Perfectly decent followup to Daughter of the Moon Goddess, with the same flowery melodramatic writing style. Where the first book focused on Xingyin’s fight to prove herself a worthy warrior, this one focuses outward, on politics and her family dynamic. There are a few fight scenes, but not as many as in the first book; to make up for it, we get lots of love triangle angst and tense, layered conversations. I appreciated the main antagonist, whose backstory and motivation came together to create a true monster.
Author: librarykat
The Wonder Engine, by T. Kingfisher
Second in a duology, sequel to the excellent Clockwork Boys. This installment takes advantage of the unique strengths of the motley party to combat the seemingly unstoppable forces of giant golems, evil mobsters, and an uncaring bureaucracy; meanwhile, the party’s unique disadvantages (fraught interpersonal relationships, small numbers, lack of allies) continue to work against them. As with the first book, the addictive interplay between the characters is what draws you through the book, even as events get ever more dramatic. Really great finish with a surprising amount of angst, given the lighthearted way in which the series began, but I loved it all and wouldn’t change a thing.
Like Water for Chocolate, by Laura Esquivel
In the opening scene, main character Tita begins crying when her mother is chopping onions, and she is born on a tide of tears that, upon evaporating, leaves enough salt to fill a ten-pound sack. That is when you realize that you are reading a fairy tale, albeit one in which each chapter is centered around a specific recipe, and thus you forgive the one-dimensional wicked mother, the uncaring sister, the frankly unlikeable love interest, Tita’s questionable life choices, and the magical cooking in which every dish transmits the emotion of the cook to the diner (and there are oh so many emotions). I liked how cooking framed the story and many of the scenes were quite sweet, but in general so many of the characters’ decisions were so ridiculous and eye-rolling that it was hard for me to suspend disbelief and enjoy the story completely.
The North-West is our Mother: The Story of Louis Riel’s People, the Métis Nation, by Jean Teillet
This was incredible and eye-opening. I knew vaguely of the existence of the Métis/Michif, but knew nothing of their origins. Descended from early French/English explorers who intermarried with native women, they formed a culture, identity, and political system derived from both origins but unique to their community. After Confederacy, the Canadians began looking west; although the Métis fought desperately to preserve their lands, both in courts and on the battlefield, they were eventually driven out by deceit and by force. The government in Ottawa broke treaty promises, looked the other way when soldiers committed atrocities, derided the Métis as “half-breeds,” and refused even to recognize the Métis as an Indigenous people until as late as 1982. Teillet, a Métis who has fought for Indigenous rights in court, details the heartbreaking efforts of the Métis as they plead with the government for their lands and their lives. Educated by Catholics and raised with surnames like Riel and Dumont and Grant, they well understood the theft of land and livelihood that was happening to them, and were still powerless to stop it. A large part of the account is spent telling the story of Louis Riel, a Métis icon who led the fight for rights and freedoms. He never gave up hope that his people would be recognized as Canadians of equal status, even as the government in Ontario eventually condemned him to death. (Sidebar: apparently his execution was vehemently opposed in Quebec, where his death became a symbol of Anglophone domination.) Teillet also lets Métis women shine: I loved the stories of Marguerite Caron, who demanded to fight alongside the men, and Eleanor Laurent, who sat calmly scrubbing away evidence of her husband’s conspiracy even as soldiers tore apart her house. The story of Cindy Gladue, victim first of violence against Indigenous women, and then of the Canadian justice system, is heartbreaking. If there’s one criticism of Teillet’s book, it’s that she paints the Métis peoples in a very rosy and romantic light… but given that they were abused and maligned for most of Canadian history, it honestly seems only fair.
The Saint of the Bookstore, by Victoria Goddard
Sister Mirabelle is sent to a town to investigate mysteries of saints and miracles, and finds far more than she expected. A sweet, cozy little addition to the series that works well as an introduction, even though it occurs late in the series timeline; it adds dimension to the characters to see them through the eyes of a newcomer, and gives perspective to the crazy things they’ve been through. (And it really makes me wish there were more novels in the series! I’m not usually the kind of fan who bothers authors to write more faster, but this really does whet the appetite for more Greenwing and Dart books. Especially as she hints at a relationship that wasn’t obvious in the main storyline.)
Say Nothing: A True Story of Murder and Memory in Northern Ireland, by Patrick Radden Keefe, read by Matt Blamey
This book about the Troubles, covering the political violence in Northern Ireland from the 1960s to the late 80s, is written so intensely that it feels like a novel. At times you even wish it were a novel, because it’s so inescapably painful to remember that these are real people in history, who lived in terror while their friends and neighbors chose to enact violence and tragedy upon one another. Keefe tells the story by focusing on the individuals. He begins with Jean McConville, a widow who was taken directly from her home while her ten children watched and never seen again. Then he digs into the members of the paramilitary forces likely involved in her disappearance, giving voice to their anger, their pain, and their pride, without excusing their actions in the slightest. As the sad story moves on he also reveals government operations, both clandestine and open, and how those actions may well have done more to continue the violence than to defuse it. The book also covers the I.R.A.’s unlikely evolution from terrorist group to political party, the lies everyone told themselves in order to accept the transition peacefully, and the impact on those left behind, both within and without the I.R.A. Blamey’s Irish-accented narration, quiet but intense, is an amazing way to experience the book. “Say Nothing” is a brilliant title; it touches on the strict code of silence around the actions of the I.R.A., but also points to how those left in the aftermath would rather look the other way than dig up (sometimes literally) the problems that prompted the Troubles in the first place.
Remarkably Bright Creatures, by Shelby Van Pelt
Small town feel-good fiction, in which an elderly woman named Tova makes friends with an elderly aquarium octopus named Marcellus; meanwhile, young Cameron, who can’t seem to maintain a job or a stable relationship, wanders into town. Of course the lives of all three intersect in a way that the reader can easily figure out halfway through the book, but the characters must bumble around for a few more chapters before they figure things out for themselves. Super predictable and relaxing read; great insights into aging, grief, community, and also octopus life.
Sea of Tranquility, by Emily St. John Mandel
This was actually quite lovely. (I did not like her previous Station Eleven and was completely prepared to put this down if it did not work for me.) This novel is purportedly a time-travel novel, as a mysterious effect echoes through the lives of a disillusioned young man in 1912 Canada, a young woman in prepandemic 2020 NYC, an author on tour in 2203, and scientists in the moon colony in 2401. The first half of this book is taken up by atmospheric writing and mysterious hinting; the second half is where the time travel kicks in, and it’s done quite well. Though there’s plenty to keep a reader busy in the time travel area, I think that the real heart of the novel is in the character of the author Olive. Olive’s on a book tour but her heart yearns for home; her book tour has gone on for so long that she barely knows what city she is in or what fan she is addressing at any given moment, feeling as adrift in time and space as any time traveler. As a reader, I can’t help but think that similar circumstances must have prompted the writing of this book.
Fly Girls: How Five Daring Women Defied All Odds and Made Aviation History, by Keith O’Brien, read by Erin Bennett
Fascinating look at the early days of aviation, when male pilots were celebrated for their daring and skill, and women were actively discouraged from trying to fly planes at all. The women profiled in this book are brought to life not just as pilots, but as extremely interesting and driven people. Rich girl Ruth Nichols took flying lessons in secret, then leveraged her connections to raise money for funding for her flights; saleswoman Louise Thaden got free flying lessons from a customer and never looked back; actress Ruth Elder, not content with film stardom, demanded the chance to break records in the sky; mechanic Florence Klingensmith wanted nothing more than to prove she could fly as well or better than the boys… and social worker Amelia Earhart, who was plucked from obscurity by a publisher who wanted a feel-good story, seized control of her narrative and became an advocate for women in aviation. O’Brien fills the book with details of their struggles, quoting men who doubted their abilities and mocked their ambitions, and crediting the women with fighting on. It is enraging and stirring, and you cannot help but be in awe of the strength and determination of the women who fought for the right to simply do what the men were doing already. If I had one criticism of this book it would be that O’Brien sometimes spends just as much time detailing the histories and actions of the men of the time; I would have preferred a greater focus on the women.
The First Fifteen Lives of Harry August, by Claire North
This book is time travel, sort of, except it’s the Groundhog Day type where you don’t get a choice in how it’s done – you just rewind and get your life all over again, which is what happens to narrator Harry August. After he dies, he is reborn exactly where and when he was the first time, except this time he has all the memories of his previous life and is trapped in an infant body. (Yes, this happens fifteen times in the course of the book. Each time, North elides the weird part of having to get diaper trained and learn to walk while fully conscious and in possession of an adult mind, by simply skipping over it to when Harry is six and theoretically capable of asserting agency.) The first half of the book is Harry coming to terms with this strange existence, as well as meeting others who go through something similar; he learns that his fellow travelers – they call themselves kalachakras – have reached a sort of gentlemen’s agreement not to use their foreknowledge to greatly impact history, since that sort of thing can have terrible impacts down the timeline. Then Harry starts getting mysterious warnings passed down from the future, and begins to realize that a disaster is looming that only he can prevent. I enjoyed the ride, and North carried the story along splendidly. Unfortunately, this was the sort of book that’s super fun to read but doesn’t bear up well when you start thinking about the details and how it’s all supposed to work together.