This book is an absolute masterpiece! When I picked it up, I was uncertain, because though I loved her first adult novel, The Binding, I was worried that this one would be a little too complicated, and that I would abandon it before getting fully into it. It doesn’t help that the last two books I read this past week -both of which I had really been looking forward to- disappointed me, and I just needed something to stop me sliding into a slump. I can absolutely say The Betrayals did that and more! 

The book follows serval threads; The Rat, a shadowy figure living her life in hiding in the dark corners of Montverre, Léo Martin in the present, Claire Dryden in the present, and Léo’s journal from when he first attended Montverre ten years before the current events take place. All of these string together so beautifully, and actually the structure of the story made me think, by the end, of the grand jeu, the game the characters study and perform in their school. The book opens with a point of view from The Rat, and this was the perfect way to draw me into the world, because her narrative is immediate, simple; she is a young girl struggling to survive in a place she should not be, so she has become something that will slip beneath people’s notice: a rat. Despite this though, the Rat is intimately connected to Montverre, and through this unique perspective I was hooked. I enjoyed her chapters, and also really appreciated the fact that, apart from being just another perspective, her narrative thread was woven through that of the other characters, too. 

Then there are the alternations between Léo and Claire, and this strange world of the grand jeu. It took me a long time to even begin to understand what characters might be describing when talking about it. They mentioned music, maths, movement, and I honestly still don’t entirely understand, but I gather that it’s something performed, something that they often refer to as worship, and something that creates metaphors to view the world with. In an author’s note at the end of the book, Collins says that ‘The Betrayals was in part inspired by Hermann Hesse’s brilliant novel The Glass Bead Game (also known as Magister Ludi),’ which I have not read and know nothing about, so I might investigate and see if that brings more to light for me. But not understanding this central element of the story didn’t take away from my enjoyment, because the way Collins describes it throughout the novel is so full of life that I can picture it in the abstract. 

It’s hard to talk about this book without giving things away, because there are some achingly good twists in it. Essentially, though, the story follows Léo as he is banished to his old school Montverre after opposing a new bill being passed by his Party, which is currently moving the country towards a ‘pure’ society, eradicating religion and all foreign influence. At Montverre he meets Claire, who is the first and only woman ever to be appointed Magister, and though they have never met there is something familiar in their interactions, and they play a dance of power and information throughout. Despite the twists, the whole narrative has this great sense of inevitability in it, and the characters all feel as if they are spinning towards something inescapable. Collins is really skilled at creating this background tension, especially by using the contrast of past and present, so that even during scenes where the characters are full of joy, you can feel the next disaster looming. It makes for very emotional reading, and I loved the way it tugged at my heartstrings. 

What Collins also does very well is longing. Each character wants something, and in some cases it is one of the other characters, and it can be hard to write pining and mutual pining in a way that isn’t repetitive or overwhelming, and I think The Betrayals (and The Binding, for that matter) does it perfectly. There is a sense of longing even in the ending, which can also be hard to do, but I was happy with the way it was executed. The final pages left me wondering, and in some ways wanting to see more, but I was also satisfied with it. 

I’m so glad I decided to pick this up; I read it in just over a day and I’m sure I will be thinking of it for many more to come.

The Betrayals is a fantastic book. I know there have been mixed reviews, and to an extent I understand them. Your ability to enjoy this book will be defined by your willingness to embrace abstraction, and so it won't be what all readers are looking for.

Collins does not shirk from her narrators' unlikeable qualities, which can sometimes make for uncomfortable reading. The plot of this story has definite weak moments, where either too much or too little is given away, and the central concept of the grand jeu remains an abstract mystery throughout, which may frustrate readers. Personally, the subplot of the Rat is a particular point of contention, as I feel that this thread added very little to the story. I also have a personal preference for more certain, definitive endings - but I won't go into too much detail, as I'd like to keep this review light on spoilers! These, however, are the main reasons I have not rated this book any higher.

Despite these criticisms, I genuinely think that this book is a fantastic achievement. What it does well, it does excellently. 

The glory of The Betrayals is not in its plot, but in the way it captures themes, concepts, atmospheres, and emotions. The snatches of the grand jeu which we are allowed to understand contain sing with love for classical music, philosophy, mythology, modern art, and even mathematical principles. Collins herself notes taking substantial inspiration from The Glass Bead Game by Herman Hesse. I think the story also owes much to George Orwell's 1984, as the dystopian society framing Montverre is much like an infant version of Oceania.

The grand jeu is an ode to interdisciplinary work and divergent thinking. The plot of The Betrayals pushes its central characters further, to consider the moral obligations of scholars towards their art, pupils, and wider society. This book is a maze of intertextuality and social philosophy, and I think, in some ways, it might struggle to find its audience. But it's certainly found itself a loving home on my bookshelves.