Review: Agyar by Steven Brust

As one can tell from (most of) the other posts on this blog, there is a big science fiction lover in this duo. It's not me, but I’ve recently begun to dip my toe in the fantasy pool. Living with a sci-fi/fantasy collector, it was inevitable that I might start poking around the shelves in the library or have a few choice novels gifted to me.

Agyar was a gift last Christmas, and I finally decided to pick it up just before a trip to Spain in October. I knew I would want to read on the plane, and since I tend to pack heavy, a smaller, lighter book seemed the best choice. Smaller book as it may be, I was not prepared for how much of a story was held in those 254 pages!

We’re aware from the get-go that our, well, antagonist, Jack Agyar, is a certified creep, but we’re not exactly sure of his motive. He preys on young, beautiful women with whom he leaves pale and sickly after lovemaking, and lives in an abandoned house whose only other inhabitant is a ghost. He’s also being set up to take the fall for a mysterious string of murders committed by a former lover. And all of this is told to the reader through a series of indirect, journal-like entries written on a “typing machine” Agyar found within the house he’s squatting.

Because the book never explicitly states the overall theme, I will remain mum on further details as well. This was my first Brust novel, and now I recognize firsthand why my partner adores the author so much. Even within a narrative centered on a seemingly dangerous fiend, there are grounding moments of contemporary social narrative and laugh-out-loud sarcastic observations:

“I’ve heard women, and, lately, some men, talk of women acting stupid to please men, but in fact, I think, that is not what they are doing; it is not a lack of wit or intellect that shallow men crave, it is lack of personality; they desire a woman who will exist only as a shadow to themselves, because this gives them the illusion that they have some importance, that they are more than cattle. Personality is what distinguishes us from each other, what makes each man an woman unique, and to submerge one’s personality is to make one’s self interchangeable, like a mass produced commodity…”

“…but we suddenly noticed that everyone else had left and the busboy, a college-age kid who’d gone to the Art Garfunkel school of hair fashion, was giving us significant looks.”

I highly recommend this book to anyone looking for a quick, thrilling read, and a great entry point into the rest of Steven Brust’s work.

- Chelsea

More But I'd Rather Be Reading! here.