This was stunning and complex. A portrait of death (and dead things walking) and incarnations and reincarnations, of gods playing games and being caugThis was stunning and complex. A portrait of death (and dead things walking) and incarnations and reincarnations, of gods playing games and being caught in the same cycle. I think it would help the reader to have some knowledge of South Asian religions (it helped me certainly) to have a deeper connection to the landscape at play. Chandrasekera's prose is lyrical and inventive. This book is bolder than Saint of Bright Doors in style. Despite magic and zombies-of-a-sort this feels more comfortably science fiction than fantasy or horror.
Genre: speculative fiction/science fiction Sri Lanka, through many ages
A portrait of death (and dead things walking) and incarnations and reincarnations, of gods playing games and being caught in the same cycle, woven seamlessly with South Asian religion and lore. The story spins out over millennia and lifetimes, reaching into the distant past and stretching into the future to the ends of the earth.
I find Vajra Chandrasekera difficult to review. His prose is lyrical and inventive and his style intensely complex in an intellectually stimulating way. Knowing his style, I fully intended to take my time reading Rakesfall, and yet at halfway through I was so invested in the spiral of reincarnation and destruction that I read the entire book in an evening. Having some knowledge of the South Asian religious landscape - the Vedas and Upanishads and Sri Lankan Buddhism helped me connect to the text more deeply. Chandrasekera is playing with traditional themes of reincarnation and mixing with his own interpretation.
This book is bolder than Saint of Bright Doors in style. Despite magic and zombies-of-a-sort this fits more comfortably in the science fiction genre than fantasy or horror. At times it reminded me of a more personal or a slice-of-life version of The Years of Rice and Salt by Kim Stanley Robinson, with the winding epic quality of iterations of life after life. At other times, it reminded me of This is How You Lose the Time War, with entities altering the fabric of the world.
Rakesfall is stunning and complex. The pacing is slow and the book is wordy - I’ve never been more thankful for having wikipedia and a dictionary connected to my kindle - but utterly beautiful. Lush worldbuilding through myth and a variety of styles is a similar technique to Bright Doors, and yet gives us an entirely different and purely wild setting.
Thank you to @tordotcompub for an eARC for review. Rakesfall is out 6/18/24. ...more
This required some patience. It's swirling prose and sweeping story did not quite come together for me overall. But absolutely left me craving Indian This required some patience. It's swirling prose and sweeping story did not quite come together for me overall. But absolutely left me craving Indian food. It's a different kind of love story, very bittersweet in all eras (present and 1930s) set in South Africa, with Desi ex-pats. I enjoyed the different sort of diasporic setting and time.
This is out 1/9.
Genre: fiction Durban, South Africa, 1919-1932 and 2014
Akbar Manzil, a once grand mansion, stands in disrepair by the sea in Durban, South Africa. In 2014, Sana Malek moves to Akbar Manzil with her father. He’s grieving from her mother’s death four years prior. She carries the burden of being the surviving conjoined twin, haunted by her sister who died shortly after they were separated. Everyone in Akbar Manzil has a story, but the most interesting story is one from 1932 that Sana uncovers in the form of journals: the story of Akbar Ali Khan and his second wife Meena. As Sana reads these journals, she finds herself drawn to Meena’s story, of all she’s given up in order to live a life of sweeping love and devotion.
The Djinn Waits a Hundred Years is a slowly unfolding story of love, family, and what it takes to grant forgiveness. It’s also a ghost story, with ghosts of everyone’s pasts echoing in the dilapidated mansion. Akbar Ali Khan is a Muslim and devotee of the Sufi poets, and the tone of the novel mirrors that reflective and poetic tone of Rumi and Hafez. There is a haunting quality to Sufi poetry–in its absolute devotion to the Divine–and Shubnum Khan captures that eloquently.
The widespread roots of the story come from India, with Desi main characters in both timelines. I love reading stories set in the South Asian Diaspora. Sana’s father, in his grief, taught himself to cook, in part because his wife never could. Grieving through cooking is something tangible and relatable, and it’s amusing because he clearly has learned from cookbooks rather than from women who cook. He’s often found muttering in the corridors about spices. It’s touching because his experience is both wholly irrelevant to the plot, and yet completely relevant to the nature of human experience.
The story has a lot of thoughtful points, but takes a long time to build and doesn’t always connect the points. If you have the patience for a slow unfolding and sweeping story with only the absolute lightest touch of magic - the liminal space between life and death where the Djinn and Sana’s sister reside - this will pay off for you. Be prepared for a craving for samosas, daal, and dosas.
Thank you to Viking Penguin and NetGalley for an eARC for review. The Djinn Waits a Hundred Years is out 1/9/24. ...more
Set in contemporary Kolkata, bridging two worlds. Full of dragon lore of course. With references to Smaug and Anne McCaffrey, also Nagas of South AsiaSet in contemporary Kolkata, bridging two worlds. Full of dragon lore of course. With references to Smaug and Anne McCaffrey, also Nagas of South Asia and influences from Chinese dragon culture, too. Discussions of religion, identity, race, and gender, of memory and forgetting and vanishing. Utterly gorgeous.
Genre: speculative fiction Calcutta, present day
Ru, a young boy living in Calcutta, knows his family is different. They use a Christian last name, but don’t practice Christianity, and Ru’s classmates tease him for his racial differences. His parents are oddly elusive over telling him their origins. “You wouldn’t believe it if we told you,” they always say. Any time Ru starts to remember, he must drink the Tea of Forgetfulness. The family keeps to their own small community, Ru feeling slightly unmoored, until he meets Alice, daughter of the owners of the Chinese restaurant. Their friendship gives Ru hope and meaning as he grapples with his identity as more than just an outsider.
The Last Dragoners of Bowbazar is haunting and gorgeous. The lyrical prose fits Ru’s life of swirling memories and broken identity. The novella borrows from dragon lore of South and East Asia, as well as classics of SFF dragon subgenres like Tolkien and McCaffrey. Ru tells himself that dragons aren’t real as he’s imagining Smaug, but the real dragons truly are entirely different. The beauty of the book is unwinding Ru’s identity, discovering the real dragon lore, and basking in pensive prose.
There is a possibility that this was the Meggiest book of 2023, which is fitting because I read it on December 30. It has all of the elements I love in a speculative fiction novella - questions of identity, religious themes (in this case a rejection of the religions of man and an embrace of the religions of the dragons), deep friendship, gender identity, and abiding love in many forms. It’s short, at under 120 pages, and comes with equal measures of challenge and comfort. ...more
When @youshouldreadthisif suggested this was a book "written directly for her" and I read the summary, I knew it would be one for me as well. BlendingWhen @youshouldreadthisif suggested this was a book "written directly for her" and I read the summary, I knew it would be one for me as well. Blending werewolf mythology and religious lore set across Europe, Middle East, and South Asia, and primarily set in 1640s and present day India, this visceral, dark story traces lineages of creativity and desire.
Genre: speculative fiction, horror Kolkata, present day and Mughal Empire, 17th century
Alok meets a man who is half werewolf. His story is intriguing enough that Alok listens. And agrees to take on a project of translation and transcription of several scrolls from the 17th century that tell of a wandering band of shifters sometimes called werewolves, sometimes called djinn, adapting to the tales of the country they inhabit. The other scrolls are written by a woman named Cyrah, and tell of a different origin story entirely. The Devourers weaves wolf-shifter and religious lore from as far north as Fenrir’s Norse lands to Gévaudan’s France and Cyrah’s Mumtazabad.
I read this book a few weeks ago, at the suggestion of @youshouldreadthisif and I don’t think I’ve stopped thinking about the dark, visceral, and corporeal lineages of creativity and conception that The Devourers portrays. Taking dark corners of religious mythologies from Europe, Middle East, and South Asia and blending them with shifter lore creates a tone steeped in magic, superstition, fear, and power. Indra Das reveals only what he needs to as the story progresses, which builds the suspension and power of creativity. (It also makes for a hard review to write, since I don’t want to give too much away.)
As a content warning, there is on-page s3xual a$$ault, told from the woman’s perspective. It’s neither forgiven nor taken as accepted, and yet Das challenges the reader to engage with the offense as a major plot point. If that makes you uncomfortable, this book is not for you.
The strength and beauty of this book lurks in shadows and addresses the disgusting nature of the animal in all of us. Stunning and visceral, and exactly the type of speculative horror I enjoy picking up. Unapologetically queer, The Devourers won a Lambda Award when it was published several years ago.
I listened to the audiobook, which I loved, but was glad to grab an ebook initially as well. Because the book traverses so many cultures (French, Pashto, Bangla, and others), I butchered many of the character spellings without a reference point. But the lyrical prose is well-suited to narration, and the multiple narrators help with the footnotes throughout the text. ...more
Sometimes when you finish a book, you're torn between writing a review immediately or sitting on it for a few days... The Centre is a book I'll probabSometimes when you finish a book, you're torn between writing a review immediately or sitting on it for a few days... The Centre is a book I'll probably spend a long time reflecting on. Thanks to Jordan for a stellar recommendation.
Genre: speculative fiction London, present day
Anisa Ellahi is a thirty-something Pakistani woman living in London who subtitles Bollywood movies but primarily lives off her parents’ allowance. She dreams of translating great literature, but doesn’t have the drive or all of the language skills. Then she meets Adam, linguistic savant, who seems to know a dozen languages, but can barely remember the Urdu phrases she’s teaching him. When he goes away on a business trip, then comes back speaking Urdu at native-speaker proficiency, Anisa begs to hear how he’s done it. Adam swears her to secrecy, then tells her about The Centre.
If you’ve followed me for a bit, you’ll know that I’m obsessed with the roots of colonialism and power, and that extends to the dominance of language and translation: whose stories get told and in what language. The Centre hits a sweet spot for me, as it addresses language of the colonizers and colonized, while stretching the limits of the extent to which someone will go to learn another language.
As an intense speculative book bordering on horror, the stakes are high and the emotion is tense. The book isn’t “scary” in a slasher thriller or ghostly sense, but it’s terrifying in the issues it’s addressing. Pair with Babel by RF Kuang for maximum effect (though the vibes of the book are very different they grapple with very similar issues). The book feels deeply elder millennial in a way I found refreshing, as Anisa reaches for greatness amidst her own feelings of mediocrity and comes away with something entirely different than what she expected.
Racism, colonialism, immigration, identity politics, and power dynamics are all wrapped up with Anisa’s pursuit of learning German and Russian. Ayesha Manazir Siddiqi does a marvelous job of addressing those issues from Anisa’s perspective as a late-30-something middle class Pakistani woman.
I truly can’t say more than this without spoilers, but trust me on this, if any of what I’ve mentioned appeals to you, you’ll like this book.
Once you read this, come chat with me and @jordanian.reads because we want to talk more about the ending with people! Thanks to Jordan for recommending this and saying “trust me on it” because I did and I’m glad.
Thank you to @zandoprojects and netgalley for an eARC for review. The Centre is out 7/11/23! ...more
Genre: South asian urban fantasy/speculative fiction
Part urban fantasy and part thinkpiece on religious cults in modern society, The Saint of Bright DGenre: South asian urban fantasy/speculative fiction
Part urban fantasy and part thinkpiece on religious cults in modern society, The Saint of Bright Doors is as mysterious and mystical as it is thought-provoking. I absolutely loved the setting, which at once feels urban and modern and also fantastical. Junk email and therapy about saints, gods, and cults. Whole worlds being erased and new doors being opened. Bright Doors leans more fantasy or speculative fiction than magical realism.
I worried a little on starting that this would feel like too many other portal magic type books, but it never does feel that way. Fetter is wary of what the doors can bring, but also knows that their existence is a given and he can’t escape them.
Fetter’s sexuality is notable, because queerness of any sort is prosecutable in Luriat. Internment camps are set up ostensibly as quarantine zones to protect citizens from spreading plagues, but while they recognize the plagues can be deadly, it’s also an excuse to monitor citizens.
Sid Sagar’s narration transports the listener to the world of Luriat. He brings a reflective tone to the way he tells a story – a characteristic I first noticed when listening to his narration of Victory City by Salman Rushdie – which brings out the meditative essence of the novel.
This was really interesting, and is one I’ll continue to think about.
Thank you to Tordotcom, MacMillan Audio, and Netgalley for the eARC and ALC. The Saint of Bright Doors is out 7/11/23. ...more
The first of a sapphic trilogy set in a world based on Indian history and epics, written by an author I had previously read and loved, this was a 2021The first of a sapphic trilogy set in a world based on Indian history and epics, written by an author I had previously read and loved, this was a 2021 preorder…that I finally picked up this summer after receiving an ARC of book two. Friends, I’m sorry I sat on this one for so long.
Tasha Suri’s approach to worldbuilding is what drew me into her writing in the Books of Ambha duology, and it reaches a beautiful and lush maturity in The Jasmine Throne. Told primarily from five perspectives, we see a complex world entrenched in legend, magic, and political intrigue. While it’s a simplification of the story, in a way each POC character represents a nuanced version of a different faction, most of them trying to overthrow the current emperor Chandra. The two primary main characters, Priya, a maidservant who was once a child of the Hirana Temple, and Malini, the disgraced sister of the current emperor, are brought together in unlikely circumstances, each trying to manipulate the other to reach their own ends.
One thing that struck me throughout the novel is how blinded the men are by the idea that the women will be imperceptive, lacking in foresight and cunning, and weak. Your hint here, is that it’s a sapphic novel with incredibly smart, strong, and perceptive women, so obviously it’s the men who are often wrong about the nature of reality…. But rarely does a male character admit that he’s wrong. (This felt entirely within character and is an important part of the worldbuilding, too.)
There’s so much more to say about this book than can fit in a small caption, or even a multi-paragraph review…. I listened to the audiobook narrated by Shiromi Arserio, and thought it was fantastic. Her accent complemented the book well. For those less comfortable with epic fantasy audiobooks or Indian names, I’d suggest a combination of text and audiobook. ...more
Coming from a background of knowing Kaikeyi’s story from an academic perspective and with the Ramayana fresh in my mind, I loved watching this play ouComing from a background of knowing Kaikeyi’s story from an academic perspective and with the Ramayana fresh in my mind, I loved watching this play out. You do not need to be familiar with Ramayana in order to read Kaikeyi, and I think Patel does a wonderful job writing for audiences who both know and do not know Kaikeyi’s destiny in advance. But like with the retelling of a Greek myth, or even reading a romance, you may know the ending but reading is about the journey and the stylistic choices by the author.
Most of my academic ponderings on this one would lead to major spoilers for the book, but if you’ve read this one and you’d like to chat, my DMs are open. My masters thesis focused on Sita, Kali, and Radha and representations of goddesses and feminism in Indian religions, so Kaikeyi as a novel sits solidly in my wheelhouse.
This is an impressive debut with what could be considered sensitive subject matter! I listened to the audiobook for most of the book, which makes the first person POV more appealing to me. I also love Soneela Nankani as a narrator (though admit it was a little confusing to listen to two different books narrated simultaneously by her, as I was also listening to Empire of Gold by SA Chakraborty).
While rereading Ramayana initially, I remarked that thanks to Kresley Cole I was imagining Ravana as a cross between Malkom and Sian, and I admit that Patel’s version of the Rakshasa king only reinforced that idea…
I was bound to love this one. It narrowly missed the 5 star mark for me with pacing I sometimes found difficult, but I’d recommend this widely to readers even without prior familiarity with Indian epics. ...more
1920s Bombay is a heated political climate - with one side lobbying for freedom from Great Britain’s rule and another reaping the benefits of colonial1920s Bombay is a heated political climate - with one side lobbying for freedom from Great Britain’s rule and another reaping the benefits of colonialism. Perveen Mistry is a Parsi woman, educated at Oxford, and now serving as a solicitor with her father’s law firm Mistry Law. Unable to try cases at the highest court, she is still uniquely positioned as a confidant and legal representative of women who may be uncomfortable having their case heard by a man. Mere days before Edward VIII, Prince of Wales, is scheduled to arrive in Bombay, Freny Cuttingmaster, a Parsi student at a local college, comes to Perveen asking for legal advice: can her college do anything if she stays away from the parade in honor of the prince as a protest. Days later at the parade, Freny is found dead on the school grounds; the police at the scene claim it must be suicide, but Perveen doesn’t think the facts add up. As she sets to helping Freny’s family by working to solve the mystery of her death, is Perveen risking her own family and reputation in the process?
I absolutely loved stepping back into Perveen’s world. The political backdrop of Prince Edward’s visit to Bombay sets a vivid scene for the mystery of Freny’s death. If there’s one thing I love more than a good cozy mystery, it’s a very well researched cozy mystery, which also places this novel squarely into historical fiction. The book has era-relevant social and class commentary, cultural and religious friction, a colorful cast of characters, a dashing love interest (with a prosthetic leg!), not to mention a singing parrot. As with all series, I do strongly recommend the first two books prior to this one for the character arcs and backstories, but I think this book could still be enjoyable as a standalone. ...more
Sometimes you need a plotless novel where the main character is the land. This was just lovely: from the Andaman Islands to Burma to Thamel, KathmanduSometimes you need a plotless novel where the main character is the land. This was just lovely: from the Andaman Islands to Burma to Thamel, Kathmandu, to the Changthang in Ladakh, this debut novel goes through time, space, elevation, and back to its beginnings with geology and ghosts and religions. This book won't be for everyone, especially because it isn't plot driven, but it's a great novel to get a little lost in. Disclaimer: I have more than a passing knowledge of the regions and cultures discussed for an outsider, and I found myself looking up terms and many of the locations. Have Google handy. ...more
What a fantastic and fun book. 1920s Bombay, the first female solicitor in her city, Perveen Mistry, Parsi and Oxford-educated, gets caught up in solvWhat a fantastic and fun book. 1920s Bombay, the first female solicitor in her city, Perveen Mistry, Parsi and Oxford-educated, gets caught up in solving a crime at the house of a client. I spent the first several chapters googling terms from Parsi and Muslim law and culture, things with which I'm only tangentially familiar. Despite the obvious research that went into the novel and the seriousness of the nature of the treatment of women in the 1920s, it remains generally light-hearted in tone, like a classic detective or murder-mystery. Strong recommend! ...more
Crown of Wishes reminded me of my favorite Ramayana retelling by William Buck. Chokshi has built a world around Indian epics, inserting her own characCrown of Wishes reminded me of my favorite Ramayana retelling by William Buck. Chokshi has built a world around Indian epics, inserting her own characters. I liked Star-Touched Queen slightly better, but was not disappointed by its sequel. ...more
The Ministry of Utmost Happiness reads like opening one page into a secret world, then turning it and finding yourself in another. I've never been oneThe Ministry of Utmost Happiness reads like opening one page into a secret world, then turning it and finding yourself in another. I've never been one for straightforward plots or timelines, and reading it felt somehow comforting. The characters are vivid and memorable, and create their own world that is only passionately and somehow only peripherally affected by the turbulence of India, Pakistan, and Kashmir over the last fifty years. I don't think this is a book for everyone, but I loved it and do highly recommend it. ...more
Rebel Queen, the story of Rani Lakshmi of Jhansi, was a fascinating and well-written blend of fiction and history. Michelle Moran successfully balanceRebel Queen, the story of Rani Lakshmi of Jhansi, was a fascinating and well-written blend of fiction and history. Michelle Moran successfully balances the act of teaching Indian customs to those who are completely unfamiliar with them while not overburdening a reader somewhat knowledgeable of the culture and religion by repeating herself. I found the book even stronger when I read the historical notes: Moran didn't have to do much inventing to make the rani and her Durgavasi more interesting, and thus I felt that the fictional story was able to tell itself seamlessly.
My only complaint about the book was that the end felt too sped up, like we were trying to get to the epilogue, and back to 1919 too quickly. I'd have liked more about Anu's struggles, maybe more about Sita and Anu's father, more about the time at the end between Sita and Anu's reuniting and Sita's departure back to the rani at Gwalior. But minor complaints for an overall fascinating and wonderful read. ...more
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