THE MIDNIGHT HOUR Review: Alternate Magical London for the Steampunk Tween

“Her eyes and heart and head were overfull; the waterfall of images was a wonder, not terrifying, or at least not *just* terrifying. It was a feast, and for all the awfulness of what was happening to her, she knew this was something special she’d take with her for the rest of her life. Which might not be very long if any of the crowd got peckish…”

The Midnight Hour, 2020

Anyone else out there love John Bellairs when they were growing up? I did. I read The House With a Clock in its Walls multiple times, then devoured every other Bellairs title my local library had: The Curse of the Blue Figurine, The Mummy, the Will, and the Crypt, The Trolley to Yesterday, and such. The illustrations in those books were also my introduction to Edward Gorey’s artwork, and I love them for that.

I don’t see Bellairs novels in bookstores or libraries all that often anymore, and that’s too bad, because I haven’t found many newer middle grade books that can match Bellairs’ unique brand of lighthearted gothic mystery. Kate Middleton’s fantastic Greenglass House series comes close, and now The Midnight Hour. In a middle grade market awash in various versions of hidden magical Londons, let’s dive into this new addition, shall we?

the story

The story kicks off just before the stroke of midnight, as Emily Featherhaugh stews upstairs in her bedroom following a heated fight with her mother. Her mother doesn’t fit in with regular society much, and Emily finds her embarrassing. Emily watches a shadowy figure drop off a strange-looking envelope at her house, and soon her mother sets off into the night. When her mother doesn’t return, Emily’s father goes searching for her. When her father doesn’t return, either, Emily goes searching for them both.

[FROM HERE THERE BE SPOILERS. YE HAVE BEEN WARNED.]

Chased by a terrifying and inhuman pursuer, Emily finds her way to the office of the Night Post, which leads her to the Midnight Hour: an alternate realm where London (or a steampunk vision thereof) has been frozen at midnight in the year 1859. Also, it’s populated entirely by magical and mythical creatures, known as the Night Folk, who live in this time pocket as a sanctuary from the Muggles Day Folk. Her father has disappeared into the Night World and her mother has been captured by The Nocturne, one of the three Older Powers who predate all other Night Folk. The Nocturne wants to end the Midnight Hour sanctuary and return to the human world. Emily teams up with a rookie Night World cop (a ghul) named Tarkus to rescue her mom, learning along the way that her mother (1) is a pooka (pucka), (2) was instrumental in creating the Midnight Hour sanctuary and fought The Nocture in the past, and (3) left the Night World to marry a badass member of the Night Post (Emily’s dad) and gave birth to a pooka daughter (Emily herself). Emily must dodge all sorts of dangerous creatures to save her family and the Midnight Hour, and shenanigans ensue.

THE BABBLE

This book is FUN, you guys. And genuinely spooky in places. I opened by talking about John Bellairs because reading the first chapter of The Midnight Hour brought me back to reading his books: an intriguing mystery discovered in the dead of night, suspicion of the supernatural, and adolescent worries. In fact, the first few chapters of this novel are pretty airtight. Great suspense, great action, not to mention the Bear’s manifestation in the Day World is creepy (to the point where I was slightly disappointed to learn that he’s ultimately just a big supernatural bear). I also enjoy the rocky friendship between Emily and Tarkus.

And the Bear isn’t the only terrifying creature here. Many of the Night Folk in the Night World are just ordinary creatures trying to get by, but many of the dark creatures in this world are genuinely dark, which I think plenty of middle grade readers might find refreshing. The whole thing has a very Neil Gaiman vibe –not only did this remind me of his middle grade work like The Graveyard Book (one of my all-time favorites) but it particularly felt like a kid-friendly Neverwhere. A Neverwhere primer, if you will. And that’s fine by me.

If I have an objection to this novel, it’s related to tone. Midnight Hour has two authors, Benjamin Read and Laura Trinder, and as with all writing duos I’m curious to hear how they divided writing labor. I’m especially curious this time because the book blends gothic fantasy writing with, shall we say, Kid Lit Snark Voice. That’s a tricky balance to strike, and the novel doesn’t always blend those two tones seamlessly. Take this paragraph, for instance:

“In the shock of the rhino, she’d missed the building behind them. It loomed, a mix between a tomb and a mansion. It had high arched church windows, a statue-lined path leading up to it, and a giant front door. There was no doubt this was her destination. Great. Not even slightly ominous.”

The Midnight Hour, 2020

See what I mean? Contrast this with the first chapter, which opens with Emily meditating on typical preteen angst about her mother’s inability to understand her and how unfair life is — only to be rudely interrupted by a gothic adventure shortly before midnight. There are places in the novel where smashing these two tones together brilliantly captures the feeling of throwing a modern preteen into a magical version of 1859 London, but to me it occasionally feels a bit jarring or forced.

Lastly, I want to talk about Emily’s “gob,” or her temper. I kinda love that this particular heroine’s quest rides on her having a quick temper. (The Librarian says she has been singled out because she is “difficult,” as is her mother. Ha.) How far we’ve come from girl protagonists in books like The Secret Garden, where the heroine’s entire arc involved our lead learning to control her temper and act more ladylike/civil. Here, it’s not only acceptable, but necessary for Emily to be “difficult.” I’m here for it.

All in all, this is a promising middle grade read. A fun Harry Potter alternative for readers who might find The Bookwanderers too cozy.

RATING

*** out of 4

RANDOM BABBLE

  • I love that the three Older Powers are, eldest to youngest: Music, Art, Language. That detail made my heart sing.
  • It has to be said: I’m not Irish or of (much) Irish descent, but if I was, I might be a little offended by the Irish stereotypes that appear in this novel.
  • Gotta love any final battle sequence that takes place inside the workings of a magical Big Ben. (Not sarcasm, I truly loved it.)
  • As someone fascinated with Puck from A Midsummer Night’s Dream, I geek squealed when the novel casually dropped the detail that pookas generally manifest as a horse, a hound, or a hare. Also, I love that the glass artwork on Emily’s bedroom wall with the three black glass hares comes into play later on with her own shapeshifting form.
  • Is it me, or could Hot Topic just release an entire Midnight Hour-branded line with very little effort?

CHILDREN OF BLOOD AND BONE Review: Basically, Just Go Read this Novel. Right Now.

“You crushed us to build your monarchy on the backs of our blood and bone. Your mistake wasn’t keeping us alive. It was thinking we’d never fight back.”

CHILDREN OF BLOOD AND BONE, Tomi Adeyemi, 2018

Have you read CHILDREN OF BLOOD AND BONE yet? If not, why haven’t you read CHILDREN OF BLOOD AND BONE yet? It’s like a creative cocktail of STAR WARS and BLACK PANTHER and AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER, and also something magically unique unto itself. This novel is a glorious and powerful fantasy work.

Now, if you have the right sort of taste (as in you share my taste), then that description alone should have been all it took to send you scrambling to buy this novel and its sequel from your nearest indie bookstore, preferably a black-owned indie bookstore. But this wouldn’t be much of a blog post if I didn’t write more, so here we go.

THE STORY

Okay. There’s a lot of story here, and I don’t want to spoil too much of it. In the land of Orisha there used to be Maji, people who could wield magic given by the gods. Maji were divided into clans based on the type of magic they wielded (sorta like the nations in A:TLA, only there are lots more clans than nations). But the non-magic kosidán became afraid/jealous/greedy of the maji’s powers, beginning a long war that supposedly ended in a great slaughter of maji called The Raid, which coincided with the retreat of magic and the gods from Orisha. Those of maji blood still exist – and are irrevocably marked by their distinctive white hair – but they have no magic. Over the years the kosidán have become the ruling class and do a textbook job of keeping the maji oppressed to discourage rebellion: maji are referred to by the derogatory slur “maggot,” they are kept in low-wage positions, are punished with unfair taxes, and when they can’t pay those taxes they get forced down the prison pipeline into what is essentially slave labor.

Into this society appear magical artifacts that could restore the link between maji and the gods, thus restoring magic to the maji. A maji girl, Zélie, and her non-magical brother, Tzain, find themselves drawn into a plot to restore magic when Amari, daughter to the ruthless King of Orisha, steals one of the artifacts and runs away. Together the three of them race against time and geography to perform an important ritual needed to restore not just Zélie’s magic, but the magic of every oppressed maji in Orisha. All the while they’re pursued by Inan, Amari’s older brother, who turns out to have some magical abilities of his own. And oh, also Zélie becomes the literal embodiment of Black Girl Magic.

THE BABBLE

What can I say? If you’re looking to read an #OwnVoices book that touches on so many of the issues and emotions behind the Black Lives Matter movement – fear, police brutality, injustice, institutionalized oppression, colorism, proper allyship, economic inequality, and privilege – but also happens to be a damn good adventure fantasy story…this is the book for you. The characters fill archetypes, sure, but they’re also beautifully realized. You will love them by the end, and because Adeyemi writes in rotating first person narrative between three of the main characters, you will love all of them by the end.

Adeyemi walks this tightrope between achingly relevant social commentary and Star Wars-style adventure so expertly, too. At least to this reader’s eyes, YA novels that tackle big issues often tend to just have a character or narration boldly state a political viewpoint (or a straw man position) to save time and get all readers on the same page. Adeyemi never does that, but her point is just as clear. For example, the police brutality and corruption in this novel exist very much within the lived-in, detailed world of Orisha, and that detail makes the parallels to our world feel like a discovery rather than a lecture. Which makes that discovery even more of a punch in the gut. The same with the characters’ viewpoints: these are fully-fleshed characters, so trying on their views as they wrestle with the complex issues at play in a society built on prejudice doesn’t feel like reading a point-counterpoint summary. I know THE HATE U GIVE may always be considered the seminal YA work of the BLM movement, but I’ll be trying my hardest to get this fantasy novel into as many hands as possible as well. I think they both have the same goal, and there is definitely more than enough room for both and more (many more, can we please have more?), but Adeyemi has created the more complex work here.

Do I have any small quibbles? Of course, because I almost always do. Only quibble here is I felt like this novel may have been just as effective with one fewer back-stabbing betrayal, one fewer climax? It’s 544 pages long, after all, so I’d have been just as invested without as many fight scenes. But Adeyemi has written a blockbuster movie in novel form, and most blockbuster movies have a few too many fight scenes, and she knows how to write a fantastic and suspenseful fight scene, so this isn’t much of a complaint.

Read this novel. Just read it. Then give it to all your friends.

RATING

**** out of 4

RANDOM BABBLE

  • No POV chapters for poor Tzain, which is too bad because Tzain’s a wonderful guy.
  • The blackness of Orisha feels so celebratory, rather than feeling like exoticism. One of many reasons why we need to publish more POC authors. (In every genre, but especially in fantasy/sci fi.)
  • Almost too many betrayals go with the almost too many will-they-won’t-they moments, and that’s all I’ll say about that (I’m more than halfway through the second book, CHILDREN OF VIRTUE AND VENGEANCE, and I can confidently say this issue stretches beyond the first book in the series).
  • If Inan’s abilities don’t act as an argument for radical empathy being part of the solution to systematic racism, I don’t know what will. But I’m a theatre kid and book nerd, so of course I’d say that.
  • That moment when Zélie screams, “I am always afraid!” Fuuuuuck.
  • I don’t normally suggest audiobooks over physical books or vice versa, but if you have 17 hours to fill, I highly recommend the audiobook version of this one. Bahni Turpin’s reading is a phenomenal performance that gives new depth to the phrase Black Voices Matter.

Oh, and in case I didn’t make this clear in my review for The Parker Inheritance: