In a city clinging to light during an age of darkness, all healer Ophelia wants is for a Saint to finally claim her. Since being brought to Lumendei as an orphan nearly thirty years ago, she’s worked tirelessly to prove herself worthy of the Mysteries—the sacred, magical power that only the Saints can bestow upon mortals of their choosing. When she’s tasked with caring for an injured prisoner, Ophelia sees the perfect way to prove she’s ready for her Sainting. The prisoner is none other than the Umbra Knight—the most dangerous warrior of Lumendei’s sworn enemy, the Sepulchyre. If she can save the Umbra Knight’s soul by converting her to the Church of the Host, the Saints will surely fight amongst themselves to claim Ophelia.
But the disarmingly beautiful and undeniably deadly knight’s soul is in even worse shape than Ophelia feared. In fact, she insists Ophelia’s beloved God is a murderous liar and her adopted city is built on blackened bones. It’s easy to dismiss as blasphemy, at least at first. Until Lumendei’s gilded secrets begin to tumble from their hiding places and Ophelia herself uncovers a conspiracy ... then she’s forced to consider the idea that Nyatrix—otherwise known as the Umbra Knight—might be telling the truth, and that saving the alluring knight’s soul is the least of her concerns.
"Can a god so eager to punish you truly love you?"
Victoria Mier's Holy Wrath is a sapphic romantasy focused on religious trauma and bodily autonomy. As such, it's teeming with trigger warnings (chief amongst them, a very graphic flogging scene and attempted rape) and should be approached with caution. The issues are treated with care and respect, but might still be upsetting to read.
The religious trauma is based upon a pretty clear stand-in for Catholic religion, with a Jesus-like figure and Catholic imagery that are rotten behind the veneer of respectability. It's not just an issue of patriarchy, although that aspect is certainly present, but the very core of the religion is corrupted. The first half of the novel is especially crude and horrifying in that regard, as we follow the only PoV, a thirty-years-old woman who has lived in the church for most of her life and is indoctrinated to see all the abuse as just and normal. Fortunately she appears to be having doubts even some time before the gorgeous and deadly enemy captain makes her appearance and starts to awaken in her desires she has been denying all her life because of the rampant homophobia the church exhibits.
The second half of the book loses some of the shine, as secrets are revealed and we fall into more action and a relatively deus-ex-machina resolution that still brings the point of the novel across. The world-building would have benefitted from more attention, though, especially after such a stellar first part. On the romance side, Ophelia and Nyatrix work as perfect opposites, but the dismantling of Ophelia's religious trauma feels very sudden, brought forth basically by the joys of sex. While that is a powerful statement, maybe the book would have benefitted from some more back and forth in that regard, as Ophelia changes much in very little time.
On the other hand, the book excels in the exploration of Ophelia's disability and how it has controlled every aspect of her life while making her seen as defective. In contrast to the church's view, Nyatrix treats her with respect, and those passages on bodily autonomy are particularly poignant.
Holy Wrath is a gorgeous standalone exploration of trauma.
✨ 4 stars
No comments:
Post a Comment