Monday, July 25, 2022

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

Monday, July 18, 2022

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

Monday, July 11, 2022

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

Monday, July 4, 2022

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

Monday, June 27, 2022

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

Monday, June 20, 2022

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

Monday, June 13, 2022

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

Monday, June 6, 2022

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

Monday, May 30, 2022

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

Monday, May 23, 2022

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