All the weird, all the violence, all the rebellious snark and darkness live in that one line. The opening line of Tamsyn Muir's debut novel, Gideon the Ninth, is, in effect, a primal distillation of everything that comes after. No, it's a line that lurks a little bit further back in the pack that mocks its betters under its breath and slinks right into your brain to let you know exactly what you're in for. It can't compete with punchier, pithier, more highly polished openers, but who would want to? That isn't a front-row line. It's not at the top because it's a little weird, a little long, a little clunky and oddly punctuated. In the Eternal Record of great opening lines, that one is. In the myriadic year of our lord - the ten thousandth year of the King Undying, the kindly Prince of Death! - Gideon Nav packed her sword, her shoes and her dirty magazines, and she escaped from the House of the Ninth.
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