List: Best Books of 2022

2023 is almost here and here I am, attempting to list my favorite books of the year! This is going to be hard: to avoid a headache, I've decided to list only five titles; but having to choose was excruciating.

Without further ado, in no particular order of appreciation save from this first title who's already among my all time favorites:

You can find my review here. This book has so much heart, and it's so complex and beautiful, that it truly is a must read. If you can read only one book from the many I reviewed this year, make it this one.

You can find my review here. This stunning novel isn't for the faint of heart, exploring the cruelties of Old Hollywood with a dash of faerie, beautiful and dangerous and just as much cruel.

You can find my review here. A delicate exploration of trauma and endurance, of healing despite all odds, of intimacy and acceptance. A lovely book that must be read with caution.

You can find my review here. A perfect second volume for a perfect series, rich and complex and terrifying in parts; love isn't enough when the fate of the world is at stake.

You can find my review here. Perfect for fealty enthusiasts, this book is a loving comfort read set in a richly detailed world and features a thorough exploration of anxiety and power differentials in a relationship.

Review: The Faerie Hounds of York, by Arden Powell

 

William Loxley is cursed. A pale and monstrous creature haunts his dreams, luring him from London to the desolate, grey landscape of his forgotten childhood. There, it will use him to open a door to Faerie—a fate that will trap Loxley in that glittering, heathen otherworld forever.
His only hope of escaping the creature's grasp lies with John Thorncress, a dark and windswept stranger met on the moors. The longer Loxley stays in Thorncress' company, the harder it becomes to fight his attraction to the man. Such attraction can only end in heartbreak—or the noose.

This was terrifying, for me, personally. The pale and monstrous creature? Its descriptions are so vivid that I was about to throw my kindle away. Arden Powell's The Faerie Hounds of York is an atmospheric novella that I couldn't enjoy fully because that thing just kept creeping me out. It's not classified as a horror, but uhhh for me it was! I couldn't focus on the intriguing plot because that thing kept lurking. The romance was bittersweet, with unexpected twists and turns. The conclusion was fantastic.

The Faerie Hounds of York is a solid novella for horror enthusiasts.

✨ 3 stars

Review: The Spear Cuts Through Water, by Simon Jimenez

 

The people suffer under the centuries-long rule of the Moon Throne. The royal family—the despotic emperor and his monstrous sons, the Three Terrors—hold the countryside in their choking grip. They bleed the land and oppress the citizens with the frightful powers they inherited from the god locked under their palace.
With the aid of Jun, a guard broken by his guilt-stricken past, and Keema, an outcast fighting for his future, the god escapes from her royal captivity and flees from her own children, the triplet Terrors who would drag her back to her unholy prison. And so it is that she embarks with her young companions on a five-day pilgrimage in search of freedom—and a way to end the Moon Throne forever. The journey ahead will be more dangerous than any of them could have imagined.

“This is a love story to its blade-dented bone.” Simon Jimenez's The Spear Cuts Through Water defies the boundaries between genres. Is it a sweeping narration of the bonds between people? Is it an oral story? A stunning theater performance? An analysis of the monsters of our own creation? Is it going to make you cry about turtles? Is it a beautiful love story? Is it a tragedy? Is it full of hope? Yes. A sound, earth-shattering Yes to all of the above. This book changes you. I'm trying to find a way to talk about this, but the truth is that this book left me speechless.

The basics, then. The plot, as seen above, is pretty straightforward while also being filled with twists and turns and moments so powerful and touching in their simplicity. At its core, it's also a love story about two violent people, showing them slowly getting closer and finding comfort in each other. But this isn't the story. This is the performance, as shown to the protagonist: you. Is it a real story? Did it happen, in the past of the protagonist's world? Absolutely. Does it blend perfectly with the performance, until you lose yourself in the narration? You bet it does.

If you don't like the second person narration, it's likely you won't like this novel. It's very diffucult to get it right, after all. But this novel gets it exactly right. It doesn't take you out of the book, but rather draws you further in, leading you to the Inverted Theater and its wonders. There are also small segments in the first person, like a chorus in a Greek Tragedy, punctuating the more poignant moments, and it works. Everything works perfectly, like clockwork, creating a stunning tapestry of a novel.

Every character is important. Every small interation counts. Love is the most important thing there is, especially loving yourself. The world is rich, lived in, with astonishing bits of worldbuilding (did I say you'd be crying about turtles?); even the glimpses we get about the present, though less developed, are intriguing. The prose is truly phenomenal, lyrical and evocative. There are terrible depths of depravity and gut-wrenching moments of hope.

The Spear Cuts Through Water is my favorite book of the year. Perhaps it will become yours too?

✨ 5 stars

Review: The Book Eaters, by Sunyi Dean

 

Out on the Yorkshire Moors lives a secret line of people for whom books are food, and who retain all of a book's content after eating it. To them, spy novels are a peppery snack; romance novels are sweet and delicious. Eating a map can help them remember destinations, and children, when they misbehave, are forced to eat dry, musty pages from dictionaries.
Devon is part of The Family, an old and reclusive clan of book eaters. Her brothers grow up feasting on stories of valor and adventure, and Devon—like all other book eater women—is raised on a carefully curated diet of fairytales and cautionary stories.
But real life doesn't always come with happy endings, as Devon learns when her son is born with a rare and darker kind of hunger—not for books, but for human minds.

This was phenomenal. Sunyi Dean's The Book Eaters skirts the horror genre with its visceral description of the way mind eaters feed, but the real horror comes from the isolation of book eater women and the exploitation of their lives and their reproductive system: since book eaters are a dying species and very few women are born, the women get carted off to various families to produce children, until they become infertile and are brought back to the family they were born in. Every once in a while the babies aren't normal book eaters, but are instead mind eaters, feeding on brains: considered monstrous and once killed, they are now exploited as well, as dangerous enforcers, and kept in place by drugs and by a violent organization that abuses its own enforcers.

The subject matter is incredibly dark, but the book is filled to the brim with hope, impossible and everlasting, showing how the power of stories can help breaking free from a restrictive upbringing. Even when trapped, the protagonist Devon keeps her wits about her, willing to do anything in order to survive and to keep her son alive. This brings her to villanous extremes as well, but all the same, you can't help rooting for her to find peace.

For most of the book, it's very difficult to find any positive interation for Devon, leading to thinking of this book as very bleak. But small pockets of light finally shine through: in her friendship with the brother of her second husband, who shows her kindness and acceptance in a terrible household; in the growing relationship with another book eater woman, who's perhaps leading her towards salvation, and in the acceptance of the attraction between them; in the incredibly complex relationship with her son. Scattered throughout are a few chapters from the point of view of Devon's brother, and they feel incredibly violent and intrusive, not only because of their shattered relationship, but also because of what became of him due to a childhood indiscretion. It's the system of the Families, though, of this terrible patriarchy, that is the real villain in the book.

The setting was intriguing; the book eaters live among us, sequestered away in large mansions, and they don't usually mix with humans. There's no explanation given, no origin story; a chapter's epigraph suggests that it might either be aliens or magic.

The Book Eaters is an exploration of motherhood and womanhood that keeps the reader hooked.

✨ 4 stars

Snippet: My Real Children, by Jo Walton

 

It's 2015, and Patricia Cowan is very old. "Confused today," read the notes clipped to the end of her bed. She forgets things she should know—what year it is, major events in the lives of her children. But she remembers things that don’t seem possible. She remembers marrying Mark and having four children. And she remembers not marrying Mark and raising three children with Bee instead. She remembers the bomb that killed President Kennedy in 1963, and she remembers Kennedy in 1964, declining to run again after the nuclear exchange that took out Miami and Kiev.
Her childhood, her years at Oxford during the Second World War—those were solid things. But after that, did she marry Mark or not? Did her friends all call her Trish, or Pat? Had she been a housewife who escaped a terrible marriage after her children were grown, or a successful travel writer with homes in Britain and Italy? And the moon outside her window: does it host a benign research station, or a command post bristling with nuclear missiles?
Two lives, two worlds, two versions of modern history. Each with their loves and losses, their sorrows and triumphs. My Real Children is the tale of both of Patricia Cowan's lives...and of how every life means the entire world.

Think Sliding Doors, but queer and more poignant. Jo Walton's My Real Children is a stunning exploration of the difference that the tiniest choices can make. It's a character-driven piece that only turns more distinctly sci-fi at the very end, leaving the ending open to interpretation; Walton, ever the the practiced writer, deftly paints the two alternate versions of history.

✨ 5 stars

Snippet: In the Vanisher's Palace, by Aliette de Bodard

 

When failed scholar Yên is sold to Vu Côn, one of the last dragons walking the earth, she expects to be tortured or killed for Vu Côn's amusement.
But Vu Côn, it turns out, has a use for Yên: she needs a scholar to tutor her two unruly children. She takes Yên back to her home, a vast, vertiginous palace-prison where every door can lead to death. Vu Côn seems stern and unbending, but as the days pass Yên comes to see her kinder and caring side. She finds herself dangerously attracted to the dragon who is her master and jailer. In the end, Yên will have to decide where her own happiness lies—and whether it will survive the revelation of Vu Côn’s dark, unspeakable secrets...

This is a novella done exactly right. Aliette de Bodard's In the Vanisher's Palace is a queer, sci-fi retelling of Beauty and the Beast where the Beast is a shape-shifting dragon; set in a Vietnamese-like world, this is a post-colonial dystopia weaved with a lyrical prose, and a stunning novella about healing.

✨ 4 stars

Review: Even Though I Knew the End, by C.L. Polk

 

A magical detective dives into the affairs of Chicago's divine monsters to secure a future with the love of her life. This sapphic period piece will dazzle anyone looking for mystery, intrigue, romance, magic, or all of the above.
An exiled augur who sold her soul to save her brother's life is offered one last job before serving an eternity in hell. When she turns it down, her client sweetens the pot by offering up the one payment she can't resist―the chance to have a future where she grows old with the woman she loves.
To succeed, she is given three days to track down the White City Vampire, Chicago's most notorious serial killer. If she fails, only hell and heartbreak await.

This had so much potential. C.L. Polk's Even Though I Knew the End is a short novella that could have had more room to breathe if only it had more pages. If there's something you'll have understood about me over these first few months, it's that novellas are really hit and miss for me; often I find them lacking, underdeveloped. This is no exception: I was really excited about the premise, but the excecution left me hanging; both the relationships and the world-building felt like they were missing something.

It's still a solid story, a good mystery with a sweet established relationship at its core. The protagonist struggles with her fate and with the way a fatal decision changed her life, and throughout the story there is good social commentary. I added half a star because the conclusion genuinely surprised me and gave a new meaning to the narration.

Even Though I Knew the End is an entertaining novella, but it wasn't for me.

✨ 3.5 stars

Review: A Master of Djinn, by P. Djèlí Clark

 

Cairo, 1912: Though Fatma el-Sha’arawi is the youngest woman working for the Ministry of Alchemy, Enchantments and Supernatural Entities, she’s certainly not a rookie, especially after preventing the destruction of the universe last summer.
So when someone murders a secret brotherhood dedicated to one of the most famous men in history, al-Jahiz, Agent Fatma is called onto the case. Al-Jahiz transformed the world 50 years ago when he opened up the veil between the magical and mundane realms, before vanishing into the unknown. This murderer claims to be al-Jahiz, returned to condemn the modern age for its social oppressions. His dangerous magical abilities instigate unrest in the streets of Cairo that threaten to spill over onto the global stage.
Alongside her Ministry colleagues and her clever girlfriend Siti, Agent Fatma must unravel the mystery behind this imposter to restore peace to the city - or face the possibility he could be exactly who he seems...

This was a fun and poignant murder mystery. P. Djèlí Clark's A Master of Djinn is set in a pre-WWI steampunk version of Cairo and sees the protagonist attempt to solve a gruesome murder while navigating her relationship with a new colleague and the blossoming romance with a mysterious woman. Scattered throughout are references to a novella and two novelettes set in the same city; while I hadn't read these three works before, the lack of knowledge didn't impede my enjoyment of the novel, because the mentions were detailled enough that one could keep reading while not worrying to have missed some information, and tantalizing enough to make me add the three works to my to-read list.

The world painted by the author is incredibly immersive and detailled, an alternate take on history after a monumental change that is only a few decades old: the appearance of djinn in the world. The djinn are fascinating characters, and their incorporation in the daily life, and the change that it brings on things like faith and international politics, is one of the more interesting parts of the novel. I was a little blindsided by the sudden appearance of other supernatural entities, but I seem to understand that they were better explained in one of the novelettes.

Fatma, though hailed by everyone around her as an incredible detective, isn't hyper-competent, and I appreciated that. She's human and she makes mistakes, even mistakes that could hinder the investigation, but she's sharp when it counts, and profound, and funny; she's well-rounded and incredibly likable. There's an incredible attention to detail in even the smaller characters, and this helps paint a vivid mosaic an an interesting story. I enjoyed immensely the romance with Siti, but more than that, the way Siti's character helped explore the issues of racism in the story.

The novel seems to be a stand-alone story, but I got the impression that there could be many more adventures, and I'll eagerly consume anything that comes next; the setting was simply delightful, reminding me of the Bartimeus trilogy in more than one nostalgic occasion.

A Master of Djinn is a perfect read for mystery lovers.

✨ 4 stars

Review: The Councillor, by E.J. Beaton

 

When the death of Iron Queen Sarelin Brey fractures the realm of Elira, Lysande Prior, the palace scholar and the queen’s closest friend, is appointed Councillor. Publically, Lysande must choose the next monarch from amongst the city-rulers vying for the throne. Privately, she seeks to discover which ruler murdered the queen, suspecting the use of magic.
Resourceful, analytical, and quiet, Lysande appears to embody the motto she was raised with: everything in its place. Yet while she hides her drug addiction from her new associates, she cannot hide her growing interest in power. She becomes locked in a game of strategy with the city-rulers – especially the erudite prince Luca Fontaine, who seems to shift between ally and rival.

This Machiavellian debut keeps you on the edge of your seat. E.J. Beaton's The Councillor is full of scheming and politics, with an elegant prose that enriches the experience. The protagonist and sole point of view, Lysande, is an incredibly complex character, a highly competent scholar with a drug addiction, a woman with a few secrets of her own. Over the course of the novel she will also learn the finer points of the art of politics. The tension is built perfectly towards the incredible climax of the novel, where secrets are laid bare and new foundations laid out for what I believe to be the second and last novel of the series.

Magic is feared, and magic users are killed and despised. The world-building is excquisite, with different cultures that are part of the empire expertly and vividly described. There's a true sense of depth, especially when Lysande recalls histories and treatises and also uses them to find hidden thruths.

The characters are all complex and multi-dimensional, with relationships just as complex. The city-rulers shine, but it's also the smaller characters who are depicted perfectly with a few deft strokes. The Iron Queen, dead at the beginning of the novel, had a major part in Lysande's upbringing and is often mentioned, permeating the narrative with her presence. Lysande also has to battle with what the Queen meant for her, and what she did for her country, giving a perfect conflict to the story. I also loved her growing relationship with her new maid, made of fondess, duty, and respect.

This is a queernormative world, so the conflict doesn't come from the romance; in truth, the romance isn't a main focus of the story, though Lysande spends much time thinking about her lovers, past and present, and a mlm romance between two side characters is at the center of a subplot. Lysande is bisexual, and while her past lover is a woman and isn't discarded by the narrative, she's now more focused on pursuing a male lover, or two, each of them with their own agendas.

The Councillor is an excellent first installation, perfect for anyone who wants a cerebral read.

✨ 4 stars

Snippet: This is How You Lose the Time War, by Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone

 

Among the ashes of a dying world, an agent of the Commandant finds a letter. It reads: Burn before reading. Thus begins an unlikely correspondence between two rival agents hellbent on securing the best possible future for their warring factions. Now, what began as a taunt, a battlefield boast, grows into something more. Something epic. Something romantic. Something that could change the past and the future.
Except the discovery of their bond would mean death for each of them. There's still a war going on, after all. And someone has to win that war.

This novella is a love letter. This is How You Lose the Time War, by Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone, needs no introduction; it was vastly acclaimed and it's still an instant classic. The prose is lyrical, intense, grandiose; the plot a mosaic slowly coming together. This book is an experience.

✨ 5 stars

Review: Reforged, by Seth Haddon

 

Since time immemorial the warriors of the Paladin Order have harnessed arcane powers to protect their rulers. For Balen, who has given up his chance at love and fought his way to the top of the Paladin Order, there can be no greater honor than to serve his king. But when assassins annihilate the royal family, Balen suddenly finds himself sworn to serve the very man he abandoned.
Now with their nation threatened by enemies both within and outside the kingdom, Balen must fight hidden traitors and unnatural assassins, while also contending with the biting wit and dangerous charm of young King Zavrius. To save themselves and their nation they will have to put aside their past and reforge that trust they lost so long ago.

This was a treat! Seth Haddon's Reforged is a lovely stand-alone fantasy novel with a tight plot and a steamy romance. Balen is a sympathetic protagonist and his past relationship with his King makes for a good conflict in the first half of the novel. Zavrius is irritating at first, and the way he treats his ex-lover in the beginning is kind of appalling, but he does magic by making music with his instruments and I fully admit that I'm biased towards that kind of thing. As the novel goes on he also opens up about a terrible trauma to Balen, so one can see where the previous behavior was coming from.

The supporting cast is pretty good, varied and fleshed out. I often think that's the supporting cast that makes this kind of novel, because the central relationship is obviously well-developed, but a cast made up of walking cliches ruins everything. This one had two friend-types with surprising hidden depths and two really good characters, the King's aunt and the King's uncle, the both of them with important roles in the palace.

The world is well-developed, with mysterious carcasses of creatures granting magical powers, but not without a price; I liked that the consequences weren't brushed off, but that they had a meaning in the plot. One scene especially, with this gigantic body on the ground, was most lyrical and evocative.

Now, not every decision of the characters makes perfect sense, especially in the second half, where our heroes have to fight against an overthrow of the government. The resolution is pretty abrupt. But the narration manages to tie up everything, which is difficult with this kind of stand-alone novels.

Reforged is a solid fantasy adventure with a good central relationship.

✨ 4 stars

Review: The Queen of Ieflaria, by Effie Calvin

 

Princess Esofi of Rhodia and Crown Prince Albion of Ieflaria have been betrothed since they were children but have never met. At age seventeen, Esofi’s journey to Ieflaria is not for the wedding she always expected but instead to offer condolences on the death of her would-be husband.
But Ieflaria is desperately in need of help from Rhodia for their dragon problem, so Esofi is offered a new betrothal to Prince Albion’s younger sister, the new Crown Princess Adale. But Adale has no plans of taking the throne, leaving Esofi with more to battle than fire-breathing beasts.

I don't think I'll be reading the rest of the series. Effie Calvin's The Queen of Ieflaria is the first in a five-book series that, to my understanding, follows different characters in every book. It's a sweet romance with minimal plot; the book starts in medias res and the threat of dragons feels perfunctory. Esofi's ladies in waiting are walking stereotypes; Esofi's self-righteous and talks about burning down a temple but she's the cute little protagonist and so there's no backlash apart from Adale's perplexed retort. Adale's court is no better, with cartoonish villains and sovereigns that talk like disgruntled parents even during official occasions.

It's still a coherent narrative, and the romance really is very sweet. The writing is good enough to allow an immersive experience. There were long bits about the different kinds of gods and types of worhips, that I suppose are setting up for the other books, and those bits were intriguing, just not enough to make me continue the series. But it's a honest romance with plenty of cute moments.

The Queen of Ieflaria is a nice quick read to pass the time without thinking too much.

✨ 3 stars

Review: Miranda in Milan, by Katharine Duckett

 

After the tempest, after the reunion, after her father drowned his books, Miranda was meant to enter a brave new world. Naples awaited her, and Ferdinand, and a throne. Instead she finds herself in Milan, in her father’s castle, surrounded by hostile servants who treat her like a ghost. Whispers cling to her like spiderwebs, whispers that carry her dead mother’s name. And though he promised to give away his power, Milan is once again contorting around Prospero’s dark arts.
With only Dorothea, her sole companion and confidant to aid her, Miranda must cut through the mystery and find the truth about her father, her mother, and herself.

Full fathom five thy father lies. Katharine Duckett's Miranda in Milan attempts to be a sequel to the fascinating Shakespearean play The Tempest. After arriving in Milan, Miranda finds herself lost in an intricate web of lies with the sole help of one of her maids. The mystery behind the whispers following her everywhere, when solved, is by far the best part of the novella, with an intriguing twist on the classical characters.

The pacing is uneven, likely due to the short format. The relationships between Miranda and Dorothea develops far too quickly, not giving the reader a moment to breathe. But Dorothea is a fascinating character, unwilling to be shackled, and there are particularly good moments where she puts into question Miranda's sheltered worldview, challenging her racism.

Miranda in Milan is a good read for anyone who wants a queer take on the play.

✨ 3.5 stars

Snippet: The Priory of the Orange Tree, by Samantha Shannon

 

The House of Berethnet has ruled Inys for a thousand years. Still unwed, Queen Sabran the Ninth must conceive a daughter to protect her realm from destruction—but assassins are getting closer to her door. Ead Duryan is an outsider at court. Though she has risen to the position of lady-in-waiting, she is loyal to a hidden society of mages. Ead keeps a watchful eye on Sabran, secretly protecting her with forbidden magic. Across the dark sea, Tané has trained all her life to be a dragonrider, but is forced to make a choice that could see her life unravel.
Meanwhile, the divided East and West refuse to parley, and forces of chaos are rising from their sleep.

Lesbians and dragons; what more could you ask? Samantha Shannon's The Priory of the Orange Tree is a high fantasy stand-alone set in a world divided. For some, dragons are holy creatures; for others, they're monsters. The truth is, as ever, complex. The climax resolves perhaps a tiny bit quickly, but the journey is incredible; and the courtly love between two of the protagonists is swoon-worthy. This is a great read if you want something that takes its time to really delve into its world.

✨ 4.5 stars

Snippet: Ash, by Malinda Lo

 

In the wake of her father's death, Ash is left at the mercy of her cruel stepmother. Consumed with grief, her only joy comes by the light of the dying hearth fire, rereading the fairy tales her mother once told her. In her dreams, someday the fairies will steal her away. When she meets the dark and dangerous fairy Sidhean, she believes that her wish may be granted.
The day that Ash meets Kaisa, the King's Huntress, her heart begins to change. Instead of chasing fairies, Ash learns to hunt with Kaisa. Their friendship, as delicate as a new bloom, reawakens Ash's capacity for love--and her desire to live. But Sidhean has already claimed Ash for his own, and she must make a choice between fairy tale dreams and true love.

This isn't the fairy tale you think it is. Malinda Lo's Ash is a lovely retelling of Cinderella that veers half-way through towards a different, exciting direction. But it's also a story about grief, and the romantic relationship is put a bit on the background. The book's pacing is quite slow, but it's not necessarily a bad thing. I have a big soft spot for this book, one of the first explicitly queer books I've ever read.

✨ 4 stars

Review: The Midnight Girls, by Alicia Jasinska

 

It's Karnawał season in the snow-cloaked Kingdom of Lechija, and from now until midnight when the church bells ring an end to Devil's Tuesday time will be marked with wintry balls and glittery disguises, cavalcades of nightly torch-lit "kuligi" sleigh-parties.
Unbeknownst to the oblivious merrymakers, two monsters join the fun, descending upon the royal city of Warszów in the guise of two innocent girls. Newfound friends and polar opposites, Zosia and Marynka seem destined to have a friendship that's stronger even than magic. But that's put to the test when they realize they both have their sights set on Lechija's pure-hearted prince. A pure heart contains immeasurable power and Marynka plans to bring the prince's back to her grandmother in order to prove herself. While Zosia is determined to take his heart and its power for her own.

This was an entertaining read. Alicia Jasinska's The Midnight Girls is intriguing, with three servant girls to three different aspects of Baba Yaga; the novel is stronger when it explores the interpersonal relationships between the three characters. But this slow-paced Young Adult novel ultimately fails to keep up with its good premise, and the romance between two of the servants, while well-developed enough, still feels rushed to the detriment of the whole structure.

The prose is gorgeous, though, and the world is lush and interesting, inspired by Polish history and by its struggle with Russia. I enjoyed the fact that the girls were unapologetically monsters and the villains of the story, but I would have liked their servitude to be explored more. One of the Yaga is underdeveloped and so is her servant, a consequence of the girl being neither a POV character or neither half of the love story. It's a mistake, because she seems to be the stronger character of the three, with a revealed backstory that piqued my interest, but we got only crumbs.

It is a solid book, though; one merely needs to readjust their expectations.

The Midnight Girls has an incredibly good premise but fails to strongly deliver.

✨ 3 stars

Review: A Taste of Gold and Iron, by Alexandra Rowland

 

Kadou, the shy prince of Arasht, finds himself at odds with one of the most powerful ambassadors at court—the body-father of the queen's new child—in an altercation which results in his humiliation.
To prove his loyalty to the queen, his sister, Kadou takes responsibility for the investigation of a break-in at one of their guilds, with the help of his newly appointed bodyguard, the coldly handsome Evemer, who seems to tolerate him at best. In Arasht, where princes can touch-taste precious metals with their fingers and myth runs side by side with history, counterfeiting is heresy, and the conspiracy they discover could cripple the kingdom’s financial standing and bring about its ruin.

It's all about the yearning. Alexandra Rowland's A Taste of Gold and Iron was easily my most anticipated book of the year and oh, it did deliver! This delicious fantasy romance had it all: two well-rounded protagonists, the slowest burn, a good tight-knit plot, and a thorough exploration of consent and power differentials. I truly enjoyed the many discussions of the concept of fealty and the incredible care shown by every character around the protagonists.

It's also always nice to find a queer-normative world where the conflict doesn't come from the queer romance. The counterfeiting plot is resolved quickly and efficiently, as the book focuses more on the romance; it's there where it takes its time, truly exploring the characters' fears and history. Kadou will stay in my heart as an incredibly relatable character suffering from anxiety and not being fixed by the narrative. Evemer is the perfect contrast and I also read him as demisexual; regardless of that being true, I appreciated that his lack of experience seems to be a non-problem. This book also excels with the interpersonal relationships outside of the romance, and I especially liked how the relationship developed with Kadou's old paramour. Evemer's relationship with his mother is incredibly sweet.

The world is well-developed, an intriguing Ottoman-inspired setting that isn't well-understood by the people coming from other countries. I especially enjoyed the figures of the kahyalar, more than mere guards, and the intricate descriptions of their work. I'm a bit sad that the touch-taste isn't fully explored, but the existence of this power also gives way to a truly tender moment towards the end of the book.

In fact, let me get back to this: this novel is incredibly romantic and sensual. There's a million little scenes that show that touch is truly the most important sense in this world; there's hair-brushing and hair-washing and comforting embraces. It's delightful.

A Taste of Gold and Iron is the perfect comfort read for fealty enthusiasts.

✨ 5 stars

Review: The Oleander Sword, by Tasha Suri

 

The prophecy of the nameless god—the words that declared Malini the rightful empress of Parijatdvipa—has proven a blessing and curse. She is determined to claim the throne that fate offered her. But even with the strength of the rage in her heart and the army of loyal men by her side, deposing her brother is going to be a brutal and bloody fight.
The power of the deathless waters flows through Priya’s blood. Thrice born priestess, Elder of Ahiranya, Priya’s dream is to see her country rid of the rot that plagues it: both Parijatdvipa's poisonous rule, and the blooming sickness that is slowly spreading through all living things. But she doesn’t yet understand the truth of the magic she carries.
Their chosen paths once pulled them apart. But Malini and Priya's souls remain as entwined as their destinies. And they soon realize that coming together is the only way to save their kingdom from those who would rather see it burn—even if it will cost them.

This is such an incredible book. Tasha Suri's The Oleander Sword, second volume of The Burning Kingdoms, doesn't suffer at all from second book syndrome. The narrative only gets richer and grows in complexity and scope; the beautiful prose is truly vivid and immersive. The book moves inesorably towards a reckoning of love and sacrifice that left me speechless with its brutality. Suri makes bold choices, but they work perfectly in the context of the world and the story she's telling, a story of misoginy and religion and the choices we make in a war. The divided loyalties of Malini and Priya are the driving force of the book; their two subplots weave in a heartbreaking way towards a catastrophic ending that redefines battle lines.

The love between Priya and Malini is beautiful because it comes despite all odds and neither of them works under the assumption that they can escape their own duties. They're both incredibly multi-faceted protagonists; but it's the whole cast that makes this book, aided by the skillful use of chapters with different point of views, showing us the thoughts and motives of other characters. While a beautiful love story, indeed, this book is first of all a book about war and its costs; about colonialism and the price of religious war. It's an incredibly complex book that hits all its marks perfectly.

The yaksa are the perfect antagonists, utterly alien and terrifying; the descriptions of the unnatural changes they bring about are especially vivid and horrifying. They aren't beholden by mortal laws; they're other, incarnating themselves from outside, and the sparse backstory that is offered is tantalizing and strange. They're cruel, but because of an impersonal disinterest, not out of real malice. On the other side of the spectrum there's Malini's tyrant brother, revealing himself to be a weak man easily manipulated. In the end Suri manages to make you feel for him while also utterly despising him.

The conflict between love and duty is also explored in the ties between Priya and Bhumika, Bhumika and Jeevan, Malini and Aditya, Aditya and Rao; the tapestry of conflicting loyalties is complex and sometimes ruthless.

The Oleander Sword is an excellent sequel that efficiently tears your heart out and stomps on it.

✨ 5 stars

Snippet: Passing Strange, by Ellen Klages

 

San Francisco in 1940 is a haven for the unconventional. Tourists flock to the cities within the city: the Magic City of the World’s Fair on an island created of artifice and illusion; the forbidden city of Chinatown, a separate, alien world of exotic food and nightclubs that offer “authentic” experiences, straight from the pages of the pulps; and the twilight world of forbidden love, where outcasts from conventional society can meet.
Six women find their lives as tangled with each other’s as they are with the city they call home. They discover love and danger on the borders where mystery, science, and art intersect.

There's love in this novella. Ellen Klages' Passing Strange is an interesting exploration of the world of pulp covers and queer nightclubs in the '40s, a discreet tale of magical realism through paper and paint, and a lovely forbidden love story. The build-up is excellent, slow and rich, and the payoff is quick but earned. A delightful and haunting story that can be read over the course of an evening, Passing Strange also won the World Fantasy Award.

✨ 5 stars

Snippet: Kushiel's Dart, by Jacqueline Carey

 

In a kingdom born of angels, Phedre is an anguisette, cursed or blessed to find pleasure in pain. Sold to the Court of Night Blooming Flowers, her fate as a beautiful but anonymous courtesan was sealed. Her bond was purchased by the nobleman Anafiel Delauney, who recognized the scarlet mote in Phedre's eye as the rare mark of one touched by a powerful deity.
Under Delauney's patronage she is trained in history, politics, language, and the use of body and mind as the ultimate weapon of subterfuge in a dangerous game of courtly intrigue. Guided into the bed chambers of Terre D'Ange's most influential nobles, Phedre uncovers a conspiracy against the throne so vast that even her teacher cannot see the whole of it. As her nation is besieged by invading hordes from the north, the most unthinkable threat to her beloved home comes from traitors within.

Love as thou wilt. Jacqueline Carey's Kushiel's Dart is one of the first queer speculative fiction books I've read, and it holds a special place in my heart. The Terre d'Ange ennealogy is a series spanning a hundred years in a rich, evocative world similar to our own, where gods and angels bestow their favor on mortals. Terre d'Ange, our France, is a kingdom where prostitution is an art, a vocation, and is also strictly regulated. The protagonist of Kushiel's Dart, Phèdre, is trained to be a skilled spy and will find herself often in the thick of political intrigue and magical quests. This series is a love letter to love in all its forms.

✨ 5 stars

Review: A Strange and Stubborn Endurance, by Foz Meadows

 

Velasin vin Aaro never planned to marry at all, let alone a girl from neighboring Tithena. When an ugly confrontation reveals his preference for men, Vel fears he’s ruined the diplomatic union before it can even begin. But while his family is ready to disown him, the Tithenai envoy has a different solution: for Vel to marry his former intended’s brother instead.
Caethari Aeduria always knew he might end up in a political marriage, but his sudden betrothal to a man from Ralia, where such relationships are forbidden, comes as a shock.
With an unknown faction willing to kill to end their new alliance, Vel and Cae have no choice but to trust each other. Survival is one thing, but love—as both will learn—is quite another.

This is a story about healing. At the beginning of Foz Meadows's A Strange and Stubborn Endurance the author warns that sexual assault and its aftermath will take center stage in the book, and I urge any potential readers to heed the warning. The sexual assault is recounted graphically, in first person. Following his assault, Velasin is practically hauled towards another country and he has no time to come to terms with the unspeakable violence he was subjected to before finding himself married to another man. He will spend in turmoil a good part of the book, battling against suicide ideation, and attempting to take his own life two times. All this is recounted in first person, and the sensitive reader might find it hard to read.

But it's also a beautiful story of healing. Little by little, Velasin comes to terms with the assault, learning that it doesn't define him and that he also might be able to find love in the unexpected circumstances he finds himself in. Caethari is a compassionate man who immediately decides he'll protect his new husband, no matter what. But Velasin isn't a helpless protagonist, and they dance around each other in an enchanting manner while also trying to solve the murders who begin to take place as soon as Velasin arrived in the Palace. Their delicate story culminates in an achingly attentive love scene that will melt your heart.

In truth, the mystery is where the book falls a little short: with so much focus on our characters' inner turmoil, it was maybe difficult to weave a compelling detective story. The mystery is pretty straightforward - I can tell because I was surprisingly able to clock in on the culprit halfway through, and I normally can't - but I'd argue that the mystery isn't really what the story is about. What we have is a compelling exploration of intimacy and healing and acceptance.

The other relationships explored in the book are just as good. Velasin has a beautiful friendship with his mute valet, whom he saved years before, a relationship of mutual support and understanding. Caethari's family and friends are all welcoming and diverse; their country is completely opposite the strict Ralia, and this clash of cultures makes for an interesting conflict. The world is lush and well-developed; the focus is on two countries alone, but the narrative is sharp for it.

A Strange and Stubborn Endurance is a beautifully written story about overcoming all odds and finding oneself again.

✨ 5 stars

Review: A Mirror Mended, by Alix E. Harrow

 

Zinnia Gray, professional fairy-tale fixer and lapsed Sleeping Beauty, is over rescuing snoring princesses. Once you’ve rescued a dozen damsels and burned fifty spindles, once you’ve gotten drunk with twenty good fairies and made out with one too many members of the royal family, you start to wish some of these girls would just get a grip and try solving their own narrative issues.
Just when Zinnia’s beginning to think she can't handle one more princess, she glances into a mirror and sees another face looking back at her: the shockingly gorgeous face of evil, asking for her help. Because there’s more than one person trapped in a story they didn’t choose. Snow White's Evil Queen has found out how her story ends, and she's desperate for a better ending.

This novella is fun. Alix E. Harrow's A Mirror Mended is the second installment in the Fractured Fables series and is a perfect sequel to the first book, A Spindle Splintered. Years have passed since our protagonist was gifted a second chance at life, and now she's tired of the repetivity of it; she's also pulling away from her friends. Jumping into a different fairy tale than her own makes her better understand agency and helps her rewrite her narrative.

More than in the first installment, this book focuses on its critique of storytelling and villains, showing how the life of a nameless Evil Queen must have gone for her to resort to evil means. The Evil Queen, nicknamed Eva by the protagonist, is a well-rounded character that clashes well with Zinnia; her growth is believable and well-earned.

The romance between the two characters, while tender, comes a bit out of left field. Zinnia's interest is palpable, but Eva responds to the first instance of romantic feelings with shock, unaccustomed to queer desire. I would have liked a more thorough exploration of that hesitancy. But when the fireworks come, the relationship develops beautifully, with fierce moments of protectiveness.

I enjoyed the well-researched narration, touching upon different versions of the tale of Snow White. The writing is also wickedly funny, although it knows when to be more somber.

A Mirror Mended is a lovely second installment, and I can only hope it's not the final book in the series.

✨ 4 stars

Review: The Grief of Stones, by Katherine Addison

 

Celehar’s life as the Witness for the Dead of Amalo grows less isolated as his circle of friends grows larger. He has been given an apprentice to teach, and he has stumbled over a scandal of the city—the foundling girls. Orphans with no family to claim them and no funds to buy an apprenticeship. Foundling boys go to the Prelacies; foundling girls are sold into service, or worse.
At once touching and shattering, Celehar’s witnessing for one of these girls will lead him into the depths of his own losses. The love of his friends will lead him out again.

This book is like a warm embrace. Katherine Addison's The Grief of Stones returns once again to the world where she set her magnificent The Goblin Emperor, but this volume, like the once that came before, doesn't explore the protagonist of that novel but instead a character who appeared there, the Witness for the Dead Thara Celehar. Witnessing means being able to feel a dead person's last moments, and also investigate if something is afoul. Thara is a very contained charachter, something that is accentuated by the first person narration. He is weighed down by a tragic thing in his past, when he was forced to testify against his lover for a crime his lover committed; but he's also a kind character who always does what's right.

This isn't a flashy book; our narrator is very episodic in his recounting of every single day of investigation. But the narration is never boring; every single thing matters, the little connections that are made with other characters, the other little cases that intersperse the bigger investigation. We are accompanied on a journey in a world that comes to life around us, meeting the everyday people, witnessing Thara find friends and connections that love him and care for him. It is, most of all, a healing book; even though the protagonist is put through the ringer in this installation, one can just be sure that his healing journey is on the right track.

I just love the writing. This is a world were language is pretty codified, where people use you for pretty much every interaction, leaving thou only for family and friends; where people use we to talk about themselves. It was pretty jarring in the beginning, but by now it's the third book set in this world, and it's a joy to see characters suddenly using thou to express their feelings.

The book is set in a pretty homophobic world; Thara suffers not only from the grief of his past lover's death, but also from the fear of being discovered. He doesn't seem to want to act on the feelings he seems to be having for another male character, but throughout the book are small scenes of incredible tenderness.

The Grief of Stones is a quiet book that shimmers with hope.

✨ 4 stars

Snippet: The Traitor Baru Cormorant, by Seth Dickinson

 

The Empire of Masks is coming, armed with coin and ink, doctrine and compass, soap and lies. They'll conquer Baru’s island, rewrite her culture, criminalize her customs, and dispose of one of her fathers. But Baru is patient. She'll swallow her hate, prove her talent, and join the Masquerade. She will learn the secrets of empire. She’ll be exactly what they need. And she'll claw her way high enough up the rungs of power to set her people free.
In a final test of her loyalty, the Masquerade will send Baru to bring order to distant Aurdwynn, a snakepit of rebels, informants, and seditious dukes. Aurdwynn kills everyone who tries to rule it. To survive, Baru will need to untangle this land’s intricate web of treachery - and conceal her attraction to the dangerously fascinating Duchess Tain Hu.

This is a violent book. Seth Dickinson's The Traitor Baru Cormorant is a hard book, not for the faint of heart. First book of a trilogy turned quadrilogy, of which only the final volume isn't out yet (and how spasmodically are we waiting for it!), this is a novel that ruthlessly analyzes how far you're willing to go in order to do what needs to be done. This is not a love story, not in the sense one might expect; but it is a story about love. It's a story that doesn't shy away from the horrors of colonialism and eugenetics, that isn't afraid to make you dislike its protagonist and yet love her to pieces. It is not, and I cannot emphasize it enough, a happy story. But it's an exceedingly well written story, set in a world painted with vivid strokes; a real masterpiece.

✨ 5 stars

Snippet: Devotion, by Hannah Kent

 

Prussia, 1836. Hanne is nearly fifteen and the domestic world of womanhood is quickly closing in on her. A child of nature, she yearns instead for the rush of the river, the wind dancing around her. Hanne finds little comfort in the local girls and friendship doesn't come easily, until she meets Thea and she finds in her a kindred spirit and finally, acceptance.
Hanne's family are Old Lutherans, and in her small village hushed worship is done secretly - this is a community under threat. But when they are granted safe passage to Australia, the community rejoices: at last a place they can pray without fear, a permanent home. Freedom.

This book stays with you for a long time. Hannah Kent's Devotion is a delicate, mesmerising tale of love and loss, written with an absolutely stunning prose. The memorable half-way point of the novel veers the story into the more magical aspects that could be surmised from the first half: Hanne has some kind of magical ability, being able to hear the song of nature. In Australia she will find different songs and see her community change and thrive. The doomed love story with Thea strikes a perfect balance between devotion and obsession, showing the lengths we go to in order to stay with our loved ones.

✨ 5 stars

Review: Walk Between Worlds, by Samara Breger

Sergeant Major Scratch Keyes of the King’s Guard is having a bad day.On what should be the biggest night of her life, everything suddenly goes horribly wrong. First, her king denies her the promotion she rightfully earned, as well as the knighthood that goes along with it. And then, when Scratch is wallowing somewhere near the fetid rock bottom, she and her best friend, the flamboyant and carefree Sergeant James Ursus, are arrested for orchestrating the abduction of Princess Frances and sentenced to death. On the whole, things could be better. Luckily, help comes in the form of the mysterious Shae siblings―Vel and Brella―who inform the doomed pair that the issue of the missing Princess is far more complicated than it appears.

This is a short novel done right. Samara Breger's Walk Between Worlds weaves expertly a story of self-discovery and colonialism, perfectly contained. It's light-hearted, but it never shies away from heavier subject matter. Only the ending feels a tiny bit rushed, as if it were setting up for a sequel, but it works well enough on its own.

The world is well described. Our protagonist is a very competent soldier who serves a colonialist kingdom without worrying too much about the consequences, set on finding her own way to the top: she comes from a place that was colonised before her birth, and the road is too set for the citizens of annexed countries, who have few choices in their lives. There's a scene where a character reads aloud the emanated laws, showing how a nebulous phrasing in a written law can mean few people realize what the law is actually saying.

The eponimous "Walk between Worlds" takes place in an enchanted forest where a portal can bring certain people wherever they want. A good chunk of the book is spent inside the forest, teeming with bandits and more supernatural dangers. Fae creatures inhabit the forest, and not all of them are benign; and those who are benign are still alien in their manners and wants. There's a beautiful love story bewteen two of them in the latter half of the book, painting in a few pages a tale of love and loss everlasting.

The relationship between our protagonist and her best friend is lovely and supportive, showing true mlm/wlw solidarity: Scratch loves women and James loves men, and there's a beautiful line of dialogue highlighting their affection for each other. Once the story gets going, both find a love interest. I initially expected Scratch's love interest to be someone else, and was pleasantly surprised to have my expectations subverted. The ensuing love story is tender and challenging at the same time, showing the pair navigating their difficult situation.

Walk Between Worlds is a lovely read for romantics who want to read a low-stakes adventure.

✨ 3.5 stars

Review: Keeper of the Dawn, by Dianna Gunn

 

All Lai has ever wanted is to become a priestess, like her mother and grandmother before her, in service to their beloved goddess. That’s before the unthinkable happens, and Lai fails the trials she has trained for her entire life. She makes the only choice she believes she can: she runs away.
From her isolated desert homeland, Lai rides north to the colder, stranger kingdom of Alanum—a land where magic, and female warriors, are not commonplace.

This is a novella that should have been a novel. Dianna Gunn's Keeper of the Dawn is something that I really think would have benefitted from a longer format. The story feels incomplete: it presents us with the bare bones of what's happening, but not much space is given to the characterization. The protagonist, Lai, goes from point A to point B to point C, and we're told that she's experiencing incredible turmoil, but we don't see it.

And it's really a shame, because the plot is interesting. It's pretty straightforward, but that's not a bad thing: Lai is desperately looking for a place where she belongs. But we don't see the conflict, we don't see an exploration of what she's feeling. Even the world-building is a bit under-developed, with tantalizing tidbitds that I would have loved to see more explored. Questions abound: how and why did Lai's community come to be? Why did they develop such a gruesome way to select their priestesses? What about the neighbor kingdom?

The wlw romance, in the third part, is the saving grace of this novella. While we don't get to see how exactly Lai fell in love with her partner - especially in light of the fact that it's a union that would be strictly forbidden or not talked about in her own community - their love story is explored delicately and with nuance. Lai's asexuality, while not explicitly named in a fantasy world, is exactly that: asexuality, and it doesn't hinder her blossoming romance. It was refreshing to read a sapphic romance with an asexual protagonist who doesn't compromise on her self. It was a lovely exploration that was given enough space inside the narrative.

Keeper of the Dawn isn't an excellent speculative book, but it's a lovely romance with an asexual protagonist.

✨ 3 stars

Snippet: The Misadventures of an Amateur Naturalist, by Ceinwen Langley

 

Aspiring young naturalist Celeste Rossan is determined to live a life of adventure and scientific discovery. But when her father loses everything, Celeste’s hopes of ever leaving her home town are dashed… until she sees a narrow opportunity to escape to Paris and attend the 1867 Exposition Universelle.
Celeste seizes her chance, but the elements overwhelm her before she can make it five miles. In desperation, she seeks refuge in an abandoned chateau only to find herself trapped inside the den of an unknown species: a predator with an intelligence that rivals any human. It’s the discovery of a lifetime. Or, it will be, if Celeste can earn the beast’s trust without losing her nerve – or her heart – to her in the process.

'Tis a tale as old as time. Ceinwen Langley's The Misadventures of an Amateur Naturalist is a delightful sapphic retelling of The Beauty and the Beast. Celeste, our Belle, is an aspiring naturalist and she dreams of being taken on as apprentice. The first half of the book deals mainly with the sudden shattering of her dreams and how she has to navigate a new situation. She's a very likeable character, resourceful and witty. Once she reaches the den of the Beast, she's full of scientific curiosity and doesn't let the Beast scare her. The Beast, too, is a well rounded, compelling character with an interesting past. The ending is fairly contained, but the book is apparently going to be part of a series.

✨ 4 stars

Snippet: Time Was, by Ian McDonald

 

In the heart of World War II, Tom and Ben became lovers. Brought together by a secret project designed to hide British targets from German radar, the two founded a love that could not be revealed. When the project went wrong, Tom and Ben vanished into nothingness, presumed dead. Their bodies were never found.
Now the two are lost in time, hunting each other across decades, leaving clues in books of poetry and trying to make their disparate timelines overlap.

I read this in 2019, so bear with me, friends. Ian McDonald's Time Was is a beautiful time-travel story, and a romance for the ages. The blurb is a bit misleading and also spoilery; the book is less of a straight narrative and more of a mystery where a historian slowly unravels what happened. The focus is mostly on the historian. I can see how others might feel deceived, because one might expect, well, what it says on the tin; on the other hand, I just die for this kind of framing device, so if you're like me I guarantee you'll enjoy this book.

✨ 5 stars

Review: Her Majesty's Royal Coven, by Juno Dawson

 

At the dawn of their adolescence, on the eve of the summer solstice, four young girls--Helena, Leonie, Niamh and Elle--took the oath to join Her Majesty's Royal Coven, established by Queen Elizabeth I as a covert government department. Now, decades later, the witch community is still reeling from a civil war and Helena is now the reigning High Priestess of the organization. Yet Helena is the only one of her friend group still enmeshed in the stale bureaucracy of HMRC. Elle is trying to pretend she's a normal housewife, and Niamh has become a country vet, using her powers to heal sick animals. In what Helena perceives as the deepest betrayal, Leonie has defected to start her own more inclusive and intersectional coven, Diaspora. And now Helena has a bigger problem. A young warlock of extraordinary capabilities has been captured by authorities and seems to threaten the very existence of HMRC. With conflicting beliefs over the best course of action, the four friends must decide where their loyalties lie: with preserving tradition, or doing what is right.

This isn't just a witchy tale. Juno Dawson's Her Majesty's Royal Coven is brimming with discussions of gender and intersectionality that enrich the narration and make it a unique story. The major conflict of the story reveals itself at the halfway point, turning an already interesting storyline about fate and fatalism into a heartfelt defense of the right to be what we are. I won't name the transgender character because their identity isn't mentioned in the summary and the story is constructed in such a way to make it an earth-shattering reveal, but I have to note that I had accidentally spoiled myself and yet that knowledge made the experience of reading the first half much more poignant.

The once tight-knit group of friends at the center of the narration is made up of well-rounded, flawed characters. Their relationship is at times fraught, but always bound by the shared trauma of a past war which is very much still present, simmering in the background and sometimes steering their choices. Of the four named in the summary, Helena and Niamh take pretty much center stage, their actions driving the book to its brutal conclusion. One could hope the other two will feature much more in the next book: Elle's side-plot has some thorny complexities; Leonie's coven needs to be fleshed out more. Leonie's wlw relationship also took the backseat against the focused plot. But there were tender moments, and conflict, and it seems to be setting up for a bigger spotlight.

I must warn that the narrative is firmly set in our present. Something in the summary made me think it would be set in the past, and I saw I wasn't the only reader thinking that, so it bears warning. I loved the backstory, the history of the coven going back to Elizabeth I and her mother. I'm definitely biased because I love Elizabeth I, but it seemed like the perfect starting point for the narrative. The book also strongly reminds me of the Freeform series Motherland: Fort Salem, which is a plus as far as I'm concerned.

The book features a transphobic character who is pretty vocal about their hate, so one should proceed with caution.

Her Majesty's Royal Coven is a moving journey that isn't afraid to pull any punches.

✨ 4 stars

Review: Spear, by Nicola Griffith

 

The girl knows she has a destiny before she even knows her name. She grows up in the wild, in a cave with her mother, but visions of a faraway lake come to her on the spring breeze, and when she hears a traveler speak of Artos, king of Caer Leon, she knows that her future lies at his court.
And so, brimming with magic and eager to test her strength, she breaks her covenant with her mother and, with a broken hunting spear and mended armour, rides on a bony gelding to Caer Leon. On her adventures she will meet great knights and steal the hearts of beautiful women. She will fight warriors and sorcerers. And she will find her love, and the lake, and her fate.

Nicola Griffith's Spear is a queer Arthurian retelling following a young woman on her journey of self-discovery. The lyrical prose and the attention to historical detail make this tale a must read for any enjoyer of stories about King Arthur. The protagonist, Peretur, leaves her home in search of a bigger destiny, plagued by dreams that lead her straight to the Arthurian court. There she'll fulfill her destiny, and find love.

The clever intermingling of history and myth leaves the reader breathless and aching to take a course on the Matter of Britain, a resolution only magnified by Griffith's thoughtful foreword where she lays out all the different versions she was inspired by. This book is obviously a labor of love for the subject, and it's contagious.

Peretur's origins were what really sold the book for me: getting to slowly unravel the mystery alongside her was a treat. Her romance was a touch underdeveloped and sudden, but it had a dream-like quality that worked in the context of the story.

I need to say a few words about the lovely interior illustrations by Rovina Cay, the cover artist: they are incredibly evocative and they enrich the reading experience.

Spear is a fascinating tale that deserves to be on everyone's bookshelves.

✨ 4 stars

Review: Misrule, by Heather Walter

 

Feared and despised for the sinister power in her veins, Alyce wreaks her revenge on the kingdom that made her an outcast. Once a realm of decadence and beauty, Briar is now wholly Alyce’s wicked domain. And no one will escape the consequences of her wrath. Not even the one person who holds her heart.
Princess Aurora saw through Alyce’s thorny facade, earning a love that promised the dawn of a new age. But it is a love that came with a heavy price: Aurora now sleeps under a curse that even Alyce’s vast power cannot seem to break. And the dream of the world they would have built together is nothing but ash.

Vengeance can't be everything. While the first book in the duology, Malice, is simply a compelling retelling of the story of Sleeping Beauty, the second book deals with the aftermath. Heather Walter's Misrule asks heavy questions: what happens after you exact revenge for everything they did to you? How much can you push until it only becomes an endless cycle of violence? Is there any way to stop? Alyce, now called Nimara, spends a century lost in the need of taking revenge against those who wronged her and her people, saving Goblins and Vilas and making the fae pay the ultimate price. There's nothing to keep her in check until Aurora awakens, and the princess ends up acting as a moral compass of sorts. Aurora isn't happy with the changes within Alyce, especially those she feels are only caused by the darker presence buried deep inside Alyce. Aurora knows that the status quo couldn't remain the same, but she doesn't think that endless violence is the answer.

This conflict is at the heart of Misrule, showing a constant pull between what is easy and what is right. The question whether Alyce and Aurora will finally overcome their differences and get back together is almost in the background, and it's a good thing. Obviously the matter is at the forefront of Alyce's mind, but it's also shadowed by the core conflict. The resolution, too, to this clash of values is beautiful. Forgiveness takes time, and rightly so.

The world, which was fairly circumscribed in the first book, here takes on new depths. We meet all manners of new fae species, and the past is more explored. I found especially well done the inner conflict Alyce experiences when faced with the Shifters, reminding her of the betrayal she suffered in the first book. This wariness mirrors her fear of accessing that very same part of herself, and it's fitting that part of the resolution is exactly making her peace with it.

The new characters shine, but it's an old one that I find especially fascinating. The Grace who used to torment Alyce - and whom I would have loved to see redeemed - here takes a sharp turn towards villainy, but it's still a turn that makes sense with the character, and with what she suffered over a whole century. While I didn't like her ending, I appreciated how it reinforced the deeper point about revenge being an endless cycle.

All in all, Misrule is a solid conclusion to the duology, with an ending more complex than I expected.

✨ 3.5 stars