My first experience with Pullman was some years ago, in my attempt to read His Dark Materials series, which I gave up somewhere in the first hundred pages. Right now, I would be able to neither recall what those pages contained, except for a few very vague points, nor why I stopped reading. Back then, it just failed to grip me, I guess. So I was understandably wary about the Sally Lockhart series that my friend Shanra presented me with, despite her noting that this series is quite different. I figured that the Read-A-Thon was the perfect time to try out the first book of the series, The Ruby in the Smoke, and I was delighted to find it the most engaging book among the ones I’ve picked for the event, and the first one I finished after the readathon conclusion.
The events are set in Victorian London, where we follow the series’ title character, Sally Lockhart as she tries to find out more of the mysterious circumstances of her father’s death and, as is often the case when one tries to uncover mysteries, finds more than she had bargained for.
In general, I am not a big fan of YA novels, which The Ruby In The Smoke can definitely be classified as, but I enjoyed both the writing and the characters. If the writing is in any way geared towards a young adult audience, then I would maintain that audience being one of clever young adults, and the style, therefore, being as easily enjoyable by a mature reader, and not one the reader may easily ‘grow out’ of. Here and there, a turn of a phrase is guaranteed to make you chuckle. The third-person point-of-view flits between almost-omniscient and limited, creating a distinct narrator separate from the events of the story, but that narrator is a good story-teller, masterfully withholding pieces of information to be revealed at crucial moments, and engaging the reader rather than spoiling anything. In fact, narration-wise, I only have one grievance, and that lies in the very first two paragraphs of the book:
On a cold, fretful afternoon in early October, 1872, a hansom cab drew up outside the offices of Lockhart and Selby, Shipping Agents in the financial heart of London, and a young girl got out and paid the driver.
She was a person of sixteen or so -alone, and uncommonly pretty. She was slender and pale, and dressed in mourning, with a black bonnet under which she tucked back a straying twist of blonde hair that the wind had teased loose. She had unusually dark brown eyes for one so fair. Her name was Sally Lockhart; and within fifteen minutes, she was going to kill a man.
I have three reasons to dislike this section – really, just the last sentence of it. First of all, to my mind, this is so very, very obviously a sell, an extremely journalistic lead, and my impression is further reinforced by the fact that this very extract is presented on Pullman’s website as a sneak peek into the book. Secondly, it painfully lack the subtlety of the rest of the narration, where the narrator skips over events to reveal them later rather than bluntly smacks the reader with the fact that Here (Will) Be Drama. And thirdly, this is actually a lie, because the paragraph promises us a much more sinister protagonist than Sally really is (the bane of journalism strikes again, I guess).
Speaking of the protagonist and moving back to the positive aspects of the book. I found Sally a very well-written character, all the more so because she could’ve so easily turned into a Mary Sue. Based on the quoted paragraphs above, we’ve already established her being pretty. Soon enough, we would find out that she knows how to handle a gun, has a keen business sense, can be brave and assertive… Do you see the danger already? We are provided with good a explanation for her skills and traits, which mainly have to do with the way her father, a military man and a widower, has raised her. Still, it would’ve been so easy for Sally to become little Miss Perfect, with her looks, smarts and skills. And yet, she’s not. She can be scared, she can be sad, she can be vulnerable, she can ask people for help if she feels she can’t manage on her own, and then put her foot in her mouth as she tries to offer them money as thanks, and she can be so beautifully awkward when realising she may have feelings for a certain young man.
Characterisation-wise, the deal is sealed for me when opium comes into picture. No, Sally isn’t an opium smoker, heavens forbid. Yet when she’s exposed to the fumes when she and her friend rescue someone from an opium den, she experiences a flashback to her early childhood, and is told by the den owner that, based on her reaction to the smoke, she has indeed been exposed to opium before, likely on the same night that comes back to her in the flashback, something she refers to as ‘the Nightmare’. Later on, Sally decides that the only way for her to relive the Nightmare in full and possibly remember what it holds is to expose herself to the smoke again, which she does. I don’t possess enough medical knowledge to back the credibility of Sally’s theory, yet I can’t help but applaud the courage in the writing of Sally’s decision. Sally is the kind of protagonist that can be looked upon as a good example, and it would’ve been so easy to keep her imperfect yet untarnished. However, what we see is a still-technically-Victorian girl from a good family, resorting to actions that are socially frowned upon, in order to further her investigation. Would I have made the same choice? I don’t know. Do I commend Sally for it? I’m not sure. But I definitely commend the writer for Sally’s choice, an imperfect choice of an imperfect human.
I will wrap up now with reiterating that I found The Ruby in the Smoke a great read, and say that I’m looking forward to the rest of the Sally Lockhart series (which includes three more books). I recommend this book to anyone who feels like some Victorian mystery and social intrigue. Sally’s no Sherlock, and her adversary isn’t Professor Moriarty, but the plot has all the necessary romanticism of a Victorian crime mystery – a family tragedy, a dark story rooted in the East Indies, and, of course, a hunt for a cursed treasure, all in the middle of a beautifully-written nineteenth-century London.
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