Even Though I Knew the End is romance amid magic and determinism wrapped in a PI novella. (It’s actually a bit of a much-less-dark cousin to last week’s Harmattan Season.) When we meet Helen Brandt, she’s in a Chicago alley attempting an augury, for which she’ll be paid a whopping $50, which she can add to the nest egg she’ll leave her beloved, Edith, on this their last weekend together. The murder she’s meant to investigate turns out much uglier than originally understood, and besides, her augury is interrupted by two members of the Brotherhood of the Compass, a sort of magical professional society from which she’s been barred. Oh and one of them is her long-lost brother (literal). Same-sex love in 1941 Chicago is a challenge unto itself (Helen has friends who have disappeared into insane asylums, for example), as is being a woman in that same setting. Add to that mix angels, demons, souls sold and stolen and earned back.
I loved the historical setting (but plus magic), and the queer speakeasy and community; I loved the femme fatale / gorgeous-but-dangerous-dame sort of character, and found Edith’s religious devotion an unexpected twist. Again (and in such a short time span for this reader) I met some classic or traditional elements of a noir tale, mixed up with new ones. I heard echoes of Chuck Wendig’s Miriam Black. But where Harmattan Season was grim, Polk offers hope – however bittersweet and limited – for a happier ending. As smoke-shadowed as this world is, Even Though I Knew the End is also deeply sweet in its romantic element.
I felt that those Polk shorts I read recently offered varied degrees of success with the shorter format – meaning, some felt a bit more complete or fully realized than others. Many writers, I’d venture, get trained in the novel-length form, and/or have the most reading experience in that length; masters of the short story seem fewer than masters at the novel. (Am I reaching? Do you agree?) I don’t know if that shorter form is harder, or just a place where we tend to get less experience. At any rate. If Polk was experimenting with highly enjoyable but imperfect success in those shorts, here I feel they have achieved something pretty perfect, fully realized, in these 133 pages. Which is not to say I don’t want more of Helen (and Edith) – I very much do. But Helen’s days were always numbered; maybe this is all we get.
Plenty gritty but still sweet, masterfully complete in a small package, with period detail and imaginative flair–I love this story and will follow Polk wherever they may lead next.
Filed under: book reviews | Tagged: fantasy, historical fiction, LGBTQ, mystery, novella, romance |






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