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endemictoearth's review against another edition
3.75
Cute historical set on a small island. The m/m romance thread is very thin, it's mostly an 'uncovering the mysteries of the past' story, but is quite sweet.
haruspicje's review against another edition
lighthearted
relaxing
slow-paced
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
2.25
jpjackson's review against another edition
5.0
I think it would be safe to assume that for most readers, we want to be swept away by a story. We want to be fully immersed in the setting, live in the characters heads and completely escape from our own present reality.
Well then, have I got a book for you. Let me introduce you to Glenn Quigley and his debut novel The Moth and Moon.
I don't think I managed to get to the end of the first page before I found myself already swallowed up by the storytelling. Quigley masterfully snatches the reader and plunks them down into a 1700's fishing village where the world might be devoid of all the technology we have today, but is lush and full of details. I swear I could smell the ocean as I read this - and I live in a land-locked Canadian province. There isn't a huge body of water anywhere near me. And yet, I was walking along the shores of Blashy Cove, passing through the various stores and merchants, and having a strong apple cider in the local village hub - The Moth and Moon.
The entire story revolves around Robin Shipp, a big bear of a man, clumsy, yet endearing, whose family's history colours how the townsfolk interact with him. And yet, despite their repugnant treatment of the man, he continually shows grace and kindness. Note to self - a good lesson for all of us to learn.
Of note - in Blashy Cove, the residents are perfectly able to take up and marry or be involved with any individual they'd prefer, and in fact, the matriarchs of the town often conspire to match-make couples of any gender configuration. What a delight - perhaps we'll get there in our own timeline sometime soon.
The author does a stupendous job of creating stress and tension as the impending storm seeks to bring about destruction - and having lived through two hurricanes myself (when I attended University on the East Coast of the US), I can assure you that Quigley adequately captured the intense feelings that come with the weight of doom that Mother Nature is quite apt in dolling out. The attention to detail is staggering, and yet, it never detracts from the story.
As the storm arrives, the interconnectedness of the citizens of Blashy Cove come to a front, as histories and prejudices are aired and confronted. The characters are real, their situations and reactions are believable, and I found myself rooting for Mr. Shipp on every page, despite the horrendous treatment he receives, and the lies that he discovers.
The book is utterly heart-warming. The connections between the townspeople need to be mentioned as well. In a small town, everyone knows or knows of, everyone else. Stories are shared and told, truths are stretched and sometimes broken altogether. The dynamics were perfect, the scandals are relatable as similar situations continue to occur even today. In other words, despite the time frame, this story has something that everyone can nod and say, "Yup, I know someone that happened to."
That right there is what I call "relatableness" (Yes, I know, that's not really a word, but I'm making it one) and that quality is, as far as I'm concerned, what makes a book stand out from all the others.
This is a definite must-read, and I am eagerly awaiting anything else that Mr. Quigley puts to paper.
Well then, have I got a book for you. Let me introduce you to Glenn Quigley and his debut novel The Moth and Moon.
I don't think I managed to get to the end of the first page before I found myself already swallowed up by the storytelling. Quigley masterfully snatches the reader and plunks them down into a 1700's fishing village where the world might be devoid of all the technology we have today, but is lush and full of details. I swear I could smell the ocean as I read this - and I live in a land-locked Canadian province. There isn't a huge body of water anywhere near me. And yet, I was walking along the shores of Blashy Cove, passing through the various stores and merchants, and having a strong apple cider in the local village hub - The Moth and Moon.
The entire story revolves around Robin Shipp, a big bear of a man, clumsy, yet endearing, whose family's history colours how the townsfolk interact with him. And yet, despite their repugnant treatment of the man, he continually shows grace and kindness. Note to self - a good lesson for all of us to learn.
Of note - in Blashy Cove, the residents are perfectly able to take up and marry or be involved with any individual they'd prefer, and in fact, the matriarchs of the town often conspire to match-make couples of any gender configuration. What a delight - perhaps we'll get there in our own timeline sometime soon.
The author does a stupendous job of creating stress and tension as the impending storm seeks to bring about destruction - and having lived through two hurricanes myself (when I attended University on the East Coast of the US), I can assure you that Quigley adequately captured the intense feelings that come with the weight of doom that Mother Nature is quite apt in dolling out. The attention to detail is staggering, and yet, it never detracts from the story.
As the storm arrives, the interconnectedness of the citizens of Blashy Cove come to a front, as histories and prejudices are aired and confronted. The characters are real, their situations and reactions are believable, and I found myself rooting for Mr. Shipp on every page, despite the horrendous treatment he receives, and the lies that he discovers.
The book is utterly heart-warming. The connections between the townspeople need to be mentioned as well. In a small town, everyone knows or knows of, everyone else. Stories are shared and told, truths are stretched and sometimes broken altogether. The dynamics were perfect, the scandals are relatable as similar situations continue to occur even today. In other words, despite the time frame, this story has something that everyone can nod and say, "Yup, I know someone that happened to."
That right there is what I call "relatableness" (Yes, I know, that's not really a word, but I'm making it one) and that quality is, as far as I'm concerned, what makes a book stand out from all the others.
This is a definite must-read, and I am eagerly awaiting anything else that Mr. Quigley puts to paper.
folieassdeux's review against another edition
4.0
Let me start by saying I really, really enjoyed this book. The events of this novel are set in 1780, and I haven't read fiction set before the 19th century in such a long time so it was a really refreshing read.
The Moth and Moon follows the events in the life of a man called Robin Shipp over the course of a day-long hurricane, as it sweeps across the tiny island of Merryapple off the coast of Cornwall, and the effects of the hurricane on the village in the weeks after. The main premise of the book is that homophobia doesn't exist, consigned to the history of the 'previous millennium' where homophobic laws were imposed but lasted only a short time as society saw it as reducing them to 'mere livestock'. As much as I think books tackling the very real effects and structures of homophobia are important, it was so refreshing and lovely to read a book which visualises a world in which sexuality simply doesn't matter.
The essence of the book is Quigley's mastery over description, vividly detailing the landscape so that the reader can perfectly visualise the village and locate the hill, the bay, the lighthouse, and the central location of the novel, The Moth and Moon tavern. It's honestly worth reading the book for the locations alone, with the fairy tale set up of the gentle sea and 'pale blue-and-white striped-lighthouse that sat out at sea on its desolate little clump of rocks and scrub'. The star of the show though is definitely the tavern which seems like it must have been built by magic. It expands from the solid remains of the ship, being built upon with layer upon layer into a labyrinthine structure with staircases leading everywhere, causing the guests to get thoroughly lost, whilst the old ship's wheel-cum-candelabra steadily drips layers of wax on the floor below. I also appreciated the idea that even though the historic ship was a wreckage after running aground, in this form as a tavern it safely weathered the storm and protected an entire community of people.
I also loved how well-rendered the relationships were in the novel, with no shying away from the soreness of past love and how relationships can simply become lacking, but cause deep rifts and tensions and affect whole communities of people as a result. This isn't a place for earth-shattering romantic drama among the main characters (although there is some of that in the novel if that's your cup of tea) and I appreciate how sensitively the complexities of relationship and friendships and communities were approached and explored.
Another layer of the novel that I loved was the thread of Paganism, of 'the spirits of air and land and sea. Woden and Frig, The Wild Hunt and the Bucca, piskies and mermaids, the Green Man and the wights'. The fact that superstition reigns in the burying of the dead, with the idea that the tree could sustain life after death. These superstitions are only referenced and I would have liked to know more about how these beliefs influence the life of the village. The relationship of the village to religion is interesting though, as it's stated fairly early on that the only thing the village does not have is a church, which seems to hint at a rejection of religious institution at the same time as rejecting homophobia, which is intrinsically linked together throughout history. The idea of marriage in the book is really interesting as well, as both 'marriage' and 'hand fasting' are referred to, the latter of which is a Pagan tradition and like a kind of pre-marriage trial, or engagement. I wish this custom was explored a bit more but I really loved how it subverted the marriage institution in the book, and I love the Pagan influence in the town.
My only major problem with the book, and the reason I can't give it a complete five stars, is the depiction of women. In comparison to the men, such as Robin, Duncan, Edwin, and even Robin's father Erasmus, very few of the women get a fleshed out backstory, and even fewer are well-rounded characters like the men. I would argue Morwenna is the only complex female character in the novel, with an interesting backstory that is explored through the book, and different facets to her personality and reasons for her actions. Eva would be the next, but even then her characterisation felt contrived at some points in the book, as she would switch between a seductress-type (which was out of place and didn't make sense) to an aloof-ice-queen type within ten seconds in some scenes. Her wife, Iris, along with every other female character was relegated to types too, usually those of submissive roles (note that all the heroes of the book are men, usually the same six). If Iris had simply taken over the forgery (regardless of her 'dainty wrists and slim arms') then that would have cleanly subverted that problem. Also, every prominent female character in the book propped up one or more of the men at some point without their actions benefiting them much. Sylvia was fairly one-dimensional, the typical 'strong female character' that is actually just an abusive, spiteful, evil woman with no complexity or redeeming features, and that made her feud with Morwenna ultimately uninteresting. I like my villains with more depth to them. Of course, this is the year 1780 which would explain these characterisations to a degree, but part of me thinks that if a world in which homophobia doesn't exist can be imagined, then why rigidly defend gender roles?
Ultimately though the book was so well-written, and women like Morwenna definitely stood out which was great. Structurally, I was impressed with the book. The major plot twists were always weaved into further conversations and scenes in the novel which helped to process them when it felt like you were suspending your disbelief a bit too far. I especially loved the use of mirroring in the novel as a device to compare and tie together different relationships and conversations, a major theme being unprepared for difficult conversations, but that putting things off solves nothing and being forced into these conversations by uncontrollable events is often the only way to achieve resolution.
Some little gems from the book:
I loved this entire passage.
Honestly Edwin's pettiness(/pride) is great and I wanted more of it.
Some other little notes: I absolutely adored Duncan's glasses, and actually I really liked Duncan too.
Thanks to NineStar Press and Netgalley for a free advance copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.
The Moth and Moon follows the events in the life of a man called Robin Shipp over the course of a day-long hurricane, as it sweeps across the tiny island of Merryapple off the coast of Cornwall, and the effects of the hurricane on the village in the weeks after. The main premise of the book is that homophobia doesn't exist, consigned to the history of the 'previous millennium' where homophobic laws were imposed but lasted only a short time as society saw it as reducing them to 'mere livestock'. As much as I think books tackling the very real effects and structures of homophobia are important, it was so refreshing and lovely to read a book which visualises a world in which sexuality simply doesn't matter.
The essence of the book is Quigley's mastery over description, vividly detailing the landscape so that the reader can perfectly visualise the village and locate the hill, the bay, the lighthouse, and the central location of the novel, The Moth and Moon tavern. It's honestly worth reading the book for the locations alone, with the fairy tale set up of the gentle sea and 'pale blue-and-white striped-lighthouse that sat out at sea on its desolate little clump of rocks and scrub'. The star of the show though is definitely the tavern which seems like it must have been built by magic. It expands from the solid remains of the ship, being built upon with layer upon layer into a labyrinthine structure with staircases leading everywhere, causing the guests to get thoroughly lost, whilst the old ship's wheel-cum-candelabra steadily drips layers of wax on the floor below. I also appreciated the idea that even though the historic ship was a wreckage after running aground, in this form as a tavern it safely weathered the storm and protected an entire community of people.
I also loved how well-rendered the relationships were in the novel, with no shying away from the soreness of past love and how relationships can simply become lacking, but cause deep rifts and tensions and affect whole communities of people as a result. This isn't a place for earth-shattering romantic drama among the main characters (although there is some of that in the novel if that's your cup of tea) and I appreciate how sensitively the complexities of relationship and friendships and communities were approached and explored.
Another layer of the novel that I loved was the thread of Paganism, of 'the spirits of air and land and sea. Woden and Frig, The Wild Hunt and the Bucca, piskies and mermaids, the Green Man and the wights'. The fact that superstition reigns in the burying of the dead, with the idea that the tree could sustain life after death. These superstitions are only referenced and I would have liked to know more about how these beliefs influence the life of the village. The relationship of the village to religion is interesting though, as it's stated fairly early on that the only thing the village does not have is a church, which seems to hint at a rejection of religious institution at the same time as rejecting homophobia, which is intrinsically linked together throughout history. The idea of marriage in the book is really interesting as well, as both 'marriage' and 'hand fasting' are referred to, the latter of which is a Pagan tradition and like a kind of pre-marriage trial, or engagement. I wish this custom was explored a bit more but I really loved how it subverted the marriage institution in the book, and I love the Pagan influence in the town.
My only major problem with the book, and the reason I can't give it a complete five stars, is the depiction of women. In comparison to the men, such as Robin, Duncan, Edwin, and even Robin's father Erasmus, very few of the women get a fleshed out backstory, and even fewer are well-rounded characters like the men. I would argue Morwenna is the only complex female character in the novel, with an interesting backstory that is explored through the book, and different facets to her personality and reasons for her actions. Eva would be the next, but even then her characterisation felt contrived at some points in the book, as she would switch between a seductress-type (which was out of place and didn't make sense) to an aloof-ice-queen type within ten seconds in some scenes. Her wife, Iris, along with every other female character was relegated to types too, usually those of submissive roles (note that all the heroes of the book are men, usually the same six). If Iris had simply taken over the forgery (regardless of her 'dainty wrists and slim arms') then that would have cleanly subverted that problem. Also, every prominent female character in the book propped up one or more of the men at some point without their actions benefiting them much. Sylvia was fairly one-dimensional, the typical 'strong female character' that is actually just an abusive, spiteful, evil woman with no complexity or redeeming features, and that made her feud with Morwenna ultimately uninteresting. I like my villains with more depth to them. Of course, this is the year 1780 which would explain these characterisations to a degree, but part of me thinks that if a world in which homophobia doesn't exist can be imagined, then why rigidly defend gender roles?
Ultimately though the book was so well-written, and women like Morwenna definitely stood out which was great. Structurally, I was impressed with the book. The major plot twists were always weaved into further conversations and scenes in the novel which helped to process them when it felt like you were suspending your disbelief a bit too far. I especially loved the use of mirroring in the novel as a device to compare and tie together different relationships and conversations, a major theme being unprepared for difficult conversations, but that putting things off solves nothing and being forced into these conversations by uncontrollable events is often the only way to achieve resolution.
Some little gems from the book:
'Once they were gone, the people picked through the remains, seeing the value in certain aspects and thoroughly disregarding the rest, scouring the regime clean from the face of the world and consigning it meekly to the tomes of scholars and students'.
I loved this entire passage.
'Edwin fought the urge to tell him his fruit cake was already quite moist enough and didn't require butter'.
Honestly Edwin's pettiness(/pride) is great and I wanted more of it.
'"Those two, I mean, imagine! Getting married. To someone from Blackrabbit Island! There should be a law against it!"'
Some other little notes: I absolutely adored Duncan's glasses, and actually I really liked Duncan too.
Thanks to NineStar Press and Netgalley for a free advance copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.
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