Scottish author Alan Campbell - best known for his "involvement" in designing the popular game Grand Theft Auto - spent ten years, on and off, working on his debut novel Scar Night, the first book in the Deepgate Codex. For fans of "steampunk" fantasy writer China Mieville (Perdido Street Station, The Scar, Iron Council), Scar Night is a solid, original addition to the subgenre. The city of Deepgate hangs suspended by chains above the Abyss, its foundations built by Callis, the angel Herald of the god Ulcis who was cast out of heaven by God (his mother Ayen), who sealed it against him, and the Ninety-Nine, his angel companions. Deepgate is a creaking city of iron and steel and brick, of grime and mould and ash. The city is more-or-less ruled by the Church, and has nearly succeeded in squashing the heathen races who live in the desert lands around the Abyss. But there are only two angels left: an untested boy, Dill, the last of his line, forbidden even to fly; and a half-mad woman three thousand years old called Carnival who drinks the souls of the citizens of Deepgate every Scar Night (full moon).Someone else is murdering citizens now, though. Someone else is draining the bodies dry of blood, so that they cannot be blessed by the church and cast into the Abyss to live in the city of Deep with their God, Ulcis. Carnival is suspected by most who know about it, but Presbyter Sypes, the old man who runs the Church, knows the truth.The mystery of who is stealing souls is revealed about a third of the way through, but it's not the crux of the story. It's not a mystery novel, after all, and the truth of what lies at the bottom of the Abyss is what really drove me on to finish the book. There are elements here that remind me of Mervin Peake's Gormenghast, spliced with His Dark Materials blimps and Perdido Street Station thaumaturgy. The hideous god Ulcis, consuming the flesh of the corpses thrown into the Abyss, reminded me strongly of the lard-like cannibal in Ian M. Banks' Consider Phlebus. I liked the less-than-angelic angels, surviving off the souls of mortals, and I loved the strength and fighting spirit of Carnival and Rachael, an untempered Spine assassin (a group of emotionless killers who hunt Carnival through the millennia - unsuccessfully). I thought at first Dill was a little boy - from the initial description of him and a reference to 6 years being "almost half his age" made me think he was about 12. But he's actually 16. He has promise, though. I was pleased that Adjunct Fogwill Crumb was not a typically horrid administrator; despite his perfumes and silks he was not petty in the slightest. The poisoner Devon's motives were understandable. None of this I had a problem with.My main complaint, and the reason why it took me a surprisingly long time to read this book, is with the descriptions of Deepgate. I just can't picture it. I don't get the mechanics. The foundation chains hang vertically, but are secured to the lip of the Abyss. Why do they not then just hang down the sides of the abyss, how do the hang down the middle of it? Millions of smaller chains create a kind of net between them all. But I just can't see it. How are stone and brick and tin houses, some of them huge like the Church's temple, held up? How are cobbled streets kept together? Gardens and trees and fountains - and layers? The city is in layers, is it not? I'm sure it was described thus, but how do you get from one level to another? Is it above ground level or beneath the rim? How deep does it go, how wide? Are there roads leading onto solid ground? Even when sunlight is included in the descriptions, all I see is darkness. And when I can't satisfactorily picture the landscape a fantasy is set in, I struggle with the story because it has no solid backdrop against which to play out. It's like there are details missing that would have given me the key I needed to visualise it properly - details perhaps lost between drafts. Very frustrating.The writing could have done with some tighter editing, especially on comma placement, which too often threw me off. (I thought I had an example of this but now I can't find it, sorry.) But there's a lot of potential here, with Campbell still finding his feet a bit, and I do want to read the following books.
The one thing that can be said for Scar Night: it does not retread paths already turned into six-lane super-highways. The Tower of Shadows, for instance (a worse book, and one I read right after this one) takes place in Fantasy Kingdom 17, and features a pirate cove, an enchanted port city, and a genuine, do-gooding knight, for God's sake. Where does Scar Night take place?On top of a bottomless chasm, in a city which dangles down on a series of thick iron chains. Which is a dark, kinda cool image. The rationale for this: the god of Chains, Ulcis, dwells at the bottom of the abyss, and is recruiting the souls of the dead (the dead are lowered to the bottom) in order to raise an army that will wrest open the gates of Heaven which have been barred to mortal souls.Oddly, when I was first writing reviews of this and Tower of Shadows, I didn't realized that both authors rewrote Paradise Lost. Of course, we all know there is only one true Fantasy rewrite of Paradise Lost, and neither of these bozos are Phillip Pullman.Given how many people fall to their deaths over the course of the novel, you'd think they'd just build on the sides of the chasm. But that's a minor quibble, I suppose.The real, central flaw of Scar Night is this: no one, and I mean no one, ever seems genuinely happy with their lives. I don't mean that the book itself is depressing: I've read books that made me weep (March, To Kill a Mockingbird, Bridge to Terabithia), and Scar Night doesn't come close. But a book, especially a dark book, needs the light, to establish what is at stake, or what can be lost. But when everyone in the city of Deepgate, and all the characters in the novel, seem utterly, pathologically joyless, it leaves me wondering why I should care whether or not the whole thing falls into the abyss. And this is deliberate; one character keeps commenting about how everyone (besides him; he's not happy, but he's differently unhappy) is already dead on the inside; they're just waiting to stop moving so they can join the army of their god.One other thing: Alan Campbell's vies of religion is warped. Let's just ignore the idea, that is uncritically advanced, that everyone in Deepgage is only living as a prelude to the afterlife, or the nature of the gods in Scar Night, which would provide some spoilers without really advancing my argument. The book has two competing faiths. Most of the characters, again, live in Deepgate and pay homage to Ulcis, the God of Chains (the title doesn't really mean anything, as far as I can tell, beyond the fact that he had the city be built on chains). The rest worship Ayen, the Goddess of Light who (as has been discussed) closed the gates of heaven. What exactly do these two faiths do? Well, the church of Ulcis runs Deepgate, while those of Ayen are a bunch of barbarian nomads. Oh, and they go to war with each other every few decades, like Crusader clockwork; this appears to be the only thing the faiths inspire in their followers.While it might be reading too much into it to say Campbell's point seems to be that religions are power hungry memes which do nothing but cause conflict and push people apart... Hey, I'm a lit major; reading too much into things is all I'm trained to do. So: Campbell's point seems to be that religions are power hungry memes which do nothing but cause conflict and push people apart.Oh, and occasionally play a conflicting, confusing part in whether or not the world ends. Y'know. For those who care.I mean, I'm an semi-athiest who read The God Delusion and who frequents Free Thought Blogs, and i thought he was taking it more than slightly too far.Final note: this is a book where there is apparently a detailed understanding of genetics and chemistry, to the point that at the climax, we see a giant fleet of war-zepplins bombing the hell out of some sort of super-tank.In this case: why, why, why, is the most advanced personal we see a crossbow? What the hell kind of tech-tree puts incendiary bombs before muskets?
Do You like book Scar Night (2006)?
I've read this book twice. Unlike a couple of other reviewers, I found enough to interest me that I bought the rest of the series. Scar Night has a lot of possibility. Campbell has built an intriguing, steampunk-ish, 'is it F or SF?' world around the city of Deepgate, suspended above a truly deep and dark abyss. He's put interesting people in the world, and the story itself was strong enough to leave me wanting answers to some of the mysteries.Unfortunately, Campbell also skimps on some of the scene setting. Even after the second read-through, I'm still not entirely clear on how the city is suspended. Campbell spends quite a lot of time talking about chains, ropes, and rings, but it's only very late in the book that we get much in the way of helpful description. So I spent much of the first reading trying to figure out what was where, what all the chains connected to, and why. (view spoiler)[[not really a spoiler, but ...] As far as I could tell, there are 99 chains made out of a meteorite alloy, and hooked at one end to various points along the sides of the chasm (which may be circular and really more of a pit). At the other end, the 'foundation' chains are supporting one or more huge rings of the same metal. These rings form the support for the Deepgate cathedral. The chains are cross-linked, and these links support the various neighbourhoods of the city. (hide spoiler)]
—Metaphorosis
In a city suspended over the void by chains of steel, angels hunt in the night…The decaying city of Deepgate hangs suspended over the abyss by a mass of chains. It is ruled by a theocracy supported by the mythology of a god who will eventually return with a host of dead souls to kill his brother and save the world. The reality is somewhat darker, and this gritty fantasy is as blood-soaked as it is compelling.The story starts as a dark mystery, attempting to find a soul thief in the city who murders innocents and bleeds them dry. Every eye is aimed at a mad angel named Carnival who stalks the city streets once a month for a victim to sustain herself, but the murders just don’t fit her pattern.I’ve read – or attempted to read – this book twice. Both times, I’ve ended up quitting halfway through. I really loved the worldbuilding – this world is easily one of the most unique I’ve ever experienced, but also deeply flawed. The one thing I couldn’t get past in this book was, “Why?” Why on earth did these guys suspend their city over a giant pit? Where do the chains connect to? Why not build on the edge and just kick the dead over? I just kept yearning for an explanation, any explanation at all, no matter what it was, and it was a need that was never fulfilled. I loved some of the characters – Dill, the innocent, hapless angel who has been brought up by the church to be an armed defender of the church but who spends most of his time pretending to be his ancestor, an angel who saved the world. I loved the story (and the backstory) of Deepgate’s resident poisoner. I appreciated the conflicted character of the head of the church, who is protecting a secret that would throw the entire world into question. I really appreciated some of the elements of steampunk that were occasionally included – the zeppelins, the war with a distant enemy fought with poisons and gas, the decaying city with parts that occasionally fell into the deeps, the scroungers… And I really liked elements of the story itself – betrayal, a social mythology built on a lie, and a lie that’s about to bite back… But somehow the execution fell a little flat.If you’re up for a truly unique, gritty and bloody read, this is definitely a good book. But in a lot of ways, I think this would work better as a tv series, a movie, or a video game, instead of a novel.
—Amanda
Oftentimes when the term "fantasy" is bandied about, people conjureup immediate Tolkien-esque images: wizards, Elvish warriors, Ringsof Power, trolls, and other elements of the genre that have becomevery typical. It is because that imagery is so commonplace thatwhen someone comes along like, say, Mervyn Peake or China Mieville,and darkens the notion of fantasy with grit, gloom and intensity,readers really take notice.Alan Campbell may soon tire of comparisons to Peake and Mieville,but that doesn't mean they are not deserved. Campbell weighs in tothe fantastic, giving us the dreary and spectacular city ofDeepgate in his debut novel, SCAR NIGHT. This endeavor, upon firstinspection, could have been buried by its premise, but insteadCampbell deftly weaves a startling and mysterious story through thedark streets of an equally mysterious city and leaves readersgroaning for the sequel.Deepgate is like no other city you've visited. It hangs suspendedover a black abyss that is supposedly the realm of Ulcis, a Godknown as the Hoarder of Souls. Great chains hold the city inplace...though what they're connected to none can rightfully say.Airships bring business and travelers to and fro, though why anyonewould come here is another story. Deepgate is a wound, adilapidated and sinister city where every road is an alley andevery walk out is a potential last trip.Then there is Scar Night. The foolish fail to stay hidden behindlocked doors, for on this night, as she has for thousands andthousands of years, the angel Carnival comes to Deepgate tofeed.While this all may seem enough for a novel, there is oh so muchmore. Enter Dill, the last archon and now just old enough to beginhis duties. Rachel, an assassin who is part of a force trying tohunt down Carnival, takes Dill under her charge. She is hard, coldand demanding. And then there is Devon, the Poisoner, who has hisown devious plot to concoct a potion of immortality, which requiresthe gathering of souls.Dill may seem to be the eternal youthful hero, but he is really farmore detailed than you expect. In fact, one of the great aspects ofCampbell's writing is that each of his characters is so welldefined and so interesting that it is hard not to be drawn to them,even Carnival and Devon. Dill is likable in his naivete and hisdesire to succeed, as well as the weight of the burden of being thelast of his kind. Rachel, though rough, has a side she refuses toyield to fully, holding back a piece of herself out of fear oflosing herself forever. Campbell's most outstanding creation,however, is Carnival, the scarred angel who feeds and enjoys whatshe does but feels despair afterwards. None of these characters iscookie-cutter nor are they paper thin.A second strength of the author is his utter disregard for layingout the bare bones of his story for readers. Getting into SCARNIGHT may seem like work initially, but that is only because youare made to feel like you've just arrived. You cannot knoweverything about a place right from the outset, and Campbell makesyou work for the information. He will give you the nuggets you needas you progress, yet you will still be left with questions.What are those chains attached to?
—Steve
