Review: A Treachery of Swans, by A.B. Poranek

 

Raised by a sorcerer, Odile has spent years preparing for the heist of a lifetime. It’s perfectly simple. Impersonate a princess, infiltrate the palace, steal the king's enchanted crown and restore magic to the kingdom. 
But when the King is unexpectedly murdered, she’s forced to recruit the help of Marie d'Odette, the real princess, and the two begin to unravel a web of lies and deceit that leaves Odile uncertain of who to trust. Soon though Odile must decide – her mission or the girl she’s falling for?

"Power comes with a price, but it also comes with promise."

A.B. Poranek's A Treachery of Swans is a sapphic YA retelling of Swan Lake, a fanciful murder mystery with a gothic feel. I would have been obsessed with this as a young girl, but the writing and intended audience is a bit juvenile. Still, it's a compelling journey for an adult reader. Narrated entirely from the point of view of Odile, foil and antagonist from the ballet, this novel gives her some much needed depth and gives a fresh new perspective to Tchaikovsky's story, using bits and pieces from the many versions of the ballet. The author has done their research, and it shows, but the story doesn't match completely the tragic vibes of the ballet.

In a world where golden-blooded people are shunned for their affinity with a magic whose misuse has thrown the kingdom into chaos, Odile does everything her father tells her in order to restore magic and thus find her own place. A witty actress and a vicious thief, Odile once struck a friendship with her mark Marie d'Odette, and it's her now that she has to impersonate to deceive and marry the prince, but she finds herself drawn into a conspiracy where nothing is as it seems at first. Her relationship with Odette, who appears rarely in the first half of the novel, grows from the roots of what they once were for each other, from a moment that still fills Odile with shame. Their slow-burn romance is sweet. In a book where everyone just aches to belong, Odette is her perfect counterpart, warm and kind and wounded, but also made of steel. The character work in this is superb, especially Odile's slow realization of her own worth and her reckoning with an abusive parental figure.

The decision to have a French-inspired court and terms works, lending to the dreamy, soft atmosphere, reading like a court tale from Seventeenth Century France. There's a hint of the Phantom of the Opera, too, in the lake and the masked villain - which also comes from Tchaikovsky, of course, as the imagery of the owl. The fantasy aspects blend well, weaving a tale of revenge, magic, and a journey of self-acceptance. The explosive ending is followed by an abrupt epilogue that is still enough athmospheric to work, but it takes away a bit of the brilliance.

The supporting cast does the work. Odile's father, of course, is a grandiose antagonist, while the Dauphin gets some more depth too, adding to the bare bones of Tchaikovsky's Prince Siegfried. There's also a hint of an achillean relationship, which adds to the tension somewhat, but it's woefully underdeveloped. Odile's brother is a welcome addition.

A Treachery of Swans is the Swan Lake sapphic retelling I've been waiting for two decades.

✨ 4 stars

 

😈👩🏻 So you want to read a sapphic villain retelling?

Here's my review of Heather Walter's Misrule  

Review: The Hymn to Dionysus, by Natasha Pulley

Raised in a Greek legion, Phaidros has been taught to fight for the homeland he’s never seen and to follow his commander’s orders at all costs. But when he rescues a baby from a fire at Thebes’s palace, his commander’s orders cease to make sense: Phaidros is forced to abandon the blue-eyed boy at a temple, and to keep the baby’s existence a secret. Years later, after a strange encounter that led to the death of his battalion, Phaidros has become a training master for young soldiers. He struggles with panic attacks and flashbacks, and he is not the only one: all around him, his fellow veterans are losing their minds.
Phaidros’s risk of madness is not his only problem: his life has become entangled with Thebes’s young crown prince, who wishes to escape the marriage his mother, the Queen, has chosen for him. When the prince vanishes, Phaidros is drawn into the search for him—a search that leads him to a blue-eyed witch named Dionysus, whose guidance is as wise as the events that surround him are strange. In Dionysus’s company, Phaidros witnesses sudden outbursts of riots and unrest, and everywhere Dionysus goes, rumors follow about a new god, one sired by Zeus but lost in a fire.

"We don’t last long, but our stories do."

Natasha Pulley's The Hymn to Dionysus is, in perfect Pulley fashion, a pointed novel about grief, memory, and identity, a reflection on PTSD and love, and a labirintine narration that draws you in, confuses you, enchants you, and leaves you begging for more. Pulley's distinctive voice is a soothing caress, mesmerising and hypnothising, as she tackles Greek Mythology with a deft hand and creates a new story that feels like the myth. Her Dionysus is a feral and uncanny creature, an ancient and curious god, kind and terrible.

The sole narrator, Phaidros, finds himself earning Dionysus' attention from a very young age. A vicious soldier and a polyglot, widowed of his guardian and commander, he is suicidal and compelled by duty and honor. He's the quintessential Pulley protagonist, and yes, she definitely has a niche, but what she does with her niche works everytime, like beautiful clockwork. This book has an intricate plot, with twists and turns that weren't predictable even by knowing the actual myths, and it meanders gently, pulling you by your hand, slowly unraveling madness and knowledge and freedom.

The relationship between Phaidros and the strange witch he suspects from the start of being a god develops beautifully, with moments of terrible tenderness and others that are heartbreaking. Phaidros' internal monologue paints him as a desperate, grieving man who can't find in himself to believe he's worthy of anything anymore, dealing with staggering loss and with the sudden duties he takes on because he has to. Slowly he'll learn to find value in himself, all while battling with a draught that threatens to kill all and with a supernatural madness taking on soldiers, as well as with a dynastic crisis.

The author did her research into history and myth, and it shows with her usage of greek words and historical references and with her deft threading of her own special Pulley-ness into the mythological tapestry. Her usage of language and etymology is as always superb, as is her particular kind of magical realism. This book has mask magic and bronze marvels that might or might not be inhabited by gods, and her inclusion of the blind prophet Thiresias in a new and fresh way is handled with grace. The major female character is handled with the usual depth and narrative cruelty. It should feel trite, but despite this, her women are always vibrant and never dulled down, and that is the saving grace.

The Hymn to Dionysus is a marvelous piece of art.

✨ 5 stars

Snippet: The Raven Tower, by Ann Leckie

For centuries, the kingdom of Iraden has been protected by the god known as the Raven. He watches over his territory from atop a tower in the powerful port of Vastai. His will is enacted through the Raven's Lease, a human ruler chosen by the god himself. His magic is sustained via the blood sacrifice that every Lease must offer. And under the Raven's watch, the city flourishes. But the power of the Raven is weakening. A usurper has claimed the throne. The kingdom borders are tested by invaders who long for the prosperity that Vastai boasts. And they have made their own alliances with other gods.
It is into this unrest that the warrior Eolo--aide to Mawat, the true Lease--arrives. And in seeking to help Mawat reclaim his city, Eolo discovers that the Raven's Tower holds a secret. Its foundations conceal a dark history that has been waiting to reveal itself...and to set in motion a chain of events that could destroy Iraden forever.

“Perhaps, long or short, it mattered how one spent that time.”

Ann Leckie's The Raven Tower is an excellent standalone Hamlet-inspired novel with a twist about manipulative and manipulated gods. It features fascinating mythology and magic system, and a beautiful usage of the second person narration. The narrator is a delight, going on with patience about the past and the present and the power of language and stories, and about finally caring for someone. The novel explores themes of imperialism, power, and personal identity, the latter especially through the eyes of the ostensible main character, a transgender man named Eolo, whose gender is not what the story is about, but rather his gender is an important part of his identity that informs his decision-making and emotions and his relationships with several other characters. This books is a gem that I, for one, certainly intend to reread, as I read it upon publication.

✨ 5 stars

Review: Mal, by Perla Zul

Once upon a time, Mal was a spinster who could weave magic into his thread. Hired by the royal family, he met the young prince and the two became inseparable. But when the two attempted to save the kingdom, Mal was the only one to pay the price. He wakes up from a hundred year sleep with a body made of thorns and roses, his prince having never returned for him. Now, when that same kingdom he saved doesn't invite him to celebrate the birth of the princess, Mal brings his own gift...

"In the same way you'd love a flower, love yourself with that same power."

Perla Zul's Mal is a delightful novella retelling of The Sleeping Beauty, with a twist: Mal himself was victim of a sleeping curse, and as such bestows the same gift to the baby princess descended from the king of the realm he tried to save. He'll need to learn to let go of regret and resentment, and to love himself. As the hundred years of the princess' curse go by, we witness him grow and find friendship and love.

The novella has a strong fairy tale feel; the time jumps and the leaps of logic, which are very hit-or-miss in more straighforward stories, here work because of the dream-like quality of the narration. It really reads like an old story, sweet and magical. This effect also comes from the writing decision to have almost all dialogue rhyme, which is absolutely delightful, but it might not be for everyone. I know I loved it so much that I was grinning everytime a character spoke.

The characters' development is mostly off-screen, but again, given the strong fairy-tale feel that the author is going for, this works. The cast is a delight, with seven fairies who take Mal under their wings, and the fantastic character of the princess, and the prince destined to wake her up. We know how the original story goes, but we might be surprised by the fresh take of this retelling and by the narrative, circular direction.

Mal is a delightful retelling.

✨ 4 stars

Snippet: Until the Last Petal Falls, by Viano Oniomoh

When Eru was eleven years old, he met an unforgettable boy.Only a few weeks after, he forgot all about that boy. Ten years later, after his parents’ sudden deaths, all Eru wants is to find a way out of the village he was supposed to leave behind, and escape the abuse of his grieving grandmother. When he receives a summons from Able Mummy, the wife of the High Chief, it seems all of his prayers have been answered.
Able Mummy needs his help. But she and the High Chief have a secret. Once Eru uncovers the truth, he finds that the fate of the village, and that of the boy he’d been made to forget, could lie solely in his hands.

“Choose to live.”

Viano Oniomoh's Until the Last Petal Falls is a sweet queerplatonic retelling of Beauty and the Beast set in present-day Nigeria, a cozy novella featuring Nigerian folklore, many pop culture references, and a lovely exploration of the blossoming bond between two young men who are both aroace. The book races through their relationship, making it difficult to really care about them, especially with many developments being off-screen. It's still a sweet read, a perfect palate cleanser.

✨ 3 stars

Review: Legend of the White Snake, by Sher Lee

When Prince Xian was a boy, a white snake bit his mother and condemned her to a slow, painful death. The only known cure is an elusive spirit pearl—or an antidote created from the rare white snake itself. Desperate and determined, Xian travels to the city of Changle, where an oracle predicted he would find and capture a white snake. In Changle, Xian encounters an enigmatic but beautiful stable boy named Zhen. The two are immediately drawn to each other, but Zhen soon realizes that he is the white snake Xian is hunting. As their feelings grow deeper, will the truth about Zhen’s identity tear them apart?

"Destiny is an excuse people give not to fight for what they really want in life."

Sher Lee's Legend of the White Snake is an achillean YA retelling of a chinese story about a snake spirit who can take a human form. It's a fresh retelling, keeping some beats of the original story while giving it its own spin. The relationship between the snake and the prince feels very much like insta-love, but it works in the context of it being a retelling, and the two main characters face enough development that that doesn't feel like a problem.

At first the characters feel a bit mono-dimensional, but they are given time to breathe and are explored more. Filial love is explored, and so is piety. The final third, with its twists and turns, felt very fast, but not too much.

This novel is very precise in describing a multitude of cultural aspects, from how to walk in and out of a temple to the different ways of dressing. It feels like a tame introduction to more famous and definitely more explicit danmei novels, which isn't inherently a bad thing.

Legend of the White Snake is a lovely read.

✨ 3.5 stars

Review: Lucy Undying, by Kiersten White

Her name was written in the pages of someone else's story: Lucy Westenra was one of Dracula's first victims. But her death was only the beginning. Lucy rose from the grave a vampire, and has spent her immortal life trying to escape from Dracula's clutches--and trying to discover who she really is and what she truly wants. Her undead life takes an unexpected turn when, in twenty-first-century London, she meets another woman who is also yearning to break free from her past. Iris’s family has built a health empire based on a sinister secret, and they’ll do anything to stay in power.
Lucy has long believed she would never love again. But she finds herself compelled by the charming Iris, while Iris is mesmerized by the confident and glamorous Lucy. But their intense connection and blossoming love is threatened by forces from without. Iris's mother won't let go of her without a fight, and Lucy's past still has fangs: Dracula is on the prowl again. Lucy Westenra has been a tragically murdered teen, a lonesome adventurer, and a fearsome hunter, but happiness always eluded her. Can she find the strength to destroy Dracula once and for all, or will her heart once again be her undoing?

"We're mausoleums, holding the girls we were with tenderness, and love, and strength."

Kiersten White's Lucy Undying is a sapphic and feminist retelling of Dracula, told through the perspective of Lucy Westenra and spanning one hundred and fifty years. There are two timelines; one set in the present, where a young woman escaping a cult finds young Lucy's diary, detailing her version of the Dracula novel, and the other detailing the years after the end of the Dracula novel, with Lucy searching for meaning, for Dracula, and for herself. The two storylines converge into a soft sapphic romance and an explosive ending where a conspiracy is unearthed and dealt with.

This is a novel about sapphic yearning, finding your true self, forgiving yourself, and the struggle against patriarchy. It's also a radical retelling of some core aspects of the original novel, and staunch fans of the book might not appreciate those changes, but they work in the context of this story, and make for an interesting perspective. The way these changes are tied to the present storyline works well enough, turning the book into a kind of thriller.

The final third of the book loses the balance of the first two thirds a little, as the cult storyline takes precedence and a new PoV is added in the form of short glimpses into the mind of a predator. Almost like in Dracula, the author plays a lot with different kinds of narrative styles, employing first person narration, second person, letters and texts, a third person section, and bits that read a little like Anne Rice's Interview with the Vampire. This might feel chaotic at first, but it's handled deftly enough.

The book shines with the vividly painted vampires Dracula created over the years, especially three figures that return again and again in Lucy's tale, and gives justice and agency to Lucy, painting the tragedy of being a young woman trapped by societal rules. Her journey is really the focal point of the novel, while also portraying the trappings of modern day cult-like organizations.

Lucy Undying is a sumptuous retelling.

✨ 4 stars

Review: Countess, by Suzan Palumbo

Virika Sameroo lives in colonized space under the Æerbot Empire, much like her ancestors before her in the British West Indies. After years of working hard to rise through the ranks of the empire’s merchant marine, she’s finally become first lieutenant on an interstellar cargo vessel.
When her captain dies under suspicious circumstances, Virika is arrested for murder and charged with treason despite her lifelong loyalty to the empire. Her conviction and subsequent imprisonment set her on a path to justice, determined to take down the evil empire that wronged her, all while the fate of her people hangs in the balance.

"Success or perish."

Suzan Palumbo's Countess is a Caribbean sci-fi retelling of The Count of Montecristo, an anti-colonial novella that takes the beloved character of Edmond Dantes and makes him a queer immigrant woman on a quest for revenge. Set in an inter-galactic Empire, the book follows the classic's plot pretty closely, giving it its own spin and exploring well the themes of homophobia, racism and colonialism.

The low page number doesn't do the story any favors, picking up speed and summarily summarising plot points that should have been given time to breathe. This is especially true in the second half, where the main character barrels through scene after scene after finding a crew of rebels. The heightened finale, though heart-breaking, doesn't fully work because we didn't have the time to truly appreciate the characters.

Countess is an ambitious experiment.

✨ 3.5 stars

Review: The End Crowns All, by Bea Fitzgerald

Princess. Priestess. The most beautiful girl in Troy. Cassandra is used to being adored – and when her patron god, Apollo, offers her the power of prophecy, she sees an opportunity to rise even higher. But when she fails to uphold her end of the agreement, she discovers just how very far she has to fall. No one believes her visions. And they all seem to be of one girl – and the war she’s going to bring to Troy’s shores.
Helen fled Sparta in pursuit of love, but it’s soon clear Troy is a court like any other, with all its politics and backstabbing. And one princess seems particularly intent on driving her from the city before disaster can strike... But when war finally comes, it’s more than the army at their walls they must contend with. Cassandra and Helen might hold the key to reweaving fate itself – especially with the prophetic strands drawing them ever closer together. But how do you change your future when the gods themselves are dictating your demise?

"We should not tell stories of the heroes, but of the women who survived them."

Bea Fitzgerald's The End Crowns All is a lovely retelling of the Iliad, seen through the eyes of the women who suffered during the Trojan War, with a special focus on the two main characters, Cassandra and Helen. Their dual POV narration explores the events of the war and what came before, following closely enough the epic poem, until it starts veering towards a kinder, more hopeful ending. Cassandra, Helen, and the women of Troy reclaim their agency, taking matters into their hands and fighting against a future that isn't set in stone, no matter what prophecies say.

Cassandra and Helen steadily grow closer as their inital emnity, caused by the fact that Cassandra sees the downfall of Troy, turns into an alliance and then affection blooms between them. The book features such an in-depth, lovely, careful rendition of asexuality, and especially sapphic asexuality, and it's a joy to read how Cassandra comes to terms with her orientation, and finds love in the unlikeliest place. It's lovely, too, to see romantic love equated to all other kinds - friendship, familial - and not treated as the most important kind of love. Cassandra finds a partner, yes, but she also finds companionship, and people who care about her for who she is.

The conditions of women at the times is thoroughly explored, from forced marriage to kidnapping and the consequences of war. I adored how the grim epilogue of the Iliad is tamed and conquered, giving new meaning to the saying "history is written by the victors." The exploration of the changes one can make to the threads of fate makes for a compelling story, and the complexity of Apollo's curses, and the way Cassandra and Helen try to navigate each change, adds conflict in a believable way.

The book deals very well with treaths of sexual violence, not one to sugarcoat it despite the younger audience. It's marketed as a YA, and it shows especially in the kind of language used and the simple narration, but it's readable by an adult audience. Apollo is every bit the villain of the story, wanting to own and terrorize Cassandra for the crime of spurning him, but Aphrodite is a close second, her threats to Helen bone-chilling.

The End Crowns All is a remarkable retelling.

✨ 4 stars

ARC Review: The Saint of Heartbreak, by Morgan Dante

After his betrayal with a kiss, Judas Iscariot dies in despair and goes to Hell. When Christ saves other souls during the Harrowing of Hell, he leaves Judas behind—but not alone in the ninth circle, where the most detestable traitors go. Callous, resigned, and abandoned by God long ago, the Devil sees Judas as a pathetic wretch, but he soon finds a kindred spirit. As the centuries pass, they struggle to find even a sliver of happiness in Hell. Doomed by the narrative, will they find happiness, or will their story continue to be a tragedy?

My thanks to the author for providing an ARC copy.

Morgan Dante's The Saint of Heartbreak is a story some might find blasphemous, but at its core, it's a story about finding companionship in the direst circumstances, and finding forgiveness within oneself. The first chapters, depicting events from the New Testament, set quickly the scene, introducing the reader to Judas through the eyes of Yeshua; the rest of the book is from Lucifer's POV, and it does get the reader to sympathise with the Devil. Morgan Dante's Hell is not Dante's Inferno, but a gentler place than one might expect - while being very clearly a place of eternal torment.

The relationship between Judas and Lucifer grows organically, from a tentative fascination to a kind of friendship; transactional sex becomes tender as all veils fall and their souls are laid bare. The choise to never have Judas' POV is interesting, because we only see him through someone else's eyes: he's tormented by what he's done, by his betrayal, by the loss of Yeshua, and he often seeks way to punish himself, but slowly finds a way to forgive himself. And Lucifer, in turn, grows to make peace with his past.

This book wouldn't work without the presence of Lucifer's fantastic supporting cast. Hell isn't explored thoroughly, but rather painted with a few vignettes, exploring other circles, other damned, and the Dukes of Hell. Lilith in particular makes for an incredible secondary character. Even a few Angels make an appearance, and the little snippets of the Fall are harrowing, showing the casual cruelty of the so-called good side.

Dante's writing is, as usual, exquisite. There's a few odd turns of phrase, but generally speaking, the vibes are always immaculate with this author.

The Saint of Hearbreak is an unexpected treasure.

✨ 4 stars

Review: A Sweet Sting of Salt, by Rose Sutherland

When a sharp cry wakes Jean in the middle of the night during a terrible tempest, she’s convinced it must have been a dream. But when the cry comes again, Jean ventures outside and is shocked by what she discovers—a young woman in labor, already drenched to the bone in the freezing cold and barely able to speak a word of English. Although Jean is the only midwife in the village and for miles around, she’s at a loss as to who this woman is or where she’s from; Jean can only assume she must be the new wife of the neighbor up the road, Tobias. And when Tobias does indeed arrive at her cabin in search of his wife, Muirin, Jean’s questions continue to grow. Why has he kept his wife’s pregnancy a secret? And why does Muirin’s open demeanor change completely the moment she’s in his presence?
Though Jean learned long ago that she should stay out of other people’s business, her growing concern—and growing feelings—for Muirin mean she can’t simply set her worries aside. But when the answers she finds are more harrowing than she ever could have imagined, she fears she may have endangered herself, Muirin, and the baby. Will she be able to put things right and save the woman she loves before it’s too late, or will someone have to pay for Jean’s actions with their life?

"She held her love in an open hand."

Rose Sutherland's A Sweet Sting of Salt is a sapphic retelling of the tale of the selkie wife, set in Nova Scotia during the Nineteenth Century. The author weaves an atmospheric story of longing and loneliness, depicting period-typical homophobia and a deft exploration of the wrongness of forced marriage. The growing tenderness between Jean and Muirin is written beautifully, and as the stakes get higher and the husband turns into a menacing antagonist the story almost turns into a horrific tale, with palpable tension woven in the narration.

The cast was fantastic. Jean, the protagonist and only POV, a midwife with a secret in her past that led her to being ostracised for a long while, stuns with her bravery and her kindness. Muirin is a perfect match, a loving mother and a brave character whose playfulness shines through sometimes, with a secret of her own. The crown jewels of the book are certainly their interactions, and especially the moments when Jean teaches English to Muirin. Jean's mentor and her friend, a mother and son, take a bigger role than expected; Jean's relationship with her mentor is beautifully explored, especially in one touching moment, but it's the small moments with the other townsfolk, as we see Jean carve a new life for herself, that really stir the heart. Muirin's husband is an excellent antagonist, a stalking threat who believes that possession is love.

The mystery is built up slowly, with little clues here and there, but it's easy to clock in on the truth even if one picked up the book only thinking it a work of historical fiction. Jean is perhaps a little slower to catch on, but when she does, it's with a heart full of love. The full scope of the revelations however is a surprise even to a more savvy reader.

A Sweet Sting of Salt is a stunning debut.

✨ 4 stars

Review: An Education in Malice, by S.T. Gibson

Deep in the forgotten hills of Massachusetts stands Saint Perpetua's College. Isolated and ancient, it is not a place for timid girls. Here, secrets are currency, ambition is lifeblood, and strange ceremonies welcome students into the fold. On her first day of class, Laura Sheridan is thrust into an intense academic rivalry with the beautiful and enigmatic Carmilla. Together, they are drawn into the confidence of their demanding poetry professor, De Lafontaine, who holds her own dark obsession with Carmilla.
But as their rivalry blossoms into something far more delicious, Laura must confront her own strange hungers. Tangled in a sinister game of politics, bloodthirsty professors and dark magic, Laura and Carmilla must decide how much they are willing to sacrifice in their ruthless pursuit of knowledge.

"Face death bravely, and greet her as a lover."

S.T. Gibson's An Education in Malice is a sapphic dark academia with vampires, loosely connected to the author's A Dowry Of Blood and inspired by the classic Carmilla, although the inspiration ends at the names. The titular character enters a heated academic rivalry with the seemingly innocent Laura, while the two work under the tutelage of their poetry professor, a mysterious figure with her own agenda.

Their two POVs entwine as they navigate their attraction and their battle for their teacher's attention; Laura struggles with her own desires, which she can only safely explore with the help of erotic fiction, while Carmilla is trapped in an inappropriate relationship with her mentor. Gradually, the two will come together and overcome their hurdles, while also coming into their own.

The prose is exquisite, with lovely turns of phrase, and the obsessive nature of their fascination is mirrored by the lush descriptions and the carnality of the world they come into. The attraction between Carmilla and Laura culminates when they are invited to a vampiric bacchanalia, with voyeuristic plays and public sex. We also meet a few older vampires, expanding the world and giving it depth.

The book seems to be a standalone, but I would love something else with the same characters. Perhaps I would have preferred a singular POV, to add to the intrigue, but this worked as well.

An Education in Malice is a deliciously debauched retelling.

✨ 4 stars

📚📚📚 IF YOU LOVE THIS, YOU MIGHT LIKE:

* In the Roses of Pieria, by Anna Burke

for: academia, deeper history

Review: Bitterthorn, by Kat Dunn

Blumwald is a town overshadowed by an ancient curse: in a sinister castle in the depths of the wild wood lives a monstrous Witch. Once a generation, she comes to claim a companion to return with her – never to be seen again. Now that time is drawing near once more.
Mina, daughter of the duke, is grieving and lonely. She has lost all hope of any future for herself in Blumwald. So when the Witch demands her next companion, Mina offers herself up – though she has no idea what fate awaits her. Stranded with her darkly alluring captor, the mystery of what happened to the previous companions draws Mina into the heart of a terrifying secret that could save her life, or end it.

"Loneliness isn't a fixed state".

Kat Dunn's Bitterthorn is a sapphic gothic tale set in the Nineteenth Century, its atmosphere reminiscent of The Beauty and the Beast while not being a complete retelling. Told in the first person, it narrates a tale of profound loneliness and duty, of cruelty born of isolation, of love and infinite kindness. The story gravitates around Mina and her relationship with the Witch, the monster haunting the region with her curse.

The Witch is seen through Mina's eyes; through Mina we are first scared, then fascinated, as the inquisitive narrator does her best to understand her captor and what is to be asked of her. Her ignorance of her fate makes for a compelling read as the reader puts the pieces together and divines what the climax of the novel may be, only to be surprised by the outcome. I don't deny I would have loved a more tragic ending - it seemed to be inevitable - but this book is softer than what one might glimpse at first.

The historical backdrop, with its use of Bismark's unification, serves the novel well, giving it an edge; the ignorance of the more modern Germans, who treat the Witch's existence as mere superstition, contrasts with the terrified knowledge of the country folk, who have to live with the seeping inevitability of the coming reaping. The few named characters are well-rounded, especially the schloss' all-present servant and Mina's father, but others seem to be paper-thin, like Mina's stepmother; of her step-sisters, only one seems to be a character.

This book would have maybe benefitted from more pages to truly appreciate the slow development of the relationship between Mina and her Witch, and to better explore the slow horror of the schloss, haunted with strange happenings and trapped in time. The writing was exquisite, lyrical and evocative and perfect in creating a haunting atmosphere.

Bitterthorn is a beautiful tale of love and duty.

✨ 3.5 stars

📚📚📚 IF YOU LOVE THIS, YOU MIGHT LIKE:

* Thorn, by Anna Burke

for: Beauty and the Beast, gothic

Review: Every Exquisite Thing, by Laura Steven

Penny Paxton is the daughter of an icon. Her supermodel mother has legions of adoring fans around the world, and Penny is ready to begin her journey to international adoration, starting with joining the elite Dorian Drama School. When Penny’s new mentor offers her an opportunity she cannot refuse, to have a portrait painted by a mysterious artist who can grant immortal beauty to all his subjects, Penny happily follows in the footsteps of Dorian’s most glittering alumni, knowing that stardom is sure to soon be hers. But when her trusted mentor is found murdered, Penny realises she’s made a terrible mistake – a sinister someone is using the uncanny portraits to kill off the subjects one by one. As more perfectly beautiful students start to fall, Penny knows her time is running out . . . A seductive and searing exploration of beauty, identity, and what the pursuit of perfection can truly cost.

"Girls don't want beauty. Girls want power. And sometimes beauty is the closest substitute".

Laura Steven's Every Exquisite Thing is a YA feminist and sapphic retelling of The Portrait of Dorian Gray, with elements from the classic being woven in an interesting way. Without getting too much into spoiler territory, the link isn't as tenuous as one may think at first. The book comes with a much appreciated note at the beginning, detailing the book's trigger warnings.

The narration in first person serves the novel well, highlighting the main character's growing unease with the very real threat to her life and with the supernatural happenings around her. We get to feel her helplessness and see her struggle with anorexia in a way that is disconcerting and unnerving.

The book delves deep into the themes of beauty, control, and identity, aided by a prose that is stunning in its simplicity. The execution is lacking in some parts, especially in the second half, but the book makes up for it with its heart; perhaps the revelations towards the end might have been foreshadowed better.

Queer longing permeates the pages, with the tension between the two leads coming to an end in a frenzied scene that works all the better because the ending softens the edges and makes this novel a very real journey of self-discovery that can only end with healing. But while the main trio, and the relationship they shared, is well-developed, the other two recurring characters in Penny's set of friends end up being criminally underdeveloped. The adults, on the other hand, are written better, especially the tragic figure of Penny's mother.

Every Exquisite Thing is a book that helps young women.

✨ 4 stars

📚📚📚 IF YOU LOVE THIS, YOU MIGHT LIKE:

* I Feed Her to the Beast and the Beast Is Me, by Jamison Shea

for: deals, sacrifice

Snippet: The Water Outlaws, by S.L. Huang

Lin Chong is an expert arms instructor, training the Emperor's soldiers in sword and truncheon, battle axe and spear, lance and crossbow. Unlike bolder friends who flirt with challenging the unequal hierarchies and values of Imperial society, she believes in keeping her head down and doing her job. Until a powerful man with a vendetta rips that carefully-built life away.
Disgraced, tattooed as a criminal, and on the run from an Imperial Marshall who will stop at nothing to see her dead, Lin Chong is recruited by the Bandits of Liangshan. Mountain outlaws on the margins of society, the Liangshan Bandits proclaim a belief in justice—for women, for the downtrodden, for progressive thinkers a corrupt Empire would imprison or destroy. They’re also murderers, thieves, smugglers, and cutthroats. Apart, they love like demons and fight like tigers. Together, they could bring down an empire.

"We shall be the storm of silk and steel that shelters all those in need". S.L. Huang's The Water Outlaws is a standalone anti-hero journey that genderbends a classic Chinese novel, Water Margin, mixing things up with interesting magic. It's a violent tale about rebelling against a broken system - one that allows rape and abuse of power, where dissidents are thrown into prison - and making the most of what one has, about finding community even amongst violent people. The cast is huge, but the two main characters, once friends and now possibly on opposite sides, undergo major character development that feels organic and earned. The tale slows down towards the middle only to pick up towards an explosive finale that accounts for all the loose threads.

✨ 4 stars

📚📚📚 IF YOU LOVE THIS, YOU MIGHT LIKE:

* The Order of the Pure Moon Reflected in Water, by Zen Cho

for: banditry, queer wuxia

Review: Thorn, by Anna Burke

On a cold day deep in the heart of winter, Rowan’s father returns from an ill-fated hunting trip bearing a single, white rose. The rose is followed by the Huntress, a figure out of legend. Tall, cruel, and achingly beautiful, she brings Rowan back with her to a mountain fastness populated solely by the creatures of the hunt. Rowan, who once scorned the villagers for their superstitions, now finds herself at the heart of a curse with roots as deep as the mountains, ruled by an old magic that is as insidious as the touch of the winter rose.
Torn between her family loyalties, her guilty relief at escaping her betrothal to the charming but arrogant Avery Lockland, and her complicated feelings for the Huntress, Rowan must find a way to break the curse before it destroys everything she loves. There is only one problem―if she can find a way to lift the curse, she will have to return to the life she left behind. And the only thing more unbearable than endless winter is facing a lifetime of springs without the Huntress.

"All flesh, all blood, all teeth and bone and grace". Anna Burke's Thorn is a sapphic Beauty and the Beast retelling with a very evocative and graceful atmosphere. The prose is simple but beautiful, immersive. One can almost feel the biting cold of the land trapped in eternal winter by a curse; in a way, the atmosphere can be reminiscent of the Snow Queen, with the Huntress' castle surrounded by ice, and the wolves and big bear that she hunts with. The element of the rose, from the Beauty and the Beast, is well-incorporated.

The story follows almost all the beats of the tale, giving it its own spin. The Huntress is a fascinating character, enigmatic and inesorable, trapped by her own interpretation of the curse. Her POV is in third person, granting her a measure of mystery. Rowan on the other hand narrates in first person, giving the reader a glimpse into her life and desires. The rest of the characters are given some depth by the narration, especially Rowan's sisters. The resolution gives Rowan more agency, as she has learnt to hunt in her time with the Huntress, and she uses well what she knows. The witch who cursed the Huntress is a character in her own right, appearing more than one would think.

Thorn is a lovely retelling with a unique atmosphere.

✨ 3.5 stars

Review: The Mimicking of Known Successes, by Malka Older

 

On a remote, gas-wreathed outpost of a human colony on Jupiter, a man goes missing. The enigmatic Investigator Mossa follows his trail to Valdegeld, home to the colony’s erudite university—and Mossa’s former girlfriend, a scholar of Earth’s pre-collapse ecosystems.
Pleiti has dedicated her research and her career to aiding the larger effort towards a possible return to Earth. When Mossa unexpectedly arrives and requests Pleiti’s assistance in her latest investigation, the two of them embark on a twisting path in which the future of life on Earth is at stake—and, perhaps, their futures, together.

There is life on Jupiter. Malka Older's The Mimicking of Known Successes is a cozy holmesian mystery set on a colony on the giant planet. Humanity has depleted Earth's resources and moved to Jupiter to live on floating platforms; but there's who wants to fix Earth's ecosystem in order to return there. Our Watson, Pleiti, is a scholar at university, working on that very same problem, and when a university man disappears, the investigator Mossa rekindles her old flame with Pleiti and lets the woman help her in the investigation.

What follows is a delightful mystery novella, perfectly self-contained, filled with interesting details about the world-building. The colonies on Jupiter are vividly described, and the situation on Earth clearly explained. Alongside the investigation, Pleiti reflects on her old relationship with Mossa, and it was lovely to see their romantic tension reignite into a satisfying conclusion.

The Mimicking of Known Successes is a lovely mystery for readers wanting to branch into scifi.

✨ 3.5 stars

Snippet: Burning Roses, by S.L. Huang

 

When Rosa (aka Red Riding Hood) and Hou Yi the Archer join forces to stop the deadly sunbirds from ravaging the countryside, their quest will take the two women, now blessed and burdened with the hindsight of middle age, into a reckoning of sacrifices made and mistakes mourned, of choices and family and the quest for immortality.

"We are just two old women… Old women who have hurt their children". S.L. Huang's Burning Roses is a novella on the short side that manages to package so much in so few pages, weaving retellings of many Western fairy tales with a Chinese myth into a queer story that explores how flawed parents can damage their children, and how to come back from there and atone for it. It's a beautiful gem that also presents and explores multiple wlw relationships.

✨ 4 stars

Review: Lady Hotspur, by Tessa Gratton

 

Hal was once a knight, carefree and joyous, sworn to protect her future queen Banna Mora. But after a rebellion led by her own mother, Caleda, Hal is now the prince of Lionis, heir to the throne. The pressure of her crown and bloody memories of war plague her, as well as a need to shape her own destiny, no matter the cost.
Lady Hotspur, known as the Wolf of Aremoria for her temper and warcraft, never expected to be more than a weapon. She certainly never expected to fall in love with the fiery Hal or be blindsided by an angry Queen’s promise to remake the whole world in her own image—a plan Hotspur knows will lead to tragedy.
Banna Mora kept her life, but not her throne. Fleeing to Innis Lear to heal her heart and plot revenge, the stars and roots of Innis Lear will teach her that the only way to survive a burning world is to learn to breathe fire.

“The arrow of her heart forever pointed there.” Tessa Gratton's Lady Hotspur is a queer fantasy gender-swapped retelling of Shakespeare's Henry IV, set a few centuries after another book, The Queens of Innis Lear, another shakespearian retelling; events of the previous book are mentioned quite a few times, but I was able to easily follow even if I never read the first one. The retelling follows closely enough the plot of Henry IV before veering towards a gentler end than the play's, where the magical aspects of the novel also take center stage in stunning and lyrical moments of courage and sacrifice.

First and foremost, it's a tale of women trying to carve their place in the world. The narration takes its time to make us really know the characters, to make us love them and be vexed by them; it doesn't shy away from making them complex and real. The love story at the center of the novel is quite complicated, marred by conflicted loyalties and political machinations; revenge and betrayal move the plot along for a good portion of the story.

What starts as a subplot with more magical elements - and even features some (very tragic) mlm representation and truly heartbreaking moments - then takes center stage as the war for the crown becomes a war to reunite the magic of two lands that were torn from each other ages before, a war to return balance to the world. The magic of the island of Innis Lear is feral and dangerous in parts, elemental and grounded in the earth; it's broken because it's separated from the land it once came from. The deeds done to achieve balance will shape the course of the war.

Queer readers should be advised that, while two of the three female protagonists share a beautiful romance, the above political machinations also include political marriages to continue the dinasty and, in one instance, the union of a lesbian character with a man. While potentially triggering, the matter is treated with respect and little detail; it helps that the man in that relationships gets a few chapters from his point of view and is depicted as a respectful character, willing to compromise. That's really the only thing that didn't make me give this full 5 stars, because I did end up feeling queasy at times.

Lady Hotspur is a complicated tale of love and revenge, perfect for Shakespeare lovers.

✨ 4.5 stars

Review: The Raven and the Reindeer, by T. Kingfisher

 

When Gerta’s friend Kay is stolen away by the mysterious Snow Queen, it’s up to Gerta to find him. Her journey will take her through a dangerous land of snow and witchcraft, accompanied only by a bandit and a talking raven. Can she win her friend’s release, or will following her heart take her to unexpected places?

What a lovely way to begin the new year! T. Kingfisher's The Raven and the Reindeer is a perfect retelling of Hans Christian Andersen’s "Snow Queen", drawing on the original but giving it its own spin, adding more depth and grounding it more to reality while also enriching the supernatural aspects of the fairy tale. At a little more than 200 pages, it's a delightful novella that ends with the timeless simplicity of fairy tales, giving the reader just enough information to glimpse the happily ever after.

The book truly shines in the worldbuilding: there are talking animals - each species with such distinctive voices - and stunning bits of sacrificial magic, and two long passages about the deep connections of roots and plants and their dark, hungry power; but, also, their gentleness. Gerta moves about with her big heart and her simple kindness, gathering allies all the while and almost losing herself in the reindeer skin. There's a brutality in some scenes, eerie and necessary; in the butchering, in the knife freeing her every night.

Her relationship with Janna, a nameless servant in the original, develops organically enough. There's perhaps a touch of discomfort in the beginning, when Gerta is held captive, but the author is quick to move on and show the differences with Gerta's hopeless infuatation of Kai. Like in the original, Kai doesn't have a heart and treats her abysmally, but here it's not anyone's fault but his own; he's just a standoffish, cruel kid, more interested in his puzzles. Janna is a well-rounded character, not perfect but certainly kinder, with a dark past of her own that gives her depth.

The Raven and the Reindeer is a great retelling of a cult classic, better than the original.

✨ 3.5 stars