The Vitruvian Mask

There are two sides to every story. This is a truism of life that people have a tendency of forgetting, and it’s a truism that fiction often ignores. It’s far easier to tell a story where the focus is on one side, fighting for what’s right… or what the author wants the reader to believe is right. It can also result in a satisfying read that doesn’t get bogged down by presenting all sides of the argument in equal measure.
The Vitruvian Mask, BJ Sikes’ follow-up to the fantastic The Archimedean Heart (my review for that went live yesterday; click here to check it out), does a wonderful job of telling the other side of the story in the battle between Naturalists and Scientists (both are proper nouns in the book’s world), without becoming the least bit bogged down. Not that The Vitruvian Mask re-tells The Archimedean Heart’s story; this is firmly a sequel, set less than a year after its predecessor. But it’s a sequel that shifts the story’s focus.

In shifting the story’s focus, The Vitruvian Mask gives Adelaide, the Physician Scientist introduced in the previous book, a more prominent role. The blurb mentions this book is set in the world of The Roboticist of Versailles, indicating the author sees Adelaide as the true protagonist. Henri and his half-brother John also feature in this book, but with smaller roles, particularly for John, who had the largest role last time. As much as I adored Adelaide in the prequel, I’ll admit to not being particularly sympathetic towards her. That changed from The Vitruvian Mask’s first chapter, when it was clear it was putting Adelaide through the ringer.

Catching up with Adelaide less than a year after the events of the first book, and seeing what has become of her life, is a sucker punch. For everything I felt for her in these moments—and throughout the remainder of The Vitruvian Mask—I was delighted to be back in the character’s company. She’s a wonderful character, and this novel does a fantastic job of expanding her story and providing more insight into who she is. Adelaide is still a flawed human being, but one with a resolute belief in doing what she sees as the right thing, despite the law no longer being aligned with that belief. As the story’s twists and turns imperil Adelaide further, the strength she displays is wonderful—another aspect of this complex character. Henri, too, is an imperfect character, something that was in the first book, but this sequel shines a brighter light on; yet, circumstances lead him to showing some wonderful humanity. John, and the characters with less space dedicated to them—both returning and new, with a particular mention for the delightful Mireille—are all fully formed characters that you’ll love, hate, or find yourself somewhere in between with.

At 292 pages in paperback (or an estimated 261 pages on your favourite eReader), The Vitruvian Mask is moderately longer than its predecessor, but remains a reasonably short read. The author has wasted no space in this book, packing it full of story, heart wrenching moments, and glorious character beats. Beginning less than nine months after The Archimedean Heart, Adelaide is heavily pregnant, living in a France that no longer celebrates science, but has outlawed it. Forced to struggle to fit into a world that has criminalised her gift and targeted by an extremist nun obsessed with her sinful ways, Adelaide is shaken by the appearance of Henri and John; unexpected thanks to the first book’s events.

If you’ve read my review of The Archimedean Heart, you may recall my opening that review by musing about when steampunk isn’t steampunk. While that book is certainly steampunk, the argument could be made that The Vitruvian Mask isn’t. Personally, I would argue that this book tells a steampunk tale, however it is set in a post-steampunk world where technology has been banned. A steampunk setting where technology is rare is going to mean the book features fewer of the genre’s elements. If you’re a steampunk fan concerned by this, you shouldn’t be, as it provides a wonderful examination of the impact technology has on the people of Victorian times. And although, in the interest of not spoiling this book, nor its prequel, I won’t say how it factors in, the technological elements used in this book add plenty of colour.

This ban on technology is exemplified through Adelaide’s struggles and journey, and to a lesser degree, Henri and John seeing the effects a Naturalist monarch has had on France. While The Vitruvian Mask is about a character who sits on the opposite side of the Naturalist/Scientist divide than the more prominent characters of that book, it serves as a wonderful juxtaposition. The first book poses questions about an over-reliance on technology; this poses questions about a world without technology. While there are broad science fiction elements represented in this shift, France is suddenly a country where doctors are now unqualified faith healers. Instead of providing medicine to the ill, they will just pray for them and hope for the best. The author presents a terrifying world that poses an opposite argument to her previous novel. Despite its post-steampunk setting and the science fiction elements that come with it, the world feels entirely grounded. These themes are resonant, and Sikes does a wonderful job of exploring them. They don’t bog the story down and instead enrich the world further. The book balances its elements spectacularly. While The Vitruvian Mask doesn’t have the same sense of urgency to it as its predecessor, the pacing moves effectively, and the result is a story that leads up to its finale wonderfully. It is a more personal story than the first book, written with true heart (Archimedean, or not).

Having read these books back to back, it’s interesting to see how the author’s writing has evolved between books, even though The Vitruvian Mask’s prose is largely written in the same style as its predecessor’s. I thoroughly enjoyed the prose in the first book, but Sikes has refined it further. It takes a little more time to explore its surroundings, and transports the reader to its world. The language isn’t particularly flowery, but it perfectly encapsulates the book’s mood. The dialogue is wonderful, with all the characters feeling perfectly natural. The conversations flow incredibly well, ensuring they’re a joy to follow.

Even if you haven’t read my review of The Archimedean Heart, I’ve made enough references to it throughout this review to highlight this follows on from it. If you’re considering picking The Vitruvian Mask up and haven’t read the first book, you won’t feel lost. The writing manages to touch upon that novel, and does so gradually as the story calls for it. New readers will likely see it as background to this story, while it won’t get in the way of returning reader’s enjoyment. With that said, I wouldn’t recommend reading The Vitruvian Mask in isolation (and I wouldn’t recommend this approach for The Archimedean Heart, either). While both books are wonderful and and stand well enough alone, together, they form beautiful companion pieces. I don’t know whether this story is planned to finish with the second book, but sincerely hope it isn’t.

If you enjoy steampunk, historical or science fiction, The Vitruvian Mask tells a wonderful story with these elements. If you’re not a fan, this book may convince you otherwise. With a plot that builds steadily and pitch-perfect characters, it has an incredible amount to offer.