We live our lives between set boundaries, some established by the society in which we live, but most set by ourselves, caught between fear and faith, strength and comfort. When we are overwhelmed by events larger than our own lives, we either retreat to the safety of our own self-imposed limitations or rise above our perceived weaknesses, changing not only our fates but perhaps the destinies of everyone around us, and, in doing so, become someone stronger than we ever thought possible. Such is the situation faced by Taya, an icarus (winged flying messenger) in the city-state of Ondinium when she responds to a disaster. In an act of selfless (and uncalculating) heroism, she saves two of the city-state's ruling class, and thus becomes embroiled in the politics and intrigue above which she has always flown.
This book is well entrenched in the steampunk genre because it has all the accouterments fans will look for--steam technology, clockwork gears, goggles, imitatable fashions, and suitable homages and references to Victorian mores and customs. However, this book also poses something of a quandary to those "genre zombies" whom are the bread and butter of publishers and marketing shills. The people who place books on bookstore shelves or (increasingly) assign market-tags to e-books, know that readers have certain expectations when they pick up a book marked "romance" or "mystery" or "western," in that there had better be purposeful snogging, a whodunit to solve, or a horse and his cowboy. Likewise, when readers pick up a "steampunk" book they expect 1)Science fiction 2)Alternate history and 3)goggles. Well, at least they get the goggles. And, as a bonus, people flying about like birds with lighter-than-air metal, which must count for something.
Most writers wading (or plunging) into the steampunk universe, will either set the story in a reimagined Victorian or Edwardian era, or create a world that stems from changes made in the timeline during one of those periods, and that's mostly true whether the writer is writing science fiction or fantasy. Author (and academician) Dru Pagliassotti, however, gives us all the trappings of steampunk that fans demand. but no aspect of the real world which the reader can grasp and hold on to, like a safety strap in a careening trolley. In denying readers that "life line" she forces her readers to face similar choices as she does her main character--do I close the book and retreat to something more familiar, more traditional and less unexpected, or do I plunge into uncharted waters and plumb uncharted depths? The luck and the brave will take the plunge.
While adhering to the accepted traditions of steampunk, the author has engaged in heavy-duty world building and societal engineering. In creating the city-state of Ondinium, she draws upon classical themes and motifs from the Celts, Romans, Greeks, Hindus, Chinese and Victorians, but she does so in such inventive and intriguing ways that the reader will not always recognize the derivative culture right away. Additionally, she uses linguistics to draw the reader into the culture. Most of what you derive from terms and dialogue must be done through context. You're going to have to be at least as clever as the characters to keep up.
The author has invested as much effort in creating the characters in her novel as she has in the world in which they live. The result of that effort is the emergence of characters who seem more real than contrived. They have their strengths and weaknesses, but, more importantly, they are true to their own natures and true to the venue in which they live. In talking to others about this book, I gathered that many people were dismayed by too much (or too little) romance, by a heroine a bit out of step with demanded stereotypes, by heroes and villains who were too opaque. However, just as the venue of the novel must be accepted as it is presented, beholding to no Earthly history, so, too, must the characters be accepted for who they are as they explore the limitations of what they have always believed, determine the validity of what they think they have always wanted, and become much more (or less) than they thought they were.
While the author demonstrates a deft hand at world building and characterization, she also brings to the book a very strong narrative voice. From the very beginning, we understand she has a knack for writing breathtaking action scenes, and later, in the clock repair shop of the outcast Exalted Cristof, we find that she also has a gentle side, able to evoke beauty and wonder in jeweled clockwork and flying metal birds that would not have been out of place in the court of a Byzantine emperor. Her world is full of impossibilities, but the author makes it all very real through a style that is down to earth even as it soars.
Personally, I think steampunk is much too young a genre to be weighted down by traditions, to be wrapped up in conventions and expectations, nor should it be defined by marketers and their Analytical Engines. Dru Pagliassotti has pushed against the boundaries of the genre, and I think she has succeeded marvelously. My advice: take the plunge.