This is a dark ghost story about the gentrification of a small town, the lives of those negatively affected by it, and how the spirits of the town start fighting back. Ronan Szepessy finds himself returning to Hudson despite the terrible experience of growing up gay and artistic in the small, closed-minded town; when he sees his old neighbors evicted from their homes and developers closing in like sharks, the depth of his hate allows the ghosts of the town to sink their hooks into the citizens, spreading horror and violence. It’s a tough book to read; Ronan is bitter and angry, as are all his fellow citizens both corporeal and not, and there’s not really any light moment to ease the tension. I think this book had urgent things to say about gentrification and how it can kill the spirit of a small town, but it gets drowned in all the violence and weirdness.
Author: librarykat
Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, by Gabrielle Zevin
I began this book and immediately fell into the mental equivalent of a defensive crouch – something along the lines of “oh please don’t be Ready Player One, don’t think to buy my favor with 80s nostalgia while turning a hyper-competent female character into nothing more than a male’s sidekick,” but fortunately the book proved better than that. Yes, Zevin delivers all the lovely 80s nostalgia, but also all the 80s (and 90s, and onward) problems with prioritizing profit over art, rampant misogyny and racism in tech and gaming, etc. Protagonists Sam and Sadie are both intensely flawed creatures whose uncompromising personalities clash constantly with one another, even as their creative geniuses come together to create videogame magic. Both of them make cringingly awful life choices, yet manage to learn and grow without escaping the consequences of their actions. I started out merely tolerating this book but grew to really enjoy it, both for the characters’ journey and the very familiar (to me) details that underpinned it.
Hellbound Guilds and Other Misdirections, by Annette Marie and Rob Jacobsen, read by Iggy Toma
This is the second book from the perspective of Kit Morris, the reformed criminal, police officer in training, and nonstop snark factory. This time Kit finds himself going up against actual demons, who are immune to his psychic magic; he’s also getting nowhere trying to get closer to his partner, the incredibly kickass and unimpressed Agent Lienna Shen. Both Kit and Lienna suffer from a bad case of “won’t ask for help when they really should,” which is annoying to me as a reader; Kit is a loner but Lienna should know better. Toma’s narration remains light and sardonic throughout, which works really well, and his falsetto rendition of Lienna is much less annoying than before.
The Calculating Stars, by Mary Robinette Kowal
In 1952 a huge meteorite obliterates much of the East Coast of the US, forcing the country and the world into an accelerated space race in order to escape the increasingly hostile planet. Elma York, genius mathematician and pilot, gets hired on as a “calculator” but her dream is to be included in the astronaut cadre. Standing in her way: extreme amounts of 1950s misogyny, as well as severe stage fright and imposter syndrome from years of being talked down to by men in technical fields; despite the unceasing support of her husband, it’s an uphill battle. Elma also gets to see little snippets of how racism complicates life even further for women who aren’t as white and privileged as she is. Despite the apocalyptic nature of the situation, the tone of the book is weirdly light; the real conflict is Elma’s battle to get to space. Most of the book is spent on her inner turmoil while precious little attention is paid to the rest of the post-cataclysm world, a balance that didn’t sit well with me.
Jovah’s Angel, by Sharon Shinn
Set 150 years after the first book, Shinn’s Samaria now features da Vinci-esque engineers trying to figure out the secrets of flight (for non-winged non-angels) and transportation. Archangel Alleluia, raised abruptly to the position after her predecessor Delilah suffers an injury, finds herself learning more than she cares to know about the actual mechanics behind the entity they know as Jovah. Soft-spoken Alleluia and her easygoing engineer friend are a pleasure to read; their circumstances are tense but they treat one another with kindness and mutual respect, which is utterly refreshing. A very satisfying conclusion as well, though Shinn leaves the door open for further development.
Critical Point, by S.L. Huang
Next in Huang’s series about Cas Russell, amoral heroine who uses math to kick ass. Although the action is frenetic, with Cas lurching from kidnapping to bombing to fighting off bioengineered guard dogs, the overall pace of the plot is actually almost too leisurely; hints about the shadowy organizations which may or may not be controlling her life remain just hints, and her moral and emotional development is also frustratingly slow. The other characters are refreshing, accepting her strangenesses and allowing her to develop at her own (very slow!) pace, without allowing her to get away with bad behavior.
Record of a Spaceborn Few, by Becky Chambers
I love Becky Chambers and I’m familiar with her Wayfarers series, so I knew I would have to switch rapidly between multiple characters with multiple points of view… but I still found the beginning of this book rough. The viewpoint characters have little to do with one another (at least at first) and the reader is forced to juggle multiple locations, conflicts, and cultural issues for quite some time before things come together. At that point, though, we’re safely back in Chambers’ warm universe where people are all just trying to do their best to understand one another and figure out one another’s needs. The society of a completely spacefaring race and the self-sustaining ecology of their vessels was also really interesting. Good book, eventually.
Bannerless, by Carrie Vaughn
I liked this image of the future, which was postapocalyptic but not precisely dystopian. Following the collapse of civilization, survival is precarious and resources are limited; people must organize themselves into demonstrably productive households before they can earn a “banner,” which gives them license to bear a child. Any children born “bannerless” reflect their parents’ lack of community feeling and responsibility, a shame that carries into adulthood. Main character Enid’s job is to mediate conflict and investigate crimes; when she is called in to investigate a suspicious death, she is startled to discover that someone from her past might be involved. The pacing of this book was a little uneven, bouncing back and forth between Enid’s past and present; however, it did a good job communicating both the challenging climate and the sociopolitical structure of Enid’s world. I liked the contemplative tone but thought that for an investigator, Enid took way too long to figure things out that were already made obvious to the reader.
Roses, in the Mouth of a Lion, by Bushra Rehman
A vivid portrait of growing up queer and Muslim in Corona, Queens. There’s not a lot of plot to tie everything together; it reads more like a series of reminisces of Razia’s childhood as she watches the people around her. Her schoolmates play pranks; her immigrant parents find their community; there are so many details of growing up in the 80’s that at times I wondered if the book were autobiography rather than fiction. Razia’s best friend is torn from her by a rift between their families; she later transfers to another school and forms a relationship with Angela, who is accepting but has trouble understanding the depth to which Razia’s background and culture shapes her actions. I enjoyed this read but once Razia starts going to school outside her neighborhood, the writing felt much less compelling; as a consequence her relationship with Angela, as well as the resultant tension with her family, felt much less gripping. The ending also seemed a bit rushed. Good read overall though.
Archangel, by Sharon Shinn
#1 of the Samaria series, recommended to me by E and such an amazing read. The angel Gabriel has been tapped by Jovah to be the next Archangel, and must find his angelica (spouse) before the people of Samaria gather together to sing the Gloria. Gabriel dutifully goes to the oracle, who consults Jovah (by typing at a computer terminal!) and points him to a human woman named Rachel. Gabriel is startled to find Rachel enslaved; once freed, she is less than enthusiastic about the concept of marrying him at all, much less singing the praises of a god that allowed her people to be slain and herself to be sold into slavery. Though there are tantalizing hints that the world was originally engineered by technologically advanced settlers, the heart of the story is in the characters: Gabriel is righteous and impatient, whereas Rachel is stubborn and proud, and you really feel for both of them. I loved the worldbuilding too, which features a multi-racial, multicultural landscape full of political and economic tensions, which also reflects the tension between the two main characters. I really liked the ending, which brought resolution to the relationship without compromising either character. Looking forward to the rest of the series (and also further explanation of how this world came to be).