Category: Young Adult

Maggie Stiefvater Creates a Brave(ly) New World: BRAVELY Review

Why, hello there. It’s been a hot minute, hasn’t it? Been relying on Bookstagram as my venue of choice for the past few months, but a new Maggie Stiefvater ARC will always inspire an un-social media amount of words and thoughts and feelings so LET’S. GO.

I should start with the disclaimer that I’ve avoided all of the Disney Press and Disney-Hyperion remix books for middle grade and YA readers so far, which makes me rather a snob. Why mess with a good thing? Isn’t that a cynical cash grab? Just leave your movies alone, Disney. To be honest, if Bravely weren’t written by my beloved Maggie, master craftsperson that she is, I most likely wouldn’t have picked it up.

Holy shit, am I glad I did.

Is this a sequel to the first Pixar movie to feature female leads, taking place a few years after the events of Brave? Yes, in the sense that all of the characters and places have the same names and the movie’s events are alluded two once or twice. But this story about ancient Scottish mythological beings and the balance between ruin and creation and the nature of true personal change is 100% pure heroin Stiefvater. I am a diehard fan of The Raven Cycle, and revisiting the TRC world through The Dreamer Trilogy has been such a gift for the past few years, but watching Stiefvater sink her creative teeth into a completely new world and mythology is thrilling.

THE STORY

I want to keep this post more spoiler-free than usual, since I’m posting so far before publication (May 3, 2022). Which will be tricky, but here goes.

A few years after the events of Brave, all is well in the kingdom of DunBroch. Merida leads a cozy, if repetitive, life, and so does everyone else in her family. The king is still jolly, the queen is still proper, the triplets are still mischievous, Merida is still fiercely independent. But DunBroch has attracted the attention of outside forces: not only a warlord threatening the borders, but also the Callieach, the Scottish goddess of creation, and Feradach, the god of ruin and destruction. When Merida happens to catch Feradach about to begin his destructive work on DunBroch, she makes a bargain with the god and goddess: now she has one year to bring change to DunBroch and her family members and undo her home’s death sentence. Thus begins a series of journeys, quests, battles internal and external, and a deeper appreciation for the close association between destruction and growth.

THE BABBLE

A reader doesn’t need to have seen the film at all to enjoy this novel. Stiefvater takes this world and these characters and makes them her own, giving them her distinctive flavor of dialogue and wit. Is it nice to hold in your head the film’s stunning visuals of Merida’s wild red hair as she gallops on her horse through the Scottish countryside? (Still need to do that before I die, by the way.) Of course it’s nice. But Stiefvater proves more than up to the task of bringing the world to vivid life anew, and in some ways, I wish I’d been able to meet Merida for the first time through her eyes, rather than occasionally thinking of the cartoon character created mostly by men.

The triplets, in particular, are tweens/early teens now, and each gets his own personality and character arc. The world around DunBroch expands in a way that feels “historical-ish” but still holds an air of myth about it. Feradach and the Callieach will steal your heart.

My only slight stumble is the epilogue: I’ve read it two or three times now and…I’m still not entirely sure what it’s saying. I think it’s meant to give me hope about certain plot developments? But maybe not. Normally I would give a book ***1/2 stars for a quibble like that but, just like the Callieach, when I am partial to someone, I cheat.

RATING

****

RANDOM BABBLE

  • I love how Stiefvater sprinkles two or three occurrences of “change DunBroch’s fate” throughout the novel. Clever callback to the movie, and it reclaims the phrase, raising the stakes from a petulant teenager’s catchphrase to the quest to save an entire kingdom from a destructive god.
  • There’s a new character named Leezie and she’s great. Trust me on that.
  • The novel gives wonderful nuance to the concept of whether or not you can change another person (or manipulate them into situations where they might change themselves).
  • I’m fascinated to learn more about how this book came into being. It seems different than the other Disney titles – not part of the Twisted Tales series, for example. Did Disney approach Stiefvater based on her previous work and her unique background? Or did Stiefvater’s agent pitch Disney the story idea (I think Maggie said at one point that she’s been playing with some of these ideas for ages)? It doesn’t really matter, but it would explain why the book feels like it could easily have been a novel about a different fantasy royal family, that just happens to be about the family from Brave.

What’s your favorite Stiefvater read? Are you excited to dive into Bravely?

I’ll Never Let Go, Luck: LUCK OF THE TITANIC Review

Grad school semester finished and family emergency [mostly] addressed, I have time to write blog posts again!

And apologies for the terrible post title, but I just couldn’t help myself. Hopefully it conveys how much I really really really loved this new look at the Titanic voyage. It is in turns enlightening, hilarious, enraging, inspiring, heartbreaking, and hopeful. Stacey Lee has created a wonderful new heroine in Valora Luck and given us a brand new perspective on a story that most of us thought we didn’t need to hear told again.

I’m not a high school teacher, but if I were, I would try to find a way to work Luck of the Titanic into my curriculum somehow.

THE STORY

Valora and Jamie Luck are twins, children of a Chinese man and a British woman, who grew up holding poverty at bay with their parents. With both their parents dead now, the siblings are one another’s only family, but Valora hasn’t seen Jamie in years since he left London to find work elsewhere. Now she’s finally tracked him down: as part of a Chinese-British engine room team that’s supposed to be working the maiden voyage for the largest, most luxurious ocean liner in history. As it turns out, the wealthy woman that Val serves as a housemaid has also bought tickets for both herself and Val on that same ocean liner — and Val sees no reason why her mistress’ last-minute death should prevent her reunion with her brother. Instead, she sneaks on board and, once there, blusters her way into posing as her former employer. She must keep her face hidden, however, to evade the Chinese Exclusion Act, which will prevent any person of Chinese descent from entering the United States without special permission.

Val has a plan to get that permission: when they were children she and Jamie trained themselves to be incredible acrobatic street performers, hustling on London street corners to help their family eat. Val knows that a talent recruiter for Ringling Bros. Circus is on board, and she intends to convince him to hire both of them as legitimate American immigrants. Jamie, however, has found a new home with his engine room crew (the “Johnnies”), and doesn’t seem too keen on going to America to join the circus. Thus begins a story of push and pull, with Jamie regaining his hope and Val gradually joining his new family on the lower decks. All the while, Val must keep her secret identity from being discovered. And of course the Titanic and a certain iceberg have irreversible plans of their own.

Oh, right! The iceberg!

THE BABBLE

[From here there be spoilers. But not too many because I don’t want to spoil it for you.]

So let’s just get the most important question out of the way first: is this book an adaptation of the movie Titanic? No. And…also kinda yes? I haven’t had a chance to ask Stacey Lee (not yet, though we live in the same area so maybe I’ll get the chance one day) but I have to believe that some of the parallels between Val’s story and the movie plot are intentional. There are similarities in the first class/lower class deck contrasts, a main character getting imprisoned right when the ship starts going down, parts of the final sequence, the cruelty toward the lower class passengers, even hints of a cross-class romance…and so on. But the beauty of those parallels is the way that Lee either subverts the movie’s most famous moments or shines a new light on them through the lens of racial prejudice.

Look, I’m a child of the 90s, so that movie is branded into my psyche. I’ve always thought that one of the more haunting images in the film is the moment when the ship’s crew members, a dozen decks above, lock the doors to the flooding engine rooms and effectively sacrifice the lives of any workers still left in those engine rooms. That’s a haunting image, but Stacey Lee has written an entire novel about the people staffing those engine rooms. Their hopes, their fears, the racism they faced even among other workers in their same class and line of work. She does such a great job of establishing those characters that I actually forgot, for about two-thirds of the book, that OOPS none of the stuff the characters were working toward was ever going to happen because the boat still had to sink.

And the final boat sinking sequence is devastatingly described. Lee tells it in such brilliant detail, you’ll feel as though you’re right there with the characters. That’s all I’m going to say because spoilers.

To be honest, this lands just under 4 stars for me because of the final two pages, which drop some serious plot reveals for which I wanted a little more explanation. I 100% understand why Lee made that stylistic choice, and it’s effective, but still…I wanted the story behind a few of those outcomes.

Seriously though, who cares? This novel is wonderful and so unique. Go forth and read!

RATING

****

RANDOM BABBLE

  • I loved Val’s arc in this novel related to her parents, the way she slowly comes to grips with the fact that Jamie doesn’t share her affections or even her memories of her father.
  • I did some Googling and as far as I can tell, April Hart was not a real person. Which makes me so, so sad.
  • I was grateful that the quietly building romance between Val and Bo didn’t overwhelm the story at all.
  • Excuse me while I go read everything else Stacey Lee has ever written, including and especially The Downstairs Girl, which I already knew I should have read by now…

Someone Tell Me, When is it My Turn? THE OTHER BENNET SISTER Review

“In our house, no-one is obliged to sparkle. Which, I find, makes it far more likely that they might.”

Janice Hadlow, THE OTHER BENNET SISTER

Guess maybe I was right about that posting once or twice a month thing because OOF, grad school. Anyhoo…

I fell head over heels for this book, y’all. I really did. I’m a sucker for revisionist fiction, but I’ll admit I did come to this particular novel with some healthy skepticism – if you’re going to come for the well-known and well-beloved characters of Pride and Prejudice, you’d best not miss.

I enjoyed Longbourn a few years ago, but that book felt more like a Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead for Jane Austen fans: the novel’s plot happened tangentially to the main plot of P&P, only occasionally checking in on the famous story to give us the events we all know so well from the servants’ point of view. In The Other Bennet Sister, we’re seeing famous events through the viewpoint of a supporting character from the novel, poor middle child Mary. P&P traces the stories of Jane, Lydia and, of course, Lizzie. This book is Mary’s chance to shine.

THE STORY

I don’t want to spoil too much, so I won’t spend much time on plot summary, but I will mention that I was surprised by how little time The Other Bennet Sister spends on the familiar events of P&P. We open with glimpses of Mary’s childhood, her strained relationship with her appearance-obsessed mother, her increasing isolation from her other sisters, and her developing interest in philosophical study. We then experience the first third or so of the Pride and Prejudice plot through Mary’s yearning for acceptance and constant small humiliations (I will never watch any version of the excruciating scene in which she plays pianoforte and sings at the Netherfield ball the same way again). Shortly after Mr. Collins leaves town, having secured Charlotte Lucas as his wife, we finish retracing P&P and jump way ahead to after Lizzie and Jane have married and settled down with their respective partners.

That’s Part One. In Part Two, Mary has been left living alone with her parents (Kitty also married quickly once the family became rich again) and must figure out what her place will be within her family. With which relative will she settle? To whom will she be the least “burden”? The novel deals sensitively with the bleak realities facing unmarried women even in wealthy families, and deals particularly well with Mary’s sad awkwardness upon revisiting Longbourn, her childhood home, once the Collinses take residence there.

That visit back to Longbourn, and the threat of having to become a governess, inspires a trip to London and Mary’s slow blossoming into a more independent woman away from the stifling judgement of her family. Of course, she finds herself the attention of two suitors. Of course, she finds the happiness she deserves. But she also finds self-respect, which feels just as deserved if not more so.

THE BABBLE

First off, if you’re going to riff on Austen then you need to do justice to Austen’s writing style, and I feel that Hadlow excels here. Hadlow does not try to make a direct imitation, but the voice sounds similar enough that you feel as though you have slipped back into the familiar world of Longbourn, Netherfield, Pemberley, and beyond.

Secondly, I love this novel if for no other reason than it finally gives credence to those of us who have been screaming at Mrs. Bennet for years something along the lines of “WHY ARE YOU SHOVING LIZZIE AT MR. COLLINS WHEN THE ANSWER IS CLEARLY MARY, YOU RIDICULOUS WOMAN!” But it also gives credible motivation for Mrs. Bennet’s actions, so, many thanks to Hadlow for that nod without it feeling like simple fan service. In fact, Hadlow seems to be on a quest here to rebrand two of Austen’s two most-ridiculed characters from the novel, giving depth not only to Mary but to Mr. Collins as well. Mary’s visit back to Longbourn was ultimately one of my favorite sequences of the entire book, rich in meaning and character development, and not just because I’m fascinated by the idea of Longbourn ownership these days. One objection, though: I’ve always been a fan of Charlotte Lucas, and it feels as if Hadlow’s vision requires some reworking of Charlotte’s character in a way that isn’t entirely flattering. I love the idea of Charlotte seeing Mary early on as a kindred spirit and similar “at-risk” young woman, and taking her under wing with pragmatic advice. But later her pragmatism comes across as coldness, heartbreaking to both Mary and Mr. Collins, and also to me. Charlotte may not be romantic, but she’s also never struck me as blunt to the point of being cruel.

I do love that the Gardiners once again come to the rescue of a Bennet sister, and this time truly help her to blossom and grow into a woman. The Gardiners don’t just offer Mary a chance to escape her family, they offer her a chance to escape her old self. And the fact that Mary, not Lizzie, winds up taking that long-awaited trip to the Lake District with her Aunt and Uncle feels exactly right. She is finally learning to appreciate poetry, after all. Lizzie didn’t need the Lakes. Mary does.

Much as I enjoyed watching Mary come into her own once the Gardiners adopted her into their family unit, I found the London third of the book the least interesting, if I’m being honest. Perhaps because it felt like dropping back into romantic comedy conventions after a heartfelt exploration of 18th-century womanhood and marriage? Or perhaps because I could see where this part of the story was headed from a mile a way.

But who cares? I loved it all. I dub this new required reading for any diehard Austen fan. So go forth, and read!

RATING:

* * * 1/2

RANDOM BABBLE:

  • One ridiculed Austen character whom Hadlow doesn’t seem interested in revising: Lady Catherine de Bourgh. She’s as delightfully abominable as ever. Never change, Lady C.
  • Points for callbacks to Mr. Collins’ gardening.
  • Hill is still the best, forever and ever. What that woman has seen/put up with, I swear…
  • The parallels to P&P plot structure at the very end might have either annoyed me or charmed me. They charmed me, because they were just different enough to be callbacks rather than hitting me over the head. (So, like, clearly not written by J.J. Abrams. For example.)
  • Okay, one other quibble about Charlotte revisions then I’ll shut up about it: the book implies that Charlotte and Lizzie’s friendship never quite recovers from Charlotte’s announcement of her engagement to Mr. Collins. But wouldn’t that…significantly mess with the plot of P&P? Maybe I’m overthinking it.
  • I like the subtle work that Hadlow does on the relationship between Mary and Lizzie, and the ups and downs of sisterly affection.
  • I’m glad we got a brief glimpse of Spectacles Boy at the end. He was so nice! My heart broke for both of them at the beginning.

And for real, here’s how I want to see Charlotte and Lizzie forever:

A VOW SO BOLD AND DEADLY Review: Cursebreak and Heartbreak and a Smashing Finale

“Had I known you were my brother,” he says, his voice rough and trembling, “I would have forced you to leave on the very first day of her curse.”

I shake my head. “Had I known you were my brother, I would have stayed by your side just the same.”

Brigid Kemmerer, A VOW SO BOLD AND DEADLY

Is there any feeling so simultaneously filled with excitement and despair as beginning the final book in a series that you really love? Finally, you get to learn how the story ends! But that means the story is ending. After you finish, that’s it. No more new adventures with these characters. (At least in theory. In these days of blockbuster publishing, who knows.)

I love the Cursebreaker series. I flew through A Curse so Dark and Lonely in a single sitting. For a story whose basic bones have been told a gazillion times, I thought it was fresh and intricate and convincing and just fun. (Apparently YA Beauty and the Beast retellings are thing that I gravitate toward? Didn’t plan it that way, but what can you do.) I loved these characters and I wanted them to succeed. ALL of them. Which Kemmerer deliberately sets up as a problem.

The world of Emberfall and Syl Shallow is a world in which four potential rulers wish for peace, but the world itself might not be set up for peace. Kinda like our world. How can they navigate political rifts and potentially permanent rifts with one another? Can Kemmerer stick the landing after spending her entire second novel complicating the heroes from her first?

THE STORY SO FAR

[FROM HERE THERE BE SPOILERS FOR THE WHOLE SERIES. OBVIOUSLY.]

A Curse so Dark and Lonely sets out a particularly bleak Beauty and the Beast remix premise: the enchantress whom spoiled Prince Rhen refused was straight-up deranged and evil, and cursed him to become a deadly monster every few months that would wage terror upon his family and his people. In the interim months, or “season,” his one Royal guard left alive after the first few monster attacks will travel through a portal to a parallel realm to fetch a girl for the prince to woo. If the girl can fall in love with Rhen even after finding out that he’s the monster, then the curse is broken. If not, then monster Rhen probably kills some more people before the curse resets, at which point Rhen and his guard, Grey, return to exactly how they were at the beginning yet the dead remain dead (including Rhen’s entire family). For some reason, the magic portal opens into Washington, D.C. At the start of the novel, Grey accidentally brings back Harper, one of my favorite YA fantasy heroines in quite some time. Harper doesn’t take kindly to learning that she’s trapped in a fantasy kingdom called Emberfall, where the populace is struggling under threat of invasion from a neighboring kingdom called Syl Shallow. From here, it’s Beauty and the Beast, so you can guess how the story goes. But just take my word for it that it goes there very enjoyably, alternating POV between Harper and Rhen — except for a crucial final chapter from the POV of Grey.

A Heart so Fierce and Broken seems to spend most of its time undercutting Harper and Rhen, whom we grew to love in the first novel. We don’t get to spend much time with them, instead alternating POV between Grey and Lia Mara, elder daughter of the vicious queen of Syl Shallow. (While Lia Mara turns out to be an excellent heroine on her own and a worthwhile Harper stand-in, I found Grey a little wooden in this novel. He had more life in the first novel as a foil for Harper or Rhen. But perhaps that was the point–he’s still figuring out who he is away from them.) Turns out Grey is the real heir to the throne of Emberfall, the dead King’s first son with a different enchantress. That means Grey can also wield magic. Both of these facts combined absolutely terrify Rhen, who received the worst of the torture from the enchantress Lillith during Emberfall’s curse. Rhen’s PTSD inspires him to act violently toward his former guard and companion, and Grey becomes a fugitive and ally for Lia Mara, seeking asylum in Syl Shallow. Lia Mara, who wishes for her country to seek peace with Emberfall rather than invading, becomes queen of Syl Shallow by the novel’s end. In a final chapter from Rhen’s POV, we learn that Lillith survived Grey’s supposed death blow at the end of the first novel, and Rhen makes another deal with her: he will fight against Grey to keep his throne, if she will promise not to harm Harper.

THE STORY OF A VOW SO BOLD AND DEADLY

After two novels focusing on our two separate pairs of lovers, it’s time to mix them all together! Vow alternates between Team Emberfall and Team Syl Shallow, focusing on Harper and Rhen POV chapters for a little while before switching over to Grey and Lia Mara, and back again and back again. Neither kingdom is inclined to trust its current ruler: Lia Mara’s subjects don’t believe she’s bloodthirsty enough to rule effectively, and they fear Grey’s magic, while Rhen’s people protest that he isn’t the rightful heir. Moreover, while Grey and Lia Mara seem to have a functioning partnership, Harper’s partnership with Rhen is crumbling. She’s having trouble forgiving him for the way that he tortured Grey in the last novel, and he’s having trouble forgiving himself. Also, Lillith is back to emotionally, mentally, and physically abuse Rhen when no one’s watching. Harper and Rhen finally mend their relationship when Rhen confides in her about his new deal with Lillith, and Rhen agrees to seek peace. Only by then it’s too late: an enraged Lillith brutalizes Rhen and all in the castle, and Harper barely escapes with her life to Syl Shallow, where she begs for Grey’s help. Grey, Lia Mara, and their team do ultimately join in the fight to destroy Lillith…and because I don’t want to spoil everything for you, I’m not going to detail how, but let’s just say I cried. In the end, Rhen agrees to yield the throne to Grey and acts as his advisor.

THE BABBLE

Okie dokie. So. I love these characters, and with the exception of one quibble* (see below) I feel as though this final volume does right by them. Grey comes into his own not only as a leader but as a fleshed-out character in this book. I loved seeing the payoff of the hints that Kemmerer has laid for us all along that while we thought this was a fantasy-romance series about princes and plucky YA heroines–and it was that, sometimes–it was really a story about bromance through shared trauma, and how everyone processes trauma differently, and how blood family and found family can sometimes feel the same because they are literally the same. My gods, gentle reader, when I got to the end and Rhen was a monster again and Kemmerer gave us such a delicious twist on the now-tired Frozen trope and Grey went all “Come back to yourself, brother” I was SCREAMING and WEEPING…ahem. I loved that these two young men spend two whole novels claiming that they aren’t friends when they clearly are, and they clearly care for each other very much. Because of course they do. The glimpses Kemmerer gives us of what they suffered together are horrific. They are Samwise and Frodo and I love them.

In some ways, I found that connection a slight weakness as well as a strength, because so much of the characterization for both Rhen and Grey revolves around each character’s relation to the other. What does one think about the other at any given time, and vice versa? How is he reacting to the other’s actions? Harper and Lia Mara, by contrast, feel like much more fully-rounded characters on their own, Harper in particular. And that’s fine with me! If we’re talking about literature geared toward young people and we have to choose, then by all means, let’s please make sure the female characters are more developed than the male ones after many centuries of, you know, that not happening.

Here’s where we get to my small quibble, though: I thought the PTSD focus and narrative structure wound up being a little unfair to Rhen. I like Rhen and I think he’s the most intriguing character in the series. But after three books, I still feel like there’s a gaping hole where his PTSD experience should be. His trauma response becomes such a plot point in Book 2, when his fear of magic drives him to whip Grey nearly to death, and I think we are supposed to feel sympathetic toward Rhen while also feeling sympathetic toward Grey. But every character gets to talk and have opinions about Rhen’s trauma-inspired response to magic, it seems, except for Rhen himself. I get what the books are doing with structure — Kemmerer can’t suddenly shift into Rhen’s POV in book 2, because that book’s dedicated to Grey and Lia Mara — so I don’t have a good solution to this issue, but still. By the time we’re allowed back into Rhen’s head in book 3, he’s mostly back to worrying about holding his kingdom together, worrying about his relationship with Harper, or, near the novel’s climax, just completely and heartbreakingly broken. I felt like we missed an important step.

Like I said, it’s a quibble that doesn’t take away from my enthusiasm for the series as a whole. I can’t wait to sell this novel and this entire series. I loved it! Now come the days of the king. May they be blessed.

RATING

* * * 1/2

RANDOM BABBLE

  • Okay, I know this is supposed to be about Book 3, not Book 1, and I know there’s room for infinite fandoms in the YA fantasy world so no competition necessary, but having read and written about A Court of Thorns and Roses so recently I couldn’t stop comparing these two Beauty and the Beast adaptations and reflecting on how much better I like A Curse so Dark and Lonely. (And before you all come at me: YES I HAVE KEPT GOING IN THE MAAS SERIES, YES YOU WERE RIGHT IT DOES GET BETTER, YES I CALLED IT WHEN I SAID RHYSAND WAS THE OBVIOUS LOVE INTEREST SETUP, YES I AM ALSO EAGERLY AWAITING A COURT OF SLIVER FLAME.) I thought Kemmerer’s work was tighter, the curse itself made WAY more sense, Lillith’s motivations only sorta made sense and they STILL made more sense than Amarantha’s, and this take on the curse narrowed the focus to only two immediate characters (Rhen and Grey) for us to know and care about while upping the stakes to including an entire kingdom of innocent people. Also, the Beast can be useful! Genius.
  • Also, no beast sex. A plus.
  • But still…just as I was thinking maybe I could re-shelve these in my “younger YA” section, I get to Vow and…sexy times. Had to happen eventually. Preferred these to Maas scenes as well, but that’s just me. Though I couldn’t help it, y’all, I did gigglesnort when the consummation for the second teenage pair mirrored the first by also involving the girl murmuring the guy’s name twice.
  • Also about Curse: lots of places where Harper calls Rhen arrogant. I look forward to going back for many re-reads, but…his behavior never seemed all that arrogant to me? Are we to interpret that as Harper’s unwillingness to trust anyone? Did Kemmerer just throw that in there because it’s required terminology for a YA love interest? Or have my standards for arrogance just been skewed by other YA love interests who truly are insufferable twerps? (See: Cardan. Whom I adore.) Discuss.
  • Didn’t mention Jake or Noah above, but they are a delight. Jake giving Grey a hard time after he emerges from Lia Mara’s bedroom was the absolute best thing. I enjoy these books’ approach to representation: Harper has a disability that doesn’t define her, Jake and Noah are gay and it doesn’t define them. People are who they are.
  • I like the unresolved story with Nakiis, and the implication that the trauma Lillith inflicts can cross species.
  • Okay, one more quibble, this one’s tiny and it’s about Lillith: it would have been nice to get a teeeeny bit more explanation about why Lillith could be hurt sometimes, by some people and creatures, in some places, and why not in/by others. But hey, who am I kidding, I’m a Doctor Who fan. Wibbly wobbly timey wimey, I’ll just accept it and move on.

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:

A COURT OF THORNS AND ROSES Review: Beauty and the SortaBeast

Against slavery, against tyranny, I would gladly go to my death, no matter whose freedom I was defending.

A Court of Thorns and Roses, Sarah J. Maas, 2015

After my last post about A Midsummer Night’s Dream, I feel like I’m on a roll with this whole Faerie lore and questionable sex-with-beasts thing, so let’s turn to a story that at least involves fewer issues around consent, shall we?

Sarah J. Maas titles sell like crazy at the bookstore where I work, so I’ve been curious to see what all the fuss is about. This is my first Sarah J. Maas novel and I enjoyed it. I love me some dark fairy tales, and I’m loving the dark faerie revival in YA fantasy. Faeries are clearly the new vampires in YA and I’m here for it — faerie lore feels much more varied and interesting than vampire lore, honestly. (How much can there be to vampire lore? They bite. They fight. They brood. Sometimes they sparkle.) Holly Black is one of my absolute favorite fantasy authors, Melissa Albert is another, and while the Gathering of Faerie books aren’t my favorite of Maggie Stiefvater’s novels (I’m ride or die for Scorpio Races and everything that’s come since, especially The Raven Cycle), they certainly stand head and shoulders above most fantasy books out there. A Court of Thorns and Roses is another fine entry in this genre, as well as a fresh new take on Beauty and the Beast.

And lordy lordy, So. Much. Happens. In this book.

the story

Folks, I just…there is an impressive amount of plot in this novel. So much that by the time I got to the part where most novels would be gearing up for the climactic finale, I was stunned to realize I still had quite a bit of book left to go. (Cue obligatory comparison to Return of the King‘s multiple endings, except that I’m a giant LOTR fan who will argue that each of those endings was dramatically necessary and that, furthermore, the book has even more endings, so really Peter Jackson cut us a break.)

Anyhoo. So. Our heroine is Belle Feyre, and she is a total badass huntress who lives on the edge of town, which lies on the border of Prythian, better known for all intents and purposes as the land of Faerie. In this universe, Faeries once ruled over humans and worked them as laborers before the humans revolted and formed an uneasy treaty many years ago. Feyre spends her days hunting, Katniss-style, to feed and take care of her ungrateful sisters and father. Her family used to be wealthy but times have changed – though she seems to be the only member of the family to have changed with the times.

One day she slays the wrong wolf on a hunt: it’s actually a Faerie warrior in wolf form. Soon that Faerie’s friend, in even bigger Beast form, breaks down her family’s door and steals her away with him to Prythian in retribution. Once in Prythian, she discovers that the Beast is one of the seven High Lords of Faerie, and also Lord of the Spring Court, which is to be her new home. Because this is a Beauty and the Beast adaptation, you know this story. Turns out the Beast/High Lord, name of Tamlin, isn’t all that beastly after all once you get to know him, they fall in love, etc.

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

But not too many spoilers, because seriously, trying to sum up this whole story would take me all day. Suffice it to say that Tamlin and his court are cursed, including Feyre’s attendant/ally/friend Mrs. Potts Alis; Tamlin needs the love of a human who hates faeries to break the curse; also there’s an evil High Queen of Prythian who loves Tamlin (?!) and that’s why she cursed him, which seems a bit much but whatever; and Feyre has to go through a lot of torture and trials before love can prevail. Oh, and also Feyre meets another hot High Lord who seems obsessed with her, and this one has dark hair instead of blonde hair, so you know there must be a love triangle on the way.

the babble

I love Maas’ lush writing style, her vivid descriptions, and the detailed world she’s created here. And damned if she doesn’t know how to write an action sequence. The lore of her particular brand of Faerie culture sounds fascinating, and I look forward to learning more about it in the rest of the books, which I plan to read at some point.

I also appreciated her twists on traditional fairy tale tropes. The strained family dynamics between Feyre and her sisters and her father were so compelling, like something straight out of the Brothers Grimm. And the “impossible tasks” she must complete once she’s imprisoned Under the Mountain — especially the moment when Lucien’s mother helps her with cleaning the floor — come straight from Rumplestiltskin or an old Baba Yaga tale. It’s delicious storytelling.

Not this Rumplestiltskin. Ah, watchable early seasons of OUAT, we hardly knew ye.

Here’s the slight problem: I cared way more about those things than I did about Feyre’s love story with Tamlin — or her budding connection with Rhysand, for that matter. (I’ve had multiple friends look like they’re about to explode from holding in spoilers when I talk about how unconvincing I found Feyre’s soulmate connection to Tamlin and YES I GET IT, GUYS, MAAS IS SETTING UP RHYSAND AS A SECOND LOVE INTEREST.) I would much rather have read more scenes between Feyre and her complicated sister Nesta, or Feyre and Lucien, or Feyre and Alis. Those relationships felt far more compelling to me than her conversations (verbal or physical, *ahem*) with either High Lord. Maybe I’m just getting old and jaded, or maybe it’s that the physical descriptions of Tamlin and Rhysand make them sound like a direct retread of the Rob/Gabriel love triangle from L.J. Smith’s Dark Visions trilogy, which I already read and adored back when I was the right age to believe that true love can bloom just because two people are pretty and because the author tells you it’s blooming. Regardless, while I care about both Feyre and Tamlin in their own right and I’m glad they’re happy (for now?), I don’t feel Maas gave them enough scenes to let their relationship grow naturally.

Also, could it be? Yes it could! A Court of Thorns and Roses brings us to this blog’s first encounter with the YA Green Eyed Love Interest phenomenon, in which YA love interests (usually male, sometimes female) disproportionately have green eyes. Which means this novel receives Bookshelves and Babble’s inaugural Green Eye Eye Roll:

rating

***ish out of 4, but mostly because this blog is public and I don’t want hordes of Maas fans to descend upon me

random babble

  • The scene where Feyre kills that giant worm monster is harrowing and excellently plotted. Feyre is such a badass.
  • I love that Feyre’s name plays on both “faerie” and “fair,” as in beautiful. Well done, Maas.
  • Anyone else out there a Feyre/Lucien shipper, or is it just me? Lucien is the best. More Lucien, please.
  • The structure of this story felt a little…lopsided. The first half or so took its time and was so rich in character development and detail, while the second half felt like a great rush of plot reveals and explanations. And not to be a grouch, but Amarantha’s curse on the Spring Court is oddly and conveniently specific…almost as if it was custom-tailored to suit Feyre and get us to exactly this point in the book! What are the chances.
  • I enjoyed Feyre’s artistic passions and her love of painting. Art provided a great way for Maas to show us the ways in which Prythian has been good for Feyre: after witnessing how she strangled her talent to take care of her family back home, she can finally allow her art to grow and blossom in the Spring Court.
  • Two facts about Teenage Kristin that might help put my reaction to this novel in perspective: (1) While I still enjoy these stories, I especially loved romantic fanstasy/sci fi when I was in middle school and high school. L.J. Smith was my favorite author at the time. I was all about cross-magical species soulmate stories, so if I were still a teen I would probably think this was the most brilliant book I’d ever read and give it 4 out of 4 stars. Except that (2) Teenage Kristin was also an insufferable, prudish Goody Two-Shoes, so those Feyre/Tamlin sex scenes would have made my skin crawl as a teen, just like similar scenes did when I read Stephen King and such. I’m not about to yuck anyone’s yum and I’m definitely about to date myself here, but I can’t help but remember people in my hometown raising eyebrows because a Christopher Pike YA novel described sex in a single sentence. Feyre and Tamlin get whole paragraphs that tell you exactly where he puts his hands and his mouth and his tongue and the like. It’s steamy AF (literally AF). I think he actually rips her literal bodice in beast form at some point. Damn, y’all. BUT. All that being said, I’m here for this new trend of YA sex scenes modeling very clear consent between both partners. (Though I would argue that their first encounter, after the Fire Night celebration, very much does not model consent and instead perpetuates the harmful stereotype of a woman being turned on after the man doesn’t listen to her saying “no” and continues his advances. The fact that he’s magically transformed by a ritual into beast form doesn’t entirely excuse that. So…a draw, then, on the consent issue?)
  • Along the same lines, dear reader, what are your thoughts on this whole “new adult” marketing label in fiction? Do you have the same mixed feelings about it that I do? I understand not wanting to potentially restrict access by placing more mature YA books in the adult section, but…I didn’t have any trouble walking over to the adult fantasy/science fiction section when I was a kid, did you? I took a class related to this subject last semester in my MLIS program and it’s such a thorny discussion topic. (Points if you got my pun there.)