A short and sexy gem that doesn’t overstay its welcome, Marionette was a delightful little palate cleanser in-between lengthier reads.
This is my second NetGalley selection for review, and though I love (and plan on reviewing) many disparate genres, I clearly did not stray far from my predilection for horror. Although I’d not heard of Antonia Rachel Ward prior to requesting this book, I was passingly familiar with the Ghost Orchid Press imprint which she founded and edits for. With that minor familiarity in place, I figured that my enjoyment of Marionette would be nearly assured. Needless to say, if felt good to be correct!
I also feel it’s important to support small & independent publishers and authors as often as possible. Over the past two years, I have read many an indie offering that was far more enjoyable and/or original than the output coming from established publishing houses. Reviews are an indie author’s lifeblood, and I am happy to do my part in bringing recognition to folks who deserve it.
As with all my reviews, I will attempt to keep spoilers to a minimum. My reasoning for this is two-fold; first, I firmly believe that books of any and all genres are simply more enjoyable when the reader goes in blind, stripped of all preconceived notions and expectations; and second, out of respect for the author, who spent countless hours crafting their tale. Robbing stories of their intended impact, in my opinion, is a considerable disservice to the person who penned them. As such, if it’s not mentioned in the official synopsis, I will do my level best to avoid mentioning it here.
Let’s get the technical aspects out of the way first; Marionette is an erotic supernatural historical thriller (whew…taking a breath) featuring two POV characters, told in third-person past tense, and clocking in around 27,000 words.
Now, we all know that we aren’t supposed to judge a book by its cover…but we are all guilty of doing just that. And, if I am judging Marionette by its artwork (in violation of all known literary laws)…then I am judging it quite worthy indeed! Daniella Batsheva’s artwork is simply gorgeous…full stop. There’s an erotic tarot feel to it that I think fits the subject matter perfectly. No digital manipulation; no photo-realism; just sexy art atop a sexy book
As for the content underneath said cover, one thing that cannot be understated is Antonia Rachel Ward’s prowess at crafting a compelling storyline. She has a clear and concise narrative voice, with flowing prose and vivid descriptors that never quite devolve into the dreaded purple realm. She manages to evoke the feeling of the time period without making readers run for the thesaurus. No small feat, that.
Sumptuous descriptions abound, but word repetition is nonexistent, which helps each location, encounter, and event feel unique. Naturally, this is easier to pull off with a smaller work like this, but it’s still worth noting. In a market where many indie authors revert to the same words ad nauseum, it’s refreshing to read something so consistently “new” from start to finish.
Of course, given Antonia’s pedigree as an editor, none of this should be surprising.
There are two main characters in Marionette; French country girl turned exotic dancer Cecile Dulac and George Dashwood, a young Englishman travelling to Paris for a working holiday. Cecile is definitely the more (ahem) fleshed out of the two. In fact, though I understand their inclusion, George’s chapters are very nearly superfluous. This is Cecile’s story through and through, and she’s an interesting enough character, though the novella’s length prevents us from ever getting overly familiar with her.
It’s the same for the supporting characters, both friend and foe alike. They add flavor to the narrative, and we get the briefest of snippets as to what makes them tick, but that’s about it. As such, Marionette is more a plot/encounter driven narrative than a character driven one.
But what fun those encounters are! The concept of ravenous spirits is nothing new, but that these ghosts hunger for the sins of the flesh instead of death & dismemberment is a welcome break from convention. To mention any more would be to delve into spoiler territory, so I’ll leave it at that.
For those who want/need to know, there is some vaguely non-consensual bumping and grinding happening in Marionette. There are trigger warnings included at the back of the book, one of which is the catch-all warning of “some sex scenes of dubious consent”, but I believe that statement needs to be a little stronger. While the characters do consent to the initial encounters, things escalate in such a way that they cross over into decidedly non-consensual territory. Or, maybe more accurately, unanticipated and never initially specified territory. Considering that this is a work of quasi-erotic fiction, I had no problem with these scenes. But for those who are sensitive to the subject matter, reader discretion is advised.
Maybe it’s because I’m not quite the target demographic, but I found Marionette to be both refreshing and rewarding. True, it doesn’t delve into either the horror or the erotica themes as deeply as it could, but then I believe that was by design. This is, in my estimation, a slightly dark and twisted little riff on the classic fairytales, one that captures the feel while straying into naughtier territory.
In fact, in an era where everyone wants more moRE MORE, I find it comforting that a few authors are perfectly content with a little restraint. For the hardcore smut junkies out there (judgement free zone here, there is NO shame in that game), the options are vast. For folks who want just a little bit of taboo titillation with their transcendent terror, the pickings are a fair bit slimmer. So kudos to Ms. Ward for taking the path less travelled. Imagination is a powerful thing, and I always admire when an author allows us readers to flex ours from time to time.
Nitpicks are scarce but must still be mentioned.
As commented on earlier, this is a story that plays it safe with both the naughty bits and the spooky bits. While I was fine with this, it appears that much of the interwebs are not. People either wanted more smut and less horror, more horror and less smut, or just more of everything. Given that this is a novella, there were only so many pages that could be filled, and I personally was glad that it focused more on the story than the rest. Your own mileage may vary.
Also, the central romance is also hastily assembled, feeling more tacked on than anything. It certainly does not feel earned. Now, in my admittedly limited experience, those statements seem to describe about 90% of fictional romances out there, both in literature and on celluloid. But it still bears a mention. I get that Marionette takes place in an era when gentlemen were supposed to protect their ladies, but George goes from zero to sixty in that department in no time flat. It’s a tough pill to swallow.
Lastly, the entire affair wraps up just a tad too quickly. I’m all about a book not overstaying its welcome, but I think Marionette could have benefitted from just a few more pages at the end.
Is it a short tale? Undeniably yes. And though I can see Marionette being expanded with relative ease (and I sincerely hope that Antonia does just that), I’m not going to ding the book for being petite. Especially since I was aware of that fact going in. Yes, I like big books and I cannot lie…but I am fond of little books just as much. Each has their place and purpose.
If R rated supernatural adventures are more your speed, or you just need a break from the XXX creature content, I recommend checking out Marionette. It was an enjoyable diversion to be sure!