One of the best horror anthologies I've ever read. If you're a Filipino angry at everything that plagues us - imperialism, colonization, our corrupt aOne of the best horror anthologies I've ever read. If you're a Filipino angry at everything that plagues us - imperialism, colonization, our corrupt and inefficient government - pick this one up. The blend of uniquely Filipino social commentary and Filipino mythology and folklore is incredibly interesting, not to mention cathartic....more
Tiempo Muerto succeeds at what many gothic novels fail to do: tackle multiple issues and give each one its fair due. In less than 300 pages, Caroline Tiempo Muerto succeeds at what many gothic novels fail to do: tackle multiple issues and give each one its fair due. In less than 300 pages, Caroline Hau manages to weave a compelling tale that feature land-grabbing and the abuse perpetuated by the landed class, how the rich maintain their power and wealth over generations, how the Philippines is bled dry of its skilled workforce who are forced to go abroad by economic circumstances, the desaparecidos, the blend of superstition and colonization that colors our past and influences our future, and how natural disasters regularly batter our country and yet somehow the government is never prepared for them.
The synopsis is misleading. Yes, on its surface, this is indeed the story of an OFW domestic worker and an Ilongga heiress searching for the same woman—the OFW's mother, who was once the heiress's yaya—after she has gone missing in a typhoon. (Funnily enough, as I write this review, Tropical Storm Enteng batters the northern half of the Philippines, with PAGASA predicting that it'll strengthen into a typhoon by Wednesday or Thursday.) But as you continue reading about their journey, you begin to realize that this microcosm of a story is reflective of the modern day Filipino experience as a whole. The Philippines is a nation that can never be truly free of its past, both colonial and otherwise, and that can mean both good and bad things. In the end, the one thing all Filipinos of all backgrounds can do is to never, ever forget where they come from, and what it took to get us here.
"The gifts of other people's stories become my gifts in turn, stories I will pass on to others, so that we may never forget."...more
An absolutely riveting family soap opera set against a fictionalized backdrop of Philippine history: specifically World War II, Martial Law, the econoAn absolutely riveting family soap opera set against a fictionalized backdrop of Philippine history: specifically World War II, Martial Law, the economic crises of the 2000s and the 2010s, and Duterte's presidency. I enjoyed it immensely!
However, I would not recommend reading this unless you're already familiar with Filipino culture and history. ...more
It took me a while to get into this, mostly because it's very much hard science fiction. (Unless of course you're the kind of reader who's into that sIt took me a while to get into this, mostly because it's very much hard science fiction. (Unless of course you're the kind of reader who's into that sort of thing, in which case I think you should pick this up asap.) However, once I had a grasp of how to follow the rhythm of scientific thinking and logical processes (and on that note, in this aspect Ken Liu is a fantastic translator), I deeply enjoyed all the scientific theories and experiments that The Three-Body Problem played with. But aside from its portrayal of some very hard science ideas—at times reading like a physics textbook—this is still a deeply conceptual novel that uses its narrative to discuss philosophical ideals and social issues. This book made me think long and hard about my own preconceived notions of authoritarianism, humanity's self-given status as stewards of the planet, and the good of the whole versus an individual's rights and duties.
However, I found that the characters and the narrative fell flat for me, so much so that I had a hard time enjoying The Three-Body Problem as a fiction book. I almost wish it had been some kind of philosophical or scientific treatise instead. (Which, interestingly enough, is the same criticism I had for R.F. Kuang's Yellowface.) I won't comment too much on the writing style, because while I found it quite wooden and stilted, I acknowledge that it may be that way because it wasn't originally written in English. As someone whose first language also isn't English, I understand deeply how translated works might come across that way and it's definitely not Cixin Liu or Ken Liu's fault. However, I struggled to get a picture of any of the characters in my head, and often found myself losing track of whether the narrator in a certain moment was Ye Wenjie, Wang Miao, or anyone else. The plot and characters are incredibly underdeveloped, and it seems to me that this was done so in order to prop up the philosophical ideas that this book wanted to discuss.
Nevertheless, I found this to be an interesting read and I'm definitely going to continue on with the rest of the trilogy. It's definitely a unique perspective on the concept of First Contact (which I appreciated as a die-hard Star Trek fan, wherein First Contact has always been portrayed as a good thing) and if that's the sort of thing you want to explore, definitely pick up this book....more
I can't believe Nghi Vo included a gothic horror novella in The Singing Hills Cycle. My life is finally complete.
All kidDID SOMEBODY SAY GOTHIC HORROR
I can't believe Nghi Vo included a gothic horror novella in The Singing Hills Cycle. My life is finally complete.
All kidding aside, I absolutely adored The Brides of High Hill. It starts off like a retelling of Bluebeard (which I already loved it for from the very beginning of the book, because Bluebeard retellings are one of my absolute favorite things). Pham Nhung, a young bride, is on her way to the estate of Doi Cao to get married. At first you think that the old lord of Doi Cao is a villain, with multiple vanished wives in his past and a mad son who he keeps drugged and locked away. But Nghi Vo's genius is in that the usual and expected is neatly circumvented, the twists so brilliantly revealed in a way that makes you realize she's been dropping hints all along and that you should've seen it coming.
“The world starts with a story. So do dynasties and eras and wars. So does love, and so does revenge. Everything starts with a story.”
So far, I've loved every single installment of Nghi Vo's The Singing Hills Cycle, but I think I may have found my favorite and highest rated one sinceSo far, I've loved every single installment of Nghi Vo's The Singing Hills Cycle, but I think I may have found my favorite and highest rated one since the first novella! ...more
"Healing is stopping the knife, but it's also tending to the wound. It's letting the disinfectant sting. It's wrapping it in gauze, even if it shows y"Healing is stopping the knife, but it's also tending to the wound. It's letting the disinfectant sting. It's wrapping it in gauze, even if it shows you're fragile. It's giving it time and care until closes over itself."
Back in 2015, I was a pretty active lurker on r/nosleep. I very quickly became obsessed with stories that are now considered creepypasta classics, such as The Left Right Game and The New Fish. But my absolute favorite was Borrasca. The Dark We Know has the exact same creepy mining town vibes that Borrasca does, and for that alone I was ready to give this book the full five stars.
However, Wen-yi Lee takes her craft to a whole new level by putting a fresh, unique spin on the typical story of an isolated dying town. There's so many topics that this book tackles, and it does so in a well-flowing, seamless manner that manages to leave readers on the edge of their seats while also tantalizing them with enough breadcrumbs to lead them to the correct conclusion. And when that reveal comes, it comes with all the satisfaction of correctly guessing the killer or the ghost's motive in a really good horror movie.
I love Asian horror. I would consider myself connoisseur of it. And The Dark We Know is a shining example of what makes Asian horror really great. The ghosts are evil because in life they were oppressed by someone more powerful than them? Check. Complicated family dynamics? Check. The emotionally checked out/neglectful mother shown a little bit of grace and emphasized that she's also just a girl? Asian eldest daughter syndrome? Religious trauma? Check, check, check.
I read this as an e-ARC but I'm definitely getting myself a finished copy once the book's out because I fully intend on rereading this in October. This is the perfect spooky season read!...more
I can honestly say that Nghi Vo is one of the most gifted writers in the short story format. This chilling little tale is atmospherically and thematicI can honestly say that Nghi Vo is one of the most gifted writers in the short story format. This chilling little tale is atmospherically and thematically different from her Singing Hills Cycle novellas, and yet she still absolutely killed it with this one. In just 30 short pages, Nghi Vo manages to paint a vivid picture of a dark and wintry night, a seance gone wrong (or right, depending on how you look at it) and murder most foul.
"I don't know why he killed her," Nina said softly. "What reason could he have had?"
Maryse didn't have an answer for her, but she found herself speaking, thinking of the flash of a pink palm in the water, the river women from all along the length of the great Mississipi. "As many reasons as there are women in the water," she said.
That was such a fun read! You know the vibes that 2000s Filipino rom-coms give? Love on the Second Read feels a little bit like that, only less sexistThat was such a fun read! You know the vibes that 2000s Filipino rom-coms give? Love on the Second Read feels a little bit like that, only less sexist (lol) and packed full to bursting with literary references. Also, I have been yearning for a rivals-to-lovers office romance where the actions of the main characters to each other are just irritating/annoying and not valid grounds for an HR complaint (for reference, I tweeted this in 2021) and FINALLY, Mica De Leon has answered my prayers. Kip and Emma, she a romance editor and he an SFF editor at the same publishing house, have to get over their petty games of one-upmanship to collaborate on a crossover genre novel that could jumpstart their company's flagging sales. This book features them navigating their respective hang-ups about love and previous relationships all while balancing some very interesting bookish dilemmas, and I had a great time throughout the entire journey. Lemme just say that if you happen to like the exploration of how previous relationships and heartbreaks can affect one's current outlook on life and love, then this is definitely the book for you.
De Leon also explores the concept of genres, heavily quoting Neil Gaiman's various essays and speeches where he discusses the fluidity of genre and the futility of genre snobbery. Of course, the obvious example is the manuscript that Kip and Emma have to work on, a novel of crossover appeal which features science fiction, fantasy, and romantic elements. But the beauty of this book is that Love On the Second Read itself contains multitudes: of course, it has very obvious themes of romance and intimacy, but those are interspersed with moments of self-discovery and self-determination, both for Emma and Kip. It made the story deeper and more meaningful for me. ...more
I went into this book thinking there was gonna be a lot of man-eating. Alas.
However, I ended up enjoying it after all. Sometimes, "no plot, just vibesI went into this book thinking there was gonna be a lot of man-eating. Alas.
However, I ended up enjoying it after all. Sometimes, "no plot, just vibes" works for me, and Woman, Eating is definitely one of the books that falls under that category.
I found it a very interesting take on the life of a young woman trying to survive on her own for the first time. Despite the fact that the main character Lydia is a vampire, the things she struggles with are all too hauntingly familiar: sexuality and attraction, loneliness, a desire for human connection, purpose. It's also very clear to me that Lydia has an eating disorder, borne out of her mother's self-hatred for their vampirism—which in and of itself was an interesting take for me on how that kind of deep dislike for one's self can be passed down from mother to daughter, both women of different times but similarly subjugated by society's expectations.
I also really liked how Lydia is very clearly torn between leaving her emotionally abusive mother at a care facility and going out to live her own life, and the gratitude she feels for her vampiric mother saving her life as an infant, turning her, and making sure she never wanted for blood as a child. One of the common criticisms of this book I've seen have been from readers wishing that Claire Kohda had explored Lydia's Asian identity more, but I personally I think being torn between filial piety and one's own personal desires is very Asian.
I picked this up on a whim and I'm glad I did. I really enjoyed it!...more
If I had to describe this book in just one word, it would be elegant. As elegant as the titular Alice. Mookie Katigbak-Lacuesta's trademark graceful aIf I had to describe this book in just one word, it would be elegant. As elegant as the titular Alice. Mookie Katigbak-Lacuesta's trademark graceful and sophisticated way of writing is evident in every word and phrase. Told in vignettes set throughout American-occupied Philippines and WW2-era Manila, Assembling Alice paints a picture of the author's grandmother: a woman to whom life had dealt an awful blow, and who yet never lost sight of who she was. She was an accomplished life-long student who was widely-read and played the piano beautifully, a prolific writer, a pillar of feminine strength, a visionary who believed in the Filipino woman's rights and who deeply loved her country.
In her writings, Alice Feria often posits the question—who is the Filipino? After reading this loving tribute to her memory, I'd like to answer that Alice Feria herself, along with the myriad of women like her, are the Filipino....more
Hamra and the Jungle of Memories is my latest read from Malaysian powerhouse Hanna Alkaf and, like literally everything she’s ever written, I loved itHamra and the Jungle of Memories is my latest read from Malaysian powerhouse Hanna Alkaf and, like literally everything she’s ever written, I loved it. There’s a certain charm to middle grade novels that I, even though I’m literally 30 years old and definitely not the target audience, feel can’t truly be replicated by adult novels. There’s so much magic and hope in the way a child on the cusp of growing up views the world, and Hanna Alkaf truly knows how to tap into that point of view and really draw out the emotions of a reader.
But this book is even more special to me for two reasons. First, although it’s a fantasy novel, it’s also set in the real world during the height of the lockdowns. I’ve always joked about how glad I am that the C-word came about when I was an adult, because I can’t imagine facing the unending loneliness and cabin fever children must have faced during this time. In the book, Hamra is petulant, emotional, and infuriating, but rather than being irritated by this supposed unlikeable character, I couldn’t help but feel so sorry for her. The world has taken so much from her, and it continues to take from her, and as a child she’s in control of almost nothing in her life.
And second, this book really made me miss my Lola. My maternal grandmother passed away last November and Hamra's devotion to her Opah, to the point of braving a quest through the jungles of Langkawi, made me think of her. In the book, Opah has dementia, but even though Hamra misses the Opah who knew her well, was soft and warm and gentle and loving, she knows that that version of her Opah is still there somehow. Every time Hamra described the relationship she had with her grandmother, it made me remember my own. But not in a sad way. I miss my Lola, but I know she’s always loved me, and that will never change.
Lastly, one of my favorite things to do when reading from Southeast Asian authors is compare and contrast between the book and my own knowledge of life in the Philippines, and it’s always such a joy to spot the similarities and note the differences. For instance, in this book I learned that what we call makopa is called jambu in Malaysia! ...more
This was the first piece of Bruneian fiction I've ever read and wow, what an introduction.
The Witch Doctor's Daughter is a rich, thoughtful portrayalThis was the first piece of Bruneian fiction I've ever read and wow, what an introduction.
The Witch Doctor's Daughter is a rich, thoughtful portrayal of life in Kampung Ayer, a neighborhood built on stilts above the Brunei River. The story mostly revolves around the coming of age journey of protagonist Safiyya, a young woman whose parents deal in sometimes-fake, sometimes-real spiritual and supernatural encounters. Throughout the book, she's presented with multiple choices: life in Kampung Ayer versus the remote longhouse in the Bruneian jungle that her mother is from (and the distinctions the book makes between from and of were so heartwrenching), the passionate young teacher from a privileged background or the university researcher who knows the jungles and the river like the back of his hand, her dreams and ambition set against the possibility of becoming a wife and mother. Although the only similarity between Safiyya and myself is the fact that we're Southeast Asian, I deeply felt all the conflict she has about her parents, her duties and responsibilities, love, schooling, her future, and so much more. It was lovely to read about her carving her own path through all those possibilities.
This book somehow manages to be both uniquely Bruneian, such that reading it was an incredibly vivid experience, and also relatable on a deeply personal level to other Southeast Asians.
Honestly, my only criticism (and the reason for the star I knocked off the final rating) was that I felt some of the story beats were tackled in too brief a manner and deserved to be fleshed out even more.
Nevertheless, I highly recommend this book and I'm looking forward to reading more of Kathrina Mohd Daud's work!...more
Listen, this book's premise was chef's kiss. I was all set to rate this 5 stars. But the writing just left a lot to be desired. Parts of the book thatListen, this book's premise was chef's kiss. I was all set to rate this 5 stars. But the writing just left a lot to be desired. Parts of the book that were meant to be exciting, shocking reveals literally had me ho-humming as I turned the page. My friend described this book to me as "it kinda feels like when you're about to cum but didn't" to which I responded "literary blue balls?" and I know EXACTLY what she meant....more
I actually ended up really enjoying this. It's exactly the kind of psychological thriller I eat up. As criminal psychologist Seonkyeong interviews famI actually ended up really enjoying this. It's exactly the kind of psychological thriller I eat up. As criminal psychologist Seonkyeong interviews famous serial killer Yi Byeongdo, she begins noticing parallels between his own background and behavior and that of her stepdaughter Hayeong. Of course, Yi Byeongdo actually ending up giving her advice on how to handle a budding psychopath was a delightful little addition to their Hannibal Lecter-Clarice Starling dynamic that I was not expecting.
However, I did find it to be way too character-driven. I do love character-driven books and I think that some types of stories can function even without a plot. A crime mystery/thriller is not one of those stories. There wasn't nearly enough that made the book move forward. "Snail's pace" would be an understatement. (I took over a month to read this book.)...more
Let me preface this review by saying that at the end of it all, I thoroughly enjoyed Yellowface and do encourage everyone - especially anyone interestLet me preface this review by saying that at the end of it all, I thoroughly enjoyed Yellowface and do encourage everyone - especially anyone interested in joining the publishing industry in any capacity - to read it. I do also have to say that I often wonder how white people in the industry, especially white women, could undergo the absolutely unhinged mental gymnastics it must take to think themselves entitled to BIPOC narratives, and Yellowface was a really interesting take on that.
But there's also a lot that I didn't like about Yellowface as a book. Of all of Kuang's works, this is definitely her weakest.