I totally teed this up to provide an emotional balance against Invisible Women. Sequel to Scorpica, which introduced us to the matriarchal society of the Five Queendoms, this book deals with the fallout of the climactic events at the end of the first book, and the various societies’ efforts to find their footing in the new era. Although this book does spend some time with the new young queen of Arca and her fight to secure power, it also spends some time in the queendom of Paxim where efforts were made to raise males to equal the status of females (scoffed at by those who were accustomed to seeing men raised to be servile and submissive), as well as back in Scorpica where the next generation of warriors is rising. Most of the book spends time on various individual storylines, so it is a bit jarring (but quite satisfying) when the various threads abruptly weave together near the end. Lots of interesting plot developments lining for the sequel.
Author: librarykat
Invisible Women: Data Bias in a World Designed for Men, by Caroline Criado Perez
The author is incredibly (and rightfully) angry about the many ways (and there are oh so many) in which women are disadvantaged in our data-driven world, data which was gleaned from centuries in which men were considered the default data set and women were atypical. Her chapters overflow with examples of how discrimination compounds on discrimination (men, who controlled the historical narrative, left out or covered up the accomplishments of women, thereby creating a biased record used by modern-day men to claim that women historically did little and were therefore not worthy of study, thereby continuing a trend of bias, etc etc). This data bias means that women’s health is neglected when it comes to research, drugs, and treatment; that women’s physiology is overlooked when it comes to designing for things like automobiles and buildings; that AIs trained on male-based datasets will invisibly prioritize men over women during job searches, etc. Unfortunately, the laser focus of this book is also its weakness; Criado Perez’s single-minded effort to blame sexism for every negative aspect of society overlooks or ignores other contributing factors, and her extreme gender binary view of the world feels uncomfortably dated. Still, a pretty decent (and very enraging) compilation of sexism overall.
No Man of Woman Born, by Ana Mardoll
This is a selection of short stories in which fables and fairytales are written to center transgender characters, sliding them into tales with gendered prophecies – think Eowyn’s triumphant “I am no man!” moment, but let go of the gender binary. As a theme for a short story collection, it gets old pretty quickly, since the “ha, I’m neither man nor woman, watch me subvert your prophecy!” reveal is at the center of literally every story; however, given that there is almost nothing else out there that features trans characters in fairy tales, I appreciate the collection. The characters are variously trans, nonbinary, and genderfluid; the stories are uniformly sweet but not saccharine. Perfectly good reading but I did have to space the stories out a little for maximum enjoyment.
Six Crimson Cranes, by Elizabeth Lim
This is a take on the Wild Swans fairytale in which heroine Shiori, only daughter of the emperor, sees her brothers cursed into the shape of cranes by her magic-wielding stepmother. To cement the curse, her stepmother magics a bowl onto her head to hide her face, and threatens her brothers with death if she makes even the slightest sound. The only silver lining is that these events stave off Shiori’s unwanted arranged marriage. Naturally, things get even more complicated (almost too overly complicated) as she discovers that her stepmother may not even be the greatest threat to her father’s kingdom. Shiori is a fun heroine to read, brave and defiant despite everything working against her, and although the characterization of practically all the characters is a little one-sided, that’s par for the course in the relatively simplistic world of YA fantasy. First in a series.
Gay Bar: Why We Went Out, by Jeremy Atherton Lin
I was expecting a somewhat more academic treatment of the role of gay bars in society and in history; instead, this is author Atherton Lin exploring his own personal journey through the succession of gay bars that he visited along the way. His perspective, that of an Asian-American navigating London and San Francisco, means that racism occasionally adds an additional layer of alienation onto his experience. He mixes everything together until none of it can be teased apart, from musings about identity and expression in social spheres, to analysis of society’s changing relationship with homosexuality, to detailed descriptions of smells and sensations of bodies in close contact, sometimes all within the same paragraph. He also illustrates ambience by rapidly listing off a succession of musicians, or brands, which I’m sure would have served as anchors for people who recognized them, but for me merely placed his already-foreign (to me) experiences into a landscape which I… didn’t recognize either. Still, it was definitely both educational and entertaining to journey along with Atherton Lin through his past, from adventurous naïf to jaded elder, interrogating society along the way. He doesn’t hesitate to turn the analysis on himself either: “I went out to bars to be literary. I drank to create content. If I earned a reputation for making trouble, it was so that I could write about it the following morning… There was an agency in the retelling, in the self-deprecation and of course self-mythologizing. Memoir is how you groom yourself. Memoir is drag.”
Wundersmith: The Calling of Morrigan Crow, by Jessica Townsend
Sequel to Nevermoor, in which Morrigan begins classes with the rest of her unit at the Wundrous Society. I love the various ways in which friendship and loyalty are expressed and earned in this book, and how Townsend never leaves Morrigan completely alone to fight her battles. I also like that it’s not just the children in these books who get to learn and grow, but also the adults. The villain also seems to have far more complex motivations than Morrigan can comprehend; I look forward to learning more about what’s driving him. Overall a bit darker than the first book, but just as enjoyable. The kids tell me there’s only one book left before we have to wait for the next to be released.
Clary Sage, by Victoria Goddard
Prequel novella to Goddard’s Greenwing and Dart series, exploring the character of Hal, who is quite aware of his responsibilities as the next Imperial Duke and is very solemn about seeing them through. He pops into the series quite fully-formed so it’s interesting to see where he came from, and the sorts of decisions he had to make to get where he is in the main storyline.
The Hourglass Throne, by K.D. Edwards
This is #3 of Edwards’ Tarot Sequence. Everything I said about #2 applies and then some. Despite Rune’s newly elevated rank and new responsibilities, he’s still the same kid deep down who thinks he has to take care of everything and everyone, and it’s refreshing to watch the people around him try to gently convince him to accept help. The antagonist in this book does a lot to flesh out the culture of Old Atlantis vs the new kids in Rune’s generation, and even though it’s a fantasy culture, the parallels to our society are super obvious. Left pining for the next book as usual (except it’s not written yet, sadly, so it’ll be a while).
Last Call, by Tim Powers
Recommended by J because I liked Edwards’ Tarot Sequence, and I can definitely see the similarities – except whereas Edwards’ books are a warm hug, Powers’ book is more of a morbid chill. Yes, there’s a found family; yes, there’s magic tied to cards; yes, there’s a mysterious magic cabal that runs everything… but the engine that runs it all is fueled by deception, death, and sacrifice, and everything is dark and creepy and full of pain. The inevitability of the characters’ paths brings to mind Seanan McGuire’s Seasonal Fears, in which everyone has a predetermined role to play, and their only choice is how wholeheartedly to embrace it; there’s no way to sit out the game, and the only way to survive is to win.
The Cartographers, by Peng Shepherd
I’m not a cartography nerd but I do appreciate a well-crafted map. Nell Young, the heroine of this book, is an extremely Nancy Drew type who can’t leave well enough alone; her discovery of a seemingly worthless old map upends her life and suddenly she’s running from a shadowy cabal of creepy map enthusiasts. Her investigations uncover deep secrets in her parents’ past, and uses the idea of copyright traps as a jumping-off point. I thought the plot got a little forced here and there, and the writing was a little amateurish in places, but I loved the ideas.