Yeah, the cat’s already out of the bag. House of Open Wounds by Adrian Tchaikovsky, was The Quill to Live’s book of the year. But what the hell does that even mean? What makes the sequel so damn good? Well, strap in, it’s going to get messy.
The Pallaseen’s march to dominate the world continues, which means there is a growing pile of bodies and wounded soldiers that need tending. Yasnic, former priest of God, has found a new home in the medical tent. But it’s not just any medical tent. It’s a tent full of the various sundered gods that promise even momentary reprieve from the suffering of war. It is the task of the tent to exploit these faiths, finding their hard edges and turning them to the advantage of the Pallaseen Army. If it’s not useful, then it is ammo for the machines of war. Maric Jack, or Yasnic, is pulled into the tent with his little house of forgotten gods. When he is forced to save a spy with the powers of God, he upsets the chain of command when that spy dies, disobeying the oaths he promised to God. Can he learn to survive under the yoke of the Pallaseen while saving as many as he can? It’s time to talk about healing in every possible way you can think of.
I won’t lie, finding out that The City of Last Chances was the opening salvo in a series was a little heartbreaking. It was such a strong performance from Tchaikovsky, using his skills to describe a city filled with many different cultures, instead of the usual ecologies we’re used to. It ended with a tinge of hope in a world of bleak progress. But House of Open Wounds invited me in with open arms and a menacing hug. It has a distinct and vibrant personality that feels different from City and a part of a greater whole. The opening chapters whisked me off of my feet and showed me the bloody, brutal mess of the tents as atheist soldiers are tended to by the priests of their conquered foes. It’s a horrifying story about the nature of war, witnessed through the wounds, death, and tools it employs. And somehow, at the end of it all, we end up with an even better book than its predecessor.
The fast-paced and sardonically tinged prose is back and hungry for more eyes. It still feels fresh, even if sometimes it has a tendency to feel more narrow in its scope. But it’s fun and irreverent. It feels conversational, yet it leads to incredible detail as it pertains to the inner lives of the characters. The moments of panic, horror and emotional tension are fleshed out, giving a life to the story that allows for its thematic explorations. The prose is simultaneously deep and light on its feet, allowing the narrative to explore its surroundings like a bird searching for food. It picks and scratches at the ground, revealing little bits at a time. It never feels spastic, but it’s always restless. It’s also employed to great effect to help detail the wider world outside the city of Ilimar. There are big cultures, small villages, rival empires, and new faiths. It’s always fun to see Tchaikovsky employ his ecosystemic thinking to his fantasy worlds, and Open Wounds only pushes the boundaries.
Beyond his worldbuilding, Tchaikovsky has written some truly wonderful characters and their chemistry is much more intimate than in book one. The various scallywags and cast-offs that populate the medical tent are loveable as all hell and will stick in my mind forever. Yasnic is our only returning lead, adopting a new alias under the name Maric Jack. He comes out of his shell a bit more through the story, but his arguments with God are just as enjoyable. The Butcher is a steadfast brick shit house of a man that has a hidden history. The priestess of purifying flame eternally dancing with the priest of filth as they bicker like an old married couple is heartwarming and provides great comedy while somberly exploring a passionate relationship tinged with cosmic rivalry. The various members of the Pallaseen sway were a welcome change of pace, ranging from the lowly soldiers to the most cold and calculating of officers and generals. Everyone has a part to play in the story and an idea to explore. They all feel artfully crafted and fit together like an intricate puzzle in order to explore every nook and cranny of the book’s central themes. I didn’t even feel as if certain characters were missing stage presence. They all felt meticulously balanced for such a large cast.
But what would this review be without bringing up the central themes of House of Open Wounds? Whereas Last Chances took a sweeping view of the various factions preparing for a revolution against the Pallaseen, Open Wounds digs deeper into the process of recuperation. The medical tent, while providing a healing service, also serves as a workshop in how to employ the very magic the Pallaseen seek to destroy and quantify it. Within the Butcher’s tent, the grinding scientific distillation of feats attained by faith often removes the moral use of that magic. The Pallaseen turn it into a tool, and in their quest for further domination of the world, that tool is often a weapon. Open Wounds succeeds in this examination across various different characters, starting with Maric Jack and the hard rules of his God. What use is a soldier who pledges to do no harm in order to remain alive? And is the one capable of providing such a service an enemy? Can the tenets of that faith be experimented with until the saved finds a way to once again become a soldier without incurring the wrath of God? The book expands beyond just these conundrums, but uses it as a starting point to ask these questions of the other faiths. What is the utility of doctrine when applying technology and tools, be it magical or not? Who gets to decide the utility and morality of those tools?
There are other books that deal with this conundrum, but I think Open Wounds does it with more fervor. It doesn’t just look at one piece of technology that has societal implications. It looks at the societal implications of technological adoption in general. The forces that drive that adoption and the bloody machine that grinds the bones of the dead and dying into a “brighter future.” The novel engages with it as a system but also looks at the people that turn the handle on that machine. I always felt that “the path to hell is paved with good intentions” to be a lazy remark, but I think it fits here. Every character has to grapple with how much they are saving and how much destruction is possible through their implementations. How much pain can you absolve yourself from causing by being the one to attempt to control the direction of those forces? The book doesn’t offer easy answers, and I don’t want it to. It brings up the questions in a way that feels central to the characters so that the discussion feels organic.
House of Open Wounds was our 2024 top pick. It builds on everything that City of Last Chances sets up, and spends more time digging in the dirt. It’s curious about it’s own premise and spends time sifting through its own questions in entertaining and thoughtful ways. It’s a sad book about being caught in the grind of empire. It’s brutal and its cold in its examination, but warm in how it treats its characters. If you felt overwhelmed by the sweeping narrative of City of Last Chances, you’ll find some grounding in the cloying stench of the medical tent… if you can stomach the gruesome scenery.
Rating: House of Open Wounds – Clear your schedule and clean your scalpels, it’s time to do some soul surgery.
-Alex
Amazing book, and fantastic review.