A review by thereadingrambler
Saint Death's Daughter by C.S.E. Cooney

dark emotional fast-paced

• Plot- or character-driven? Character
• Strong character development? Yes
• Loveable characters? Yes
• Diverse cast of characters? Yes
• Flaws of characters a main focus? No

This is the story of Lanie Stones, the youngest Stones daughter and the first necromancer born into the Stones family in 100 years. Her mother is the official assassin for Liriat, and her father is the executioner. Her sister wants to follow in both parents’ footsteps as she just loves killing people. The book opens with the revelation that the Stones parents have both died through mysterious circumstances and were apparently deeply in debt, and the debtors, the Scratch family, have come to collect. Lanie is only 15, so she writes to her sister, Nita, to come and deal with this as she is older and an adult. From the time Nita steps foot back in their childhood home, everything starts to unravel—she comes accompanied by a man whom she wants to have children with to carry on the Stones line, but she…acquired this man through unsavory and dubious means. The mysterious circumstances of their parents’ deaths become even more mysterious and suspect. Lanie’s powers continue to grow. And that’s only the very first part of the book. There are so many twists and turns in this that I can’t even say anything more without giving an important detail away. 

This book was an absolutely wild ride that did not slow down at all. The book has this wonderful blend of humor and heartbreak while dealing with macabre and dark subject matter—after all, Lanie is a necromancer, and Nita is a gleeful serial killer. The writing style is delightfully wry, and Cooney clearly *loves* language and delights in finding the exact right word for something—and then almost immediately using that word in sparkling wordplay or a clever pun. The joke set up, timing, and landing always worked—at least for me. 

These elements work because Lanie is such a delightful and charismatic narrator. Lanie is the sunshine-y, compassionate, pink-clad foil to Harrowhark, our other favorite necromancer. She is clever and powerful while just as kind and loving. Remember that scene in The Fellowship of the Ring where Galadriel has the whole “In place of a dark lord, you could have a queen” but then she rejects the ring? Lanie could be that powerful and is tempted and even encouraged to grab that power many times, but her love for her family (even the more homicidal sides of it) and her friends keeps her grounded—and really her love for just everything. In a moment of crisis, one of Lanie’s friends describes her, saying, “Let us say…that this sorcerer’s unusual devotion stems…in part from a natural inclination towards…compassion. Yes, compassion for all things: living, dead, and in-between.” Lanie evinces a love for plants, for mouse skeletons, for her surrogate mother, for her niece, for inert bones. This true passion and willingness to sacrifice herself, to bend all of her considerable intelligence and power toward anything and anyone she loves, is what grounds this book.

The rest of the complement of characters is no less well-crafted, though. The other members of Lanie’s household are striking, even the ones who barely speak. Each one has a clear impact on Lanie and shapes her throughout the book. She always acts in the way she believes (even if she is wrong) will be the best for the other person—even at the cost to herself. One of the most heart-wrenching moments is when Lanie has to face that transition from childhood to adulthood where you realize the people who raised you are people too and have lives, desires, and wishes outside of caring for you.

Pacing is always my bugbear when it comes to books, and the pacing here is perfect. The book slows where it needs to build character relationships—and also draw out the tension. In the middle of the book we shift to this domestic interlude of a child going to school and adults going to work and developing adult friendships and our main quest almost seems to be abandoned as our characters take pleasure in a much smaller scope to life. But even as we delight in everything going so well for Lanie and her family—and we are introduced to some absolutely amazing secondary characters—we know that things cannot stay this good for very long. And this slowdown causes the much quicker crash to hurt all the more. The readers are jolted out of our complacency. It’s a beautifully executed tactic and dances on the reader’s emotions so exquisitely. 

This book was surprisingly religious. All of the magic in the world is a boon from one of the gods—your power is directly connected to your devotion to one or more gods. Thus, Lanie’s considerable necromantic ability is tied to her love of the titular Saint Death. One of the continual interpersonal conflicts and debates is about the number of gods, their role in humans’ lives, and how to properly appreciate them and the powers they give out. Even the political backdrop is central to this religious debate. Lanie’s country, Liriat only exists because of a religious separatist group. Multiple of Lanie’s companions are from Liriat’s ancestral country, and their views open Lanie’s eyes to her own magical abilities and powers. At the same time, though, this isn’t a debate about whose religion is “correct.” One of the characters, an older woman named Tan, who takes Lanie under her wing, comments to Lanie that because of her different religious beliefs, she can call on her god in a much different way than Tan can call on hers. There is not a dichotomy set up between Tan and Lanie based on their religious beliefs but a mutual respect that each can learn from the other and that their beliefs share quite a bit.

Relatedly, worldbuilding is fairly complex, elements of magic, history, politics, and even Lanie’s family and physical experience are entwined with and all of the worldbuilding. If you’re fairly new to fantasy worldbuilding, especially worldbuilding which relies more on the reader’s observational and deductive powers versus exposition, this might be a bit tricky to keep everything together as stuff is revealed kind of piecemeal. Now, this is the way I like my worldbuilding, but I know it is not everyone’s cup of tea. All that said, I loved this world. I got kind of Victorian-vibes from the world in terms of aesthetics; the city felt very much like a 19th-century city to me (although nothing about the morality or culture of this world reflects Victorian social mores). I felt very immersed in this world; there were so many fun little details and quirks that the streets of the city felt alive, and the Stones Manor felt delightfully gothic (as in the architecture style). Everything felt very tangible and sensory.

I’m not really sure what comp titles would be for this book honestly; I think it stands apart from a lot of other books out there right now because of its balance of character, plot, themes, and pacing. I would recommend this to people who enjoy darker subjects but not necessarily dark writing. To people who enjoy wordplay and eccentric writing styles but don’t want to be experimental. To people who enjoy being intimate with their narrator and deeply investing in their internal, interpersonal, and external struggles.