A bit late but here’s the book review dump for March. It’s a miscellaneous collection of (1) things people have recommended to me, (2) Australian authors, and stuff that came off my library holds. (See comment section for footnotes.)
Witches Abroad, by Terry Pratchett: I’ve set the kid loose on the witches arc of the Discworld novels and it’s great to experience them anew with him; he is constantly delighted by Pratchett’s witty turns of phrase and insists on reading me sections out loud. To my surprise I’d somehow missed Witches Abroad back when I went through the series, so I got to enjoy it for the first time as well. This one is a delightful mashup of fairy tales, in which the witches abruptly find themselves in the position of fairy godmothers to Emberella, who is not at all interested in marrying the prince (who happens to be a frog). Granny Weatherwax’s past is also involved, which of course she does not want to discuss in the slightest. Pratchett does his usual excellent job marrying snarky parody with surprisingly poignant character development.
The Dictionary of Lost Words, by Pip Williams: Historical fiction, read for the embassy book club. Esme is the daughter of one of the lexicographers working on the first edition of the Oxford English Dictionary; as a child playing under the table, she begins to collect scraps of words deemed ineligible for the dictionary. She slowly begins to realize that the dictionary, a work edited by upper-class educated men, elides many words spoken by women, particularly those of the lower classes. As she grows and fights for a place at the lexicographers’ table, she also builds a collection of women’s words, her Dictionary of Lost Words. Esme never loses her love of words, and her dogged collection of them exposes her (and the reader) to many different parts of pre-WWI England. Great read, especially for history and word nerds.
Democracy Awakening: Notes on the State of America, by Heather Cox Richardson: Richardson’s book takes the reader at a rapid pace through American political history from the Founding Fathers to the Civil War to the Trump administration, at which point she slows right down and walks the reader through events in excruciating detail. Richardson’s connecting thread through time is the use of specific and repeating propaganda, used to create a disaffected minority longing for an imagined past; she cites instances of this exact tactic used throughout American history, wielded by a wealthy minority to incite racial tension, promote authoritarian rule, and devalue American ideals. This phenomenon rises once more in Trump, who repeats those concepts relentlessly in campaigns and in political word and deed. Far from being an anomaly, Richardson places Trump’s MAGA legacy squarely in line with an ugly thread running through American history — one which, she points out, Americans must rise up to defeat over and over again.
City of Bones, by Martha Wells: This is actually one of Wells’ earlier fantasy works, but having read the Murderbot and Raksura books, I can see the roots of her outsider protagonists beginning to form. Khat is an outcast in the desert city of Charisat, valued for his skill at interpreting artifacts, but disdained and forever inferior due to the fact that he is a “kris,” a member of a genetically-engineered species designed to survive in the desert apocalypse outside the city. He pretends not to care, affecting an insouciant loner personality; however, protecting his chosen family is clearly one of his priorities, right alongside his overhelming curiousity about the artifacts of the Ancients, and an inconvenient desire to do right by a powerful Warder who may be befriending him for her own interests. Wells packs a lot of worldbuilding into this book while also managing to keep the tension high with political maneuverings, wary friendships, and occasional mortal danger.
Empire of Silence, by Christopher Ruocchio: Epic sci-fi. You know it’s going to be an epic when it starts out with “sure I’m in prison now, and you all know I’m infamous on a galactic level, but since you want to hear my story, let’s start from childhood…” and then the story unfolds with such intense attention to detail that the guy is still barely a teenager and you’re 90% done with the book and you think, oh, there’s no way we’re going to get to his infamous deeds or why he’s in prison until well into book 2. The narrator is Hadrian Marlowe. Born to rule a planet but denied his birthright, he flees the fate decided by his father and finds himself barely surviving on the streets of a foreign world. Through grit, arrogance, and sheer luck (both good and bad), he finds himself fighting a war he did not ask for, against an enemy he would rather deal with diplomatically but is given no choice but to kill. If you like emo space opera (and I definitely do), this is the book for you!
Dark Heir, by C.S. Pacat: This month I went from emo space opera to emo fantasy. Dark Heir is the sequel to Pacat’s Dark Rise, in which Will and his heroic comrades barely survived an assault by the Dark against the Light, and twist ending that I hesitate to spoil? But it informs the entire plot of this book, so it’s hard to discuss. Suffice it to say that like the prequel, this book is a slow build to an explosive ending, where the payoff is so good that you want to go read the entire thing over again. Pacat’s characters like to think they’re uncomplicated but it turns out that even the most righteous ones take their powers from morally problematic sources. I’m not always a fan of characters reborn from ancient times being trapped into the cycle of their past lives but in this case it is absolutely deliciously done. Well played, Pacat; I’m only annoyed that the third book has yet to be written.
Daisy Jones & The Six, by Taylor Jenkins Reid: I started out reading this, took out the audiobook to enjoy further, then finished off in text because I just needed to get to the end faster. This entire book is written in interview transcript form, and while I was reading I could almost see the TV documentary: each speaker in a featureless room, staring just to one side of the camera, speaking in a conversational tone. Billy Dunne is the lead singer and songwriter in The Six, an up-and-coming band, and most of his songs revolve around how amazing his wife is; Daisy Jones is a solo singer-songwriter in LA with a devil-may-care attitude and a hell of a voice. One day Daisy is invited to record a duet with Billy and the smash success sees Daisy Jones and the Six thrown together for a joint album and tour. Through the voices of Daisy, the members of the Six, and miscellaneous other characters, we get to witness how Billy and Daisy’s talents combine for an explosive, emotional experience, firmly grounded in the 1970s music industry. The format choice worked right from the beginning and the voices were all solid and distinct; it was an adventurous choice that worked really, really well. Now I really need to see the miniseries they made from this book.
The Very Secret Society of Irregular Witches, by Sangu Mandanna: This cozy fantasy is really just the best warm hug. Mika Moon has made her peace with the fact that being a witch means she has to keep herself apart from other witches forever, even though she finds it lonely; however, when she is unexpectedly asked to help raise three young witches who are living together, she can’t help but dive in, even though it breaks all the rules she was taught. Such a soothing and delightful tale of found family and learning to open oneself up to love and trust in others.
Sleep No More, by Seanan McGuire: Seventeenth book in McGuire’s urban fantasy featuring October Daye, the grumpiest half-fae knight of the realm, sees Titania rewriting history and dumping October into the life of a servant, dutifully devoted to her fullblood sister and mother. It’s such a total turnaround for October’s character that it’s amazing to see how well it works; McGuire takes October’s established character trait of fierce, total love for family, and brings that to the forefront of her personality, tamping back the snark and rebelliousness. Eventually though, with the help of other characters, October’s essential chaos-engine righteousness pushes through and she wises up to Titania’s tricks. There are a lot of callbacks to her situation at the very beginning of the series and it’s really neat to see how far she’s come.
Tress of the Emerald Sea, by Brandon Sanderson: Sanderson said he was inspired by the Princess Bride in the writing of this book, which follows practical, determined heroine Tress as she sets out to rescue her love Charlie, a prince unwanted by his family and sent on an impossible mission. It helps to have some knowledge of Sanderson’s overall Cosmere universe, if only to know that the narrator is a universe-jaunting storyteller who is plainly not native to the world, but it’s not necessary to enjoy the story. Tress is an extremely likeable heroine, the cast of characters is wonderful and varied, and Sanderson throws just enough obstacles in Tress’s way to make life interesting. Perfectly enjoyable read.
After the Forest, by Kell Woods: Neat take on an old fairy tale. Now a young woman, Gretel is struggling both with Hansel’s growing gambling debts as well as her reputation as a murderess and a witch. She had stolen a recipe book from the gingerbread house as they were leaving, and although her baked goods help pay their bills, the villagers are suspicious of how magically addictive they are. When a new force of dark magic enters the woods, hand-in-hand with an escalation of war and crippling taxes, Gretel must decide where her loyalties lie. The character building is a little shallow but I love the dark fairytale vibe, and the descriptions of woods in winter are just gorgeous.
The Eyre Affair, by Jasper Fforde: Perfect for fans of literature and sci-fi time travel shenanigans. Thursday Next is a SpecOps LiteraTec whose work ethic is widely respected, despite the fact that her father is a renegade from the Time Travel division and her uncle Mycroft is a crazy genius inventor with odd ideas. Thanks to Mycroft’s Prose Portal, Thursday finds herself trying to rescue Jane Eyre from the clutches of the evil assassin Archeron Hades, who doesn’t hesitate to literally rewrite great works of literature; Thursday also needs to outmaneuver the Goliath Corporation in the form of its agent Jack Schitt, who seems interested only in lining the company’s pockets while sending young soldiers to die in the never-ending Crimean War. Fforde rains down literary references while never letting go of the madcap pace of the book; it’s super nerdy and fun reading.
Everyone in My Family Has Killed Someone, by Benjamin Stevenson: A hilarious meta murder mystery. Narrator Ern (Ernest) Cunningham is well aware of murder mystery tropes and will not hesitate to talk about them to the reader (for instance, even though there’s a murder, his family remains at the ski resort where they were holding their Aussie family reunion, not because they’re snowed in – what a tired trope! – but because they’re too cheap to leave early). Stevenson pulls off the trick of burying hints and clues in plain sight; even as Ern pretends to show the reader everything, some facts are deliberately disguised or elided (which Ern cops to later in the narration). You’d think the very consciously self-referential tone would push you out of the narrative, but I found it funny and compelling. Already have the sequel on hold.
The Jinn-Bot of Shantiport, by Samit Basu: Cyberpunk treatment of the Aladdin story, told from the viewpoint of a storybot who finds himself following around a pair of siblings with a mysterious past. Lina, the Aladdin figure, is an aspiring revolutionary who wants to rescue the sinking city of Shantiport from its corrupt colonist masters; her brother Bador is a monkey-bot with big mecha fighting dreams and an even bigger attitude, who loves his family but thinks they take him for granted. Lina attracts the attention of Not-Prince Juiful, as well as the less welcome attentions of politicians and crime lords; Bador picks fights and idolizes space heroes, and when they finally encounter a lamp with a wish-granting jinn-bot, they try their best to balance their own desires against the needs of the people. Very cool take on the classic.
Johannes Cabal the Necromancer, by Jonathan L. Howard: Johannes Cabal is a prickly, unlikeable antihero who thinks he’s more important than anyone else and doesn’t care who he hurts to get what he wants. In this case, he wants his soul back from the devil – for science! – and accepts a wager from Satan that results in his running a carnival of the damned. Cabal doesn’t get any more likeable as the book goes on, but you end up reluctantly rooting for him anyway. Brisk, clever, and enjoyable writing style; unexpectedly emotional ending.