrolled and embroiled in historical research among the Obanites, she meets Miri.
As this passage suggests, their complex relationship is the source of some of Sulway's most beautiful turns of phrase. Here's love: I wanted to eat her. Wanted to shell her like a pea. Find her fresh green centre. My whole body was turned inside out. I was a spilled sack of stars. I had no right to be so happy. And this is love, too, when it has suffered without dying and grown both stronger and more fragile:
(I want to share so many quotes. You will never know how much restraint and care went into selecting the few I've shared.)
Henri's voice — her humanity — won me over within paragraphs. There's an exquisite universality to her perspective, as when she is forced to confront the prospect of losing her father as his health fails and the threads of memory begin to unravel.
But what really caught me off-guard about Rupetta was how effortlessly Sulway has captured the experience of researching the past: the excitement of touching lives long since ended; the way such work colors everything else we see and feel and sense; the anxious hope that years of study will result in a genuine contribution to knowledge; the mixture of fear and (ideally) admiration that touches every interaction with a supervisor; the changeable nature of what passes for historical narrative as the people shaping it shift; and that little pit of awe and sorrow when we realize that even the best stories will never bridge that uncrossable chasm between past and present. They will always remain stories.
And they will always have an audience... won't they?
Rupetta lives in that gap between truth and tale, and Rupetta is richer for having her at its heart. This book is not without flaws, but I think the little flecks of brightness that illuminate so many pages and passages transform even the clumsy scenes into a forest full of fairy lights: magic in the form of a mechanical bird and a lost child with green eyes that have seen more than you can imagine. I dare you not to fall in love.
...which is all to say: Highly recommended. This work of speculative fiction is well-written and -paced, with strong female characters of both the organic and mechanical varieties. Four and a half stars because the ending didn't quite live up to the promise of what came before. Hat tip to Weird Fiction Review for the heads-up.
Rupetta recounts her own narrative in alternating chapters, and these are love stories: her existence is tied up in the lives of the Wynders who wind her like a chronometer, who unlock the chamber that cradles her heart and reach inside. The first of these is Eloise, her creator, who
once attempted a catalogue of my interior. It grew and grew as she pursued it, spilling out over her desk. Here, she would say, is the avenue of your contentment. Here the rue de pommes. Here is the flood, the drift, the dream. Here, she would say, beneath the heart, here are the ruins of the city you once were, and of another you may some day become. Here are the arrowheads of a battle, the bones of dead birds. A ruined chapel, an empty clock.
Eloise's daughter comes next. Then there's vengeful, ambitious Montane, central to the development of the Rupettan Fourfold Law and the rise of the Obanites who would triumph over death, nature, the organic world by replacing their fallible fleshy hearts with machines; Vivica, who's born loving the forest and foxes and hating things that die; Judit, who nearly does before her time. All of these women are described with compassion and the dispassionate honesty of age, or agelessness, year upon decade upon century of insight. The relationship between Rupetta and her Wynders is unimaginably, impossibly close.
The other chapters introduce us to Henriette, who dreams — against her father's wishes — of following in the footsteps of her late mother, a capital-H Historian, and when her own wishes begin to come true she is forced to reassess, surprised by her reactions. Like so many of us, she's not entirely sure what she wants, only that she wants. Once enrolled and embroiled in historical research among the Obanites, she meets Miri.
Miri was everything I had been taught to despise: a woman whose passions rose and sank with the weather, whose life was dictated by blind chance, who relished sunlight and rain on her skin. Who ate pears with her eyes closed, and rolled the textured flesh on her tongue before she swallowed. Who read without reason or order or ambition, without cross-referencing or fear. Who believed in the efficacy of luck. Who was happy to be tossed across and through life as a loosened feather is thrown through the air by the wind.
As this passage suggests, their complex relationship is the source of some of Sulway's most beautiful turns of phrase. Here's love: I wanted to eat her. Wanted to shell her like a pea. Find her fresh green centre. My whole body was turned inside out. I was a spilled sack of stars. I had no right to be so happy. And this is love, too, when it has suffered without dying and grown both stronger and more fragile:
The light undid me: it opened the world too wide. Shone too sharp a light into our lives. My bones were too heavy. My knees too sharp. I could only concentrate on small things: on Miri's hand curved around her cup. This much, and no more, I could understand. This much I could love without a sharp stab of pain and anger. Tomorrow, I would love Miri's wrist again — the memory of it — the next day her arm. And so on and on, until Miri's whole body unspooled into my heart. A memory. A ghost.
(I want to share so many quotes. You will never know how much restraint and care went into selecting the few I've shared.)
Henri's voice — her humanity — won me over within paragraphs. There's an exquisite universality to her perspective, as when she is forced to confront the prospect of losing her father as his health fails and the threads of memory begin to unravel.
All my childhood was gone with him into that strange and secret place where he now dwelled. My father, who had been my only true parent, the only one who had known me. I had been forgotten so completely, so suddenly, I felt loose-boned.
[...]
He was travelling down into his paper grave with it held to his chest, a moon-pale globe of secrets I would never know, lighting his way into death.
But what really caught me off-guard about Rupetta was how effortlessly Sulway has captured the experience of researching the past: the excitement of touching lives long since ended; the way such work colors everything else we see and feel and sense; the anxious hope that years of study will result in a genuine contribution to knowledge; the mixture of fear and (ideally) admiration that touches every interaction with a supervisor; the changeable nature of what passes for historical narrative as the people shaping it shift; and that little pit of awe and sorrow when we realize that even the best stories will never bridge that uncrossable chasm between past and present. They will always remain stories.
History was an artform — the delicate, dangerous art of creating the past.
And they will always have an audience... won't they?
Rupetta lives in that gap between truth and tale, and Rupetta is richer for having her at its heart. This book is not without flaws, but I think the little flecks of brightness that illuminate so many pages and passages transform even the clumsy scenes into a forest full of fairy lights: magic in the form of a mechanical bird and a lost child with green eyes that have seen more than you can imagine. I dare you not to fall in love.
...which is all to say: Highly recommended. This work of speculative fiction is well-written and -paced, with strong female characters of both the organic and mechanical varieties. Four and a half stars because the ending didn't quite live up to the promise of what came before. Hat tip to Weird Fiction Review for the heads-up.
November 25, 2014
I have such a bundle of feelings about this book. As others have said, some of the writing is liquidly delicious; descriptions of feelings and thoughts, in particular, are like pieces of glass tumbled by the ocean, precious and beautiful to touch. The idea is ambitious and grand, and the world Sulway creates is brilliantly imagined and purely itself. The chapter on the City of Bridges was my clear favourite, and was almost a story in itself: a sharply realised, lyrical place with details that were charming and breathtaking and thoroughly new.
There are a lot of ideas and a lot of people in this book: perhaps too many. One option, of course, would be to have fewer, but honestly I’d rather the book was longer, a real epic that gave me time to spend with each of the Wynders, to really understand Rupetta and the Oikos and the Salt Lane Witches and the Penitents and Henri’s lecturer. For many of them I felt we moved on before I was ready, and that my understanding of the story and the world it was in was lessened by the briefness of our interactions. I also felt there were a few disturbing inconsistencies or gaps in the book, but – as always – I wonder if it’s because I stopped concentrating at a vital point. I read this on Kindle, and I loathe flipping back pages in Kindle to check up on details: I’d love to get this when it comes out in paperback and give it a more thorough read.
Really, there’s no reason not to read this. You won’t regret it.
There are a lot of ideas and a lot of people in this book: perhaps too many. One option, of course, would be to have fewer, but honestly I’d rather the book was longer, a real epic that gave me time to spend with each of the Wynders, to really understand Rupetta and the Oikos and the Salt Lane Witches and the Penitents and Henri’s lecturer. For many of them I felt we moved on before I was ready, and that my understanding of the story and the world it was in was lessened by the briefness of our interactions. I also felt there were a few disturbing inconsistencies or gaps in the book, but – as always – I wonder if it’s because I stopped concentrating at a vital point. I read this on Kindle, and I loathe flipping back pages in Kindle to check up on details: I’d love to get this when it comes out in paperback and give it a more thorough read.
Really, there’s no reason not to read this. You won’t regret it.
February 18, 2014
A 17th century cyborg Tale .
Four hundred years ago, in a small town in rural France, a young woman creates the future in the shape of Rupetta. Part mechanical, part human, Rupetta’s consciousness is tied to the women who wind her. In the years that follow she is bought and sold, borrowed, forgotten and revered.
By the twentieth century, the Rupettan four-fold law rules everyone’s lives, but Rupetta—the immortal being on whose existence and history those laws are based—is the keeper of a secret that will tear apart the world her followers have built in her name.
Four hundred years ago, in a small town in rural France, a young woman creates the future in the shape of Rupetta. Part mechanical, part human, Rupetta’s consciousness is tied to the women who wind her. In the years that follow she is bought and sold, borrowed, forgotten and revered.
By the twentieth century, the Rupettan four-fold law rules everyone’s lives, but Rupetta—the immortal being on whose existence and history those laws are based—is the keeper of a secret that will tear apart the world her followers have built in her name.
May 26, 2014
Rupetta won the 2013 Tiptree award and was nominated for an Aurealis in the science fiction category. You only need to read the first few pages of the book to understand why it gained critical attention. Beginning with the Foreword, Rupetta – who shares the book’s narrative with the historian Henri – tells us that:
"I have known loss for centuries. I have borne the deaths of each of my companions, both dear and tolerated. I have lost families, loves, houses, villages. Whole cities, whole nations, have grown and decayed while I persisted. I have seen rivers change their course, mountains beaten down into hills, oceans swell and subside, seeds grow into great trees only to fall and die and rot. And yet this loss – the loss of one child – this loss I cannot bear.
If I were human I would weep."
It’s epic and it’s personal and it sets the scene of what’s to come – both in terms of the story and the quality of the writing. Echoing the intricate cogs and wheels that make up Rupetta’s heart, there’s something both beautiful and meticulous about the prose. As if each word has been carefully checked and polished to ensure it fits with the word that comes before it and the one that comes after.
But while it’s a delight to read, I never truly engaged with Rupetta’s or Henri’s story. The writing is evocative but also very earnest, lacking a sense of humour. The subject matter – twisted faith and historical truth, power and subjugation – doesn’t lend itself to a slap and a laugh. But that means that Rupetta and Henri feel one note, always serious even when they’re falling in love.
I also didn’t entirely believe in the world that Sulway has created. Its antecedents are clearly in steampunk, Rupetta is a clockwork automaton who becomes sentient. The added wrinkle is that her clockwork heart needs to be wound by someone who has an intimate and psychic bond with her. Neither Rupetta’s sentience nor the psychic link is adequately explained, we’re asked to take them on face value. And yet it’s a process that can be replicated to some degree as the privileged few are granted the possible gift of immortality with the replacement of their organic heart with a clockwork facsimile. Given that people don’t drop dead after the operation, and they seem to live longer lives, I can only assume that whatever magic brought Rupetta into being also plays a role in the Transformation. I just wish this had been better explained.
But maybe I’m being pedantic and anal. This isn’t really a book about the science of Rupetta. Rather it’s an exploration and critique of the religion and culture that has formed since her re-discovery. The books strength – especially in the first half – is understanding the role a reluctant Rupetta played in the radical development of her society. What’s interesting here is how Rupetta’s story is at odds with the ‘historical’ truth that’s been built around her – something that Henri becomes aware of. It’s this conflict between truth and faith that drives the themes and plot of the story.
What I also found refreshing – and what I’m sure caught the eye of the Tiptree judges – is the central role that strong, empowered women of different ideologies and backgrounds play in the formation of their society. It’s a woman, Eloise, that builds Rupetta. It’s a woman that re-discovers Rupetta after she’s been left unwound and forgotten. That same woman, Kamila, introduces the Fourfold Rupettan Law. And its courageous women, forced to live in the nooks and crannies of their society, who fight against those who slavishly uphold the Fourfold Law.
However, while I can acknowledge the books strengths and appreciate why it’s won and been nominated for awards, at the end of it all, the novel never entirely worked for me. I should have been more engaged with Rupetta’s tale and Henri’s search for the truth. And yet more often than not I found my attention drifting.
"I have known loss for centuries. I have borne the deaths of each of my companions, both dear and tolerated. I have lost families, loves, houses, villages. Whole cities, whole nations, have grown and decayed while I persisted. I have seen rivers change their course, mountains beaten down into hills, oceans swell and subside, seeds grow into great trees only to fall and die and rot. And yet this loss – the loss of one child – this loss I cannot bear.
If I were human I would weep."
It’s epic and it’s personal and it sets the scene of what’s to come – both in terms of the story and the quality of the writing. Echoing the intricate cogs and wheels that make up Rupetta’s heart, there’s something both beautiful and meticulous about the prose. As if each word has been carefully checked and polished to ensure it fits with the word that comes before it and the one that comes after.
But while it’s a delight to read, I never truly engaged with Rupetta’s or Henri’s story. The writing is evocative but also very earnest, lacking a sense of humour. The subject matter – twisted faith and historical truth, power and subjugation – doesn’t lend itself to a slap and a laugh. But that means that Rupetta and Henri feel one note, always serious even when they’re falling in love.
I also didn’t entirely believe in the world that Sulway has created. Its antecedents are clearly in steampunk, Rupetta is a clockwork automaton who becomes sentient. The added wrinkle is that her clockwork heart needs to be wound by someone who has an intimate and psychic bond with her. Neither Rupetta’s sentience nor the psychic link is adequately explained, we’re asked to take them on face value. And yet it’s a process that can be replicated to some degree as the privileged few are granted the possible gift of immortality with the replacement of their organic heart with a clockwork facsimile. Given that people don’t drop dead after the operation, and they seem to live longer lives, I can only assume that whatever magic brought Rupetta into being also plays a role in the Transformation. I just wish this had been better explained.
But maybe I’m being pedantic and anal. This isn’t really a book about the science of Rupetta. Rather it’s an exploration and critique of the religion and culture that has formed since her re-discovery. The books strength – especially in the first half – is understanding the role a reluctant Rupetta played in the radical development of her society. What’s interesting here is how Rupetta’s story is at odds with the ‘historical’ truth that’s been built around her – something that Henri becomes aware of. It’s this conflict between truth and faith that drives the themes and plot of the story.
What I also found refreshing – and what I’m sure caught the eye of the Tiptree judges – is the central role that strong, empowered women of different ideologies and backgrounds play in the formation of their society. It’s a woman, Eloise, that builds Rupetta. It’s a woman that re-discovers Rupetta after she’s been left unwound and forgotten. That same woman, Kamila, introduces the Fourfold Rupettan Law. And its courageous women, forced to live in the nooks and crannies of their society, who fight against those who slavishly uphold the Fourfold Law.
However, while I can acknowledge the books strengths and appreciate why it’s won and been nominated for awards, at the end of it all, the novel never entirely worked for me. I should have been more engaged with Rupetta’s tale and Henri’s search for the truth. And yet more often than not I found my attention drifting.
March 23, 2014
I want to give this book a 3.5. It's an imaginative steam-punkish novel with wonderful world building and lush language. It seemed like it would be a great book, but I found it ultimately unsatisfying. The author is too lavish with imagery and simile; beautiful as it all is, at times I longed for the clarity of plot exposition. I read for a while each night. I often found myself lost as the plot meandered through the centuries. I was often a bit annoyed at some unexplained but important aspect – for example, how did the mechanical co-protagonist become so life-like that her human lover was enchanted by the feel of her skin, her hair, her scent? There is too much world, too much history, too much plot for the book. It might have done well as a trilogy or duology (or whatever one calls a two-book series).
If you like steampunk, women's science fiction, or a book where you can savor every sentence, this is a book you should read. I found much to admire, but became impatient.
CAVEAT: I read it on my Kindle. Had I had the hardback, I would have enjoyed it more, I'm sure. I would have flipped back here and there from time to time. Kindle just doesn't cut it for that. So it is quite likely I'd have given the book 4 stars in print.
If you like steampunk, women's science fiction, or a book where you can savor every sentence, this is a book you should read. I found much to admire, but became impatient.
CAVEAT: I read it on my Kindle. Had I had the hardback, I would have enjoyed it more, I'm sure. I would have flipped back here and there from time to time. Kindle just doesn't cut it for that. So it is quite likely I'd have given the book 4 stars in print.
March 11, 2020
Rupetta is a conscious mechanical woman with a heart that needs to be wound up regularly. She shares a special relation with the wynder and one plotline tells her story from 400 years ago until the present day. In the second plotline we follow Henri as she starts her studies in history.
The strongest point of the novel is its beautiful language. Whenever I had the feeling that it became a bit slow and boring I stumbled upon phrases and descriptions that truly touched me. The author has a remarkable way with words and has created very compelling characters. They struggle with life and death, love and loneliness, hope and despair.
I had a good time with the book until the plot lines finally met. The focus started to shift to politics and left me wondering what was going on. It read like a different book to the extent that Henri's story is brought to an abrupt end.
This really spoiled the last quarter of the book for me and I only finished it because I loved the other parts so much. I can see that the author wanted to make a point here but in my opinion she would have to treat it a bit differently. The few things about the surrounding society didn't justify the fully blown final and turned me off.
The strong parts outweight the flaws so even if I give the book only 3 stars it gets my recommendation. If the sample chapters draw you in then by all means go out and read the book.
The strongest point of the novel is its beautiful language. Whenever I had the feeling that it became a bit slow and boring I stumbled upon phrases and descriptions that truly touched me. The author has a remarkable way with words and has created very compelling characters. They struggle with life and death, love and loneliness, hope and despair.
I had a good time with the book until the plot lines finally met. The focus started to shift to politics and left me wondering what was going on. It read like a different book to the extent that Henri's story is brought to an abrupt end.
This really spoiled the last quarter of the book for me and I only finished it because I loved the other parts so much. I can see that the author wanted to make a point here but in my opinion she would have to treat it a bit differently. The few things about the surrounding society didn't justify the fully blown final and turned me off.
The strong parts outweight the flaws so even if I give the book only 3 stars it gets my recommendation. If the sample chapters draw you in then by all means go out and read the book.
January 11, 2020
So that was quite an experience. A strange sort of read. Kind of a magical Sci-Fi fairy tale. A lush and delicate read, like wandering in a quiet forest, or perhaps more accurately, a disquiet forest.. At times, Sulway's vivid descriptions almost get in the way of the pace of the narrative, but it all comes together in the end.
I found this to be a book best read as if you were on a journey, but not in any particular hurry to arrive at your destination. If you're looking for a fast-paced read, seek your fortune elsewhere. I do appreciate an author who is able to bring you into a world of their own imagining, and who has the skills to deliver. Sulway is a talented writer, and this is a very good novel.
I found this to be a book best read as if you were on a journey, but not in any particular hurry to arrive at your destination. If you're looking for a fast-paced read, seek your fortune elsewhere. I do appreciate an author who is able to bring you into a world of their own imagining, and who has the skills to deliver. Sulway is a talented writer, and this is a very good novel.
April 17, 2015
In 2013, Nike Sulway won the Tiptree Award for her novel Rupetta, becoming the first Australian to win the award. Rupetta was also shortlisted for the Aurealis award for best science fiction novel, and won the Norma K. Hemming Award in 2014.
I purchased an ebook of Rupetta soon after the Tiptree win, and it was left lingering in my virtual to-be-read pile for too long (along with way too many books). This year, I’m trying to make inroads into reading through my to-be-read mountains, and Rupetta was a good place to start.
And I am now kicking myself for not reading it sooner. I actually almost wasn’t going to write a full review of this book, simply because I wasn’t certain that anything I could write would truly reflect how achingly beautiful this book is. I fell deep in love with Sulway’s extraordinary prose from the first page, and deeper still with Rupetta, Henri and their world. As soon as I finished the ebook, I hunted down a physical copy as well, just so I can have this gorgeous book on my shelf.
This book isn’t going to be for every reader. The prose is dense, oftentimes reading more like poetry than anything else, and the storyline isn’t linear. Each chapter feels very much as though it is a cog in part of a grand machine, like Rupetta herself. I feel very much that this is a book that will benefit from much reading and rereading in order to see the full pattern of that machine.
Women are the central focus of this book. Rupetta was created by a woman, and requires a psychic bond with a female Wynder in order to run. Generation through generation we follow the Wynders, each of their stories unique and compelling. Their bond to Rupetta, and Rupetta’s very existence, shapes the society around them.
The story is told in alternating chapters, one from Rupetta’s point of view following her history, and the next from Henri’s point of view. Henri longs to be an Obanite Historian like her mother, to be Transformed by having her heart replaced with a clockwork version. We follow with her as she rebels against her father’s wishes and enrols. As she delves deeper into history, she discovers more about the truth of Rupetta and the Obanites, as well as of her mother’s life.
None of the magic in this world is explained – not how Rupetta came to be, not how Rupetta bonds with her Wynders. I suspect this will frustrate some readers, but for me, the mystery of it only added to the enchantment of the book. My only real issue is that the ending didn’t quite draw together completely, but I feel that the sheer beauty of Sulway’s writing and the strength of the world and main characters more than makes up for this.
Sulway writes in an elaborate filigree which is not quite like anything else I’ve read. The closest I can come is comparing her to authors like Catherynne M. Valente and Sophia Samatar. Rupetta is fully deserving of the awards it has won, and I look forward to Sulway’s future books.
I purchased an ebook of Rupetta soon after the Tiptree win, and it was left lingering in my virtual to-be-read pile for too long (along with way too many books). This year, I’m trying to make inroads into reading through my to-be-read mountains, and Rupetta was a good place to start.
And I am now kicking myself for not reading it sooner. I actually almost wasn’t going to write a full review of this book, simply because I wasn’t certain that anything I could write would truly reflect how achingly beautiful this book is. I fell deep in love with Sulway’s extraordinary prose from the first page, and deeper still with Rupetta, Henri and their world. As soon as I finished the ebook, I hunted down a physical copy as well, just so I can have this gorgeous book on my shelf.
This book isn’t going to be for every reader. The prose is dense, oftentimes reading more like poetry than anything else, and the storyline isn’t linear. Each chapter feels very much as though it is a cog in part of a grand machine, like Rupetta herself. I feel very much that this is a book that will benefit from much reading and rereading in order to see the full pattern of that machine.
Women are the central focus of this book. Rupetta was created by a woman, and requires a psychic bond with a female Wynder in order to run. Generation through generation we follow the Wynders, each of their stories unique and compelling. Their bond to Rupetta, and Rupetta’s very existence, shapes the society around them.
The story is told in alternating chapters, one from Rupetta’s point of view following her history, and the next from Henri’s point of view. Henri longs to be an Obanite Historian like her mother, to be Transformed by having her heart replaced with a clockwork version. We follow with her as she rebels against her father’s wishes and enrols. As she delves deeper into history, she discovers more about the truth of Rupetta and the Obanites, as well as of her mother’s life.
None of the magic in this world is explained – not how Rupetta came to be, not how Rupetta bonds with her Wynders. I suspect this will frustrate some readers, but for me, the mystery of it only added to the enchantment of the book. My only real issue is that the ending didn’t quite draw together completely, but I feel that the sheer beauty of Sulway’s writing and the strength of the world and main characters more than makes up for this.
Sulway writes in an elaborate filigree which is not quite like anything else I’ve read. The closest I can come is comparing her to authors like Catherynne M. Valente and Sophia Samatar. Rupetta is fully deserving of the awards it has won, and I look forward to Sulway’s future books.
February 20, 2015
Death gives meaning to life. I've seen that sentiment repeated in different ways, in many places.
Love brings meaning to life. Filial and paternal love. Fraternal and sororal love. Erotic love. In love, there's a spark that can pass from one person to another, rejuvenating them, sustaining them for a time, all because of a meaningful look, a familiar glance, a routine act of devoted love.
Life and death are forever at odds. At least, that's the way it plays out in this story. Immortality versus mortality. Each envy the other what they cannot have. Each makes the other into hyperbole.
On the surface, Rupetta is about a mechanical woman. A marvel of technology, created by a genius, never to be repeated. Her existence changes the world. From her come the inspiration for all sorts of mechanical marvels: Wynder lights; clockwork toys; airships; ominous bladed mounts. Power structures change based on people's relationship to her, changing the history of our world into something else.
But there's a sort of spiritual connection between Rupetta and each woman in the long line of her Wynders. Never stated explicitly, the Wynding that keeps Rupetta going is more than just a mechanical winding of a mainspring. There's some sort of life that passes from each Wynder to Rupetta, and a sharing of thoughts and memories. Those around her think she's eternal, but she still relies on others like a parasite or vampire. Or maybe it's simpler. In a way, we all live off the death of other things, other animals and plants.
Rupetta, the novel, seems initially like it'll be just another steampunk story, but I'm glad it isn't. Most steampunk stories seem cliche and tropy to me, so I've avoided them. Rupetta, though, rises above my stereotype. I saw Nike Sulway get her Tiptree award, and heard lots of interesting discussion about the book in panels throughout WisCon weekend. Still, my anti-steampunk bias kept from reading the book. Until now.
I'm so glad I read it.
Love brings meaning to life. Filial and paternal love. Fraternal and sororal love. Erotic love. In love, there's a spark that can pass from one person to another, rejuvenating them, sustaining them for a time, all because of a meaningful look, a familiar glance, a routine act of devoted love.
Life and death are forever at odds. At least, that's the way it plays out in this story. Immortality versus mortality. Each envy the other what they cannot have. Each makes the other into hyperbole.
On the surface, Rupetta is about a mechanical woman. A marvel of technology, created by a genius, never to be repeated. Her existence changes the world. From her come the inspiration for all sorts of mechanical marvels: Wynder lights; clockwork toys; airships; ominous bladed mounts. Power structures change based on people's relationship to her, changing the history of our world into something else.
But there's a sort of spiritual connection between Rupetta and each woman in the long line of her Wynders. Never stated explicitly, the Wynding that keeps Rupetta going is more than just a mechanical winding of a mainspring. There's some sort of life that passes from each Wynder to Rupetta, and a sharing of thoughts and memories. Those around her think she's eternal, but she still relies on others like a parasite or vampire. Or maybe it's simpler. In a way, we all live off the death of other things, other animals and plants.
Rupetta, the novel, seems initially like it'll be just another steampunk story, but I'm glad it isn't. Most steampunk stories seem cliche and tropy to me, so I've avoided them. Rupetta, though, rises above my stereotype. I saw Nike Sulway get her Tiptree award, and heard lots of interesting discussion about the book in panels throughout WisCon weekend. Still, my anti-steampunk bias kept from reading the book. Until now.
I'm so glad I read it.
December 12, 2014
Rupetta is an exquisite mystery, delving into the complexities of history, memory and the concept of created humanity. Rupetta, the protagonist, is an automaton, and the story is narrated from her perspective through history, at the same time as Henri, a historian delves through the Rupettan history in the present day.
Past and present move towards each other in this detailed world. Nike Sulway has created an original concept with the Wynders - women who are destined to wind Rupetta's mechanical parts - following Rupetta's history into eventual her unwanted deification. Modern universities are full of students and staff who become "penitent" and embrace a mechanical heart after the Rupettan Law, allowing them to live forever. Henri's exploration of this history follows her transition into adulthood, forcing her to make decisions about the histories she uncovers.
The book is difficult to classify - while it could be considered steampunk, it has none of the tropes that populate the genre. It feels like weird fiction to me; that elusive, mythical beast. Regardless of genre, it is an exceptionally well written book, meditating on the power of history to define culture, gender and love.
Like Scheherazade, Sulway delves into the almost fairytale-like stories of Rupetta's history, such as the stunning scene at court playing Oraki. I found that sometimes the fables lacked the anchors to tie them to this world, but Rupetta's world merely echoes our own devotion to technology and immortality.
Rupetta won a well deserved Tiptree Award, and in reading Sulway's acceptance speech she references the history of Descartes, as part of the influence on this book. It is a philosophical book, but it is not so far removed from story that it bereaves the human and emotional aspect at the same time. I'm keen to see what comes next from Nike Sulway's pen.
Past and present move towards each other in this detailed world. Nike Sulway has created an original concept with the Wynders - women who are destined to wind Rupetta's mechanical parts - following Rupetta's history into eventual her unwanted deification. Modern universities are full of students and staff who become "penitent" and embrace a mechanical heart after the Rupettan Law, allowing them to live forever. Henri's exploration of this history follows her transition into adulthood, forcing her to make decisions about the histories she uncovers.
The book is difficult to classify - while it could be considered steampunk, it has none of the tropes that populate the genre. It feels like weird fiction to me; that elusive, mythical beast. Regardless of genre, it is an exceptionally well written book, meditating on the power of history to define culture, gender and love.
Like Scheherazade, Sulway delves into the almost fairytale-like stories of Rupetta's history, such as the stunning scene at court playing Oraki. I found that sometimes the fables lacked the anchors to tie them to this world, but Rupetta's world merely echoes our own devotion to technology and immortality.
Rupetta won a well deserved Tiptree Award, and in reading Sulway's acceptance speech she references the history of Descartes, as part of the influence on this book. It is a philosophical book, but it is not so far removed from story that it bereaves the human and emotional aspect at the same time. I'm keen to see what comes next from Nike Sulway's pen.
May 30, 2015
Of the many wonders of WisCon39 (feminist science fiction/fantasy convention in Madison, WI), discovering Tiptree Award-winning books is at the top. Rupetta won the Tiptree last year. You can read Nike Sulway's acceptance speech here. http://tinyurl.com/ncoxhe4 In the Dealer's Room at the convention, A Room of One's Own bookstore had a table laden with a smorgasbord of marvelous books. I got the 2 that were awarded the Tiptree this year for 2014 and will read them next. But I will wait until Rupetta has settled, because the book deserves quiet reflection and reverent assimilation. Sulway moves between the present day at Elm College where the Historian, Henriette researches the Salt Lane Witches, Emmeline and Mathilde and their Heretical school for non-Pentitent children; to the long centuries of Rupetta's existence, beginning with her creation by the first Wynder, Eloise. A tale of seeds, stories, souls and the connection those words share, told by beings who join via keys, love and heartbreaking parental devotion. Every character is knowable, written with elegance and heart. We can feel Rupetta's loneliness, Henri's longing, Margause's long suffering, Perdita's childlike adulthood. A nameless woman in a crowd who tells the tale of the Architects and the pontoon City of Bridges is vividly alive. The villains are written puppetty, sharp, foolish and indescribably cruel in their thinness. A philosophical contemplation, rich romance, lyrical wonder, like music and punguent spices. I wanted it read aloud to me for 1000 nights. Perhaps one day I'll read it aloud to myself. I'll start Rupetta in winter, imagining her in early days, watching the apple tree branches outside the window change through the seasons.
January 2, 2015
This novel. Wow. There's just so much going on I don't know where to start. Spanning hundreds of years it is the story of Rupetta. A mechanical woman, made not born, but with a consciousness. With a conscience. With a heart. It is also the story of the lies that grow around her. It is about the fictions that grow in the spaces left by the absence of a single, simple truth. Because there's never any such thing as a single, simple truth. Life isn't like that. It is about blind faith and horror and about love. It's difficult to know how to review this. I don't even know what genre it is. Fantasy? Steampunk? Horror? Quite simply I loved it.
Full review here: http://leatherboundpounds.wordpress.c...
Full review here: http://leatherboundpounds.wordpress.c...
June 24, 2013
I really liked this ... I don't read much speculative fiction so have no idea how it compares within the genre but I kept being reminded of Margaret Atwood's work whilst reading it. There were so many little details that I liked - the clockwork bird, the conversation cafe, what happens in a culture that cuts out its heart in order to live forever, ... - and sure, at times I was a bit overwhelmed by the detail but it's SO beautifully written and realised. My #2 favourite book this year - just pipped by the Pulitzer Prize winner ;)
August 27, 2013
This is a beautifully written fantastical fiction. There were moments when I stopped to read her sentences over and over again. An epic tale of love, the fight for humanity and how power and greed can re-interpret a miracle for their own ends. The ending chapters are however confused and somewhat trite. I would have loved the book to stay with its theme of the question of humanity both literal and figurative.
June 1, 2014
God this is gorgeous. So gorgeous. I should say more about it, talk about the ways in which it explores humanity and gender and relationships, talk about the glorious libraryporn, talk about how the words and the ideas and the characters moved me so much. But I'm still basking in the afterglow so that shall have to wait for another time.
August 2, 2018
Achingly poetic and deeply philosophical, this beautiful alternate history is a careful examination of history, zealotry, love and loss. Effortless characterisation and lush descriptions that never strayed into self-indulgence made the mystery of Rupetta all the more joyful (albeit a bittersweet flavour thereof) a journey for me. A gorgeous, enriching book.
April 3, 2025
Complex story, very in-depth. Both a coming-of-age and an epic love story, with an excellent study of politics and religion. Lovely prose, good pacing, wonderful characters with a variety of motivations. Very literary feel to it.
October 16, 2014
Rupetta is the story of a centuries-old clockwork automaton whose mechanical heart must be “wound” through the touch and the psychic bond of a “Wynder”, ideally (but not always) a female descendant of the original maker. Her existence, and more specifically her immortality, sparks a religious and political movement in which she is elevated to a deity, and which is expressed by its followers in the “Rupettan four-fold law” (which reminded me somewhat of Asimov’s Three Laws of Robotics). Rupetta’s story is told in two plotlines which become increasingly intertwined: one as a ruminative history told by Rupetta herself to her love, and one which follows the story of Henri, the Obanite Historian-in-training who will become that love.
Sulway’s world is interesting, with scholarly orders of Obanite “Penitents” who study history and whose highest goal is to replace their organic hearts with clockwork ones so that they too can become (almost) immortal, and a complex religious/political history full of heretics and secrets which get uncovered and slowly come into focus throughout the book. There is a tension between those who want humans and their lives to become more mechanical and orderly (like the clockwork Rupetta), and those who still believe in messy, organic ways of living close to the earth and the making of things by hand (this tension reminded me strongly of the central conflict between groups in Heather McDougal’s book Songs for a Machine Age, so if you liked that you’d probably like this too, and vice versa). Henri, one of the central narrators, is studying to become an Obanite Historian, but for her thesis she is researching the “Salt Lane Heretics”, a pair of women revolutionaries who years ago started a school for children that prioritized interacting with nature and taught through old-fashioned techniques of gardening, cooking, and farmsteading. The Salt Lane Heretics were shut down by the ruling powers (though it’s never exactly explained how or when) and years before Henri arrives on the scene, their stuff is squirreled away in untidy boxes and heaps just in case it might some day be of interest to any future historians. However, until Henri comes along the implication is that (like much of women’s history in our own world) it’s of such minor importance or interest that no one has bothered to do anything with it and even sorting the stuff into archival preservation standards is more of a waste-of-time punishment than actual Historical work. But of course what Henri begins to uncover in the archives and in her research becomes more and more interesting—and then dangerous—as she gets farther into it. (Disclaimer: I am a sucker for books about academics, especially academics who realize ‘hey, this whole system is flawed and hiding stuff’, so these were some of the most vivid parts of the book for me.)
I understand why this book was intriguing to the Tiptree Award committee. It is full of complex, strong women characters who drive the plot and express the central themes, but it also takes the somewhat familiar idea of a sentient “android” who struggles with emotions and comparisons to/effects on humanity, and expresses it in a way that feels particularly feminine. Made by a woman in a way that includes traditionally “feminine” craft forms like sewing and weaving, and given female form, Rupetta is a feeling being, though sometimes those feelings express themselves in a way that make it clear she is not human. It also contrasts and addresses the tensions between the traditionally male, emotionally-abstracted and intellectualized “life of the mind” and the traditionally female, embodied and emotionally-rich “life of the hands”.
This book also spends a lot of time playing around with themes of religious fundamentalism and the ways in which politics and religion intertwine and shape culture in sometimes unexpected ways over time, but ultimately for me even though these themes are interesting ones, this interplay was not the novel’s strong point. The strong point for me was the insightful and beautifully written character development and romance(s) between the characters, especially since many of those romance elements were centered on female-female relationships and this is something I don’t think we get enough of in fantasy fiction (though this is changing). In general, I also really admired the author’s writing throughout the book—her use of language is really lovely.
On the maybe “not so great” side, at least for me as a reader: there’s a lot of what feels like a refusal of the author to directly clue the reader in to the world’s history and current religion/politics (instead, like many an SFF book, we are left to glean what hints we can through mentions dropped here and there). When that coyness in worldbuilding is mixed with a narrative that jumps around in time and plot intrigues that start to get much more complex as the book progresses, it wound up being a little frustrating to me. I appreciate tight POV, a little mystery and slow reveals, but I would have appreciated even more a few well-placed infodumps I could refer back to as needed.
In summary: you will like this book if you like gorgeous prose, a little steampunk and lesbian romance in your fantasy, and if you enjoy some thoughtful exploration of issues of immortality, religious history, and tech-vs-organic tensions.
A Heroines of Fantasy review
Sulway’s world is interesting, with scholarly orders of Obanite “Penitents” who study history and whose highest goal is to replace their organic hearts with clockwork ones so that they too can become (almost) immortal, and a complex religious/political history full of heretics and secrets which get uncovered and slowly come into focus throughout the book. There is a tension between those who want humans and their lives to become more mechanical and orderly (like the clockwork Rupetta), and those who still believe in messy, organic ways of living close to the earth and the making of things by hand (this tension reminded me strongly of the central conflict between groups in Heather McDougal’s book Songs for a Machine Age, so if you liked that you’d probably like this too, and vice versa). Henri, one of the central narrators, is studying to become an Obanite Historian, but for her thesis she is researching the “Salt Lane Heretics”, a pair of women revolutionaries who years ago started a school for children that prioritized interacting with nature and taught through old-fashioned techniques of gardening, cooking, and farmsteading. The Salt Lane Heretics were shut down by the ruling powers (though it’s never exactly explained how or when) and years before Henri arrives on the scene, their stuff is squirreled away in untidy boxes and heaps just in case it might some day be of interest to any future historians. However, until Henri comes along the implication is that (like much of women’s history in our own world) it’s of such minor importance or interest that no one has bothered to do anything with it and even sorting the stuff into archival preservation standards is more of a waste-of-time punishment than actual Historical work. But of course what Henri begins to uncover in the archives and in her research becomes more and more interesting—and then dangerous—as she gets farther into it. (Disclaimer: I am a sucker for books about academics, especially academics who realize ‘hey, this whole system is flawed and hiding stuff’, so these were some of the most vivid parts of the book for me.)
I understand why this book was intriguing to the Tiptree Award committee. It is full of complex, strong women characters who drive the plot and express the central themes, but it also takes the somewhat familiar idea of a sentient “android” who struggles with emotions and comparisons to/effects on humanity, and expresses it in a way that feels particularly feminine. Made by a woman in a way that includes traditionally “feminine” craft forms like sewing and weaving, and given female form, Rupetta is a feeling being, though sometimes those feelings express themselves in a way that make it clear she is not human. It also contrasts and addresses the tensions between the traditionally male, emotionally-abstracted and intellectualized “life of the mind” and the traditionally female, embodied and emotionally-rich “life of the hands”.
This book also spends a lot of time playing around with themes of religious fundamentalism and the ways in which politics and religion intertwine and shape culture in sometimes unexpected ways over time, but ultimately for me even though these themes are interesting ones, this interplay was not the novel’s strong point. The strong point for me was the insightful and beautifully written character development and romance(s) between the characters, especially since many of those romance elements were centered on female-female relationships and this is something I don’t think we get enough of in fantasy fiction (though this is changing). In general, I also really admired the author’s writing throughout the book—her use of language is really lovely.
On the maybe “not so great” side, at least for me as a reader: there’s a lot of what feels like a refusal of the author to directly clue the reader in to the world’s history and current religion/politics (instead, like many an SFF book, we are left to glean what hints we can through mentions dropped here and there). When that coyness in worldbuilding is mixed with a narrative that jumps around in time and plot intrigues that start to get much more complex as the book progresses, it wound up being a little frustrating to me. I appreciate tight POV, a little mystery and slow reveals, but I would have appreciated even more a few well-placed infodumps I could refer back to as needed.
In summary: you will like this book if you like gorgeous prose, a little steampunk and lesbian romance in your fantasy, and if you enjoy some thoughtful exploration of issues of immortality, religious history, and tech-vs-organic tensions.
A Heroines of Fantasy review
October 25, 2023
i think i’m left feeling unsatisfied… i wish there was more and i wish i knew the ins and outs of every character. i think some things should have just been explained more at some point. i liked the unknown aspect to it but i wanted to KNOW at some point.
overall i liked it. it was easy to get lost in and continued to pull me in.
overall i liked it. it was easy to get lost in and continued to pull me in.
September 30, 2014
I have some mixed feelings about this one.
It was inventive and unusual, and it had diverse and interesting female characters. The sections with Henri were my favourite, and I absolutely loved the romance that developed between her and Miri. Their love was really at the heart of the book for me.
I also enjoyed the writing style. It was quite beautiful, and some of it was very poetic. One particular part which stood out for me was a page describing Henri's feelings towards Miri, and it's a clash of mixed images that somehow works so well to capture what it feels like to have that overwhelming young, new love.
On the other hand, there was a lot of the book which I found frustrating and difficult to engage with. A big part of this was that I struggled to engage with the fundamental premise - I wasn't really convinced by the worship of Rupetta, which underpinned the greater political context of the story.
I also struggled to follow the story a lot of the time. I never really developed a clear sense of time or place, and I struggled to follow the characters' motivations. I really lost the plot in the last third of the book, and I didn't really feel like the story resolved or went anywhere satisfying.
Some things didn't feel very well explained.
I don't know if I can really recommend this book. I'm torn between a 3 and a 4 star rating, but I love books by and about women, and the well-written female characters and their relationships warrant the higher rating for me. It was inventive and really interesting, and while I found it frustrating a lot of the time, there was a lot about it which I did appreciate.
It was inventive and unusual, and it had diverse and interesting female characters. The sections with Henri were my favourite, and I absolutely loved the romance that developed between her and Miri. Their love was really at the heart of the book for me.
I also enjoyed the writing style. It was quite beautiful, and some of it was very poetic. One particular part which stood out for me was a page describing Henri's feelings towards Miri, and it's a clash of mixed images that somehow works so well to capture what it feels like to have that overwhelming young, new love.
I wanted to eat her. Wanted to shell her like a pea. Find her fresh green centre. My whole body was turned inside out. I was a spilled sack of stars. I had no right to be so happy. To walk so completely out of myself and into her.
On the other hand, there was a lot of the book which I found frustrating and difficult to engage with. A big part of this was that I struggled to engage with the fundamental premise - I wasn't really convinced by the worship of Rupetta, which underpinned the greater political context of the story.
I also struggled to follow the story a lot of the time. I never really developed a clear sense of time or place, and I struggled to follow the characters' motivations. I really lost the plot in the last third of the book, and I didn't really feel like the story resolved or went anywhere satisfying.
Some things didn't feel very well explained.
I don't know if I can really recommend this book. I'm torn between a 3 and a 4 star rating, but I love books by and about women, and the well-written female characters and their relationships warrant the higher rating for me. It was inventive and really interesting, and while I found it frustrating a lot of the time, there was a lot about it which I did appreciate.
August 17, 2015
“History was an art form — the delicate, dangerous art of creating the past.”
Science fiction writers have long used visions of animatronic machines and robots to questions the nature of humanity and god and to explore what constitutes a soul. In this beautiful and strange alternate history, N.A. Sulway performs a similar exploration while also taking into consideration how history is shaped and how the creation of history through carefully selected "facts" or stories shapes a society.
Rupetta is an animatronic object, constructed in the 1600s by a young French woman out of brass gears and cogs and leather fittings to resemble a human being. She shares souls and consciousness with the women who wynd her. As Rupetta recounts her own story, in which she witnesses centuries, from her creation to the formation of a new society with her image at its center, she reveals the ways she has been loved, hated, and used by the women she is bound to, as well as the ways she herself has loved.
Alternating with her own story is Henri’s tale, a young woman living in the “present” day society formed out of the devotion to the Fourfold Rupettan Law — “Life is Death. The Earth is a Grave. The Body is a Machine for Dying. Knowledge is the Path to Imortality.” Henri longs to be a historian of the Penitent order and to give up her human heart for a mechanical one that would extend her life. In her researches on the Salt Lake Witches, she uncovers a hidden secret that could shake the stability of the current societal order.
This was a strange and wonderful read with beautiful language. I loved the varying relationships between each of these women, based on kindness, love, friendship, and trust, as well as pain, betrayal, and anger. At it’s core this is a love story interweaved with the histories that shape society and the intellectual rebellions that threaten to undo it.
The hardback edition is out of print and expensive to purchase, but I recommend picking up a digital copy.
Science fiction writers have long used visions of animatronic machines and robots to questions the nature of humanity and god and to explore what constitutes a soul. In this beautiful and strange alternate history, N.A. Sulway performs a similar exploration while also taking into consideration how history is shaped and how the creation of history through carefully selected "facts" or stories shapes a society.
Rupetta is an animatronic object, constructed in the 1600s by a young French woman out of brass gears and cogs and leather fittings to resemble a human being. She shares souls and consciousness with the women who wynd her. As Rupetta recounts her own story, in which she witnesses centuries, from her creation to the formation of a new society with her image at its center, she reveals the ways she has been loved, hated, and used by the women she is bound to, as well as the ways she herself has loved.
Alternating with her own story is Henri’s tale, a young woman living in the “present” day society formed out of the devotion to the Fourfold Rupettan Law — “Life is Death. The Earth is a Grave. The Body is a Machine for Dying. Knowledge is the Path to Imortality.” Henri longs to be a historian of the Penitent order and to give up her human heart for a mechanical one that would extend her life. In her researches on the Salt Lake Witches, she uncovers a hidden secret that could shake the stability of the current societal order.
This was a strange and wonderful read with beautiful language. I loved the varying relationships between each of these women, based on kindness, love, friendship, and trust, as well as pain, betrayal, and anger. At it’s core this is a love story interweaved with the histories that shape society and the intellectual rebellions that threaten to undo it.
The hardback edition is out of print and expensive to purchase, but I recommend picking up a digital copy.
June 17, 2018
Less a novel than a work of art Rupetta is beautifully written and even more beautifully imagined. Its a steampunk fairytale, an alternate history with lashings of magical realism and a densely literary work about knowledge and power and love and loss and I can't recommend it highly enough. This is a novel of gorgeous style and great substance - story about the inherent slipperiness of history in a political context where there is only one right and true version of events which are very far removed from the lived experience of them. It deals too with the role of religious orthodoxy and construction of truth and knowledge and right in repressive societies deftly and with great sensitivity. At its centre though despite all its sweeping imagination and lush prose its a rather quiet and moving story about deep and abiding love between women, as friends, as lovers and as mothers (as well as mystical Wynders). The divided timelines device is astutely handled and Sulway maintains dramatic tension without giving too much away, requiring readers to work to assemble the threads dangled throughout the plot to pull the whole together. Its an immensely satisfying read.
August 24, 2015
Sulway's genre-bridging work of sci-fi/gothic horror/alernative history fully earns the adjective 'baroque', both in its Byzantine structure and in the evocative richness of its imagery and world-building. What lingers in the mind, amidst the inventiveness with which it establishes a post-human consciousness and narrative voice, its feminist reworking of the trope of the female automaton, the symbolic depth of the fictional belief system and social order it builds, the narrative games it plays through the intersection of its multiple timelines and the marvelous scenes it conjures up, is, very simply, its warmth. This is an uncommonly domestic epic that unashamedly pines for the simple pleasures of cooking, gardening, reading, sitting around a table with those closest to your heart, drinking tea and eating cakes. And there's something very refreshing about that.
October 18, 2015
I do believe I have found a new 'favorite' author in "Rupetta". The unique setting of this book takes you into a historical world where a bit of Steampunk mashes into reality creating a new 'religion' that alters the lives of many. The relationships of the women are deep, sordid and involved. Sulway takes you into a level of relationships that is rarely touched.
Often, in reading, when you get a lot of detailed descriptions of 'things' it becomes a boring grocery list. This book is just the opposite. Sulway will have you chomping at the bit for more. She eloquently slides all this information in that puts the reader in her world with these women. You will want to become them, to be them. The emotion and desires that ride through the story, wave after wave hold you on the edge with wanting more, but maybe not. But you will want to know more and that's what keeps you turning the page.
Often, in reading, when you get a lot of detailed descriptions of 'things' it becomes a boring grocery list. This book is just the opposite. Sulway will have you chomping at the bit for more. She eloquently slides all this information in that puts the reader in her world with these women. You will want to become them, to be them. The emotion and desires that ride through the story, wave after wave hold you on the edge with wanting more, but maybe not. But you will want to know more and that's what keeps you turning the page.
April 14, 2013
A beautifully written book. We follow the main character of Rupetta, part human, part clockwork, from her creation to her deification over five centuries. An alternative history sf fantasy, reminiscent of 'His Dark Materials' in it's attack on religious fundamentalism. The main fault for me was the transformation of Rupetta to a goddess was unconvincing.
September 2, 2016
Katharine is a judge for the Aurealis Awards. This review is the personal opinion of Katharine herself, and does not necessarily reflect the opinion of any judging panel, the judging coordinator or the Aurealis Awards management team.
June 19, 2014
I'm uncertain how I feel about this book. I really enjoyed reading it, but the ending felt anticlimactic, and left me feeling little hope for humanity. Like all people do, or at least people in power do, is ruin things. But I still enjoyed it.
April 2, 2017
This seriously brilliant. Rich, textured, adult and full of unexpected but logical things. Wow!
December 3, 2014
A beautifully written epic of literary fantasy that explores the outer limits of the genre while still celebrating its tropes with honesty and knowledge and love.
May 10, 2015
Lovely prose and evocative imagery but the plot lines can be confusing.
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