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raven_morgan's review
4.0
Baltus City is dominated by crime syndicates, each pushing constantly for a larger share of the city. Working for one of these syndicates is Squid, a young woman whose speciality is the stealing of cars. Squid is watched over by police officer Casey, who has given Squid a deal – go clean by her next birthday, or be put in jail. Squid takes one last job to clear her slate with her boss, and is looking forward to moving on to her new life, even as she has no real idea of how to live without crime. Desperate to make her numbers, she steals a car about to be pushed into the harbour. When she opens the trunk, she finds a man inside, bound and unable to remember who he is or why someone was trying to kill him. When he follows her, Squid nicknames him Grief, and the two of them begin a search for Grief’s true identity, a search which will ultimately tear Baltus City apart.
There is so much to love about this book. Squid and Grief are both amazing characters in their own right, and Baltus City feels like a living, breathing place (albeit one in which it is very dangerous to live – or to own a car, if Squid is around!). There’s an almost cinematic vividness to the settings and people in the book, to the point where I could easily see this story translating to the screen.
Squid herself is an amazing protagonist. She’s utterly capable, and despite living a life dependent upon crime, she is also a deeply sympathetic character. There’s a particular scene near the end of the book that made my heart hurt for her (if I mention chocolate hazelnuts, you’ll understand which one). My only issue with her is that for me, a lot of the time she reads as a character younger than her stated years. This may have been deliberate choice on the part of Mok, or simply an effect of some of the humour in the book. Either way, it wasn’t a massive detriment, apart from the fact that it made the relationship between Squid and Grief read feel slightly different than it she reads older (and don’t take that to mean in a bad way at all, it’s just different).
And where to even start with Grief? As much as I liked Squid, I loved Grief. Mok has pulled out all of the stops with this character. His childish innocence as an amnesiac reads as utterly believable, as does how he begins to change over the course of the book as he learns about the man he was before Squid rescued him from a stolen car. The two sides of him could not have been more opposite, and yet Mok makes it all work so well. He and Squid together are two sides of the one coin in some ways, and it’s little wonder that they work so well together in this book.
The background of Baltus City is extremely vivid, and it’s fun following Squid and Grief around it, from the poorest slums to the richest apartments. All of the minor characters were brilliant, and Mok writes most of them in such a way that it really seems as if you’re getting a glimpse of only a part of their greater stories. Against this vividness, the figures of the crime lords (and I’m using lord as a gender neutral term here) running the syndicates unfortunately sometimes feel sketched in. I feel like this is something that almost couldn’t have been avoided without making the book twice as long, however, and it isn’t something that detracted from my enjoyment of the book. After all, this story is about Squid and Grief, not about the crime lords.
It is worth noting that this book contains a variety of female characters in various positions of power (and lack of power), and that there is a very welcome lack of sexual violence in the story. There are other kinds of violence, but none of them are dwelt upon in too much detail.
This is Mok’s third novel, continuing a diverse career. Both of her previous novels have been great, but I feel that with Squid’s Grief she’s really hitting her stride and reaching a new level as a writer of complex, character-driven work. If you’ve never read her work before, and are a fan of cyberpunk flavoured settings with a good dash of humanity and humour, this is a great place to start.
There is so much to love about this book. Squid and Grief are both amazing characters in their own right, and Baltus City feels like a living, breathing place (albeit one in which it is very dangerous to live – or to own a car, if Squid is around!). There’s an almost cinematic vividness to the settings and people in the book, to the point where I could easily see this story translating to the screen.
Squid herself is an amazing protagonist. She’s utterly capable, and despite living a life dependent upon crime, she is also a deeply sympathetic character. There’s a particular scene near the end of the book that made my heart hurt for her (if I mention chocolate hazelnuts, you’ll understand which one). My only issue with her is that for me, a lot of the time she reads as a character younger than her stated years. This may have been deliberate choice on the part of Mok, or simply an effect of some of the humour in the book. Either way, it wasn’t a massive detriment, apart from the fact that it made the relationship between Squid and Grief read feel slightly different than it she reads older (and don’t take that to mean in a bad way at all, it’s just different).
And where to even start with Grief? As much as I liked Squid, I loved Grief. Mok has pulled out all of the stops with this character. His childish innocence as an amnesiac reads as utterly believable, as does how he begins to change over the course of the book as he learns about the man he was before Squid rescued him from a stolen car. The two sides of him could not have been more opposite, and yet Mok makes it all work so well. He and Squid together are two sides of the one coin in some ways, and it’s little wonder that they work so well together in this book.
The background of Baltus City is extremely vivid, and it’s fun following Squid and Grief around it, from the poorest slums to the richest apartments. All of the minor characters were brilliant, and Mok writes most of them in such a way that it really seems as if you’re getting a glimpse of only a part of their greater stories. Against this vividness, the figures of the crime lords (and I’m using lord as a gender neutral term here) running the syndicates unfortunately sometimes feel sketched in. I feel like this is something that almost couldn’t have been avoided without making the book twice as long, however, and it isn’t something that detracted from my enjoyment of the book. After all, this story is about Squid and Grief, not about the crime lords.
It is worth noting that this book contains a variety of female characters in various positions of power (and lack of power), and that there is a very welcome lack of sexual violence in the story. There are other kinds of violence, but none of them are dwelt upon in too much detail.
This is Mok’s third novel, continuing a diverse career. Both of her previous novels have been great, but I feel that with Squid’s Grief she’s really hitting her stride and reaching a new level as a writer of complex, character-driven work. If you’ve never read her work before, and are a fan of cyberpunk flavoured settings with a good dash of humanity and humour, this is a great place to start.
rattybluestocking's review
5.0
4 1/2 stars
I loved this book! I have never read a cyber punk novel before, but this was great. So enjoyable. The characters were awesome; well-written, engaging, messes that you hated and loved in turns. I love characters written as if they could be real, every day people, even in this kind of setting.
The story line was great. I loved the crime, sometimes gritty and despairing feel from Squid's point of view. I definitely recommend this book!
I loved this book! I have never read a cyber punk novel before, but this was great. So enjoyable. The characters were awesome; well-written, engaging, messes that you hated and loved in turns. I love characters written as if they could be real, every day people, even in this kind of setting.
The story line was great. I loved the crime, sometimes gritty and despairing feel from Squid's point of view. I definitely recommend this book!
frasersimons's review
4.0
“You don’t belong in a world that sees you as useless.”
While Squid’s Grief begins like many cyberpunk novels, it diverges fairly quickly and ends aligned with a more solarpunk ideological standpoint than a traditional cyberpunk one.
Squid is relatable and likable. Probably the only way she is synonymous with the traditional cyberpunk anti-heroes is that she’s poor. Her poverty is ingrained and felt in the narrative in a way that is often not in traditional CP, though. In fact, for most of the book, we see the car thief attempting to get out of the life, touching on the one-last-job trope, but actually spends substantial time on it; making it the main focus of the story. This cleverly reinforces the systemic oppression those in poverty within the fictitious Baltus City feel on a daily basis. It’s more relatable passages of ones concerning job searches and the parallel to service work. Demeaning. Dehumanizing, unsatisfying. Only making a living via tips in establishments that have a prized rule: “do not retaliate”. Which certainly telegraphs what your treatment is going to be like in such places.
“Baltus City was a nation unto itself, a city-state where extremes were crammed into uncomfortable proximity. The obscenely wealthy, the devastatingly poor, towering skyscrapers and sleepy suburbia, all pressed together beneath the massive orbital highways that laced the city like Celtic knots of steel and concrete. And within the borders of the teeming state, all were equally ruled by the enigmatic crime lords of Baltus City.”
To flog this normal life along, a hyper altruistic cop named Casey gives Squid until her 18th birthday to get out of the life. After that, her “free passes”, so to speak, are up, and she’s considered to be another person who enters the system. Casey is incorruptible and naïve. Some people just aren’t prosecuted in the city, she knows this. It’s an insurmountable fact. Those connected to an omnipresence named Pearce, simply walk. But while the system is not perfect, it’s also all they’ve got. Giving up would mean letting go of any sense of accountability for criminals. And she just can’t abide it at a fundamental level.
People mess up. They’re not infallible. But given enough time and care, people can change and do “the right thing”. And that is her hope for young Squid.
“History isn’t destiny if you learn from your mistakes.”
In the last few days Squid has before she’s absorbed completely into the criminal underworld, Grief comes into her life. A man with a mysterious past (even to himself!). He’s an amnesiac who is found in the trunk of a car with a head injury. He’s also the thing that unwittingly keeps pulling her back to the underworld, as his past continually seems to come back and haunt him. Squid being caught in the crossfire.
Now, to my knowledge, aside from perhaps Almost Human, the “buddy cop” genre hasn’t largely been introduced to cyberpunk literature. That is, until now.
Squid and Grief’s relationship dynamic is very much reminiscent of this. It’s often funny and easy, and a lot of the fiction is dedicated to building their characterization through small, quiet moments as they navigate a new, awkward, and strange life. It is very effective in having the reader invest in these characters.
“Memories were funny like that. Squid could remember her old life, but she remembered it like someone else’s dream. It played through her mind like a silent film, so distant she could almost believe it had never happened. But once in a while, a half-remembered emotion would hit her, so visceral it stole her breath away.”
The most compelling part for me was that the thing keeping the people like Squid down was the system itself, which by itself, is not abnormal for cyberpunk, but the way in which it is conveyed is entirely so. It’s essentially a slice of life for the entire middle half of the book.
There aren’t any jobs for Squid that don’t commodify the qualities she finds intrinsic in herself and refuses to trade, despite her pretty dire situation. Living without heat and power, relying on the kindness of people within the system, like Casey, to squeak by with some modicum of freedom. Both outside of jail, but also simply existing as she is, unchanged by the demands of working the way up in the underworld, or a more legitimate job; both strips away aspects of her identity. In a sense, it’s a coming of age story, of sorts. There is no safety to be found in any space she navigates.
“There were no quick fixes, no magic pills, no waking up and becoming someone else. But there was hope, and determination, and sometimes, a little faith from someone who could see the person you were trying to become.”
Paralleling this is Grief’s story. A loss of innocence tale unspooling and foreshadowing what the demands of the criminal underworld are as it becomes clear Grief belongs to it in ways Squid hasn’t. Where she dabbles for the thrill and to pay rent, Grief embodies the darker elements of it and wishes to expel them from him. But cannot do so without first acknowledging that they are a part of him, which he refuses to do. This darkness reveals Casey’s “free pass” is an almost immeasurable kindness toward Squid, who may otherwise be consumed by the underworld if she can’t figure out how to truly get out.
“Possessions, places, people—they came and went, grew old, fell apart, and changed. But experiences formed the fabric of your life, woven into memories that helped you understand who you were, and why you were. Memories were a gift you could hold on to when everything else had been taken away. They were a scrapbook of emotions, triumphs and setbacks, that line of ink that told your story, stopping at the point where you stood right now.”
The law serves a purpose in this fiction and there is morality assigned to it. There are tonal shifts very often, which for me undermined some of the systemic issues it explores. There is a sense of hope despite the cyberpunk underpinnings of the setting.
In a time when cyberpunk should be diverging from the original motifs and explorations, there is this fun and well written, strange book which does so in the most surprising ways. Ordinarily, I can’t stand jokes and fiction that is to self-aware. But while it is funny, it is also sad. Life is a joke when there’s no real verticality in social structures to be had by the majority of the people in it. Living without joy is just another thing taken away from you. And so, sometimes, it really can be thematically on point to laugh at it.
“All those things he’d done were still inside him. All that violence and inhumanity, soaking through him like cheap rum in a Christmas cake. It wasn’t enough to change. You had to make amends.”
While Squid’s Grief begins like many cyberpunk novels, it diverges fairly quickly and ends aligned with a more solarpunk ideological standpoint than a traditional cyberpunk one.
Squid is relatable and likable. Probably the only way she is synonymous with the traditional cyberpunk anti-heroes is that she’s poor. Her poverty is ingrained and felt in the narrative in a way that is often not in traditional CP, though. In fact, for most of the book, we see the car thief attempting to get out of the life, touching on the one-last-job trope, but actually spends substantial time on it; making it the main focus of the story. This cleverly reinforces the systemic oppression those in poverty within the fictitious Baltus City feel on a daily basis. It’s more relatable passages of ones concerning job searches and the parallel to service work. Demeaning. Dehumanizing, unsatisfying. Only making a living via tips in establishments that have a prized rule: “do not retaliate”. Which certainly telegraphs what your treatment is going to be like in such places.
“Baltus City was a nation unto itself, a city-state where extremes were crammed into uncomfortable proximity. The obscenely wealthy, the devastatingly poor, towering skyscrapers and sleepy suburbia, all pressed together beneath the massive orbital highways that laced the city like Celtic knots of steel and concrete. And within the borders of the teeming state, all were equally ruled by the enigmatic crime lords of Baltus City.”
To flog this normal life along, a hyper altruistic cop named Casey gives Squid until her 18th birthday to get out of the life. After that, her “free passes”, so to speak, are up, and she’s considered to be another person who enters the system. Casey is incorruptible and naïve. Some people just aren’t prosecuted in the city, she knows this. It’s an insurmountable fact. Those connected to an omnipresence named Pearce, simply walk. But while the system is not perfect, it’s also all they’ve got. Giving up would mean letting go of any sense of accountability for criminals. And she just can’t abide it at a fundamental level.
People mess up. They’re not infallible. But given enough time and care, people can change and do “the right thing”. And that is her hope for young Squid.
“History isn’t destiny if you learn from your mistakes.”
In the last few days Squid has before she’s absorbed completely into the criminal underworld, Grief comes into her life. A man with a mysterious past (even to himself!). He’s an amnesiac who is found in the trunk of a car with a head injury. He’s also the thing that unwittingly keeps pulling her back to the underworld, as his past continually seems to come back and haunt him. Squid being caught in the crossfire.
Now, to my knowledge, aside from perhaps Almost Human, the “buddy cop” genre hasn’t largely been introduced to cyberpunk literature. That is, until now.
Squid and Grief’s relationship dynamic is very much reminiscent of this. It’s often funny and easy, and a lot of the fiction is dedicated to building their characterization through small, quiet moments as they navigate a new, awkward, and strange life. It is very effective in having the reader invest in these characters.
“Memories were funny like that. Squid could remember her old life, but she remembered it like someone else’s dream. It played through her mind like a silent film, so distant she could almost believe it had never happened. But once in a while, a half-remembered emotion would hit her, so visceral it stole her breath away.”
The most compelling part for me was that the thing keeping the people like Squid down was the system itself, which by itself, is not abnormal for cyberpunk, but the way in which it is conveyed is entirely so. It’s essentially a slice of life for the entire middle half of the book.
There aren’t any jobs for Squid that don’t commodify the qualities she finds intrinsic in herself and refuses to trade, despite her pretty dire situation. Living without heat and power, relying on the kindness of people within the system, like Casey, to squeak by with some modicum of freedom. Both outside of jail, but also simply existing as she is, unchanged by the demands of working the way up in the underworld, or a more legitimate job; both strips away aspects of her identity. In a sense, it’s a coming of age story, of sorts. There is no safety to be found in any space she navigates.
“There were no quick fixes, no magic pills, no waking up and becoming someone else. But there was hope, and determination, and sometimes, a little faith from someone who could see the person you were trying to become.”
Paralleling this is Grief’s story. A loss of innocence tale unspooling and foreshadowing what the demands of the criminal underworld are as it becomes clear Grief belongs to it in ways Squid hasn’t. Where she dabbles for the thrill and to pay rent, Grief embodies the darker elements of it and wishes to expel them from him. But cannot do so without first acknowledging that they are a part of him, which he refuses to do. This darkness reveals Casey’s “free pass” is an almost immeasurable kindness toward Squid, who may otherwise be consumed by the underworld if she can’t figure out how to truly get out.
“Possessions, places, people—they came and went, grew old, fell apart, and changed. But experiences formed the fabric of your life, woven into memories that helped you understand who you were, and why you were. Memories were a gift you could hold on to when everything else had been taken away. They were a scrapbook of emotions, triumphs and setbacks, that line of ink that told your story, stopping at the point where you stood right now.”
The law serves a purpose in this fiction and there is morality assigned to it. There are tonal shifts very often, which for me undermined some of the systemic issues it explores. There is a sense of hope despite the cyberpunk underpinnings of the setting.
In a time when cyberpunk should be diverging from the original motifs and explorations, there is this fun and well written, strange book which does so in the most surprising ways. Ordinarily, I can’t stand jokes and fiction that is to self-aware. But while it is funny, it is also sad. Life is a joke when there’s no real verticality in social structures to be had by the majority of the people in it. Living without joy is just another thing taken away from you. And so, sometimes, it really can be thematically on point to laugh at it.
“All those things he’d done were still inside him. All that violence and inhumanity, soaking through him like cheap rum in a Christmas cake. It wasn’t enough to change. You had to make amends.”
thiefofcamorr's review
4.0
Squid's Grief is a roller-coaster of life events that would have most people saying 'to heck with that'. Poor Squid has had one bad day after another and just wants a break, a fresh start, a chance that everything will turn out okay for her just once. Though she tries to do the right thing, and has a list of rules while she breaks the law (only steal cars that belong to criminals, or are double-parked, or something), the poor thing just gets into worse and worse trouble.
In one particular car heist she unluckily discovers that someone's tried up in the boot. She frees him and tries to shoo him on his way, however he suffers from amnesia and follows her around like a slightly dumb puppy for the next few days. Although she doesn't exactly have much to share in her ramshackled life, she gives away her last few coins in order to feed him. Since he doesn't leave and can't remember anything, she nicknames him Grief and it sticks.
Throughout the book she tries to get her life back on track to less than stellar results, and instead focuses on figuring out Grief's story, as they joke he must be a rock god or prince or at least someone who has a hot tub and nice clothes somewhere. As the truth starts to come out, we're left reading with a bitten lip as we hope somehow, they pull through this somehow... and possibly even together.
What I loved about this book was the dialogue. The book is full of weird and excellent humour; Mok isn't afraid to just be weirdly random at times, and it works (for me, at least, known to my own peers as someone who says weird and zany shit a little too often). The book also has lovely yet concise descriptions, such as 'Infinity Mall was a shopping superhighway. It was bigger than Buckingham Palace and busier than Tokyo in peak hour.'
The characters are what drives this piece. You deeply care for Squid and Grief, even though you wouldn't exactly what Squid near you (smells bad, steals shit, super unlucky life etc), and as more comes out about Grief you certainly wouldn't want him close either.
However, the plot is driven by how you want Squid to get a lucky break, and that you hope everything gets sorted out for Grief somehow, too. Squid is a hugely sympathetic character, and Grief starts out by being so sweetly innocent and shows he cares for Squid in a way that she deserves, that you want them to come through this okay.
Once I started this book it was very easy to read in under a day. Highly recommended for futuristic cyberpunk of loveable characters and a quick plot.
In one particular car heist she unluckily discovers that someone's tried up in the boot. She frees him and tries to shoo him on his way, however he suffers from amnesia and follows her around like a slightly dumb puppy for the next few days. Although she doesn't exactly have much to share in her ramshackled life, she gives away her last few coins in order to feed him. Since he doesn't leave and can't remember anything, she nicknames him Grief and it sticks.
Throughout the book she tries to get her life back on track to less than stellar results, and instead focuses on figuring out Grief's story, as they joke he must be a rock god or prince or at least someone who has a hot tub and nice clothes somewhere. As the truth starts to come out, we're left reading with a bitten lip as we hope somehow, they pull through this somehow... and possibly even together.
What I loved about this book was the dialogue. The book is full of weird and excellent humour; Mok isn't afraid to just be weirdly random at times, and it works (for me, at least, known to my own peers as someone who says weird and zany shit a little too often). The book also has lovely yet concise descriptions, such as 'Infinity Mall was a shopping superhighway. It was bigger than Buckingham Palace and busier than Tokyo in peak hour.'
The characters are what drives this piece. You deeply care for Squid and Grief, even though you wouldn't exactly what Squid near you (smells bad, steals shit, super unlucky life etc), and as more comes out about Grief you certainly wouldn't want him close either.
However, the plot is driven by how you want Squid to get a lucky break, and that you hope everything gets sorted out for Grief somehow, too. Squid is a hugely sympathetic character, and Grief starts out by being so sweetly innocent and shows he cares for Squid in a way that she deserves, that you want them to come through this okay.
Once I started this book it was very easy to read in under a day. Highly recommended for futuristic cyberpunk of loveable characters and a quick plot.
rivqa's review
4.0
This book is for when you want your cyberpunk with a sense of humour. And with characters who aren't all grizzled, cynical veterans and OH MY GOODNESS Squid is just the best and I will love her forever. A delightful, pacy story of second chances and found family.
fernbell's review
5.0
Loved how this book pulled you right in and kept you there. I have to say I really liked Grief and the humor him and Squid shared. It was intense story with twist and turns. Squid’s plans and how she keeps to her rules is something that just tickled me. I actually had to turn off my computer as had to get up early in the morning and couldn’t stop reading. Finished the next morning as soon as I could. This would be a book that I will buy and recommend to family and friends. First time reading this author and won’t be the last time as really enjoyed the book. I was lucky to get this book as an ARC from Hidden Gems for an honest review.
kellyhager's review
5.0
Oh, you guys, this book. This amazing, perfect book. This book that I am going to make everyone I have ever met read.
Okay, yes, I love heist books and this is an amazing one. It's sort of Gone in 60 Seconds but set in a world not unlike The Godfather (crime syndicates run EVERYTHING) and there's also the sweetest love story, but it's also not at all sappy or eye-rolling.
I can't even talk about it like a rational human being. Just picture me brandishing it like the street preacher in Little Nicky. And then get this book, which is something like $6 on Kindle.
You'll thank me later.
Highly recommended.
Okay, yes, I love heist books and this is an amazing one. It's sort of Gone in 60 Seconds but set in a world not unlike The Godfather (crime syndicates run EVERYTHING) and there's also the sweetest love story, but it's also not at all sappy or eye-rolling.
I can't even talk about it like a rational human being. Just picture me brandishing it like the street preacher in Little Nicky. And then get this book, which is something like $6 on Kindle.
You'll thank me later.
Highly recommended.
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