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A review by hbbrouse
A Dark and Drowning Tide by Allison Saft
adventurous
dark
tense
fast-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? It's complicated
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
2.25
I wish I had expected less from this book, that I might be less disappointed. This book touched so many genres (dark academia, enemies to lovers, backpack fantasy, murder mystery) and struggled to deliver on any of them. I felt there were too many empty promises made by the plot; some questions answered so disappointingly I struggled to move past them.
I loved the purple prose (surely the author and I enjoy similar fanfiction). I enjoyed the world building and exploration. I adored the creatures tremendously. Truly, again, the creatures were wonderful. I enjoyed the use of folklore storytelling as narrative framing and theme!
I am not Jewish, and felt curious about the Yeva as allegory and exploration. I have enjoyed listening to other people describe their relationship to this representation. I have also enjoyed others discussing their relationship to such a flawed main character expressing such panicky anger.
I have rarely disliked a main character as much as I disliked being in Lorelei's head. (I will say, this may be in part to having read this in audiobook format. I would suggest reading this to yourself rather than hearing someone, in dedicatedly bitter tones, read aloud Lorelei's thoughts for 11 hours.) She was unfailingly dense when otherwise described to be sharp. Her reasoning and drive were startlingly absent. In absence of any reasoning, her hatred not only felt cruelly empty but misogynistic in the ways she expressed hatred for the women (weak, feminine, clueless, annoying, too smart, too stupid, silly, pawns) vs the men (bad morals, bad choices). These last two points are emphasized by their relationship to Sylvia: Lorelei's "rivalry" with Sylvia is so poorly explained (a final chapter declaration of reason does not count as narrative force), her hatred so poorly founded, that it not only killed any of my belief in the enemies to lovers narrative but highlighted how much of Lorelei's described hatred hinges on her descriptions of Sylvia's femininity. Which only feels worse when Lorelei is positioned, in contrast, as butch(er). Without any indication in the text of what this gender dynamic might otherwise represent (ties to racialization or socioeconomic position), it lands instead on old harmful narratives of misogyny and gender rigidity. As almost insult to injury, when Lorelei does finally contend with Sylvia as a person and express attraction, unfailingly her expression of sexual desire is followed by fantasies of violence. The theme of this book is that we make monsters of Other by making them the monsters in our stories -- Sylvia refuses to believe the stories and therefore loves Lorelei like she loves any other creature, and Lorelei rewrites stories to be human. But in the moments of character climax and potential, Lorelei unfailingly chooses monstrosity (I want to hurt her, I want to be the monster) and Sylvia unfailingly confirms this (youre out of a nightmare). This isn't a story that builds room for exploration of violence in sex or desire. Without any narrative support, this desire for violence just undoes what little narrative work has been done.
But my last issue with this book, and what I found difficult to move past in order to finish it, is that this entire adventure takes place in the bubble of being complict in violent conquest. I agreed with our revealed villain. I could forgive more the sins of what this plot does to its context if it did not take upon itself so consistently the goal of grappling with its context. If you are going to write about how victors write history and oppression breeds violence, don't ask me to cheer for our protagonist choosing violence and victors. Don't ask me to believe in the power of gay love changing the conquest kingdom from inside the palace.
I loved the purple prose (surely the author and I enjoy similar fanfiction). I enjoyed the world building and exploration. I adored the creatures tremendously. Truly, again, the creatures were wonderful. I enjoyed the use of folklore storytelling as narrative framing and theme!
I am not Jewish, and felt curious about the Yeva as allegory and exploration. I have enjoyed listening to other people describe their relationship to this representation. I have also enjoyed others discussing their relationship to such a flawed main character expressing such panicky anger.
I have rarely disliked a main character as much as I disliked being in Lorelei's head. (I will say, this may be in part to having read this in audiobook format. I would suggest reading this to yourself rather than hearing someone, in dedicatedly bitter tones, read aloud Lorelei's thoughts for 11 hours.) She was unfailingly dense when otherwise described to be sharp. Her reasoning and drive were startlingly absent. In absence of any reasoning, her hatred not only felt cruelly empty but misogynistic in the ways she expressed hatred for the women (weak, feminine, clueless, annoying, too smart, too stupid, silly, pawns) vs the men (bad morals, bad choices). These last two points are emphasized by their relationship to Sylvia: Lorelei's "rivalry" with Sylvia is so poorly explained (a final chapter declaration of reason does not count as narrative force), her hatred so poorly founded, that it not only killed any of my belief in the enemies to lovers narrative but highlighted how much of Lorelei's described hatred hinges on her descriptions of Sylvia's femininity. Which only feels worse when Lorelei is positioned, in contrast, as butch(er). Without any indication in the text of what this gender dynamic might otherwise represent (ties to racialization or socioeconomic position), it lands instead on old harmful narratives of misogyny and gender rigidity. As almost insult to injury, when Lorelei does finally contend with Sylvia as a person and express attraction, unfailingly her expression of sexual desire is followed by fantasies of violence. The theme of this book is that we make monsters of Other by making them the monsters in our stories -- Sylvia refuses to believe the stories and therefore loves Lorelei like she loves any other creature, and Lorelei rewrites stories to be human. But in the moments of character climax and potential, Lorelei unfailingly chooses monstrosity (I want to hurt her, I want to be the monster) and Sylvia unfailingly confirms this (youre out of a nightmare). This isn't a story that builds room for exploration of violence in sex or desire. Without any narrative support, this desire for violence just undoes what little narrative work has been done.
But my last issue with this book, and what I found difficult to move past in order to finish it, is that this entire adventure takes place in the bubble of being complict in violent conquest. I agreed with our revealed villain. I could forgive more the sins of what this plot does to its context if it did not take upon itself so consistently the goal of grappling with its context. If you are going to write about how victors write history and oppression breeds violence, don't ask me to cheer for our protagonist choosing violence and victors. Don't ask me to believe in the power of gay love changing the conquest kingdom from inside the palace.
Content Warnings
Moderate: Toxic relationship, Antisemitism
Minor: Murder