Book cover for Gideon the Ninth. A red-headed woman wearing sunglasses and corpse paint batters skeletons aside with her sword.
Gideon the Ninth cover, courtesy of Tor.com

Assistant Editor Lily Davenport: While we don’t tend to get much nonrealist fiction in the queue here at CR—something I’d love to see shift a bit, if anyone reading this has a spooky space-opera story or flash about a warlock pact!—I’m a firm believer in the notion that just as literary realism holds craft lessons for other genres, speculative fiction and fantasy (SFF) have things to teach those who don’t write about dragons, moon colonies, or dragons who raid moon colonies. Foremost among those lessons is SFF’s focus on setting, and the consequences it has for everything from character to conflict to pacing and narrative scope. Worldbuilding is, of necessity, a foundational element in SFF (can you imagine a loreless Lord of the Rings?), and often the thing that genre readers get the most excited about: the element that heads up the elevator pitch when we’re trying to get someone else to read a book we loved. On the flip side, insufficiently thorough worldbuilding is also one of the tells that a writer is new to SFF, or that they’re drawing on SFF surface elements for a “literary and definitely not genre” novel without taking the time to better understand those elements’ connotations and inner workings in-genre—something that never fails to make me even more grumpy and disappointed than I generally am, because it’s such an easily avoidable problem. 

And what better way, I ask you, to appreciate the finer points of SFF’s hardworking settings—and get around some of the pitfalls lurking for the genre-inexperienced as they seek to learn from SFF’s specialized capabilities—than to evaluate them as potential vacation destinations? We’re beginning this series with Gideon the Ninth, Tamsyn Muir’s 2019 debut novel and the kickoff to the Locked Tomb series: beloved of goths, Joan of Arc fans, medieval-weaponry aficionados, the sapphically inclined, the guilt-ridden-for-no-good-reason, cosplayers, and feminists who have a love-hate relationship with the work of Gene Wolfe.

In Gideon the Ninth, Tamsyn Muir presents a two-part tour of the solar system’s most mysterious and exclusive destinations: the Ninth House and Canaan House (sometimes called the First House). Don’t be fooled by the nomenclature: the Ninth is more like a drill shaft carved into the surface of a planet, and Canaan House is essentially a castle, but they’re both oozing all the gothic atmosphere, necromantic drama, and post-post-apocalyptic imperial chic you could possibly ask for. And, to add to the mystique, both houses have been closed to outsiders for millennia—praise the wisdom of the King Undying!—and offer special delights for any traveler who likes a bit of mystery and isn’t afraid of high stakes or getting their hands dirty. 

Begin your journey to ultimate rest by wandering through the historic catacombs and hallowed chapels of the Ninth House, where nuns in corpse paint polish the ossuaries and pay prayerful obeisance to Harrowhark, their teenage liegelady and the most powerful necromancer the Ninth has seen in generations. Witness an osseous spectacle as the house’s skeletons go out to till the fields, a muster call–cum-poetry-reading that brings together its living and dead personnel, and a training match between the captain of the house’s guard and its upstart swordswoman, Gideon. But watch your step in the sub-basements; something is locked up in the deepest tomb, behind layers of traps both practical and necromantic, meant to keep even the King Undying’s strongest and most determined enemies out. (. . . or is it “in”?) 

Be sure to bundle up and get cozy for this leg of your journey—the Ninth is aptly named given its location in the solar system, and is known for its practical and political role as a reliquary of the deathless emperor’s secrets and home to a cult of bone adepts, not its temperate climate! Break out your cashmere robes and your thickest skeleton-knitted gloves and socks, and don’t forget to accessorize for your chapel tour with a string of locally sourced prayer bones. For the full Ninth experience, you could even swipe on some deathly facepaint for the day, and sip some chilled nutrient broth—cold drinks are traditional here, no matter the weather!—as you watch Harrow pilot the dead bodies of her parents ceremonially around the chapel for morning prayers. Just as the phalanges finish up a hand, it’s those little details that make a day at the Ninth House into a memory you’ll treasure for years to come. 

Pack light for the next stage of your trip. Gideon, famously, brings only “her sword, her shoes, and her dirty magazines,” and Canaan House is an all-inclusive, invitation-only destination, built ten thousand years ago under the direction of the emperor himself. Even the menu is planned out for you in advance: the system’s finest housekeeping skeletons will whip up chef-quality meals three times a day. Highlights include house-made breads, green salads featuring local greenhouse produce, onion risotto, and creamy berry galettes for dessert. Once you’ve eaten your fill, the staff of venerable priests can point you in the right direction to start your adventure and unlock the house’s ancient secrets; the senior staff member, Teacher, is a wealth of resources who’s seen almost everything (and a genuine old soul). Take some hot green tea, served in a bone-china cup older than most buildings in the empire, to go as you settle in to view an exhibition duel between rival cavaliers or stroll the crumbling battlements. There’s even a fitness room featuring an indoor saltwater pool—perfect for some bonding time with your travel companion, since the sea that surrounds Canaan House on all sides is inaccessible from the heights of the castle itself. 

But the real attraction of Canaan House is belowground, in the course of hidden team-building challenges that develop the connection between necromancer and cavalier, and spark questions about the house, the empire, and necromancy itself. All this makes Canaan House the perfect destination for competitive and adventurous travelers—if you love escape rooms, murder-mystery parties, and playing for keeps, you’ll feel right at home here! It’s the perfect venue for a corporate retreat, a wedding, or a family reunion (no one will remember to make snide remarks about which division of the Cohort you bought your daughter’s officer commission for, since they’ll be much too busy getting their cardio in by fleeing from bone constructs and hungry ghosts). Canaan House has room for even the biggest groups, plenty of surprises above and belowground to challenge the hardiest and most jaded guests, and enough skeletons to clean up any mess that you could possibly leave behind.

Final Vacation Score 

Accommodations: 8/10. Possesses the challenges of any older building—a few drafts are just part of the experience!—but features saltwater pool, sword gym, and secret laboratory/bunker. 

Food: 7/10. Mostly catered, with occasional contributions from other guests. Served family-style. Local produce. Ninth House dining options somewhat limited, though it adds to the location’s charm! (Canaan House dining may include your cavalier’s soul, if you are a necromancer.) 

Arts & Culture: 6/10. Gorgeous ruins that allow you to walk through a bygone era and bring the past to life, but no museums, galleries, or live performances due to the remote location and small staff. 

Nature: 3/10. Mostly dead. Ocean views a plus, but beach is inaccessible. 

Weird: 10/10. Haunted. 

Total: 34/50. Well worth the trip! 

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