"What's a man like down there?" 
 "Oh." Sidheag wrinkled her nose. "Unimpressive. They have," she gestured toward her own nether regions with one hand, "a sort of dangly sausage--lacks tailoring." 
 Brilliant description, brilliant! 
 If ever there was an enjoyable book featuring a Mary Sue of a heroine, this is it. Despite my rating, I liked reading this book, because it was a funny, quick, fast, very light read. My main problem: that's just it. There is absolutely zero complexity in the book, it was funny, but there was absolutely nothing more to it. It is completely devoid of substance with an utterly convoluted plot. And really, was there a need to include a love triangle when the main character in the book is all of 15 years old. Was it necessary to make her so completely perfect, so utterly capable, so tremendously intelligent, so flawlessly absorbing, particularly to the male sex? 
 [Sophronia] had not yet received lessons in seduction, or she might have understood the appeal of sharp confidence, a topping figure, and green eyes. All Sophronia's intellect was directed at something other than attracting male companionship. These things combined to make her particularly appealing to gentlemen. 
 Fifteen years old, ladies and gentlemen. Our main character is fifteen years old, with the unconscious seduction of a young Lolita. With the brilliant analytical skills of a young Holmes. With the philosophical brain of Archimedes. 
 I liked Sophronia, despite her blind perfection, but she could have been so much more. My enjoyment of the book is impeded partially by the lack of complexity and the absence of any sort of depth within this book's characters, be they main characters or part of the side cast. 
 I can't give you a summary for this book because I'm not quite sure what I just read. There will be no detailed plot/character analysis because the characters are so utterly tongue-in-cheek that it's impossible to provide a criticism of them without realizing "well, she's SUPPOSED to be so completely trite and superlatively annoying because she is meant to be a satire of an YA fiction trope." I'm sure there is a way to critically analyze literary satire. My brain's just not quite that far-reaching yet. 
 No summary. Why? Half an hour after reading it, I remember absolutely nothing about it, and I can't even tell you what the hell the main plot was. I don't know what the mystery is, neither do I know how the plot was resolved. I had a lot of fun reading it, it was tremendously humorous. But that's it. I don't know what I just read beyond the humor, beyond the whimsical characters and the funny little steampunk world in which our book is set. 
 I can't tell you what the book is about, what the big spy-related plot is, but I can tell you that Monique is a bitch. That Dimity is in love with Lord Dingleproops. That Vieve is a 10-year old girl who likes to dress as a boy. That there is a love triangle, in which the sootie Soap and the supercilious Lord Felix are both in love with our Queen of the Mary Sues (I like her, but there is absolutely no denying that she is a Mary Sue) Sophronia. I can tell you that Sophronia carries around a little dog-thing (Bumbersnoot) as a purse. Those minute details, I can tell you. 
 Those minute details, I remember. Just not the central plot itself. I'm dead fucking serious. 
 There are a lot of good things about this book. I said it was a quick read and a very amusing one, and it really was. The writing is awesome; it is funny, it is flippant, it doesn't take itself seriously at all. I laughed more than once. 
 Dimity was so pretty and chattery, she quite overpowered the average male. Many gentlemen were unable to cope with abundant chatter, which is why they so often married it. 
 It is absolutely amusing, the book is rampant with silliness. The characters are a parody of British high society, complete with utterly ludicrous names, like the previously mentioned Lord Dingleproops, Professor Shrimpdittle, or else absurdly apostrophed names, like Miss Plumleigh-Teignmott. 
 The steampunk setting can best be described as "twee." We have gidgets and gadgets aplenty. We have whoozits and whatzits galore. Odd little thingamabobs, a steam-powered toy puppy. An "electrosplit goopslimer port." A "Thrushbotham pip-monger swizzle sprocket." There are mechanical maids---clangermaids, mechanical footmen---or rather, footmechs. Airships and dirigibles. Steam-puffing mechanical objects. Oddgobs. It is all terrifyingly, delightfully cute. 
 The school setting itself was pretty awesome, and I wished there were more insights and lessons for me to learn within the incredibly interesting-sounding classes. Seriously, where were these classes when I was still in school. We have classes on "drawing room music and subversive petit fours," "Hive and pack dynamics as part of the modern aristocratic system," "rapid walking in full skirts," "tea and delusions," "portion allotment, puddings, and preemptive poisonings." 
 The discussions in classes were the best part of the book, for example, during a lesson in "distribution, use, and application of stealth spy rocks," the class had this amazing discussion on men's facial hair. 
 The discussion evolved to the interesting question of whether a gentleman could tattoo a secret message upon his chin, then grow out his beard, thus transporting said message into enemy territory with no one the wiser. Would a man want a message permanently upon his chin? That was the quandary. And could one legitimately ascribe nefarious intent to any many with a full beard as a result? 
 "I've always thought beards suspicious," said Dimity with conviction. 
 Me too, Dimity. Me, too.