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A review by zefrog
The Betrayals by Bridget Collins
3.0
The Betrayals is a difficult book to like. Its glacially slow pace, and overwhelming narrative minutiae, particularly in the first 100 pages or so, as well as Collins' reluctance to provide the readers with much context and background that would fully realise the universe she is creating, and help them relate to what they are reading, form fence as difficult to overcome as that of the remote boarding school where the book is set.
As if set in a parallel universe, the plot, which appears to take place in a version of the interwar, in a country reminiscent of France and Germany, is divided along two distinct timeframes ten years apart from each other. In the intervening years something resembling the rise of the Nazi party has occurred, with Christians (rather than Jews) becoming the chief scapegoats and persecuted minority. But none of this is ever really explained or made in any way particularly crucial to the plot.
The book presents three points of vue to the reader (the Rat's, the Magister Ludi's (game master/teacher), Léo Martin's, and Martin's younger self through his diary). Even though the Rat turns out to be of major importance for the advancement of the plot, the character is very minor, with a storyline that often feel superfluous. Perhaps because of Collins' past as a YA author, it is the sections purporting to be Léo's diary that are the most engaging and come the most alive.
The central gimmick of the book, which lents it a possibly unnecessary supernatural vibe, is something called the grand jeu (great/big game). As far as can be established, it is a nebulous form of semi-religious worship, that sounds like a cross between a dance and a magical rite, and is somehow imbued with music, literature, maths and science. It is however is never really explained enough for the reader to get a proper grasp of what it is and how it works.
What passes for betrayals in the book are not really such things, lacking the necessary calculation to qualify. Yes, the characters feel betrayed by others but it is usually as a result of mistakes or misunderstandings. The pace and structure of the book, as well as the to and fro of miscommunications between the characters, seem, in fact, much more reminiscent of Collins' elusive central creation: the grand jeu. Which is why, in my view, it should have given its name to the book.
Despite all this, and once the hurdle of those first 100 or so pages is passed, Collins somehow manages to create a fairly compelling narrative that sustains the reader's interest to the end. Just like the looming but incohate grand jeu itself, however, there seems to be a central void at the heart of this book, which Collins describes as "a book for adults", and it is not totally clear why Collins decided to write it and what she wanted to say through it. It's a bit of a mess, basically.
As if set in a parallel universe, the plot, which appears to take place in a version of the interwar, in a country reminiscent of France and Germany, is divided along two distinct timeframes ten years apart from each other. In the intervening years something resembling the rise of the Nazi party has occurred, with Christians (rather than Jews) becoming the chief scapegoats and persecuted minority. But none of this is ever really explained or made in any way particularly crucial to the plot.
The book presents three points of vue to the reader (the Rat's, the Magister Ludi's (game master/teacher), Léo Martin's, and Martin's younger self through his diary). Even though the Rat turns out to be of major importance for the advancement of the plot, the character is very minor, with a storyline that often feel superfluous. Perhaps because of Collins' past as a YA author, it is the sections purporting to be Léo's diary that are the most engaging and come the most alive.
The central gimmick of the book, which lents it a possibly unnecessary supernatural vibe, is something called the grand jeu (great/big game). As far as can be established, it is a nebulous form of semi-religious worship, that sounds like a cross between a dance and a magical rite, and is somehow imbued with music, literature, maths and science. It is however is never really explained enough for the reader to get a proper grasp of what it is and how it works.
What passes for betrayals in the book are not really such things, lacking the necessary calculation to qualify. Yes, the characters feel betrayed by others but it is usually as a result of mistakes or misunderstandings. The pace and structure of the book, as well as the to and fro of miscommunications between the characters, seem, in fact, much more reminiscent of Collins' elusive central creation: the grand jeu. Which is why, in my view, it should have given its name to the book.
Despite all this, and once the hurdle of those first 100 or so pages is passed, Collins somehow manages to create a fairly compelling narrative that sustains the reader's interest to the end. Just like the looming but incohate grand jeu itself, however, there seems to be a central void at the heart of this book, which Collins describes as "a book for adults", and it is not totally clear why Collins decided to write it and what she wanted to say through it. It's a bit of a mess, basically.