In The Demons We See, mages are enslaved, using their powers to produce magical goods or to support other industry. The most powerful mages, elementals, are typically sent to work in mines which operate as de facto prisons, and their lives are hellish and brief. Our main character is Allegra, the Contessa of Marsina, who has lived a somewhat retiring life in a mountainside abbey. She is a vocal opponent of mage slavery, but when the novel opens she has generally confined her opposition to financial support of abolitionist causes rather than other political activity in the world at large. She has good reason--she is herself not merely a mage (this is widely known) but also an elemental (this is a secret known to only a few). As the novel opens Allegra has been invited by the highest religious leader of the land, an old friend, to take on the role of "Arbiter" and mediate the growing conflict between the pro- and anti-slave factions. Resistant at first, eventually she embraces the role and the bulk of the novel involves her delicate, and occasionally violent, negotiations between the factions, as well as a blossoming romance with the dashing Captain Stanton Rainier who has been assigned to protect and support her.
I enjoyed the novel, primarily on the basis of the engaging and interesting characters, especially Allegra. I also had a few reservations--one based on some confusion about the genre, and the other based on the "tell, don't show" writing style which I felt dominated the narrative. I'll talk about my reservations first.
I'm not quite certain what specific genre you would classify The Demons We See as, beyond the generic "fantasy" appellation. This isn't a real problem with the book itself, but the blurb for the novel gives a somewhat misleading idea of what to expect, and because I went into the book expecting one thing it took me a while to adjust to the actual style. This is the description of the book given on Amazon (as well as in the Kindle version I read):
>>Society was rocked when the Cathedral appointed Allegra, Contessa of Marsina, to negotiate the delicate peace talks between the rebelling mage slaves and the various states. Not only was she a highborn mage, she was a nonbeliever and a vocal objector against the supposed demonic origins of witchcraft. Demons weren’t real, she’d argued, and therefore the subjection of mages was unlawful.
>>That was all before the first assassination attempt. That was before Allegra heard the demonic shrieks. All before everything changed. Now Allegra and her personal guards race to stabilize the peace before the entire known world explodes into war with not just itself, but with the abyss from beyond.
>>So much for demons not being real.
This is not technically inaccurate, but it suggests--to me at least--an "epic" or "high" fantasy nature to the story that really isn't there. The story really is very light on direct action scenes and consists more of characters discussing moral politics and enacting various political directives (largely off-screen). There is also the burgeoning romance between Allegra and Stanton, which is the primary subplot. The clothes characters wear and the food they eat are described in some detail, but the magic system is barely described at all, and action scenes are definitely subordinate to the dialogue. (It's like if someone asked you to describe the chapter "The Council of Elrond" from The Fellowship of the Ring, and you said, "it's about the reawakening of ancient evil and powerful wizards fighting each other and noble warriors and a great magic weapon." That's technically true, I suppose, but really it's about a bunch of dudes sitting around a table talking to each other. )
The blurb also suggests that the idea of "demons being real" and a demonic invasion would be a major plot point. However, the most minor hints at this plot don't show up until the 60% point, and doesn't directly manifest until the the book is 95% over (based on my Kindle stats). It doesn't have the prominence that the novel's description suggests.
I'm not sure what genre I would put this novel in--"fantasy of manners" doesn't seem quite right, nor does "costume drama." It's almost "political fantasy." And that isn't bad in itself, but based on the blurb I expecting something more frenetic and quick paced. Things like the consistent description of clothing and all of the talking fit the actual style and mood of what the novel was going for--a style and mood which I generally enjoyed--but for a good while in the beginning I was judging the book through an inaccurate lens.
Somewhat related to the novel's preference for dialogue over action is a pronounced tendency to a "tell, don't show" style. The majority of the book consists of people talking to each other, usually Allegra and at least one interlocutor, about the various social and moral issues at play. This is perhaps a natural result of Allegra being the primary POV character (a few other characters have POV scenes but Allegra's POV dominates)--her role is to mediate between high-ranking individuals and to, in essence, draft legislation. Her role is not to be in the trenches and see that her decisions are carried out. While the dialogue is well-written, sometimes witty, sometimes stirring, sometimes unflinching, I sometimes felt emotionally removed from the novel.
This is definitely a book with an explicit morality. There are no moral shades of gray here--there is a clear distinction between justice and injustice, between good and evil, and which side we're supposed to be on. (This clear moral code is the most traditionally "epic fantasy" aspect of the novel.) This moral position is very liberal (in the modern political sense of the term). The in-world "mage slavery" has aspects which reflect both real-world racism and gay rights, and other liberal political topics get their time on the stage, including ethical consumption, the status of refugees, and even mansplaining. The book's title The Demons We See suggests the question, "what are the demons we can't see?," and the answer I think is the variety of cruelties we inflict upon other human beings in daily life. Certain worldbuilding elements, such as the normalization of LGBT people, are non-political, in that they are simply presented as existing rather than being the focus of political conflict.
Besides the fact that this explicit morality generally coincides with my own personal views, I enjoyed seeing modern ethical debate played out in a fantasy setting. However, with few exceptions this ethical debate is strictly confined to people talking about it, either in dialogue or in internal monologue. We very rarely see any of the actual individuals whose lives are being effected by these debates and legislating. (There's almost a meta political point happening about class-based privilege.) I don't think we need torture porn to understand the idea that "slavery is bad," but given all the talking, all the discussion, and the lack of involvement with the actual people effected I started to feel emotionally removed from what was going on, to the point that occasionally two characters talking to each other started to feel like the author talking at me. Let me give an example:
At one point in the story a young boy, who may or may not have magical abilities, steals a loaf of bread and attacks someone. The boy is arrested and sentenced. We don't learn about this because we see it happen, we learn about it because two characters talk about it, chastising each other, presenting their opinions in a shouting match. We never see the boy experiencing deprivation that might push him to act desperately--we never see the boy at all. We're just told there's a boy and he did something and this is how we should feel about. In a later scene where the boy is about to be hanged, even though the boy is himself ostensibly present, he's barely actually there (the extent of description of him is that he "sobbed and sniffled.") and only serves as a catalyst for the action of another, more powerful, character.
This is a consistent pattern in the novel. High political and moral drama is played out exclusively in dialogue of characters removed from the action. (The end of the novel does involve a lot of physical action, action which is more stereotypical "fantasy" perhaps, but this a marked departure from what comes before.) These dialogues are often stirring and, in themselves, exciting rhetoric, but the line between speeches and speechifying is often a very thin one.
So I suppose with all this criticism it would be fair to ask why I kept reading. I actually enjoyed the book quite a bit, and the reason for that comes directly down to the characters, especially Allegra. I enjoyed reading about her, and I think she is a good example of a fantasy hero, bearing wit, intelligence, and perseverance as her weapons. Allegra is a strong character with agency in the world. She makes decisions which affect the world around her and which have realistic repercussions. Her character development from something of a limousine liberal to a real hero for her cause not only made sense but was quite captivating. I thought she was witty, thoughtful, compassionate, proud. She isn't perfect--in particular, she is on a few occasions accused of hypocrisy (including by herself), and this accusation has some justification. Her fears were realistic, as well as her passions. Actually, this goes back to my point about "tell, don't show": besides having extensive access to her spoken words and her inner thoughts, there are several circumstances where we directly see Allegra experiencing the consequences of her actions. At one point she is almost taken into custody, at another she is brutally attacked by a political foe. Her exhaustion is described physically on the page, instead of just being reported to us by someone else. None of these scenes feel gratuitous, though they are often quite violent, but rather they support her development and depiction as a character.
Other minor characters shine as well. In particular I enjoyed Lex, one of the members of Captain Rainier's force of guards who becomes something of a confidante and friend to Allegra. They were, especially paired with their BFF Dodd, fun but never mere comic relief. I appreciated their bravery and how they acted under pressure. I'm not certain if it's more appropriate to say Lex is trans or nonbinary, but I thought the depiction of their gender identity was done well. There's also the gallant Captain Rainier himself. While I admit that the romance subplot with Allegra and Rainier isn't the sort of thing I naturally gravitate towards--the very first time they were in a carriage together I was like, "just fuck already!"--but I think that if you are into slow-burn (but definitely burning) romances, you will enjoy this one.
I kept thinking that The Demons We See would make for a good Broadway musical. I'm serious. There would be limited stage sets required. You could blow a huge budget on costume design. "People talking to each other" is almost tailor-made for a stage play. Songs from the score might include: "Don't Lose Hope, Mrs. Ansley"; "It's Elemental, My Dear Walter"; "I Burn Inside (With Love)"; and "Coming Out of The Frying Pan and Into the Fire."
I liked the book quite a lot, primarily on the strength of the characters. There were a few typos and typesetting issues but nothing distracting. I would definitely read the sequel, and other books Ball has written.
Score: 3.5, rounded up to 4.
You should read this book if you like:
* a book with a forward, clear, and stirring moral message
* strong female characters
* being able to visualize everything characters wear and eat
* a realistic, book-length romance
* taunting your enemies while drinking bone marrow broth
You should avoid this book if:
* you enjoy frequent, high-octane action scenes
* you don't like cliffhanger endings
* description of clothes and food doesn't interest you
* you like well-thought-out "hard" magic systems
* you think SJWs killed Star Wars