Review courtesy of Dark Faerie Tales
Quick & Dirty: In theory, I should have liked everything about The Clockwork Dagger. There’s betrayal and political intrigue, romance and adventure. The unfortunate reality is that it felt flat. Cato’s descriptive writing made it incredibly easy to taste the dust of the war-torn world and feel the shadow from a dirigible floating overhead, yet her characters were bland and inconsistent. The story takes place in a creative and comprehensive Steampunk world but the reliance on the mystical Lady for everything that happens is tiring. Cato has potential but I’ll pass.
Opening Sentence: Octavia Leander’s journey to her new source of employment was to be guided by three essential rules: that she hide her occupation, lest others take advantage; that she be frugal with her coin and avoid any indulgences that come with newfound independence; and that she shun the presence of men, as nothing useful or proper could possibly happen in their company.
The Review:
Reading a book is a lot like meeting someone new. Sometimes you hit it off right away, instantly enjoying each other’s company and effortlessly forming a tight bond. Other times, that connection takes a while but it does eventually form after you’ve spent some time getting to know each other. Then there are the “it’s not you, it’s me” times when things simply don’t click. Something is missing and no amount of time or effort is going to change the fact. The Clockwork Dagger and I fall into the third category.
Octavia Leander is probably one of the most annoyingly oblivious characters I’ve come across. Despite being more powerful than THE Miss Percival of the renowned Miss Percival’s medician academy, Octavia refuses to see she has an extraordinary connection with the mystical force known as the Lady. She thinks her ability to hear the music of any living being’s body without the typical medician tools is just a fluke. Her uncanny success rate is due to luck, and definitely not mysteriously connected to the physical urge to make a blood donation to the Lady after a particularly powerful healing spell.
Which is why she’s so shocked when she learns Miss Percival is outsourcing her to a small village between the warring nations of Caskentia and Dallows. With no friends, little money and a dangerously depleted supply of healing herbs, Octavia boards the older and slightly dingy dirigible named the Argus. Octavia isn’t happy about the mode of transportation given her parents were incinerated when one crashed on her village but what can she do? Miss Percival has made it clear the academy needs the money and Octavia is the only one she can send.
After playing a role in a twisted display of the town’s poverty, Octavia finds herself in danger of missing her ride. The first of many coincidences occurs when a kind gentleman by the name of Alonzo Garret steps in to escort her to the Argus – where he works as a crewmember. Octavia is instantly attracted to Alonzo until she learns he’s the son of the man who caused the dirigible to crash into her village. She relives the agony of being the only survivor of the tragic accident. Alonzo’s dad was flying a small plane, defending Caskentia’s borders against an air attack by a Darrows’ airship when one of his shots caused the thing to explode (remember photos of the Hindenburg?). The dirigible crashes and takes down his plane, killing himself and everyone on the ground except Octavia.
Only the introduction of Mr. Drury makes Octavia reconsider her stance on Alonzo. Drury, the slimy salesman of a product called Royal-Tea is obsessed with getting Octavia to drink his wares. He corners her and her modern-day woman roars, with only Alonzo’s sudden appearance saving Mr. Drury from a crotch kick and face full of pepper spray. Alonzo escorts Octavia to her room, where they meet Mrs. Viola Stout, Octavia’s much older and heftier roommate. Mrs. Stout develops a motherly attentiveness in keeping Octavia’s modesty in tact after noting how handsome Alonzo appears and firmly implants herself in Octavia’s life for the remainder of the flight. But, not long after they take off, Octavia discovers a death threat in their shared room but brushes it off. No one can know she’s a medician and alerting Alonzo to the death threat will only raise questions she can’t answer. She doesn’t deem it worthy to warn her roommate that someone with ill intent has already entered their room. Instead, Octavia conveniently forgets she offered to trade bunks with Mrs. Stout until she returns after dinner to a blood bath.
As they continue on the trip, it becomes clear Octavia’s connection to the Lady has drawn unwanted interest. Caskentia, Octavia’s own country, has sent its deadly assassins known as the Clockwork Daggers to determine the threat she presents – and to keep her out of the hands of the Darrow’s Wasters by any means necessary. Octavia is shocked to learn that her connection with the Lady and power it brings is so coveted by both sides – and yet she still doesn’t acknowledge the special connection. To make things more convoluted, the lost Caskentian princess pops up with some hefty post-traumatic stress disorder symptoms and Octavia is forced to make a hefty decision that will affect everyone’s lives.
You know how actors in bad B movies are more caricatures than characters? That’s what this felt like. Every action was exaggerated, every nuance comical in its portrayal – from Octavia’s innocence turned badass heroine to Mrs. Stout’s name and physical description. Take the situation with Alonzo. Even though she just met the guy, she admonishes herself for thinking him kind because she can’t possibly ever be interested in a man who’s remotely associated with her parent’s death. If you’re like me, your first thought after reading that is “Huh?” Besides the whole insta-love thing, this perplexing attempt to create friction between love interests approximately two chapters into the story was the timer bell on our speed date. Octavia is going to hate on the man who lost his father in the same horrendous accident that took her parents? Sure, technically Alonzo’s father caused the airship’s fiery crash and Octavia could be reacting in the irrational way survivors of horrendous things do. Yet her reaction doesn’t make sense as the character she’s portrayed to this point. It’s been established that she’s never been close to anyone because of her abilities and deeply desires a connection with another person. Why then would she not befriend a man who shares such a tragic history?
There are numerous instances of this awkward character dichotomy, making it impossible for me to connect with Octavia specifically and others characters generally. The second glaring instance is when Octavia meets Mr. Drury. Then again, later, when a number of gremlins are slaughtered and Octavia bounces a wooden tray off people’s heads to save the one she rescues and names Leaf. These reactions aren’t consistent with the virginal, modest Victorian society Cato built and felt like nails down a chalkboard as I was reading.
My annoyance with character discrepancy was exacerbated because of the narration. If you’re going to tell ninety-nine percent of a story in third person, don’t switch to first when you want the reader to hear specific character thoughts. Either denote you are switching by using italics (Why does this bother me so?) or include “What the heck, Kelly thought.” At the very least, remain consistent. Randomly bouncing between the two disrupted the flow and added to my frustration with the story. The notable scene below is a perfect example of this. It’s possible that this was only a result of a formatting issue since this was an ARC but it still greatly affected my enjoyment.
Finally, story’s buildup wasn’t a cohesive blend. A missing Princess thought dead turns up but doesn’t seem to play a larger role in the overarching story plot. Then everything about the blasted Lady, who turned out to be embodied in a tree. I lost count of how many times Octavia asked for her help (it happens every chapter) and wanted to yell “WE GOT IT! Octavia is a devoted servant of the freaking Lady and they have an insane bond!” And, ugh, the gremlin named Leaf. If you’re like me, you won’t find humor in the cutesy little green version of Bubo (the golden owl in the Clash of the Titans).
Cato’s vivid descriptive writing style was perfect for the multi-layered world she created for The Clockwork Dagger, but ultimately couldn’t make up for its lackluster characters. I’m grateful for the chance to review The Clockwork Dagger but will think twice before picking up another book by Cato since we seem to want different things in our fiction.
Notable Scene:
Her fingers trembled as she packed her jars. The pampria was half full, enough for two or three trauma cases as bad as Mrs. Stout – certainly not adequate to start her practice. With the Lady’s herbs, I’ll be almost useless in Delford. Doctoring can only do so much for poison cases as bad as theirs. It would take months to grow pampria until it’s ripe enough to harvest. There may be an apothecary in Leffen, but it would be far too overpriced, and I barely have the funds for my journey.
She brushed her fingers against Mrs. Stout’s arm, now warm to the touch. She was grateful to be able to save her friend, but the consequences were dire.
“You are a medician,” Mr. Garret said in a gentle tone, probing.
“Yes.” She didn’t look at him. “I was trained at Miss Percival’s academy.”
“I know of it. One of the most reputed medician schools in the kingdom. Your skill – ‘tis as though your Lady’s hand rest directly on you. I had the brief acquaintance of a medician. He was not as attuned.”
“Ah. When you lost your leg.”
Mr. Garret sucks in a breath. “How…”
“I know these things.”
“As you knew of her injury before opening the door. You are unusually attuned.”
“So I’ve been told.” Again, and again, and again.
FTC Advisory: HarperVoyager/HarperCollins provided me with a copy of The Clockwork Dagger. No goody bags, sponsorships, “material connections,” or bribes were exchanged for my review.