I am super late with the September roundup but here we are, finally! Last weekend AFK had two concerts, and then we spent a few days on the coast for a lovely and relaxing spring break, all of which meant I was late getting the final couple of reviews written. Thanks Indigenous People’s Day, for allowing me one more day off from work to rest while the kids go back to school.
An Enchantment of Ravens, by Margaret Rogerson: In the town of Whimsy, elves exchange magic for items of human craft; often, the magic has a dark side. Painter Isobel has learned to be very precise with her dealings with elves, but one day makes a mistake by painting a mortal emotion that she sees in the eyes of Rook, the autumn prince. He demands that she appear in his court to answer for her crime; however, during their journey they find that things have gone very wrong in the elven lands. I really loved Rogerson’s elves, who are prickly, vain, and superficial but in their hearts crave the touching, transient beauty of mortality; I also loved Isobel’s defiant embrace of her own humanity. I rolled my eyes a bit at the relationship between Isobel and Rook, but by the end of the book could not imagine them any other way. Surprisingly good; the book just got better as it went along.
We Were Liars, by E. Lockhart: Points to Lockhart for making you feel sorry for the narrator right off the bat. She’s a poor little rich girl, but her inner pain is vividly portrayed as physical: imaginary knives sink into her skin, objects cleave open her brain, and as blood and viscera pour over her clothes her mother tells her to stand straight and look calm… so she pulls herself together, and does as she is told. As the book goes on, it’s hard to distinguish reality from internal metaphor, but as the clues pile up you begin to understand the origins of her mental disturbance, as well as the ghosts that haunt her wealthy family. The writing style was full of sentence fragments and occasional mid-sentence line breaks; it could have been awkward, but settled quite nicely into the rhythm of stream-of-consciousness narration. Pretty bravely experimental for YA, all things considered.
Untethered Sky, by Fonda Lee: I enjoyed this novella, but I think Lee was so taken by her concept that she neglected character building in favor of worldbuilding coolness. Narrator Ester narrowly escaped a manticore attack that took half her family; her life became laser-focused towards joining the king’s mews, where rukhers tame and fly the giant rocs that are the kingdom’s only defense against the manticores. The core of the book is the dynamic between Ester’s complete devotion to her roc, and the knowledge that the roc is utterly unmoved by her affection or loyalty. The story makes occasional halfhearted forays into politics and propaganda, but Ester’s unwavering dedication to manticore murder gives her character very little room to grow. Pleasant read with very cool giant bird details, but does not feel like a complete story.
On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous, by Ocean Vuong: This is an autobiographical piece written like poetry, which Vuong frames as a letter to his illiterate mother. The writing is gorgeous and heartbreaking; Vuong’s mother is shown lashing out at her young son in one moment, and then her own generational trauma as a war refugee is explored in the next. It’s not an excuse, but an exploration of root causes. Nothing needs to be explained if it’s all out there for you to see. Vuong peppers his experiences with those of his mother’s and grandmother’s, letting us see the impact of racism, class tension, and trauma across generations. He approaches his own experience with love similarly, letting us see his boyfriend in moments of both sweetness and toxic masculinity, showing us just enough of his background to help us recognize him as a product of his surroundings. Vuong has a beautiful deftness with words, and uses them to show how the people in his story manage to communicate love without using words at all.
Gathering Moss, by Robin Wall Kimmerer: I will happily read anything Kimmerer writes; she brings magic to the mundane. She brings two different philosophies to her study of nature: the detail-oriented rigor of her scientific university education, and the reverence and respect toward the world taught by her Potawatomi heritage. When the two approaches are combined, magic happens: tiny mosses and microscopic creatures are described in detail but also given life and spirit: “urgency for departure pulses through [a colony of moss under threat] with remarkable speed” while putting on “a gaudy display of unbridled reproduction.” Science gives her the means to quantify the changes being undergone by the mosses; her Native heritage imbues them with spirit, promoting even greater understanding. Given her voice, mosses under her microscope become rainforests of activity, with rotifers and tardigrades trundling busily among the stems, desiccating impossibly to specks of dust, only to rehydrate to full functionality once their environment contains enough water once more. (The Three Body Problem aliens do exist!) This is a beautiful collection of personal essays about mosses, but it’s also a celebration of nature, and a plea to let it thrive.
Bitter Medicine, by Mia Tsai: This book had all the elements of a story that would hook me: a centuries-old heroine with powers from Chinese mythology, a broodingly handsome French elf secret agent, danger and family drama … but the writing felt so juvenile, it was really hard to get into it. The main characters giggled and bantered like awkward teenagers, not immensely powerful immortal beings, and the tell-don’t-show storytelling constantly spent paragraphs on the background and relationships between characters before falling flat on a meaningless and stilted exchange. The entire first two chapters kept making me wonder if I’d missed a much better prequel, since it has to do so much explaining. Other magical characters seemed thrown in as token representation, and the villains never got any dimension at all. I did finish the book and it did eventually get better, but the characters and their conversation were never as cool as they should have been, given their powers and their supposed lifespans.
Mammoths at the Gates, by Nghi Vo: I teed this book up because I knew I would want to read better writing, and Vo did not disappoint. The fourth book in the Singing Hills Cycle follows cleric Chih back to their home abbey, where they find that things have changed dramatically, tensions are extremely high, and Chih’s normal brand of diplomacy does not have quite the effect they intend. As in the prequels, the real conflict inside the characters’ hearts is what needs to be addressed, and storytelling – and listening – is the way towards truth and healing. Vo’s beautiful writing and loaded conversations let the characters’ emotions shine through.
Anatomy: a Love Story, by Dana Schwartz: This fantasy opens on a couple of 1800s kids who call themselves “resurrection men,” in the act of taking a body from a grave to sell to doctors and other rich folk interested in anatomy… but before they can complete the act, they are targeted by mysterious assailants wielding a strange silvery substance. From that promising start, we transition to the rather more mundane story of Hazel, a woman who wants to be a doctor but needs to be married in order to survive, and Jack, the resurrection man who is just trying to make ends meet. Hazel’s quest to be a doctor, and her serendipitous encounter with Jack who can provide her corpses to study, lead eventually back to the scene that opens the book, but the plot takes its time getting there and the ending feels like it happens rather abruptly. The “love story” in the title is probably supposed to be about Hazel and Jack, but Hazel’s feelings for Jack pale in comparison to how intensely she longs for medical training. Well-written Gothic creepiness throughout, but the characters feel very shallowly sketched, and the pacing could use some work. Still very enjoyable though and I will definitely pick up the sequel.
This Woven Kingdom, by Tahereh Mafi: Alizeh is a lost Jinn princess basically living the life of a little match girl, trying to hide her Jinn features in a world where Jinn are reviled and abused. Kamran is a prince trying to live up to his grandfather’s expectations, worried for the security of his kingdom. Persian myth mixes with court romance to produce an entirely enjoyable fantasy novel, if flowery language and angst-filled forbidden romance is your thing. I found the characters to be a little eye-rolling: Alizeh’s cringing humility did not sit well with her crazy strong magical powers and physical prowess, and Kamran’s epic emo mood swings between self-doubt and tragic duty seemed a bit ridiculous for a prince who was born and raised to power… but it was undeniably a fun ride. Cliffhanger ending into the next book.
A Far Wilder Magic, by Alison Saft: This was so much fun. Margaret Welty is surviving on her own while holding onto the pieces of a private family tragedy; Weston Winters is a dashing alchemist with private dreams, looking desperately for respectability. When he comes to town seeking mentorship from Margaret’s missing mother, the two find themselves unlikely allies in a quest that might benefit them both: they enter the contest to hunt down the mythical hala, a creature out of legend. Margaret and Weston are beautifully drawn characters, and watching them open up to each other throughout the book is a pleasure; the bit characters are lovely too, with their side comments adding more depth to the main plot. The alchemy aspect is interesting but not overexplained, adding just enough magic to give the book a sparkle. I will definitely be looking for more from Saft in future.
Spells for Forgetting, by Adrienne Young: My lack of attention to chapter headings really confused me at the start of this book, because the first person narration switched from August (out-of-place, uncomfortable with attention, full of dark secrets) to Emery (out-of-place, uncomfortable with attention, full of dark secrets) without any more fanfare than a chapter break, so I thought the first couple of chapters were about the same person and had to go back. The writing is very atmospheric, with much attention paid to dramatic whispers of wind through branches and outsize focus on small ominous details. I found the characters very eye-rolling in their emo drama, but it all made sense when I found out that Adrienne Young wrote a lot of YA; I put up with a lot of emo from teenagers, but it’s a bit jarring to read about in (theoretically) grown adults. The characters outside the main couple also seem very shallowly sketched, more YA villain/extra than fully-formed personality. Still a fun read though, especially if you’re in the mood for a slow-burn creepy mystery going into spooky month.
Mooncakes, by Suzanne Walker and Wendy Xu: An entirely adorable graphic novel about Nova Huang, a teenage witch apprenticing at her grandmothers’ New England occult bookshop. One day she finds Tam Lang, an old crush from childhood, battling a horse demon in wolf form. Her grandmothers take Tam in, and together they uncover a dark conspiracy to raise evil magic. The titular mooncakes are only a brief moment in the book but highlight one of its main strengths, which is a very positive image of family support (even if they might have different expectations re: teenager behavior). The relationships between Tam and Nova, and between Nova and her grandparents, are strong and warm and beautiful; the magical aspects are cutely drawn and fun to read. Great book for (Northern Hemisphere) October.
Humble Pi: When Math Goes Wrong in the Real World, by Matt Parker: “The real world is underlain by numbers and software, look at all the situations that can result” is kind of my jam, so I tore through this book despite the fact that Parker’s narrative voice was often jarring for me (it felt very snide and eye-rolling, but I get that sometimes people need entertainment to help wash down their math). Each chapter is a collection of real-world illustrations of why math is important, from bridge and building construction to divide-by-zero errors, insufficiently random randomizers that allowed people to game lotteries, and poorly-done software reuse that brought down entire satellites. I had a great time reading it, and would absolutely read more of the same even with the authorial asides.