Vera Nazarian is the head of Norilana Books, a small press born just over two years ago in California. In a strange way, reviewing a book written by Vera Nazarian when she’s the head of the publisher would also be an example of self-publishing, but considering that she’s published several other novels with various other publishers, I don’t think this was her main impetus. She’s quite amazing, in that in addition to being the head of the publisher, she also does nearly everything else, including book design, cover design, and web geekery. Norilana specializes in reprints of classics (such as very lovely editions of two of Georges Sands’s novels) as well as original titles; they have more than ten different imprints, and more might be coming. I included Norilana in the first installment of Small Press Week, but I happened to have a second novel (novella, actually) of theirs to read, so I included this one. The Duke in his Castle was published on June 1st of this year.

Rossian, the Duke of Violet, like all the other dukes in his country (all named after colors), is imprisoned in his castle. They have been thus for several generations now; other people are free to come and go, but the dukes, duchesses, and their heirs cannot leave. It is not very healthy for them; Rossian feels that he is dying a slow death. When an emissary from the Duchess of White comes, bearing a box of bones that she swears belong to Nairis the Fabled One, he treats her as a combination of distraction and annoyance. It’s been said that if one of the dukes, duchesses, or heirs can discover the secret of each of the other houses (a secret arcane power), then the spell of imprisonment will be broken. Is that what the White Duchess’s emissary wants?

This is a novella; it’s just a bit over 100 pages. It also takes place in a very small space, and has very few characters; Rossian cannot leave his castle and is generally isolated other than his butler and a couple of maids. Other than that, we have the Duchess’s emissary (Lady Izelle) and no one else. We see the dining room, a little outside courtyard, a couple of bedrooms, and the duke’s study. The courtyard is described as small, despite the fact that it is open-air, and the duke feels no more relief from his imprisonment in that area than he does in any other room. The limitations of space and character in this story, I think, are more related to the duke and his imprisonment than the limitations of the novella form. Ms. Nazarian emphasizes the close nature of the story with all of her physical restrictions.

The Duke in his Castle is written in third-person present tense; it stays confined to Rossian’s point of view. (Again, a theme of confinement.) Ms. Nazarian’s language is very poetic and lyrical; she is amazing at choosing exactly the right word for every situation. She evokes an amazing range of images in just a few sentences. Here’s an example, a descriptive paragraph only a few pages in:

There are other such rooms in the castle, and he samples them over the years. Though, it seems there are always that many more left unexplored, untouched; chambers are endless pristine spaces in a honeycomb, containing whatever ancient dross or treasures the mind can only surmise at, and often as such they go unrecognized. A glimpse in one of them might reveal volumes from the lost library of Alexandria underneath a thick sheeting of dust, or a handful of Atlantean coins found at the bottom of a distant sea and brought here by galleon, their surface luster disguised by encrustation of barnacle and salt. The possibilities skim across the mind, ghostly leftovers of human curiosity, which the Duke finds less and less in himself. . . .

It is not a happy, light-hearted book; overall the themes include confinement, life, death, and responsibility. I wouldn’t also consider it great reading for children; the language would perhaps be a little much, as well as the depth of the themes. There is also a scene that may be disturbing to younger readers, with its intimations of rape; it was disturbing to me, but obviously the author intended it as such. I came away from the book a little bit awed, first by her mastery of language, and second by the strength and power of the story. It didn’t hit me in the gut, but slowly, like a rock on my chest, pressed its way into my entire consciousness. It’s amazing how much of a (slow) punch she can pack into 118 pages; I’d love to see what she could do with a full-length novel. 4.5/5 stars.