The VirtuSarah Monette Labyrinthine. Sorry, I just had to. As a single word to describe this book, it’s irresistible and perhaps inevitable. And not in terms of the obscure thaumaturgical theory and the calendar system, although that’s intricate in itself, but in terms of Felix and Mildmay, and this endless, twisted, complex little dance they do. They’re hopelessly interlocked to each other by love and blood and history, and to link it to the baseline metaphor, it’s like they’re both running around the same labyrinth trying to get out but neither of them willing to go through the heart. Backing […]