I got to read an early version of this, and even when I was extremely ill and in a lot of pain, it was STILL entirely unputdownable! I laughed so muchI got to read an early version of this, and even when I was extremely ill and in a lot of pain, it was STILL entirely unputdownable! I laughed so much, and my heart MELTED for these two wonderful guys, and it was exactly what I needed while miserable. Absolutely perfect.
Will review it properly when I've read the finished version!...more
*I received this book for free from the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. This does not affect my opinion of the book or the c*I received this book for free from the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. This does not affect my opinion of the book or the content of my review.*
HIGHLIGHTS ~no vows of chastity for these nuns ~supporting women’s wrongs 100% ~don’t touch someone else’s pearl (not a euphemism!) ~drown all colonisers ~brace yourself for ALL the Emotions ~a love triangle that is actually excellent ~if she lets down her hair, RUN
Saints of Storm and Sorrow grabs you by the throat and does not let you go for an instant.
It’s also a book where, to be honest, I feel like my main task is just to make sure you know about it – because once you do, it sells itself. A bisexual nun who can summon typhoons by letting down her hair is caught between the goddess she’s hiding from and the totally-not-Spaniards who’ve colonised her home? In a setting inspired by the Philippines?? What else could you possibly need to hear to convince you that Saints of Storm and Sorrow is a must-read?!?
I know, I know, sometimes we get super excited for books with amazing pitches that, in the end, are let-downs. But this is not one of those times. Saints of Storm and Sorrow is every bit as incredible as it sounds. There is no wasted potential here. If I may add a little more alliteration – Saints of Storm and Sorrow is simply superb.
Anitun Tabu herself, garbed in light, the dark moon of her face too beautiful to gaze upon, the black river of her hair a halo lashing in unseen winds. She was crowned in lightning, the spear of heaven’s judgement in her right hand.
“You called my name, Daughter?”
Lunurin is biracial, the daughter of a woman of the archipelago and a Codicían priest – but although she’s spent a good chunk of her life playing a Christian (and therefore Codicían) nun, in her heart she’s anything but. Not for lack of trying; Lunurin works hard to be soft and pleasant, both for her lover and the Church that’s given her a (kind of) sanctuary; she has kept her head down for years, playing the dutiful Christian novice. Behind closed doors, though, she has her romance with Catalina, another biracial novice, with Catalina’s younger sister filling an almost daughter-like role to round out their little family. Interestingly, despite Catalina’s Christian faith being far more genuine than Lunurin’s, Catalina seems to have no shame or complicated feelings about being queer, despite the fact that her sexuality, and her love for Lunurin, go completely against the church’s rules. But in all other respects she’s a good Codicían woman – and very clearly wants Lunurin to be one too.
Lunurin isn’t, though. And not just because she’s a stormcaller – chosen by Anitun Tabu, goddess of the sky and weather, ‘blessed’ with immense power only kept under wraps by the same powerful talisman that hides Lunurin from her goddess. Lunurin sees the hypocrisies and abuses of the Church and the Codicíans, and can’t close her eyes to them; whenever she can, she helps the poor and abused escape the Church’s reach, often with the help of Alon. In Western terms, Alon is basically a prince, the heir of the island’s ruler since his older brother was exiled; he’s also, secretly, one of the tide-touched, able to manipulate salt water with the blessing of Aman Sinaya, goddess of the sea. And he’s the only one who might be able to help when Lunurin and Catalina make a horrific discovery in the early chapters of the book – one that will lead all three of them to the breaking point, and tear them, and maybe even their island, apart.
It took everything in Lunurin not to laugh until she wept. What divine calling could there be when a primordial goddess of the heavens, with lightning for blood and storms at her beck and call, curled under Lunurin’s breastbone, whispering, “Daughter, won’t you drown them for me?”
Drawing inspiration from the Philippines, its history, and its mythology, the setting of SoSaS feels new and unique, a gorgeous and entrancing contrast to the generic Medieval-Europe-esque backdrop that is so confusingly popular in Fantasy. The world Buba has created here is beautiful and intricate, one that I fell more and more in love with the more I learned about it. The people’s relationship to the land and sea and sky, the matriarchal politics, the pearls, the hair, the wildly different (from Christianity) approach to religion, the trio of goddesses whose chosen ones are so integral to the Aynilan way of life… It’s all incredible. No detail has been missed or hand-waved or not-thought-through, with the result that it feels real enough to be a place you could visit it in person if you chose. It doesn’t feel invented, which is the highest praise I can give to a land that doesn’t exist.
For example, let’s talk about mutyas. In the (unnamed) archipelago that Lunurin lives in – clearly a fantasy version of the archipelago that is the Philippines in our world – cultures vary somewhat from island to island (we know that there are hundreds of languages spoken in the archipelago, and in the prologue, we hear of an island ruled by rajs who have tossed out the Codicíans entirely; Lunurin’s island of origin Calilan had a Datu, who was some kind of ruler; and Aynila, which is the setting of SoSaS, has the Lakan who rules the entire island alone, as best I can make out) but mutyas are one of the many things that tie everyone together. A mutya is a piece of jewellery – usually some kind of hair comb for women with magic, but for others it can take just about any form – set with the pearl the person found when they underwent their naming dive. If a person finds a special kind of pearl, it marks them as goddess-chosen – a stormcaller like Lunurin, tide-touched like Alon, or a firetender, depending on the pearl and the goddess. This is a relatively simple piece of worldbuilding, I guess, but for one thing, it’s a beautiful concept, and for a second, it’s woven throughout the entire book. Lunurin’s mutya is one of the things that helps her control (read: suppress) her magic, so it’s something she nearly always has on her person; it’s a sacred, highly personal object that every Aynilan character we come into contact with has and wears, usually openly; by the time we see someone fondle another person’s mutya uninvited, I didn’t need Buba to spell out for me how shocking and violating that was, because she’d already made sure I’d absorbed exactly how important a mutya is. Every concept Buba invents or introduces us to is like that; easy to understand and remember, shown naturally rather than info-dumped on us, and never forgotten or not-followed-through on.
*I received this book for free from the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. This does not affect my opinion of the book or the content of my review.*
HIGHLIGHTS ~no vows of chastity for these nuns ~supporting women’s wrongs 100% ~don’t touch someone else’s pearl (not a euphemism!) ~drown all colonisers ~brace yourself for ALL the Emotions ~a love triangle that is actually excellent ~if she lets down her hair, RUN
Saints of Storm and Sorrow grabs you by the throat and does not let you go for an instant.
It’s also a book where, to be honest, I feel like my main task is just to make sure you know about it – because once you do, it sells itself. A bisexual nun who can summon typhoons by letting down her hair is caught between the goddess she’s hiding from and the totally-not-Spaniards who’ve colonised her home? In a setting inspired by the Philippines?? What else could you possibly need to hear to convince you that Saints of Storm and Sorrow is a must-read?!?
I know, I know, sometimes we get super excited for books with amazing pitches that, in the end, are let-downs. But this is not one of those times. Saints of Storm and Sorrow is every bit as incredible as it sounds. There is no wasted potential here. If I may add a little more alliteration – Saints of Storm and Sorrow is simply superb.
Anitun Tabu herself, garbed in light, the dark moon of her face too beautiful to gaze upon, the black river of her hair a halo lashing in unseen winds. She was crowned in lightning, the spear of heaven’s judgement in her right hand.
“You called my name, Daughter?”
Lunurin is biracial, the daughter of a woman of the archipelago and a Codicían priest – but although she’s spent a good chunk of her life playing a Christian (and therefore Codicían) nun, in her heart she’s anything but. Not for lack of trying; Lunurin works hard to be soft and pleasant, both for her lover and the Church that’s given her a (kind of) sanctuary; she has kept her head down for years, playing the dutiful Christian novice. Behind closed doors, though, she has her romance with Catalina, another biracial novice, with Catalina’s younger sister filling an almost daughter-like role to round out their little family. Interestingly, despite Catalina’s Christian faith being far more genuine than Lunurin’s, Catalina seems to have no shame or complicated feelings about being queer, despite the fact that her sexuality, and her love for Lunurin, go completely against the church’s rules. But in all other respects she’s a good Codicían woman – and very clearly wants Lunurin to be one too.
Lunurin isn’t, though. And not just because she’s a stormcaller – chosen by Anitun Tabu, goddess of the sky and weather, ‘blessed’ with immense power only kept under wraps by the same powerful talisman that hides Lunurin from her goddess. Lunurin sees the hypocrisies and abuses of the Church and the Codicíans, and can’t close her eyes to them; whenever she can, she helps the poor and abused escape the Church’s reach, often with the help of Alon. In Western terms, Alon is basically a prince, the heir of the island’s ruler since his older brother was exiled; he’s also, secretly, one of the tide-touched, able to manipulate salt water with the blessing of Aman Sinaya, goddess of the sea. And he’s the only one who might be able to help when Lunurin and Catalina make a horrific discovery in the early chapters of the book – one that will lead all three of them to the breaking point, and tear them, and maybe even their island, apart.
It took everything in Lunurin not to laugh until she wept. What divine calling could there be when a primordial goddess of the heavens, with lightning for blood and storms at her beck and call, curled under Lunurin’s breastbone, whispering, “Daughter, won’t you drown them for me?”
Drawing inspiration from the Philippines, its history, and its mythology, the setting of SoSaS feels new and unique, a gorgeous and entrancing contrast to the generic Medieval-Europe-esque backdrop that is so confusingly popular in Fantasy. The world Buba has created here is beautiful and intricate, one that I fell more and more in love with the more I learned about it. The people’s relationship to the land and sea and sky, the matriarchal politics, the pearls, the hair, the wildly different (from Christianity) approach to religion, the trio of goddesses whose chosen ones are so integral to the Aynilan way of life… It’s all incredible. No detail has been missed or hand-waved or not-thought-through, with the result that it feels real enough to be a place you could visit it in person if you chose. It doesn’t feel invented, which is the highest praise I can give to a land that doesn’t exist.
For example, let’s talk about mutyas. In the (unnamed) archipelago that Lunurin lives in – clearly a fantasy version of the archipelago that is the Philippines in our world – cultures vary somewhat from island to island (we know that there are hundreds of languages spoken in the archipelago, and in the prologue, we hear of an island ruled by rajs who have tossed out the Codicíans entirely; Lunurin’s island of origin Calilan had a Datu, who was some kind of ruler; and Aynila, which is the setting of SoSaS, has the Lakan who rules the entire island alone, as best I can make out) but mutyas are one of the many things that tie everyone together. A mutya is a piece of jewellery – usually some kind of hair comb for women with magic, but for others it can take just about any form – set with the pearl the person found when they underwent their naming dive. If a person finds a special kind of pearl, it marks them as goddess-chosen – a stormcaller like Lunurin, tide-touched like Alon, or a firetender, depending on the pearl and the goddess. This is a relatively simple piece of worldbuilding, I guess, but for one thing, it’s a beautiful concept, and for a second, it’s woven throughout the entire book. Lunurin’s mutya is one of the things that helps her control (read: suppress) her magic, so it’s something she nearly always has on her person; it’s a sacred, highly personal object that every Aynilan character we come into contact with has and wears, usually openly; by the time we see someone fondle another person’s mutya uninvited, I didn’t need Buba to spell out for me how shocking and violating that was, because she’d already made sure I’d absorbed exactly how important a mutya is. Every concept Buba invents or introduces us to is like that; easy to understand and remember, shown naturally rather than info-dumped on us, and never forgotten or not-followed-through on.
HIGHLIGHTS ~midwives get RESPECT ~know! your!! myths!!! ~not all men sure but DEFINITELY this one ~the MC is Too Logical ~4.5 stars happily rounded up.
Rtc!
HIGHLIGHTS ~midwives get RESPECT ~know! your!! myths!!! ~not all men sure but DEFINITELY this one ~the MC is Too Logical ~sapphic selkies ftw
A Sweet Sting of Salt is what I think is called low fantasy – there’s not a lot of magic at all, and what there is doesn’t try to explain itself. But it’s also a fantasy in the sense of, this is almost a historical fiction novel, but it’s one where queer characters get their happy endings without too much homophobia; where women escape and make lives for themselves outside of the patriarchy, again without nearly as much trouble as people of the time period probably would have experienced. It’s fantasy in the same way a daydream is fantasy, in that one aspect, and I really appreciated it.
There’s enough queerphobia in the real world, I don’t want to read about it in my fiction, okay?
But though it’s low-magic, don’t think this is a low-stakes, low-tension novel, because it most certainly is not. Anxiety for the characters had my guts in knots for a good half of the book, and there’s real, and really awful, violence, with the threat of worse hanging over the heads of the MC and her love interest.
It’s not a chill time, is what I’m saying here. A Sweet Sting of Salt is, well, sweet, but it’s also heart-in-your-throat nerve-wracking when it’s not giving you heart-ache – or both at once! Don’t curl up with this one expecting a calm cosy read, because that is NOT what you’re going to get!
Jean was outed by the spiteful mother of the girl she loved years ago, but earned back the respect of her neighbours by becoming a very skilled midwife. (This is not a coincidence; Jean’s amazing mentor, the half-Indigenous Anneke, deliberately set Jean to learning midwifery because few people are so bigoted they’re willing to ostracize the person their lives, or those of their female relatives, will almost certainly depend on someday.) And as the blurb says, the story gets moving when a heavily pregnant woman Jean didn’t even know about (what kind of pregnant person wouldn’t make sure the local midwife knew about their condition?) appears on her land late at night, only to go ahead and have the fastest and easiest delivery Jean has ever seen.
The mysterious woman is Muirin, who barely speaks a word of English – and yet, Jean is able to pick up on something between Muirin and her husband, Tobias, that makes her insist Muirin and the newborn stay with her for a while ‘just to make sure all’s well’.
I despise the lack-of-communication trope, where things could be cleared up so easily if characters just talked to each other clearly and honestly – but in Sweet Sting of Salt, the issue is that Muirin legitimately can’t communicate, as she knows very little English. And although the reader knows – or at least strongly suspects! – that Muirin is a selkie, and that’s probably why she’s so (charmingly) odd and doesn’t speak English, Jean reaches very logical conclusions to her own questions about Muirin’s nature and origins. A whole lot of assumptions are made, but they’re well-reasoned given what Jean knows of the world. This isn’t one of those stories where the supernatural is staring the MC in the face the entire time and they almost wilfully refuse to see it; although I was frantic for Jean to figure things out and get to helping Muirin, I could absolutely follow her reasoning when she came up with explanations for Muirin’s lack of family, her ignorance of the local culture, and even her strained relationship with Tobias. It was – kind of amusingly frustrating, that Jean was so rational? That there were so many perfectly obvious, perfectly reasonable explanations for all of Jean’s questions? There was just no way for someone in Jean’s position – in life, in history, in geography, even in the patriarchy – to put it together that Muirin isn’t a foreigner in a bad position, but an honest-to-gods selkie.
Part of that – and this is really my only critique of the book – is that selkies never come up in Jean’s thoughts or any other part of her life. I was really surprised that Sutherland never took the time to let the reader know what a selkie actually is – especially given that there was one scene in particular, when a child is asking for water-legend stories, that would have been the perfect moment to introduce the concept and make sure the reader knew the myth of the selkie. If you don’t already know what a selkie is when you go into this book, there’s a good chance you’ll be pretty confused when the reveal does come, as the book is written as if it’s taken for granted that every reader knows about selkies.
I mean, I do? But I’m a myth-nerd born in Ireland, where selkie stories are traditional. I’m not sure how or why Sutherland – or her editor – expects most readers to know what she’s on about. Selkies are not a type of magical creature that show up a lot in fantasy fiction; everyone knows what a dragon is (debates about how many limbs they should have aside) but selkies? Joane Harris’ The Blue Salt Road is the only selkie book I can think of from a reasonably-big-name author, and I don’t think it made enough of a splash (hah!) to put selkies on the map, as it were.
But as I said, this is a very low-magic historical fantasy, where the selkie reveal is a comparatively minor plot-point near the end of the book. Infinitely more important is the relationship that develops between Jean and Muirin, how trust becomes friendship becomes another kind of love; and there are definitely feminist themes, as the blurb promises, but Sweet Sting of Salt never feels like an IssuesTM book – I never felt like I was being preached at, or that Sutherland was stating the obvious and rubbing my face in it, as other heavier-handed storytellers have done.
I think it helps that the focus of the book is so intimate; it’s not an IssuesTM story because it is Jean-and-Muirin’s story. And a big part of that story is the legal powerlessness of women in this time period; is the specific danger most women and femmes face from most cis men, ie the threat of someone who is bigger and stronger than you; is the slowly growing horror of just how awful Muirin’s situation is – one that she is only in because of supernatural means, but that plenty of human women have experienced through history, and still do today. But I appreciated that these were all treated less as themes and more like real, practical problems faced by the characters, if that makes any kind of sense. It’s not about lessons for the reader, it’s about the stumbling blocks and hindrances and outright dangers the characters have to overcome to get their happy ending.
CHANDRASEKERA KINDLY STOP BLOWING MY MIND TO GLITTERY SMITHEREENS, SIR!
(Never stop ever.)
Rtc!
*I received this book for free from the publisher via NetCHANDRASEKERA KINDLY STOP BLOWING MY MIND TO GLITTERY SMITHEREENS, SIR!
(Never stop ever.)
Rtc!
*I received this book for free from the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. This does not affect my opinion of the book or the content of my review.*
HIGHLIGHTS ~a handful of minutes ~hunt treasure, find demons ~time ain’t what it oughtta be ~the things one will do to get a son-in-law ~grandparents made of abnormal atoms
I’ll be honest: I don’t think I understood most of what was going on in Rakesfall.
But I loved every second of it.
In the simplest possible terms, it is, as the blurb claims, the…story…of two (at least two) souls as they reincarnate again and again. But describing it that way doesn’t even BEGIN to give you an idea of what Rakesfall is, or is like.
enormity cannot truly, fully be spoken of without recourse to fable. There is a dread scale at which only myth works; only nightmare has the technology. Worlds must be broken to convey that attempts to depict a multidimensionally unspeakable reality in fiction, including this one, are but contemptible in the final reading.
Part of it seems to take place in the past of our world, and some in our present or near-present – but the vast majority of it, all the stories that are really one story, are taking part in a world that isn’t ours, and then in a future that could be, but could just as easily be the future of this world that isn’t ours. (Readers familiar with Chandrasekera’s debut, The Saint of Bright Doors, will recognise the city of Luriat, which we visit again this book – albeit relatively briefly.
Does that make Rakesfall the/a sequel to The Saint of Bright Doors? I don’t think so, but some of the terms used in TSoBD come up again in Rakesfall, so it is helpful to have read TSoBD first. Very not-mandatory, though.)
Possibly this is the meaning of the title – The Rakesfall, if I understood it correctly, was an event that…‘broke’ isn’t the right term…changed the timeline, and thus the world, into…not what it ‘shouldn’t’ be, but what it wasn’t before. So I think the setting(s are) meant to be…a world our world could have been, or might have been, or would be, if time hadn’t gone the way it did. And/or will be, re the future parts, if we don’t hurry up and eat the rich already.
I’M TRYING MY BEST, OKAY?
Georges does not ask himself why the Christian devil has hooves and horns, which is of course that they are satyrical.
There is wordplay and mindplay and a rapid cycling through perspectives, sometimes several perspectives of the same event or events. We jump from the colonialisation of Indonesia to the far-future when humanity has left Earth behind entirely, and a whole bunch of places – some real, some meant-to-be-real, some meant-to-not-be – in-between (and before, and after). I don’t think it’s accurate to say that there is one clear, linear story being played out over all these lifetimes and timelines (if there is, I missed it) but it would be equally untrue to claim that Rakesfall has no plot; each section of the book – most of which cover one lifetime or time-period – covers a series of events that I was very invested in, even when I knew I was missing some nuance or only comprehending a piece of the whole. There is a murder-mystery; there are many attempts to ‘regreen’ the Earth after climate collapse; there is identity-theft with souls; there are quests, kind of; there is subtle and unsubtle resistance to political oppression; there are ghosts being taken to court to stop their hauntings. There is a LOT.
I finished reading this on my birthday, as a birthday gift to myself, and EVERYTHING ABOUT IT WAS PERFECT <3 <3 <3 <3 <3
Rtc!
HIGHLIGHTS ~remember those I finished reading this on my birthday, as a birthday gift to myself, and EVERYTHING ABOUT IT WAS PERFECT <3 <3 <3 <3 <3
Rtc!
HIGHLIGHTS ~remember those who came before ~but feel free to argue with the those who are here now ~illusions that show the truth ~transformative justice ~never underestimate queer youth ~always carry a Polly Pocket ~the witchfinders have no idea what they’re up against
:this review contains spoilers for the rest of the trilogy!:
This is not a book. It’s a war-cry and an anthem, a manifesto and a dream, maenadic euphoria and anarchist fury. It’s starfire and glowsticks, weaponised Polly Pockets bedecked and befanged with neon and vegan leather. It’s the mystery that makes the chants of protesters and the chants of witches the same thing, and packs the punch of both; it’s a relief and release and rejuvenation; it’s a fuck off and fuck no and fuck YES.
It’s a baby book devil, waiting to be born, to become your spellbook, to see you and love you and teach you how to play cat’s cradle with the stars, unleash hurricanes with your rage, stop bullets with a kiss.
We started the ritual with Scapegracers, scribed the sigils and seized hold of our souls in Scratch Daughters. Now The Feast Makers is here, it’s time to unleash the fucking magic.
Embrace it, let go, and CAST.
*
I finished Scratch Daughters with no idea what Clarke was going to do with book three, no clue how the trilogy could wrap up with an ending that would satisfy me. Besides all the immediate plot facing the Scapegracers coven, there were some pretty Big Deal reveals about the world of witchcraft and witchfinders and how both are inextricably tied to the patriarchy! How could Clarke fix that with just one more book??? I loved and believed in Sideways and their girls, damn right I did (and do) but – but – surely that was too much even for them, with just one more book to go?
Surely?
Yeah, no. I should never have doubted. Every question is answered, every plotline resolved, every character given the ending they earned and deserve. Every byssus thread spun in the earlier books is remembered, gathered up, and woven together into the most sharply scintillating tapestry, embroidered in Clarke’s lightning-lipped prose. The Feast Makers is everything I dreamed of packed with everything I didn’t know to want, the absolutely perfect ending to a perfect trilogy.
I CANNOT EVEN.
I felt seven emotions at once and acknowledged none of them.
Like, literally cannot: I’ve spent weeks tearing myself apart trying to figure out how to review this book. Trying to figure out what I can possibly say that will do it justice, give you even the slightest idea of how EVERYTHING the Feast Makers is. Have you wondered about the title? Here, I can make it real simple: THE BOOK IS THE FEAST, MOST DECADENT AND DIVINE.
(The Scapegracers are the feast.)
(The witchfinders are the feast.)
(My heart is the fucking feast, devoured right out of my chest by Sideways and Jing and Daisy and Yates, by Mr Scratch and Shiloh, by motherfucking Madeline, what even is this, making me give a fuck about Madeline is enough to prove magic exists, prove Feast Makers is one giant spell that Clarke has cast on me personally, because literally nothing else can explain how much I ached over that trainwreck-gorgon of a girl in this grand finale.)
Where do I even start? What should I tell you? That Feast Makers is every bit as glorious and messy and sharp and brutal and breathtaking as the books before it? That this is a love story, with candy-heart necklaces and nuclear reactors and Marks of Cain? That it’s a justice story, a cementing-your-place story, a never-back-down story? That I laughed so hard I cried, repeatedly; that I bit my lips to bleeding at the Feels; that I had pissed-off cobras in my stomach every time Sideways and their girls were in trouble? Which they were WAY TOO OFTEN, I am too young to have a heart attack, for the love of the gods go easier on me, Clarke.
I AM ABOUT TO MAKE THIS BOOK MY WHOLE ENTIRE PERSONALITY AND YOU CANNOT STOP ME
PERFECTION
EEEEEEEEEE!
RTC!!!
*I received this book MY NEW FAVOURITE THING
I AM ABOUT TO MAKE THIS BOOK MY WHOLE ENTIRE PERSONALITY AND YOU CANNOT STOP ME
PERFECTION
EEEEEEEEEE!
RTC!!!
*I received this book for free from the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. This does not affect my opinion of the book or the content of my review.*
Highlights ~the zoo I’ve been waiting all my life for ~a giftshop where I want to buy everything ~sort-of-rivals to lovers ~don’t neglect your bestie ~PHOENIXES!
Some books make you fizz and glitter and wiggle your toes and SQUEE, and The Phoenix Keeper is one of them!
That’s my biggest take-away from this book: how much JOY it made me feel, how much delight! I want to hug it to my chest and read it another hundred times and put a copy in the hands of everyone I know, because it is SO wonderful and SO perfect and I want to share it with THE WHOLE ENTIRE WORLD!
You know how sometimes, it’s so clear that the author really loved getting to write the book in your hands? Phoenix Keeper is like that: delight emanates from the pages, catching in your throat and your chest, making everything sparkle and effervesce. This book was written because MacLean loved it, so that you and I could fall in love with it; and how could we not, when every aspect of it is enchanting, geared to gladden? What’s not to love about a big, bright zoo where everyone adores the animals they take such great care of? How are you supposed to resist the charms of literally magical creatures, in all their science-defying glory? Who doesn’t cheer to see an endangered species flourish just a little bit more? And all of it filtered through a sweetheart of a main character, who is unintentionally funny and so very passionate and terrible at public speaking?
YES PLEASE!
The plot is pretty much as described in the blurb, so I won’t go over that too much. But I really have to emphasise that MacLean makes you feel. I was stunned by how intensely I felt everything MacLean wanted me to, from sharing Aila’s anxiety, to utter outrage, to being on the literal edge of my seat as called for. And even though this is clearly a happy book, one where nothing will go really horrifically wrong – where the worst baddest thing definitely won’t happen – fellow readers, I was absolutely terrified when The Thing went down! It didn’t matter how much I told myself that no way, it wouldn’t happen, MacLean wouldn’t: I cared so much about the characters, about the phoenixes, about the zoo, that my reason abandoned me and my stomach was in knots and I was almost in tears from the tension. I would have defenestrated anyone who interrupted my reading just then! THIS IS NOT THE NORM FOR ME! In the ten months of this year, I’ve had this intense a reaction to just one other book!!!
But there’s just no way to not care, to keep any kind of emotional distance between you and the story; it doesn’t pull you in, it wraps around you like warm wings and you don’t even notice until next thing you know, there’s a phoenix-fire where your heart should be and whoops, you live here now.
I REGRET NOTHING.
I admit I was predisposed to love Phoenix Keeper – I’ve been pining for an Adult zoo or vet story about magical creatures for years now, so yes, I lit up like a phoenix when I heard about this one! Still, I’m notoriously picky; it would absolutely be possible to write this kind of story and for it to just not work for me. Whereas this did, for so many reasons. MacLean expertly wields the tone and prose (is this really her debut?!) so that Phoenix Keeper feels light and glittery even while scary things are happening, or sad ones, or when Aila’s anxiety is spiking. The writing dances, bright and quick, making for a wonderfully relaxing, easy reading experience; this is not a book that leaves you exhausted with the effort of reading it, but nor is it shallow. Phoenix Keeper manages to examine friendship and grief and passion, what it’s like to have found the thing you want to devote your life to, what it’s like to devote yourself to a goal so much bigger than you are; even what (romantic) love should and shouldn’t be, all while telling a heart-warming, incredibly joy-full story.
*I received this book for free from the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. This does not affect my opinion of the book or the c*I received this book for free from the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. This does not affect my opinion of the book or the content of my review.*
HIGHLIGHTS ~blue dogs ~spooky dildos ~cruel, cruel possums ~laughing till it hurts, then laughing some more ~comedy that will convert you to anarchism
Every time I think Rowland can’t possibly get any better, they go ahead and OUTDO THEMSELF AGAIN!
(A brief note: if you fell in love with A Taste of Gold and Iron, then a) you have great taste and b) you need to know that Running Close to the Wind is a very different kind of book. It is equally (if not, dare I say, EVEN MORE) excellent! But where AToFaI is very sensual and luxurious and full of yearning, Running Close to the Wind is cheeky and exciting and utterly shameless, and I think it’s best to know that going in. I adore both, and I think many others will too, but you do have to shift gears and appreciate Running Close to the Wind for what it is, not go comparing it to AToFaI. That way lies only disappointment, and that would be a tragedy, because if you embrace Running Close to the Wind and judge it only on its own merits, it will light you up with so much joy that you will shine like a STAR.)
Running Close to the Wind is fundamentally FUN. It is essentially fun, and I do not mean that in the sense of, when you boil it down RCttW is nothing but fun – because it is not, there’s a whole lot of other really great stuff in there, rage and philosophy and critiquing power structures and a beautifully blasphemous coat. What I mean is, fun is essential to the make-up of RCttW.
RCttW is a vessel helmed by hilarity. It sails upon a sea of silliness. It is packed to the absolute gills with glee. When I said it’s a fundamentally fun book, I was being wholly literal: fun is fundamental to the structure, plot, tone, characters, messaging and execution of RCttW.
THIS IS AN INEXPRESSIBLY FUN BOOK, MY FRIENDS. INEXPRESSIBLY.
“Listen, though, I can’t decide–do you think Tev would like it if you delivered me to them hogtied?”
*
“Hello, incandescent one,” Avra said adoringly, lying hogtied at Teveri’s feet on the deck of their ship.
I giggled so much reading this book. When I talked about it with the hubby, I only managed to get through a description of the first chapter before we were both laughing too hard for me to continue. IF YOU WANT A SMASHING, SPARKLING, SIDE-SPLITTING GOOD TIME, THEN MY DEARS, I REALLY CANNOT RECOMMEND RUNNING CLOSE TO THE WIND STRONGLY ENOUGH!
What is it that makes it so funny??? The main character, Avra, is definitely a huge part of it; he is a chaotic trash-goblin with no shame whatsoever, a scrawny, self-professed trollop who is absolutely willing to Cause Problems to get his way (or get some attention)(or when he’s bored).
“You want me to not cause problems. But you see, Markefa, I have decided to cause problems.”
He is ridiculous and over-the-top and semi-manic all the time, and I love him with my whole entire heart.
“So now they’re expecting you to cause problems.”
Avra mulled on this.
“Think of how irritated they would be if you did such a good job that everyone was really nice to you. They’d hate that, no?”
“They would hate that,” Avra agreed, still transfixed in her gaze. “Yes. Yes. I will cause…different problems.”
There’s also the fact that he maybe-probably-definitely has been blessed by a goddess of luck after beating one of her priests at cards, allowing Rowland to arrange the most brilliant and impossible coincidences around him. (Nothing that affects the free will of others, which is a detail I noticed and appreciated a lot, but distractions happening at just the right moment to allow him to sneak past a guard, that kind of thing.) I wouldn’t say the plot relies on these coincidences – coincidence-driven plot might be annoying after a while – but they do add to the plot marvellously, in the same way that sprinkles are not strictly speaking necessary on ice-cream, but do make it indisputably better.
And the fact that Avra himself is extremely sceptical of his so called ‘witchy-luck’??? Honestly makes it even funnier.
“I have a sparkling personality,” Avra said. “I have bags of charisma.”
“Bags of it,” Markefa said, because she was arguably Avra’s best friend on the whole crew. “Bags and bags of charisma you scrounged out of a rubbish heap and carry around with you in damp burlap bags.”
...
If this was the entirety of Running Close to the Wind, it would be more than enough. It would still be excellent. It would already be one of my favourite books of the year! Because there is nothing ‘just’ about entertainment, about a book that makes you laugh; you cannot say something is ‘only’ funny, as if being funny is somehow less than. Anything that brings you delight is priceless.
That would be more than enough.
But Running Close to the Wind is more than a bundle of giggles.
I love it, I love this, I cannot believe one book made me cry AND laugh this hard, why is this not on the bestseller lists, I will write a proper reviI love it, I love this, I cannot believe one book made me cry AND laugh this hard, why is this not on the bestseller lists, I will write a proper review when I get literally any of my brain back because MIND BLOWN BY ALL THE AWESOME!!!...more
HIGHLIGHTS ~magic mushrooms! ~which are magic because MONSTER BLOOD ~the murder weapon…is a tree ~the greatest detective!…who never leaves her room ~how muHIGHLIGHTS ~magic mushrooms! ~which are magic because MONSTER BLOOD ~the murder weapon…is a tree ~the greatest detective!…who never leaves her room ~how much would you give to keep your world going?
I don’t know how to tell you how much sheer FUN this was!
Any story with a genius detective + sidekick combo is inevitably going to get Sherlock Holmes comparisons, but every aspect of The Tainted Cup is wildly original. This is not Katherine Addison’s Angel of the Crows or even Alexis Hall’s The Affair of the Mysterious Letter, both of which are deliberate Sherlock retellings that draw significantly from the source material (the Watson character in both is an ex-military man with a limp and cane, for example, and Angel in particular recreates a number of the cases Sherlock and Watson investigate in Arthur Conan Doyle’s novels).
THIS IS NOT THAT.
AT ALL.
AND I AM SO GLAD.
Bennett has, AGAIN, created a ridiculously interesting world like none I’ve ever seen before – I’m willing to argue it’s his most unique one to date. Here, we have an Empire where life revolves around plants – specifically, magically mutated ones. Houses are built out of fernpaper, while enormous mushrooms keep rooms cool and pillows are stuffed with moss, and potted plants detect whether any guests have been exposed to contagions before they enter the property. More radically, we have hundreds of forms of human augmentation – people who can see in the dark or whose sense of smell is incredibly heightened; people who grow to enormous size and strength; and even people who are functionally immortal. All of these abilities and transformations come from plants and fungi, a little like how we get a lot of our medicine from plants – but much more extreme! Everyone seems to have some kind of augmentation, especially those who work in one of the all-important government branches, and Bennett has made sure all of this is reflected in how people act and even speak; the Empire, for example, has ‘rings’ like a tree, with the inner rings being safer and richer, and the outer rings being in far more danger from the annual attack of leviathans…
Lashes as thick as a stonetree’s trunk
This is the kind of worldbuilding I live for, and the attention to detail made me so happy. Rings! Rings like a tree!! YES THANK YOU MORE PLEASE!!!
The world is fascinating and so well thought-out, but it’s the characters who stole my heart. Kol is our first-person narrator, altered so that he remembers perfectly everything he sees – making him the perfect assistant for a detective who wears a blindfold and rarely leaves her bedroom. Theirs is such an odd set-up that I can’t help but love it; Kol goes to the crime scene, memorises it, then comes back to tell Ana all about it, and Ana then puts the pieces together. Hi, I adore this utterly. And while it’s obvious from the beginning that Ana is a(n extremely eccentric) genius, if you’re paying attention it becomes quite clear that Kol is no slouch either. I don’t think he would recognise it as such, but he does investigate – if he didn’t, he’d be much less use to Ana. He doesn’t just walk through the rooms and take note of all he sees; he puts together what he sees to uncover clues that aren’t immediately apparent, and brings those back to Ana too.
That’s very, very important.
But even the most minor of characters is fully realised; and not just fully realised, but interesting, packed full of quirks and secrets. Possibly (probably) I am far too trusting, but even when Ana swiftly realises that someone on the investigation is, at best, compromised… I couldn’t suspect a single one of the cast. I liked them all so much! Even the ones who are not likeable make for brilliant characters (the best characters are often the ones you wouldn’t want to be friends with in real life, am I right?) Which is not weird, because at this point, I think Bennett’s known for his compelling characters as much as he is his very unique worldbuilding. I just feel like it needs emphasising: the characters here? All of them? Are SO GREAT.
*I received this book for free from the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest reviMY MIND IS FREAKING BLOWN.
STRONACH, YOU'RE A GENIUS.
RTC!
*I received this book for free from the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. This does not affect my opinion of the book or the content of my review.*
Highlights ~whatever you’re reading, I raise you: Māori-inspired science fantasy ~be watchful for tigers ~who needs linear time anyway? ~don’t fuck with aunts ~drown
:my review of book one!:
Whaaaaaaaaaat just happened?
What???
WHAT?!
That was pretty much my immediate reaction to turning the final page of Sunforge.
WHAT EVEN?!
But it’s so good! I definitely didn’t understand it all and I’m going to need to reread it at LEAST two more times to fully catch and process everything, but – IT’S SO GOOD!
I am fucking stunned at how much Stronach can fit into so few pages. I was a little disappointed when I loaded my arc onto my ereader and saw it didn’t quite hit 300 pages – I like my books chonky, and also, how much story can you really pack into 200+ pages?
A LOT. A WHOLE LOT. A FUCKTON, ONE MIGHT SAY. (That’s a joke that will make sense once you read the book.)
And I should have known that, because Dawnhounds, the first book in this series, was also super short, and yet was IMMENSE on the inside. These are books built like the Tardis – and OH MY, the things you’ll see once you step inside! The places it will take you! SAY GOODBYE TO LINEAR TIME AND YOUR UNDERSTANDING OF SPACE!
I thought (and still think)that Dawnhounds was an amazing sci-fantasy. But Sunforge proves that Stronach is a freaking GENIUS.
You want my help? I give you instead the strongest curse of my people: yeah nah, I’m good.”
We heard a bit about Radovan in Dawnhounds, and it’s the setting of this book – a setting that, at least at first, seems much less weird than Hainak! Hainak was a living city with mushroom houses; Radovan has, you know. Buildings that aren’t alive and people who haven’t modified their bodies with plants! It has a kind of Cold War vibe, except for the androids all over the place. Not too hard to wrap your head around!
Which is fortunate, because everything else is very hard to wrap your head around. You thought Dawnhounds was weird??? Yeah, not so much, it turns out. Sunforge makes Dawnhounds look like white surburbia with 2.5 kids and a dog – and if you’ve read Dawnhounds, that should give you an idea of what kind of oh shit levels of ABSOLUTELY OUT-THEREness we’re dealing with this time around.
I sprinkled it with sugar and ate it up with a SPOON, and my darlings, it is DELICIOUS.
“Bury me deep,” he spat, “wrap me in ten shrouds and twelve chains and throw me in the ocean; put my carcass in your largest cannon and fire it at the sun; put as much distance between me and your God as possible, because if you don’t, I will come back as a curse. I swear on my blood and the blood of my people, I will be there when your children are buried; I will be there when their children are buried; I will be there a thousand times over, until the stars lose their fires. I bestow my soul to whichever god or spirit is clever enough to find it; I bestow my curse upon Empire and all her vicious children. Now, hurry up and kill me–I’ve got places to be.”
That being said, I have no idea how to sell you on it without MASSIVE spoilers, so.
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