When E mentioned that she was reading this book, she called it a “big standard American YA fantasy with racism in North Carolina layered in,” which is a perfect summary. It’s got Cassandra Clare levels of ridiculously attractive teenagers, complex secret magical societies going back centuries, evil monsters to fight, etc, etc. The special sauce in this one is definitely the viewpoint of the Black narrator, who has to navigate racism in the real world alongside the magical one, and whose link to the magical world is intertwined with the race trauma of the country’s history. Narrator Bree, at sixteen, gets admitted into an early college program at UNC Chapel Hill, but finds herself embroiled in an ongoing magical conflict while still having to deal with issues on the home front. Deonn does an amazing job capturing the feeling of being a member of a visible minority going into a snooty, exclusively white environment, where you are almost certainly not welcome, but holding your head up anyway. And I absolutely loved how the plot defiantly made a space for Black people inside the extremely white background of Arthurian legend. Even the developing love triangle doesn’t look like it’ll be too annoying (and the love triangle is a standard building block of the Arthur myth, after all). Very promising start; the sequel is supposed to come out in a couple of months and I will definitely be getting in line.
Tag: genre-fantasy
Whiskeyjack, by Victoria Goddard
Third in the Greenwing and Dart series. This one finally finishes clearing things up for poor bespelled Jemis Greenwing, and sets Dart up for hopefully some resolution of his own in following books. Usually I get a little annoyed with authors when they bring in entire invented fields of literature for their scholars to criticize, but somehow Goddard makes it work; Jemis is such an enthusiastic scholar, and his investigation of clues and hidden puzzles so enthralling, that you really appreciate being along for the ride. The adventure surrounding the investigation doesn’t hurt either: will Jemis be arrested (again) for a crime he didn’t commit (again)? Will he finally be rid of the curses piling up on him? Will he finally clear his name with the gossiping villagers? Great combination of fantasy nerdiness and occasional derring-do; right up my alley.
Where the Drowned Girls Go, by Seanan McGuire
Seventh(?) in the Wayward Children series, this one is less about any one particular child’s journey than about the doorway universe as a whole, which weakens the (usually stellar) character work even as it lays the groundwork for further stories. The insertion of a couple of the characters into the “evil” school counterpart is a bit contrived, but you could tell McGuire wanted to explore the concept of the other school and what made it tick; I’m sure we’ll come back and explore it in following books.
The Goblin Emperor, by Katherine Addison
Maia, an unwanted half-goblin (dark-skinned) unwanted son of the elf (light-skinned) emperor suddenly finds himself thrown in the deep end when his father and older brothers perish suddenly. Scarred with the early loss of his mother and the abuse of the person who raised him afterwards, he carries on doing the best he can despite his ignorance of courtly elf politics and the disadvantage of his breeding. I found this sad reading at first because of just how hurt and lonely Maia was and how much he just needed someone to give him a hug, but between that and the slow-moving, patiently developing plot, it made the eventual emotional turning points that much more rewarding. Kind of unfortunate that I read this so soon after The Hands of the Emperor, which told a similar sort of story but with way more complexity and from a different point of view; I kept wishing it were more like, which diminished my enjoyment of The Goblin Emperor through no fault of its own.
Witchmark, by C.L. Polk
This was… okay. It’s the kind of book where you get the impression that the author loves their protagonists too much to let anything really bad happen to them, which kind of takes any urgency out of the plot; also, the characters all feel like either wish-fulfillment dreamboats or cardboard cutout villains. The protag in question is Miles Singer, a morally upright doctor who works with injured veterans; he constantly fights an internal battle between hiding his illegal magic gift and the temptation of using magic to heal his patients. Into his life comes a mysterious and handsome gentleman; detective work, light romance, and mortal (but not too mortal!) danger ensue.
The Gurkha and the Lord of Tuesday, by Saad Z. Hossain
Deceptive little novella, I loved it. Starts out with a djinn waking from an unnaturally long slumber and meeting a human sitting by the road eating pistachios. (The pistachios are a running gag with this guy, kind of like Han from the Fast and Furious franchise and his bag of chips.) Turns out the djinn has woken into a far future world where everyone in Kathmandu is implanted with pollution-fighting nanites, no one starves, and good behavior is rewarded on a point system by a citywide AI named Karma. Hilarity and biting social commentary ensue as the djinn attempts to conquer the futuristic city, a local bureaucrat tries to maintain order, and everyone belatedly finds out that the pistachio eater has an agenda of his own.
Bee Sting Cake, by Victoria Goddard
Book 2 of Greenwing and Dart; this one delves into Jemis Greenwing’s clouded past and his trauma around it. This is a triumph of unreliable narration; Jemis is so closed off from his emotions that all we have to go by are his detached observations of how his friends are reacting to him. It’s so well done that you’re more concerned about Jemis than about everything else going on around him, which includes dragons, riddles, a haunted wood, an entire cursed village, inheritance shenanigans, and a high stakes county fair. Absolutely loved this one.
The Empire of Gold, by S.A. Chakraborty
Non-stop tension, action, and angst for this conclusion to the Daevabad trilogy. Great character growth with all the main protagonists; Chakraborty did an amazing job painting complementary pictures of their views of themselves versus how others saw them. The environments were crafted beautifully, both in mundane Cairo and in the magical world, and although the carnage was intense, the characters’ outraged reactions meant that the book never quite hit grimdark in tone. The only annoying bit for me was the djinn Dara’s clinging to his old beliefs despite what was by now a GIANT mountain of evidence to the contrary, but even that I could see as a logical outcome of his character. Really nicely done overall.
The Haunting of Tram Car 015, by P. Djèlí Clark
Set in the steampunk Cairo of Clark’s Dead Djinn universe, in which hapless ministry officials try to regulate supernatural occurrences given shoestring budgets and an unsupportive bureaucracy, Senior Agent Hamed al-Nasr and his new partner Agent Onsi investigate a haunted tram car. I loved Hamed’s weary competence in tackling the case, set against Onsi’s exuberance; I also liked the suffragettes and other women in the story who insisted that Hamed make room for their competence and independence, and how it all managed to tie together at the end. Really tight, well-written novella.
Stargazy Pie, by Victoria Goddard
Fifth book by Victoria Goddard this month, no regrets. This is book 1 of Greenwing and Dart, and I am so excited that this pair of dashing young gentlemen get more mysteries to solve. Jemis Greenwing, having slunk back from college with a broken heart, broken dreams, and severe hay fever, just wants to fade quietly into his job; his old friend Dart decides to cheer him up and they inadvertently stumble upon a secret society calling on the old gods with dark magic. I loved the mixture of gossipy small town atmosphere with cults, criminal gangs, and a general shared trauma over recent magical cataclysm, all overlaid with a Regency-level preoccupation with etiquette and social standing. Super charming read.