The mistreatment of changelings is not the only thing that seems positively medieval in this alternate England. The entire social structure is built around a labor caste system of guilds, each composed of a hierarchy in which the ordinary guildsmen lie at the bottom, ruled in turn by Masters and Grandmasters. Robert Borrows is born into one of the lowlier guilds in the village of Bracebridge, a town that lives off the mining of aether. He leads a normal existence, living with his parents and older sister, going to school... barring any disaster he will one day be expected to follow his father into the toolmakers' guild and into the same life of grinding, borderline poverty. One day, however, Robert accompanies his mother on a mysterious trip to a rundown house in a nearby town where they visit an elderly lady by the name of Mistress Summerton and in the process meet her captivating young ward Annalise. Shortly after the visit, Robert's mother takes ill and the family's worst fears are realized when it becomes clear that she is transforming into a changeling, for reasons Robert can't fathom. After Robert's mother dies in the process of being committed to an asylum, young Robert decides to escape Bracebridge for London.

In London, Robert falls in with a group thieves and pickpockets, but these are not ordinary members of the underworld. They are revolutionaries of a sort, calling one another "citizen" and seeking, sometimes more romantically than practically, the overthrow of the caste system and the dawning of a promised new age. In London, Robert will again meet the now older and even more bewitching Annalise, who under the name of Anna Winters has become the center of a group of elite guildsfolk and lives, it would seem, far beyond her means. As Robert's fascination with Annalise grows and he decides to learn more about her, his investigation uncovers far more than he could have ever expected, including not only the nature of Annalise and Mistress Summerton but the ties that bind them to Robert and his mother as well as the true story behind his mother's illness and death. It is a discovery that may prove to have enormous consequences not only for Robert but for all of their caste-driven society as he uncovers a conspiracy that lies at the heart of the rotten guild system.

It would seem difficult to write a bildungsroman set in an industrializing England and not owe a debt to Dickens. That debt is clearly evident in MacLeod's novel, not only in the episodes of gritty realism or in the urge to depict the extremes of social stratification, from the most abject poverty to the most rarefied wealth, but also in its deep sense of place. Transformed by MacLeod's fantastic alchemy, London in particular manages to be both instantly recognizable and subtly, strangely different, while Bracebridge has all the characteristics one would associate with an industrial northern English town.

Beyond Dickens, the influence of Peake is also unmistakable, particularly in the deep sense of melancholy that pervades the book all the way through to its bittersweet ending. China Miéville has written of his wish to derive from Peake a literature of the fantastic that would stand in opposition to the hollow, escapist, comforting fare that passes for fantastic fiction today. If so, he might think of MacLeod as a kindred spirit. Whether MacLeod shares Miéville's ideological convictions is uncertain but also beside the point. Despite all the talk about revolutions, new ages and ideals betrayed, the novel turns out to be less about politics in the end than about love, in particular love unrequited, love frustrated, love squandered. But in that respect, or in any other, it is safe to say that there is nothing fundamentally comforting about The Light Ages. If it is light fare the reader is seeking, they may wish to seek elsewhere.

The Light Ages is, quite simply, an excellent novel. Creative, original, profound and stocked with utterly believable principal and secondary characters. In the end, however, the most captivating element of the book is quite simply the language. That from among this year's offerings you may read a better fantasy is possible, but that you may find a better written one is unlikely. MacLeod's prose manages to be both immersive and exquisite and manages an impeccable consistency of quality throughout.

The six year wait for a new book by Ian MacLeod has more than paid off. The Light Ages is already a clear contender for the best fantasy novel of the year and will undoubtedly grace many a top ten list.