Review: This Vicious Hunger, by Francesca May

 

Thora Grieve finds herself destitute and an outcast after the sudden death of her husband only a few weeks into their marriage, but a glimmer of hope arrives when a family friend offers her spot at a university to study botany under a famed professor. Once at the university Thora becomes entranced by a mysterious young woman, Olea, who emerges each night to tend to the plants in the professor's private garden.
Thora soon discovers that a mysterious illness prevents Olea from leaving the garden. Hungry for connection, Thora befriends Olea through the garden gate and their relationship quickly and intensely blossoms. The visceral connection between Thora and Olea unlocks an obsessive desire in Thora as she throws herself into finding a cure for Olea's ailment. But is this really love or is it merely lustful intoxication? Thora's finally found the freedom to pursue her deepest desires, but at what cost?

"Nobody liked to be reminded of the proximity of grief; least of all the young and beautiful." 

Francesca May's This Vicious Hunger is a sapphic gothic horror novel about grief and finding one’s place as a woman in a world where women can do very little, and about overcoming abuse. The themes are very strong and the writing beautifully lyrical, but the plot is all over the place while slowly ambling, and the characters are a bit cardboard, with the sole exception of the narrator. 

The worldbuilding is confusing, using Latin and some imagery that makes it seem like it's a historical novel, but some other things point towards a secondary world. That being so unclear pulls the reader out.

The most intriguing part is certainly the focus on plants and a form of vampirism, but the abrupt end and the lack of closure doesn't do it any favors.

This Vicious Hunger doesn't hold up to its premise.

✨ 3 stars

 

Review: Wild and Wicked Things, by Francesca May

 

On Crow Island, people whisper, real magic lurks just below the surface. Neither real magic nor faux magic interests Annie Mason. Not after it stole her future. She’s only on the island to settle her late father’s estate and, hopefully, reconnect with her long-absent best friend, Beatrice, who fled their dreary lives for a more glamorous one. Yet Crow Island is brimming with temptation, and the biggest one may be her enigmatic new neighbor. Mysterious and alluring, Emmeline Delacroix is a figure shadowed by rumors of witchcraft. And when Annie witnesses a confrontation between Bea and Emmeline at one of the island's extravagant parties, she is drawn into a glittering, haunted world. A world where the boundaries of wickedness are tested, and the cost of illicit magic might be death.

'Tis the season of Great Gatsby retellings. Much like last year's The Chosen and the Beautiful by Nghi Vo, Wild and Wicked Things by Francesca May is marketed as a queer, witchy take on the American classic - but I fail to see the parallels. Yes, the story is set in the appropriate time period, there's a house whose owner is mysterious enough, they're on an island, and wild parties abound. But the similarities, I think, end there. That said, the book is delightful. It works best if one doesn’t think too hard about the supposed inspiration and simply lets the story speak for itself. It’s a packed adventure that isn’t afraid to take its time; every beat serves its purpose, even in its moments of stillness.

First and foremost, it’s a book about sisterhood and the bonds we form in a traumatic setting. The relationship between Emmeline and her longtime companions is deep and heartbreaking. The friendship between Annie and Beatrice, shadowed by a tragic loss, is no less compelling. This is a book with deeply flawed characters, which can be a risk, but Francesca May manages to strike a balance. Emmeline in particular was fascinating, a study in contrasts, although I would have liked her gender nonconformity to be more explored.

This is a dark novel with dark themes, abuse and sexual assault among them; Emmeline uses sacrificial blood magic, and such magic has a price.

I found the romance not as developed as I would have liked; then again, with such a packed plot, it might be expected. The mutual fascination between Emmeline and Annie is explored, but I got the feeling that it wouldn’t have taken that form if not for their link.

What I really loved was Annie’s journey; seeing her coming into her own and realizing her queerness, in every sense of the word, and accepting herself.

✨ 3.5 stars