The ReReadables: Nevernight

Welcome to The ReReadables! It's an occasional series where I'll talk about books I keep coming back to.

Anyone who reads has books that they have read multiple times, but they keep coming back to, like visiting an old friend. I certainly have these. And each time I read them, I find something new to enjoy.

I think having books that you return to over and over is a wonderful thing. And so, in this new series, I want to celebrate them. I'll do one every few weeks or so, and I'd love to hear from you if you have a book that you consider eminently rereadable, too.

This week, I'm looking at Nevernight, the astounding and astoundingly brutal 2016 fantasy novel by Jay Kristoff...

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If you want conclusive proof of how absurd most book awards are, I invite you to consider Nevernight.

The book is the first in Australian author Jay Kristoff’s The Nevernight Chronicle. It tells the tale of Mia Corvere, a teenager in an alternate-history Roman Empire—one that happens to be filled with magic and gods. Where there are three suns, and night comes only once every three years...

Mia’s parents are murdered in a failed coup attempt, and she swears vengeance. That vengeance leads her to the Red Church, a school of assassins, where she slowly begins to learn the skills necessary to take down Consul Julius Scaeva, the tyrant who killed her parents and almost killed her.

Oh! And she has a demon attached to her, a black cat called Mr Kindly who drinks her fear and lets her jump between shadows. Nevernight is Mia's origin story, the tale of a girl who, as Kristoff puts it, is to murder what maestros are to music...

“The books we love, they love us back. And just as we mark our places in the pages, those pages leave their marks on us. I can see it in you, sure as I see it in me. You're a daughter of the words. A girl with a story to tell.”

Nevernight is utterly mad. It also happens to be really, really, really freaking good, for reasons I will get to shortly. And I am not the only one who thinks so: the book sold in its thousands, spent several weeks on the New York Times bestseller list, got translated into every language under the sun, and spawned two sequels.

There’s been no film or TV show yet, but a group of devoted fans made a rather good web series of the first few chapters. Here's the first part, should you care to see what a bunch of motivated readers can do...

And since we're on the subject of devoted fans: it's worth pointing out that Jay Kristoff’s readers are among the most devoted of any author alive. He is absolutely drowning in fan art, tattoos, cosplay of his characters. His Instagram is awash with them, so many he can barely keep up. When he goes on tour, the lines stretch around the block.

“I appear to have misplaced the fucks I give for what you think.”

But here is the point that I have, by degrees, been getting to. If you consult the list of nominees and winners in the big science fiction and fantasy award shows—the Clarke Awards, the Hugos, the Nebulas—Jay Kristoff does not exist. He has never been nominated. The people in charge of these shows have by and large turned their noses up at him, despite the fact that he writes books that are by some margin significantly better than the majority of works that appear on their slates. I mean that. I will put Nevernight up against nominee, and 90% of the time, Nevernight will win.

Because it is brilliant. I mean that word with a rare degree of precision. This is a book that dazzles. Every time you think you’ve got its measure, it yanks you out of your comfort zone. Mia Corvere is a gem: a sharp, sweary, world-weary sixteen year old personified by her unbelievable tenacity and cunning, who may or may not be the tool of an evil god and isn't quite sure what to do about it. Yet.

I won’t waste time dissecting the supporting cast, but each of them—from Mia’s fellow students to the dour, terrifying Red Church tutors—are exceptional.

“Cock is just another word for 'fool.' But you call someone a cunt, well..." The girl smiled. "You're implying a sense of malice there. An intent. Malevolent and self-aware. Don't think I name Consul Scaeva a cunt to gift him insult. Cunts have brains...Cunts have teeth. Someone calls you a cunt, you take it as a compliment. As a sign that folks believe you're not to be lightly fucked with.”

The book is written with such extraordinary confidence, such a wicked delight, that you can't help but be charmed by it. Example: the footnotes.

(Yes, this book has footnotes.)

See, Kristoff came to an interesting conclusion about world building. It takes time, and most authors have to bend themselves backwards to incorporate it into the text itself. Why not offshore it to footnotes, where it can be as detailed and lengthy as you like…only make it funny?

It sounds like such a simple thing, but the footnotes are hysterical. They build the world, and make you laugh doing it. I haven’t seen this approach before or since, but it’s a remarkable trick, making you feel smart and rewarded for taking time to read them.

‘Smart’ is actually a key word here. For all the action, for all the assassin intrigue, for all the huge fantasy world building, this is a story with a real depth. Kristoff refuses to coddle his readers, asking big questions about religion, faith, family, and morality. He has enough confidence to leave these questions unanswered, and to steer clear of the easy solutions. I've read this book at least four times, and I’m still uncovering new meaning and new angles.

It endures, because there is nothing quite like it. You will not find another fantasy novel that gives as few fucks as this one, and it's all the better for it.

There are parts of it that don’t quite work. For one, it takes an age to get going. You get the sense that Kristoff is trying for a vibe with the first few chapters, rather than sinking his teeth in. Perseverance pays off, but when I reread this book, I often find myself skipping the beginning.

And by the way: underage sex. Not dramatically so—the participants are sixteen—but underage nonetheless. I am by no means about to imply that teenagers do not have sex, and I’m certainly no prude. I love a good bit of smut, and Kristoff writes some genuinely incredible examples. World class.

I don’t think any topics are off limits in books. But it’s still just a little weird to have a grown ass man writing about a sixteen year old sucking cock. It just is. Although in his defence, it would be weird for the teenagers in this book to not have sex. You understand that as soon as you encounter them. They have all been forced to grow up really fucking fast.

Reading it back? It just jars a little. That's all I'm saying.

The slight weirdness doesn’t stop this book being one of the best things I have ever read. Not just one of the best fantasy novels; one of the best things period. Amazingly, book 2 is even better, and book 3…

Let’s just say that in book 3, Kristoff makes one of the ballsiest, most insane meta-narrative decisions I’ve ever come across. I don’t want to spoil it. I laughed out loud when I saw it.

You have to read Nevernight. There’s nothing else like it. And while literary award shows aren’t the be-all-and-end-all of good books, it is a travesty that not a single one of them has so much as looked in this book’s direction.

“You'll be a rumor. A whisper. The thought that wakes the bastards of this world sweating in the nevernight. The last thing you will ever be, girl, is someone's hero.”

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