Sequel to The Outside, this novel deals with the reality-warping fallout from Yasira’s actions at the end of the previous book. In her effort to fight off the powerful AI gods and their cybernetic angels, Yasira contaminates an entire world with the chaotic randomness of “the Outside,” changing both the landscape and inhabitants in various ways. Nevertheless the gods and angels still maintain an iron grip on the planet, reducing Yasira, Tiv, and their few friends to a tiny resistance movement. Compared to the first novel, this one has a lot less action and a lot more character study, but I think it’s actually stronger for it; the characters become much more fully-fleshed both as individuals and as a unit. I love the treatment of neurodiversity in this series, and how the various characters consciously adjust their methods of communication to whatever will work best for the listener. The conflicts are by no means resolved at the end of the book, but it’s still a very satisfying read.
Category: quick reaction
Girl in Translation, by Jean Kwok
Kimberly and her mother immigrate to NYC from Hong Kong, but immediately find themselves working in a garment factory owned by Kimberly’s aunt, who has meticulously detailed every cent that they owe her for paying their medical bills, travel expenses, and housing. They “rent” an unheated, barely-furnished space from the aunt and Kimberly must find time to focus on school while not helping out her mother at the factory. She has a ferocious academic talent but little knowledge of English, particularly slurred words or slang. I like how the English that she hears is rendered in the closest word approximations she can manage; for instance, when her public school teacher gives the class a map and says to “fill in allde captal see T’s;” understandably, Kimberly is lost. I also love how Cantonese is rendered word-for-word into English in her conversations with other immigrants, not just the slang terms or idioms but simple, common phrases like “come eat rice!” which is the literal translation of “dinnertime!” Kimberly’s rags-to-riches journey stretches the boundaries of belief, but her experience of being caught between languages and cultures is captured beautifully.
Nevermoor: The Trials of Morrigan Crow
Middle-grade fantasy, because my kids said it was cool (and they were right!). Great beginning, in which young Morrigan is attempting to write apology letters to members of the community; it turned out she is a “cursed child,” cause of bad luck to anyone she encounters, and doomed to die on her eleventh birthday. However, at the last moment, she is whisked away to a magical city called Nevermoor, under the wing of a whimsical and secretive man named Jupiter North. In Nevermoor, Morrigan undergoes trial after trial to try to win a place in the magical city, while making friends and enemies, and getting ever closer to the truth of her “curse” and why Jupiter wanted her so badly. Very satisfying adventure fantasy, and Morrigan’s character strikes the right balance of respect, curiosity, and mischief.
Paladin’s Hope, by T. Kingfisher
Third in the Saint of Steel series, in which traumatized paladins find love with unlikely partners while investigating murder mysteries. (It actually works really well.) The paladin at the center of this book is Galen, who jokes around by day and screams through nightmares in his sleep; the person he grows close to is Piper, a lich-doctor (basically an investigative coroner) with a fierce sense of justice and secrets of his own; the murder mystery involves corpses turning up in rivers with mysterious and varied death-wounds. Nice societal commentary on the role of the gnoles in human society, as well. As with other Kingfisher characters, Galen and Piper are attracted to each other not just because they’re handsome, but because of one another’s competence; as a reader, it’s one of my favorite tropes.
Home Fire, by Kamila Shamsie
This book felt like it took several turns; spoilers ahead. It begins with Isma, a British girl trying to enter the US on a student visa, getting profiled for her Pakistani heritage; once in Boston she is delighted to meet Eamonn, another Londoner, but realizes to her dismay that he’s the son of a prominent UK politician whose advice to fellow Muslims is to assimilate as smoothly as possible. Just when you think this might going to be a story about young love finding a way to build tolerance, the story abruptly pivots away from Isma and focuses on Aneeka, her prettier sister back in the UK, whose photo had caught Eamonn’s eye to the point that he goes back to the UK to hit on her, after which they begin a hugely problematic relationship. BUT THEN the story pivots once more to Aneeka’s twin brother Parvaiz, and we get flashbacks to how he was groomed to follow in their dead father’s footsteps towards terrorism. Everything comes to a massively dramatic conclusion. The story has some really poignant things to say about holding true to one’s culture and religion, and how hard Western society bullies Muslims when they don’t conform to cultural norms, but it all gets somewhat lost in the weird structure of the story.
Stay True, by Hua Hsu
Part coming-of-age memoir, part elegy for a lost friend, this account by Hsu focuses mainly on his college years at Berkeley and how they formed his personality. The son of Taiwanese immigrants in search of an identity, Hsu aligned himself with the alternative to anything that was mainstream, creating zines and looking for undiscovered gems at record shops; when he meets Japanese-American Ken, a fraternity member clad in Abercrombie & Fitch and a fan of Dave Matthews, Hsu initially writes him off. They end up being friends though, teaching one another to love things neither would have chosen, sharing extremely Gen X formative experiences, and growing close in the way that only happens for college kids thrown together for long stretches at a time. However, when Ken becomes the victim of a senseless murder, Hsu is set adrift and must figure out how he wants to define himself once more. The moments in which he muses about all the adult experiences which he was unable to share with Ken are especially poignant.
The Tower at the Edge of the World, by Victoria Goddard
Prequel of sorts to The Hands of the Emperor, though it makes more sense if you read Hands first. This novella details Artorin’s time as the Marwn, the “spare” heir to the throne, and how he dealt with the mental and magical burden of that enforced loneliness. It’s an challenging viewpoint from which to write, since as the Marwn he is robbed of anything like a personal identity; however, it’s neat to watch as his essential mischief and curiosity manages to penetrate the smothering magic around him.
Fire Boy, by Sami Shah
For a novel marketed as YA, this was super violent. I found it jarring to alternate between scenes of graphic sex and torture and the main character’s stammering shyness when attempting to ask out his crush. Set in Pakistan, this novel features teenager Wahid, who just wants to play D&D with his mates and get up the courage to talk to the pretty girl in his class; he doesn’t know why he can see djinn and would rather not think about that part of his life. Unfortunately, supernatural forces come after him anyway, threatening his friends, and he finds himself navigating many of Karachi’s darker and more magical elements in an attempt to save them. Many, many loose ends left dangling for the sequel.
The Land Before Avocado, by Richard Glover
Written as a riposte to people who claim that Australia of the 1960s and 70s was a better time, Glover’s book takes you back to the decade of his childhood in Canberra with witty, biting detail. He amazes his son with facts like the scarcity of avocado and coffee (unrecognizable in the Canberra of today, where sushi rolls and toast come with generous helpings of avocado, and even the tiniest restaurants boast a gleaming espresso machine), and racism, sexism, and corporal punishment are the norm. He mines his own memories as well as those of his radio listeners, and also cites fascinating snippets of the historical record in order to paint a picture of the era. He makes it very clear that he’d take being in the present over the past any day, warts and all, and makes the reader grateful for progress as well.
The Return of Fitzroy Angursell, by Victoria Goddard
This novella takes place between The Hands of the Emperor and At the Feet of the Sun, and I wish I’d read it before the latter, since it does a lot to establish the character of Artorin. He does experience a significant change at the end of the first book, and the contrast that it created in his character between the first and second books was quite jarring to me as a reader. This novella is written from his point of view and details his immediate experiences after the conclusion of the first book, and sets him on the path to becoming who he is in the second; he also meets up with a few of the Red Company. It honestly felt a bit unfinished, as there were more of the Red Company left to meet, and more stories of their meetings yet to tell; however, Artorin does make enough of a peace with his new self to make the ending acceptable. Certain chapters will make a ton more sense to anyone who’s also read Goddard’s Greenwing & Dart series.