Review: Demon Engine by Marten Norr

Blurb:

Sally Delavega, the best demon-binder the world has ever seen, would do anything to banish the two hundred ghosts trapped in his head—even if it means swimming up from the bottom of his tankard. When the Navy that destroyed his life comes sailing back to offer enough coin to get the job done, Sally agrees. All he has to do is help the crew of the Steadfast track down the ancient abyssal that lies sleeping at the heart of their drowned world. Why the Navy wants the demon isn’t Sally’s problem. But as they sail on, Sally begins to dredge up disturbing truths about how the world flooded and their ancient eldritch quarry that might just want to be found…

Imaginative and poignant, funny and bizarre, Demon Engine brings us a bold, queer high-seas adventure that asks how deep we might venture for what we aren’t willing to lose.

Review:

Has shit ton of things with tentacles. Go buy. Kthxbye.

Still here?

Oh well, I guess not everyone shares my unwavering enthusiasm for tentacles. Or Lovecraftian horror. But folks who have even a passing interest in that kind of dark fantasy, are likely to fall in love with this book from the very first chapter. It is just mind-numbingly brilliant.

I saw this book posted in our discord, and was immediately drawn in by the dark dystopian theme. The world we see is post-apocalyptic—ravaged by a deluge thousands of years ago. The descendants of people who have survived, mostly live in seasteads, naval ships or the few remaining islands. As you might expect, the sea is central to their lives. And demons.

‘Remember. The ocean knows what you are’

I intend to rave a lot more about Marten’s fascinating world building, but just in case you are wondering if there is anything else that’s great—the answer is yes—quite a bit. The characters are vivid, complex and interesting. There is ample witticism woven into the narrative to keep you hooked throughout, and the plot moves really fast. Despite the immense multitude of fantastical innovations we keep coming across, it never feels even remotely overwhelming.

‘To do such a thing to one so like you—who has touched heaven and returned howling? You and I truly are kin.’

Now that those people-ey things are out of the way, let's get back to the juicy bits. The demons. Or rather, the abyssals—beings from a different plane of existence, whom “bathymetrists” can summon and bind to do their bidding. This is not an obscure skill limited to occult practitioners hiding in shadows. Binding of abyssals is mainstream and prevalent. 

Technology as we know, has largely been forgotten, and the most interesting accomplishments of humanity are now powered by demon engines. Lightbulbs, ship engines, body parts… the list goes on. Early into the story, we see Mary summon the tongue of a massive abyssal to halt Sally’s escape, and similarly hilarious applications of bathymetry continue to pour in.

‘The Siren’s actions were beholden to whims human minds hadn’t evolved to comprehend.’

As we can assume, the demons are not always happy to do our bidding, and the relationship between their world and ours is quite involved. I loved the myriad complexities around the specificity-related aspects of summoning and negotiating with abyssals.

‘The very essence of my being is born of multiplicity.’

The story revolves around Sally and Mary. Sally is our Constantine-esque gifted but demented reluctant hero. And Golden Mary is equally talented, but uptight and disciplined. The two are almost polar opposites personality wise, but are brought closer by threads of fate. Their platonic banters were so much fun.

Besides them, we also have their mentor—Papa Girlie—struggling with a dark complicated past. And Dru—a prodigal child whose talents go far beyond anyone’s understanding. All of them were beautifully depicted, larger than life but yet highly relatable.

‘Look at you, grown fat and complacent at the feet of your Monarch, gettin’ pats on the head for bein’ a good boy. Look at me, starvin’ at the edge of the world.’

When I say Sally is demented, I mean it quite literally. The souls of the dead—remora—flock to him in the hundreds. And getting rid of them is a rather tricky and expensive affair. So throughout the book, we see him struggling with a crowd of raving screaming dead prisoners who co-inhabit his mind. That is what my own mind feels like at times. But still, I am glad I am not Sally. It was such a relief when the tea lover finally got banished. Squelch, squelch, squelch, squelch.

‘My name, when I need one, is whatever it needs to be.’

Professor Weatherby Crane, our expert on abyssal taxonomy and biology fascinated me even more than the primary characters. But it is harder to describe why without spoilers. So let me just leave with the note that there is a lot more to them than initially meets the eye.

This is a world you’d probably be more comfortable watching from afar. Life isn’t great for ordinary people—especially if you are on the bad side of the Monarchy. And the Monarch is not exactly benevolent either, and their actions may very well obliterate whatever fragments of humanity have managed to survive. At times, the book feels like a competition between the humans and abyssals as to who can screw up the world more. 

“Fuck.” 

Thy sentiment is appropriate

The author has done a brilliant job of capturing the oceanscapes and denizens of the depths. Myriad ocean-life references and analogies permeate the dialogues and presentations throughout, and it contributes to the ambiance beautifully. 

‘When he looked up at her again, she seemed to puff up, flushing red like a threatened octopus.’

Equally deep is the author's focus on childhood trauma, moral conflicts, gender transitions and the complexities of human emotions. I would not have believed this vast range of themes could be effectively combined in a single narrative. I stand corrected.

‘I’m sorry. We’re both relics of a world that don’t exist anymore.’

All in all, this was a fascinating haunting experience. I didn’t find the ending as interesting as I had hoped, but a book like this is more about the journey than the conclusion. 

This is also not a story where everything gets tied up with a bow. There are many unexplained tangents that we don’t get answers for. In particular, I found Dru’s role in the larger scheme of things a bit baffling. Perhaps in a future book, she will have a grander role to play. I do hope that Marten builds up on this world in future works. Whatever he writes next, I’ll be lining up to read. 

What a fantastic debut. 

‘We done? I gotta go throw myself on Imogene’s holy Sword.’