Oh lord almighty, it’s another K.J. Parker novella! Pulling the Wings Off Angels embroils readers in a quickfire theological conundrum with a divine winged being at its heart. We’ve praised Parker in the past for Prosper’s Demon (a novella masterpiece) and many other works. Does Pulling the Wings Off Angels have the same heft? Let’s pray on it.
Our nameless protagonist is a cynical and ironically faithless seminary. He has run up a massive gambling debt with Florio, one of the city’s most notorious crime bosses. Our narrator has dodged Florio for too long, and he must now pay up or die. There’s a catch, though. Florio is deeply devout, and he has heard rumors that the seminary’s family once captured an angel and hid it away. Florio doesn’t want money; he wants the angel. With a divine being in tow, Florio can wipe his criminal slate clean and become drastically richer in the process. Our narrator, despite his lack of faith, begins a search for the angel in the hopes of eliminating his debt and saving his own life.
K.J. Parker thrives in uncomfortable philosophical spaces. Prosper’s Demon was an explosive exploration of art, science, and the impact of their brightest minds on the products they produce. Pulling the Wings Off Angels takes on an even touchier subject: the nature of the divine. I loved spending some time (however short it was) with these characters and their theological witticisms, but I also felt like Parker struggled to condense his rather gargantuan ideas into a tiny page count.
It’s easy for me (a distinctly non-religious and often anti-religion guy) to relate to the main character, but it’s also nice to be reminded of how such vocally cynical beliefs can grind down your mood into a water-soluble, people-repellant powder caked onto your personality. There’s not a lot of cutting humor to dispel that feeling, though. I don’t want anyone to read the blurb and think they’re getting a violent romp through divinely-inspired brutes when it’s much more of a philosophical treatise.
For my money, Florio is the real star. He’s made out to be a villainous oaf at first, but he is quickly revealed to be a conniving and delightfully still villainous mastermind. He has a plan, and it involves him getting his own kingdom. But if the plan succeeds and an all-knowing God grants him the kingdom, was it not part of the divine God’s plan to grant Florio his kingdom all along? How does that pan out from a theological standpoint? Parker examines this through Florio’s blackmailing of god and treatment of the protagonist. Florio, then, is in large part the reason the book works on many levels. But even he, a criminal underworld boss with a propensity for a dastardly plan, cannot carry that weight on his own.
What I’m trying to get at here is that Parker introduces and marginally grapples with intriguing questions of his in-world theology (which is similar to many real-world theologies). But, as we know, on the seventh day God both rested and created novellas, the latter of which contain limited page space. While I think Parker does a fine job imposing his themes on his characters, the end result still feels like a pin-prick rather than a nuclear conclusion as we’ve seen in his other works. It’s a bleak fizzle where I’d hoped for a sizzle-sizzle-pop.
Ultimately, Pulling the Wings Off Angels won’t convert the casual reader to the church of K.J. Parker. It’s interesting, but not in the same ways as some of his best. It’s fun, but not as fun as his funnest. It’s a great, quick read for anyone who doesn’t mind chewing on theological philosophy (or philosophical theology) and/or existing Parker fans.
Rating—Pulling the Wings Off Angels: 7.0/10
