Review: The Devil you Know, K.J. Parker

I was aware of K.J. Parker's writing fame and author status, the background of his secret identity (now revealed), the literary quality of his work and so on and so forth and it seemed like he'd be a writer right up my alley. I figured I'd get round to him eventually but I held off for a while, because, well... because that's what I do.

If I think too much I just don't commit to anything so together with a short story collection by Sartre (because of a recommendation of a friend) I went and ordered the two Tor novellas by him. The one that caught my eye immediately was the one where a world-renowned philosopher sells his soul to the devil in exchange for wealth, health and 20 years of guarantueed life. There's alot more that he receives along with that but all that isn't really relevant without having the context of the story itself.

But then again, everyone knows the basic premise:
Man sells his soul, gets everything he wants and then tries to get out of the deal.
The story's world might not be the earth you recognize, its history might not ring any bells, its hierarchy of devils and angels might just be slightly recognizable but also just not quite (There were actually some interesting moments there.)
What matters here is that this is a fantasy story.

 'But of course,' I hear you say, 'there are devils and angels, of course it's a fantasy.'
'Yes,' I respond, quite patiently, ' and occasionally in a fantastical story you can take these elements as an allegory or as a metaphor to try and get at the heart of a point you're trying to make. And, you see the problem with this story is, that it sets up a character that is supposed to be the greatest philosopher the world has ever seen who signs his soul away. This, naturally, would lead any semi-intelligent person to assume that the basis of the resolution to the story; read: The philosopher will eventually get out of the deal, would be found in a philosophical argument.'

This, and you felt this coming didn't you, you clever little rabbit's bolt-hole, is not the case.

On its own, this is not a problem.
The resolution is well set up. The build-up and some of the clues are there and when the revelation comes it's one that fits with the story.

Do you see what I'm saying?
I'm saying the story is good, on its own. Rather quite good in fact.

However. For me, the problem is three-fold.

And I'm going to go and tell spoilers here.
I've said the story is good, that it's a fantasy with no strict ties to our earth and that the resolution to the tale does not reside in philosophical argument; this is a red herring by the author. He expects you to expect this so he can blindside you.

SPOILERS AND IRE up ahead.




One. The story structure led, me personally, astray in a way that made me assign alot more meaning and cleverness to the writer's build-up, sleight-of-hand or trickery or whatever you want to call it, in a specific and quite crucial moment of the story.
Leading me from that moment on into a rather heightened state of pleased anticipation as to how the resolution of the story would be dealt with.
This is a personal problem, arising from expectation and bias. More on this below.

Two. There was some rewriting as to the capabilities of various characters and institutions after the resolution of the plot. This is called ret-conning and should be damn well frowned upon.
This ties into the fantastical aspect that I mentioned. So, it really rather works in the setting as it is chosen by the author. It is his decision, his set-up, his story he wants to write.  But it's a dirty trick to not even hint at it at the start of the tale, at least. There might have been hints BUT:
The reader comes into this type of story with a set of expectations, and for most people it is this:

By any religion's standard the divinities who get to judge and decide are not fallible.
In religion omniscience and omnipotence is something to not be fucked with.

Three. This one isn't exactly a deal-breaker for my acceptance of the story but it's an eyesore in this particular novella. It's a very specific little thing:
What kind of deal-making devil wouldn't check an autograph? Come to think of it, in what world would an autograph based on WHAT is written have more bearing on a deal with the devil than the fact that the person entering into the contract is actually signing it, on the paper, regardless of how the autograph is written or even if it's not actually the contractee's autograph or if its written on blood or what.
Surely, the fact that the contractee marks the contract is a sign, a declaration of understanding and acceptance and agreement to the contract?

Yeah. But again. This doesn't actually matter to the story's resolution.

Number 2 is, after having read the novel, negated because of my acceptance of the novel's setting as a fantasy. Devils and angels and gods are fallible and can be bluffed.
Number 3 is less forgiveable. It's rather a big plothole. But depite that. This element is also dependant on the fallibility of supernatural creatures who are supposed to be omniscient. Because of this it is dependant on character and idiosyncrasies specific to the supernatural creature or creatures in question. As a fantasy this point falls by the wayside aswell. It's just very inelegant.

Number 1 is shit.
My main reasoning is that it's an editing error. or at least that's my hope, that this problem arises from my own faulty expectatory logic because of a dumb editing error.

However, I'm slightly suspicious that it might just be Parker's dirty little trick, a sleight-of-hand that is meant to confound those who notice it and lull those who don't.

The novella is structured around the use of two points-of-view. They're both first person and they usually show inner observation, not voiced aloud, or conversations, primarily with the only other point-of-view.
These points of view also tend to shift alot. The text is divided into different paragraphs by a symbol.

Also, the symbol doesn't necessarily mean a shift in P.O.V. which means the reader needs to, occasionally, pay very close attention to understand who is talking whenever a new paragraph starts. This is fine. This is not a problem. This has merit and I like it.

But then, at the most crucial point in the story; the signing of the contract, Parker does this:

And just in case you can't be bothered to read that, I'll spell it out for you.

In the direct moment, leading up the signing, the author jumps to the other point-of-view without even skipping a line. That means, that dialogue AND inner observations are switched around. Without notification, without a thought whatsoever. We inhabit the other point of view.

Now, again, this'll usually trap most readers without pause. They see what they expect to see and they move on. Usually also the ones who notice it, get what is being said and then dismiss it as a blatant editing mistake. They move on as well.

As someone who pays close attention to what he reads I noticed it. And more than that, because of what I wanted from this story; it gave me pause.

I'll try to cut this short, as I don't believe the novella merits the attention anymore.

My thought was that the whole dynamic of the two shifting points of view was meant to distract and obfuscate, likely specifically to hide the sleight-of-hand that is taking place right in front of us here, in this key scene; the signing of the contract.

And it was. But for storyline reasons; what you should have figured out by now is that the philosopher doesn't end up legitimately signing the contract. It's a fail-safe that he doesn't end up needing. This is what happens; Parker shifts the POV so that you see what you want to see, someone picks up the fallen inkwell while the other signs the contract.
But what this scene actually depicts is that Saloninus the philosopher knocks over the inkwell, and while the devil picks it up, he quickly signs it so that when the devil is done picking it up, the contract is already autographed, without the devil seeing the deed done.

Stated as blatantly as that it's obvious that the philosopher cheated somehow while autographing, so Parker needed to hide that a bit.
It's a ridiculously stupid trick. A pretty god damn feeble one.

When I saw it, at first I thought it was an editing error.
I expected alot at this point and by my reasoning the only explanations for this apparent flaw would have to be either an editing mistake, which nobody likes to see in their purchase, or it would have to be something deliberate.
I went into this novella thinking it would be about existentialism and morality and philosophy, I mean, the main character's the world's greatest philosopher after all, why would it not be a battle of argument and wits?

And this, since the nature of the dynamic shift in viewpoints was so sudden, and since this revolution of structure was only a mild step further from the two shifting viewpoints so far, and since I still thought that this was going to be the philosopher's great battle of argument and wits to save his immortal soul, is what led me to believe that this was all going to end up in some sort of high-concept argument proclaiming everyone the same entity, à la evangelion and its kaballistic mythology or whatever, thereby proclaiming the philosopher not bound to the contract.
Some splendid, immaculate line of reasoning to crush all of Hell's and Heaven's claims. That because of rational argumentation, negation of the contract would be the end result. This was my desire and expectation.

Of course. This ended up not being the case.
The actual scheme of the philosopher was remarkably enough, all based on down-to-earth greediness and in the end depressingly pedestrian: He bluffed.
It also relied quite heavily on a bizarrely fantastical outcome with magical (alchemical) elements.
Needless to say. I'm miffed.

On the other hand. All these things that I was expecting was also exactly what that devil was expecting.
He knew something was up. But he, like me, just didn't think it'd be so ridiculously. dissappointingly. Stupidly Human.

I went into this with too high and too specific expectations.
I'll reiterate at this point: The Devil You Know is quite good.

Writing out the lines of reasoning here also makes me realise that parts of this are extremely similar to my Ending of Something Wicked This Way Comes post.
But then here it's about an allignment of the devil's expectations with my own.

EDIT: If that allignment of expectations was actually calculated, sought for in a specific audience. Then this would be a diabolically brilliant tale.

EDIT:  What if this story was written specifically to ensnare a reader like myself? With all these expectations and need to vent them somehow. What if this write-up is exactly what Parker had hoped for?

EDIT: What if he's watching right now? Laughing in supreme satisfaction at this little mouse stepping into his diabolical trap?! :o

EDIT: :p