The Shipbuilder of Bellfairie by M. Rickert

My rating: 3 of 5 stars


If I could, I would give this book 3 and a half stars. I toyed with giving it 4, but because the publisher, Undertow, advertises "unique genre fiction of exceptional literary merit," I feel like I have to hold them to a higher standard--one the editors didn't live up to. Here are some tips to make it easier for the next reader: "the Sheriff" and "Healy" are the same person. "The Old Man" and "Thayer" are another same person. It took me a bit to figure that out, so there you go. It's mentioned quite late that Quark wears a hat. It's mentioned even later that it's a stovepipe hat. A main character who wears a stovepipe hat? That's something I would've liked to know right away. (When it comes to the randomly placed commas, you're on your own. Again, I blame the editors. That's what editors paid for, after all. They're also paid to know the difference between lie and lay, especially when it comes to an impeccably spoken man lie Quark, so that was another half a star off.) Is the cover pretty? Oh so pretty! But it's totally wrong for this book. The cover said to me, "Long-haired adventurer in boots and a cloak is going to take you on a magical journey." That ain't happening. What happens is a lot more unexpected, and perhaps even more interesting, but instead of going on a journey, I felt like I was walking in circles. There is some really lovely writing and really lovely imagery here, but I felt that the "literary merit" was distancing. I wanted the story to tick along, I wanted to really get under Quark's skin, and that didn't happen, though the author did do a good job of Quark's relentless, unwitting descent into disaster. This is the second Rickert book I've read. The first was her recent Lucky Girl, published by Tor, which I enjoyed very much, and I'm looking forward to reading her short stories. The town of Bellfairie had some really intriguing details: the sour smell of the sea, the masked Christmas giftgiver, the ship-related superstitions, the bird man statue in the middle of town. A longer book might have given me more of what I wanted, which was for Bellfairie to be fully fleshed out like Phil Rickman's Ledwardine. (Perhaps Undertow, like many independent presses, has a strict max word count?) I found myself comparing Bellfairie to Phil Rickman's early horror novels, too. Rickert does creepy as well as Rickman, but this story wasn't as firmly grounded. I wanted it to be either a horror/fantasy novel with a murder mystery wrapped inside it, or a murder mystery with speculative elements that couldn't be quite explained. But then, I'm not sure Rickert intends the reader to know "who did it." It is definitely "unique genre fiction" as Undertow promises; it was just too many genres for me and trying a little TOO hard to be literary. Favorite character: the Old Man. Favorite scene: the Old Man's last appearance, which is Rickert at her creepiest creepy best.



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The Shipbuilder of Bellfairie