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361 reviews
Foul Days by Genoveva Dimova
Foul Days is the first installment in a new fast-paced urban fantasy duology inspired by Bulgarian folklore, and marketed for fans of Naomi Novik.
I generally enjoyed this book, its premise, and world-building, but unfortunately wasn’t able to get over some glaring structural issues with the writing and the cop love interest.
Let’s break it down a bit.
The things I enjoyed:
The world-building. Slavic folklore is always a hit for me in fantasy stories and I loved the dark urban twist. The world feels lived in, and each magical element and each structural choice wonderfully impacts the characters’ experiences and perspectives. Besides the main monsters of the world, there are wonderful small sprinklings of folklore and superstition utilized throughout the story that really flesh out the world. (I love the superstitious folkloric history of immurement! And I love it in fantasy stories!)
The commentary. The two contrasting lands and societies is by far the element of the story that gets the most impactful mileage. It offers a stage for this story to discuss a lot of issues between class and privilege in our world, and to do so well. I loved the way we saw–manifested in a literal sense–the way that privileged folks unleash all the world’s horrors and struggles onto marginalized and underprivileged individuals and then shove it behind a wall so that they don’t have to confront the harm caused to those people. The way that marginalized and underprivileged people then have to completely adjust their lives and cultures to coexist with these horrors and demons, while the upper class and privileged then take those cultural touchstones and turn them into commodifications and aesthetics to don and discard as they please. In a day and age where we see a lot of rich kids cosplaying as poor, or likenesses and dialects of marginalized communities becoming fashion trends, this was incredibly poignant and was probably the highlight of the book.
The depictions of trauma. There’s a few elements of trauma depicted in this story. Some of it being a survivor’s guilt type of trauma, and another being from an abusive relationship. I thought these arcs were really well done and really loved the extra layer of weight and growth it added to the characters’ arcs.
The things I didn’t like:
The approach to this fast-paced structure. In a fast-paced story, it is crucial to keep your audience on their toes and to keep them invested in the stakes of the story, both large and small. But especially across the first half of this book, nothing is given time to land before its wielded for subversion or plot use. The story sets up a piece of information–and always through telling, never showing–and then within the next two chapters, the payoff of that planted seed is immediately carried out. It caused me as a reader to overly anticipate the subversion of any new element or information. I lost faith and engagement in the story because any newly introduced piece of information, character, object, or backstory element would be incredibly short-lived and immediately utilized for the following plot point, so I had nothing substantial to really hold on to. Especially with everything being told instead of shown, I had a hard time believing or putting weight to any element. This does get a lot better by the end, but this issue permeates the whole first half of the book.
The cop love interest. There is absolutely no reason for him to be a cop. He could just as easily be a spy or a private investigator hired out by the police, or something of the like. And this book… seems to be aware that cops are bad? The main character constantly says she didn’t trust him because he's a cop and that good cops are myths. But no matter how many times you have your main character say cops are bad, having a love interest be a “good guy” cop, whose police experience canonically taught him to see magical beings as real people instead of creatures, and who thinks of his police station as his home, and refuses to be a “corrupt cop” still gives this story a “Not All Cops Are Bad, Actually” stance. And I could not read about him read about him breaking through the “barricade” (yes, the actual word used) of pillows on their tropey-one-bed so that the characters wake in each other’s arms without associating it with the police–that I saw with my own eyes, just DAYS ago–breaking through a barricade made of literal human bodies to brutalize hundreds of students for peacefully protesting. This character being a cop is also incredibly antithetical to this book's messaging about the criminalization and forced poverty of the lower class. There’s some other spoiler-y stuff I won’t mention that makes me extra hate this guy, but I really didn’t understand this choice. There wouldn’t have had to be so much page space wasted railing against the police (to no avail) if he had just NOT BEEN A COP.
Overall, I was hooked enough by the premise, the characters, and world-building to read through the whole book, and I’m glad I did, but I was put off enough by the writing issues and the cop love interest that I’m certain I will not be continuing with this series.
CW: classism, abusive relationship (past), adult/minor relationship, trauma, grief, murder, blood, dead body, gun violence, sibling death (past), gambling, fire, medical content, death of loved one (past), emesis, alcohol, hospitalization, death of parents (past), car accident (past)
Thank you to the publisher for giving me an ARC of this book in exchange for an honest review!
I generally enjoyed this book, its premise, and world-building, but unfortunately wasn’t able to get over some glaring structural issues with the writing and the cop love interest.
Let’s break it down a bit.
The things I enjoyed:
The world-building. Slavic folklore is always a hit for me in fantasy stories and I loved the dark urban twist. The world feels lived in, and each magical element and each structural choice wonderfully impacts the characters’ experiences and perspectives. Besides the main monsters of the world, there are wonderful small sprinklings of folklore and superstition utilized throughout the story that really flesh out the world. (I love the superstitious folkloric history of immurement! And I love it in fantasy stories!)
The commentary. The two contrasting lands and societies is by far the element of the story that gets the most impactful mileage. It offers a stage for this story to discuss a lot of issues between class and privilege in our world, and to do so well. I loved the way we saw–manifested in a literal sense–the way that privileged folks unleash all the world’s horrors and struggles onto marginalized and underprivileged individuals and then shove it behind a wall so that they don’t have to confront the harm caused to those people. The way that marginalized and underprivileged people then have to completely adjust their lives and cultures to coexist with these horrors and demons, while the upper class and privileged then take those cultural touchstones and turn them into commodifications and aesthetics to don and discard as they please. In a day and age where we see a lot of rich kids cosplaying as poor, or likenesses and dialects of marginalized communities becoming fashion trends, this was incredibly poignant and was probably the highlight of the book.
The depictions of trauma. There’s a few elements of trauma depicted in this story. Some of it being a survivor’s guilt type of trauma, and another being from an abusive relationship. I thought these arcs were really well done and really loved the extra layer of weight and growth it added to the characters’ arcs.
The things I didn’t like:
The approach to this fast-paced structure. In a fast-paced story, it is crucial to keep your audience on their toes and to keep them invested in the stakes of the story, both large and small. But especially across the first half of this book, nothing is given time to land before its wielded for subversion or plot use. The story sets up a piece of information–and always through telling, never showing–and then within the next two chapters, the payoff of that planted seed is immediately carried out. It caused me as a reader to overly anticipate the subversion of any new element or information. I lost faith and engagement in the story because any newly introduced piece of information, character, object, or backstory element would be incredibly short-lived and immediately utilized for the following plot point, so I had nothing substantial to really hold on to. Especially with everything being told instead of shown, I had a hard time believing or putting weight to any element. This does get a lot better by the end, but this issue permeates the whole first half of the book.
The cop love interest. There is absolutely no reason for him to be a cop. He could just as easily be a spy or a private investigator hired out by the police, or something of the like. And this book… seems to be aware that cops are bad? The main character constantly says she didn’t trust him because he's a cop and that good cops are myths. But no matter how many times you have your main character say cops are bad, having a love interest be a “good guy” cop, whose police experience canonically taught him to see magical beings as real people instead of creatures, and who thinks of his police station as his home, and refuses to be a “corrupt cop” still gives this story a “Not All Cops Are Bad, Actually” stance. And I could not read about him read about him breaking through the “barricade” (yes, the actual word used) of pillows on their tropey-one-bed so that the characters wake in each other’s arms without associating it with the police–that I saw with my own eyes, just DAYS ago–breaking through a barricade made of literal human bodies to brutalize hundreds of students for peacefully protesting. This character being a cop is also incredibly antithetical to this book's messaging about the criminalization and forced poverty of the lower class. There’s some other spoiler-y stuff I won’t mention that makes me extra hate this guy, but I really didn’t understand this choice. There wouldn’t have had to be so much page space wasted railing against the police (to no avail) if he had just NOT BEEN A COP.
Overall, I was hooked enough by the premise, the characters, and world-building to read through the whole book, and I’m glad I did, but I was put off enough by the writing issues and the cop love interest that I’m certain I will not be continuing with this series.
CW: classism, abusive relationship (past), adult/minor relationship, trauma, grief, murder, blood, dead body, gun violence, sibling death (past), gambling, fire, medical content, death of loved one (past), emesis, alcohol, hospitalization, death of parents (past), car accident (past)
Thank you to the publisher for giving me an ARC of this book in exchange for an honest review!
The Tempest by William Shakespeare
I really love talking about this play but god do I really not love reading this play (where are the jokes, will?)
The Starless Sea by Erin Morgenstern
5.0
inevitably, this may be my new all time favorite book. only time will tell.
The Butcher of the Forest by Premee Mohamed
A quaint dark little woodsy fairytale about colonialism, power, and grief.
I loved how bizarre and prosey and confusing the writing was, it added a lovely dream-like logic to the journey through this world and this story and was properly disorienting while still easy to digest. The atmosphere was rich and haunting in all the right ways. The themes this book played with were really fascinating, and I appreciated the open-endedness of many of its strings.
I think the only critique I have is that it felt like I was waiting for the other shoe to drop for much of the story. There was a clear setup here about different relationships to land: the inhabitants of the ancient forest where people go to die or lose themselves, the folks of the village who have lived in cautious fear of the ancient forest, and the king's men who have come to conquer the lands and understand little of the forest. And maybe I missed something, but I felt like I was waiting for some reveal or some twist about power or land ownership that never really happened.
If anyone else read this and Gets It, please let me know if I missed something. But I did enjoy my little time with this story, and I'm intrigued to read more of Mohamed's work.
CW: colonization, blood & gore, grief, child death (past), dead bodies, death of parents (past), death of illness (past), death of loved one (past), war (past), alcohol, animal abuse (off page), emesis
I loved how bizarre and prosey and confusing the writing was, it added a lovely dream-like logic to the journey through this world and this story and was properly disorienting while still easy to digest. The atmosphere was rich and haunting in all the right ways. The themes this book played with were really fascinating, and I appreciated the open-endedness of many of its strings.
I think the only critique I have is that it felt like I was waiting for the other shoe to drop for much of the story. There was a clear setup here about different relationships to land: the inhabitants of the ancient forest where people go to die or lose themselves, the folks of the village who have lived in cautious fear of the ancient forest, and the king's men who have come to conquer the lands and understand little of the forest. And maybe I missed something, but I felt like I was waiting for some reveal or some twist about power or land ownership that never really happened.
If anyone else read this and Gets It, please let me know if I missed something. But I did enjoy my little time with this story, and I'm intrigued to read more of Mohamed's work.
CW: colonization, blood & gore, grief, child death (past), dead bodies, death of parents (past), death of illness (past), death of loved one (past), war (past), alcohol, animal abuse (off page), emesis
You Weren't Meant to Be Human by Andrew Joseph White
challenging
dark
tense
medium-paced
Andrew Joseph White has become quite the horror phenomenon since his debut, well-known for his poignant, thoughtful young adult stories full of gore, trans rage, and cutting commentary. And his foray into the adult literary world delivers no less than the expectations his previous work promises.
YOU WEREN’T MEANT TO BE HUMAN explores the politicalization of the body, emphasizing the way “othered” bodies are turned into battlegrounds or prisons or tools by governing bodies, individual and collective. It asks questions about control, self-determination, and freedom under systems of oppression. And it does so with exquisite, multi-layered, heart-wrenching storytelling.
I got to read an early version of this book as a sensitivity reader, and it was such an honor to catch a glimpse behind the curtain of White’s brilliance. Though this book is unbelievably nauseating and–as is standard in White’s work–unflinching (I had to get a lot of fresh air while reading this one, do not read it around a meal), it truly captures the heart of horror. It's hard to peel apart the many elements of this story for examination, as its tendrils all tangle together, themes and messages and plots and characters all bleeding into one narrative entity. I regularly experienced multiple feelings at once, often even contrasting ones, while trying to digest this squirming tale. But at the end, per usual for an AJW book, I was left agog, comforted, empowered, and grossed out in equal measure.
CW: pregnancy, childbirth, miscarriage, cannibalism, insects, suicidal ideation, self-mutilation, sexual content, sexual violence/dub-con sexual content, abusive relationship, murder, blood & gore, dead body, injury detail, emesis, dysphoria, transphobia (including internalized), drowning, slurs, deadnaming, infidelity, needles, death by cancer (past), war (past)
YOU WEREN’T MEANT TO BE HUMAN explores the politicalization of the body, emphasizing the way “othered” bodies are turned into battlegrounds or prisons or tools by governing bodies, individual and collective. It asks questions about control, self-determination, and freedom under systems of oppression. And it does so with exquisite, multi-layered, heart-wrenching storytelling.
I got to read an early version of this book as a sensitivity reader, and it was such an honor to catch a glimpse behind the curtain of White’s brilliance. Though this book is unbelievably nauseating and–as is standard in White’s work–unflinching (I had to get a lot of fresh air while reading this one, do not read it around a meal), it truly captures the heart of horror. It's hard to peel apart the many elements of this story for examination, as its tendrils all tangle together, themes and messages and plots and characters all bleeding into one narrative entity. I regularly experienced multiple feelings at once, often even contrasting ones, while trying to digest this squirming tale. But at the end, per usual for an AJW book, I was left agog, comforted, empowered, and grossed out in equal measure.
CW: pregnancy, childbirth, miscarriage, cannibalism, insects, suicidal ideation, self-mutilation, sexual content, sexual violence/dub-con sexual content, abusive relationship, murder, blood & gore, dead body, injury detail, emesis, dysphoria, transphobia (including internalized), drowning, slurs, deadnaming, infidelity, needles, death by cancer (past), war (past)
Content Warnings
Graphic: Murder, Blood, Suicidal thoughts, Pregnancy, Violence, Sexual content, Miscarriage, Sexual violence, Toxic relationship, Cannibalism, Gore, and Self harm
Moderate: Deadnaming, Injury/Injury detail, Transphobia, Vomit, and Dysphoria
Minor: War, Infidelity, and Cancer
The Jasmine Throne by Tasha Suri
Embarrassed this took me three years to finally take this off my shelf and read it! I ate this up.
I did feel like time and space were a little vague, I was having a hard time figuring out how far apart things were from each other and how much time passed, but other than that this was so well done.
I adored the characters, each felt so strongly defined and were fascinating to follow. The world-building and the details of each religion and their impacts on the characters and the politics and the world was just unbelievably scrumptious. The romance was great, but honestly I barely even cared about it in comparison to how deep and rich the world-building was. I just needed to know everything about the rot, the deathless waters, the yaksa, the nameless one, the mothers, etc. Each piece of lore was like candy to me.
There's no question that I'll be continuing this series.
CW: fire, imprisonment, war, drugging, murder, illness, violence, blood & gore, immolation, suicidal ideation, addiction & withdrawal, hallucinations, misogyny, homophobia, character death, drowning, grief, emesis, alcohol, child death (past, recounted), animal death, pregnancy, childbirth (off-page) parental death (past), death of family members
I did feel like time and space were a little vague, I was having a hard time figuring out how far apart things were from each other and how much time passed, but other than that this was so well done.
I adored the characters, each felt so strongly defined and were fascinating to follow. The world-building and the details of each religion and their impacts on the characters and the politics and the world was just unbelievably scrumptious. The romance was great, but honestly I barely even cared about it in comparison to how deep and rich the world-building was. I just needed to know everything about the rot, the deathless waters, the yaksa, the nameless one, the mothers, etc. Each piece of lore was like candy to me.
There's no question that I'll be continuing this series.
CW: fire, imprisonment, war, drugging, murder, illness, violence, blood & gore, immolation, suicidal ideation, addiction & withdrawal, hallucinations, misogyny, homophobia, character death, drowning, grief, emesis, alcohol, child death (past, recounted), animal death, pregnancy, childbirth (off-page) parental death (past), death of family members
Smile and Be a Villain by Yves Donlon
“My tables—meet it is I set it down
That one may smile, and smile, and be a villain—
At least I am sure it may be so in Denmark.”
-Hamlet
SMILE AND BE A VILLAIN is a self-published historical fantasy that reimagines the story of Hamlet, starting with the young prince’s departure to Wittenberg prior to the plot of Shakespeare’s play. Featuring rich fantastical lore, a diverse cast, and informed by a historical landscape of violence, religion, and politics, SABAV serves as a stunning debut from Yves Donlon.
Especially for an indie title, the prose is fairly tight and has a beautiful flow. The imagery is vivid, the characterization is clear, and it has an original style and rhythm without taking away from legibility. The world building is really well-informed. The political climate of Hamlet isn’t often heavily emphasized in adaptations or retellings, especially when it comes to complex religious dynamics, the treatment of marginalized communities, and (surprisingly) the trauma of war. So for Donlon to bring these factors–and their impressions on the world and the characters–to the forefront is wonderfully refreshing and adds a fascinating lens to a story I thought I already knew so well.
But the thing I really want to gush about here is the representation. Bisexual Hamlet, aspec Ophelia, trans Rosencrantz, Black Guildenstern, and even queer Jewish Horatio! (I absolutely did cry about queer Jewish Horatio.) I really appreciated not only the presence of these identities, but the way they shape the characters’ choices and alliances. I especially appreciate the queer-platonic relationship between Hamlet and Ophelia. The way this story utilizes the constraints and expectations of their genders in this society as a complication on their dynamic (for better or for worse) is so clever.
One of my favorite elements of the original story of Hamlet is its ambiguous perspective, and I felt like this is well represented in the use of magic in this world. Throughout the story, we–as the audience–witness characters’ different opinions on and relationships to magic and are left unsure what to believe in a way that is really intriguing. I’m really curious whether this intentional ambiguity will continue in book two or solidify into a clearer message.
I do think that the second half of this book is better than the first half, but mostly because that second half’s structure is INCREDIBLE. Donlon’s crafting genius really shines in their ability to end this book and prepare us for the next. SMILE AND BE A VILLAIN starts with the beginnings of Hamlet’s threads, and slowly but surely, they are pulled and strung this way and that, seemingly at random, until all of a sudden they snap into place. Suddenly, the stage is set, the actors are in the wings, and the curtain is rising.
I can’t wait to see how all of these pieces fit together in the next installment. Based on the way they handled this first book, I have no doubt Donlon will provide a masterful narrative payoff of the themes and discussions they’ve set up for the sequel.
So if you’re wanting to read a Hamlet retelling centering a queer and diverse cast, political intrigue, a mysterious magic system, and lovely writing, I highly recommend SMILE AND BE A VILLAIN.
Thank you to the author for sending me a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.
CW: war, violence, illness, death by illness, blood & gore, alcohol, homophobia, misogyny, emesis infidelity, antisemitism (mention), death of mother (past), death of sibling (past), slavery (mention)
That one may smile, and smile, and be a villain—
At least I am sure it may be so in Denmark.”
-Hamlet
SMILE AND BE A VILLAIN is a self-published historical fantasy that reimagines the story of Hamlet, starting with the young prince’s departure to Wittenberg prior to the plot of Shakespeare’s play. Featuring rich fantastical lore, a diverse cast, and informed by a historical landscape of violence, religion, and politics, SABAV serves as a stunning debut from Yves Donlon.
Especially for an indie title, the prose is fairly tight and has a beautiful flow. The imagery is vivid, the characterization is clear, and it has an original style and rhythm without taking away from legibility. The world building is really well-informed. The political climate of Hamlet isn’t often heavily emphasized in adaptations or retellings, especially when it comes to complex religious dynamics, the treatment of marginalized communities, and (surprisingly) the trauma of war. So for Donlon to bring these factors–and their impressions on the world and the characters–to the forefront is wonderfully refreshing and adds a fascinating lens to a story I thought I already knew so well.
But the thing I really want to gush about here is the representation. Bisexual Hamlet, aspec Ophelia, trans Rosencrantz, Black Guildenstern, and even queer Jewish Horatio! (I absolutely did cry about queer Jewish Horatio.) I really appreciated not only the presence of these identities, but the way they shape the characters’ choices and alliances. I especially appreciate the queer-platonic relationship between Hamlet and Ophelia. The way this story utilizes the constraints and expectations of their genders in this society as a complication on their dynamic (for better or for worse) is so clever.
One of my favorite elements of the original story of Hamlet is its ambiguous perspective, and I felt like this is well represented in the use of magic in this world. Throughout the story, we–as the audience–witness characters’ different opinions on and relationships to magic and are left unsure what to believe in a way that is really intriguing. I’m really curious whether this intentional ambiguity will continue in book two or solidify into a clearer message.
I do think that the second half of this book is better than the first half, but mostly because that second half’s structure is INCREDIBLE. Donlon’s crafting genius really shines in their ability to end this book and prepare us for the next. SMILE AND BE A VILLAIN starts with the beginnings of Hamlet’s threads, and slowly but surely, they are pulled and strung this way and that, seemingly at random, until all of a sudden they snap into place. Suddenly, the stage is set, the actors are in the wings, and the curtain is rising.
I can’t wait to see how all of these pieces fit together in the next installment. Based on the way they handled this first book, I have no doubt Donlon will provide a masterful narrative payoff of the themes and discussions they’ve set up for the sequel.
So if you’re wanting to read a Hamlet retelling centering a queer and diverse cast, political intrigue, a mysterious magic system, and lovely writing, I highly recommend SMILE AND BE A VILLAIN.
Thank you to the author for sending me a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.
CW: war, violence, illness, death by illness, blood & gore, alcohol, homophobia, misogyny, emesis infidelity, antisemitism (mention), death of mother (past), death of sibling (past), slavery (mention)
Uncommon Charm by Emily Bergslien, Kat Weaver
UNCOMMON CHARM is a really unique story. A queer, Jewish, gothic, historical fantasy, this novella features a quiet, slice-of-life style narrative set amidst 1920's London.
I really enjoyed all the elements of this book: ghostly seances, Jewish magical philosophy, mlm/wlw solidarity, family politics, and even a positive portrayal of protective mothers.
Though the edges of this tale at times struggled against the confines of its structure, its elements and themes sometimes fighting for dominance in a way that muddied the chronicling of timelines and train of thought. As I'm finding quite often nowadays, I think the folly of this story is perhaps its need for a stronger editorial hand.
But it did indeed contain an uncommon charm.
(A quick aside to scream about this gorgeous cover by Marlowe Lune, my favorite cover illustrator! This alone made this book's purchase more than worth it.)
CW: incest, grooming (implied), antisemitism, alcohol, chronic pain, sexual assault (past, implied), hospitalization (past), murder (past), gun violence (past), illness (mention), blood (mention), injury detail (mention), war (past)
I really enjoyed all the elements of this book: ghostly seances, Jewish magical philosophy, mlm/wlw solidarity, family politics, and even a positive portrayal of protective mothers.
Though the edges of this tale at times struggled against the confines of its structure, its elements and themes sometimes fighting for dominance in a way that muddied the chronicling of timelines and train of thought. As I'm finding quite often nowadays, I think the folly of this story is perhaps its need for a stronger editorial hand.
But it did indeed contain an uncommon charm.
(A quick aside to scream about this gorgeous cover by Marlowe Lune, my favorite cover illustrator! This alone made this book's purchase more than worth it.)
CW: incest, grooming (implied), antisemitism, alcohol, chronic pain, sexual assault (past, implied), hospitalization (past), murder (past), gun violence (past), illness (mention), blood (mention), injury detail (mention), war (past)
The Emperor and the Endless Palace by Justinian Huang
THE EMPEROR AND THE ENDLESS PALACE is a story brimming with potential. Its marketing is bold, with comparisons to era-defining love stories such as SONG OF ACHILLES. This pitch has been ambitious, and set my expectations for this book high.
Across various lifetimes, THE EMPEROR AND THE ENDLESS PALACE tells the tale of reincarnated lovers stuck in an endless loop, their romance forever star-crossed as fate tangles them together time and again.
My favorite types of stories are the kind that transcend their singular telling, which is why I’m so drawn to reincarnation-based plots. I’m nothing if not a sucker for stories that say “love (not always romantic!!!) conquers all” or that celebrate the interconnectedness of culture and humanity. They always make me feel a part of something larger than myself and/or bring me some comforting sense of hope. And this book sets itself up to be one of these stories: one that discusses love, romance, and human relationships across distant lands and time.
Which is why it was so disappointing.
The story starts out promising, its scope wide but its strokes confident, painting a canvas full of folkloric imagery and setting up the bones of something stuffed with yearning, queerness, and transformation. While reading the first chapter, I vividly remember thinking: “oh. I’m going to love this.” But this command begins and ends with that first chapter, the rest of the book featuring mere glimpses into this level of storytelling.
The majority of this book’s journey is oddly timid and disjointed. Its folkloric and fantastical elements are scattered, isolated to mere moments without any profound impact on the world-building or the story as a whole. The prose feels the same, as the story sometimes halts to insert moments of lovely meaningful writing sandwiched between tentative plot points.
Despite the book’s claim to tell some grand story that transcends time and space, it struggles to hold an overarching narrative, functioning through individual moments. This book isn’t one story told across separate timelines or even three stories told simultaneously, but rather is three fractions of a story on rotation, with minimal narrative distance covered by any of the individual timelines. It reminds me of those children’s stereoscopes I played with growing up, clicking through reels of scenes only connected by their shared concept.
This book tells us that these characters are trapped in a cycle of reincarnation spanning thousands of years and hundreds of lifetimes, so the fact that this book only provides some inconsequential sliver of insight into three (THREE!) of them was baffling to me. I desperately wanted even the slightest peek into another lifetime to help understand the magnitude of this supposed epic, transcendent romance. The story would have been served so much better with interludes between chapters that share even vague glimpses into other lifetimes. Or it needs to express why these three lifetimes are significant turning points at the absolute least. It desperately needed some tangible portrayal of the weight of these thousands of years.
There isn’t even that much interconnectivity between the three portrayed timelines, and the connections that are present feel more like wink wink nudge nudges rather than any tangible links. It reads as though nothing really changes in this relationship over lifetimes, and I’m not sure if anything IS actually changing in this relationship over lifetimes! Which makes me ask, why reincarnation then?
Because you’re telling me that you have lived hundreds of lifetimes, thousands of years, and you… what? have sex and then reincarnate again? There is just literally nothing greater going on between them. Not a singular piece of ground, over thousands of years, has been covered in progressing… what, exactly?
Which, let’s get into that, shall we? As we find out later on in the story, there’s supposedly some curse that’s tied to a specific object that one of the main characters is trying to track down in the modern timeline. And we don’t even really know what this curse is, who placed it or why, or how to break it. There’s just… a “curse”. It’s all very noncommittal. This explanation feels literally just dropped in there to justify their reincarnation, but actually has no real impression on the nonexistent plot.
As you can probably surmise from my description so far, the rules of the world are just vague. Not in any kind of an interesting way, but in a way that felt like the author was just hesitant to touch world-building or logic, which resulted in fragmented, confusing connections between elements and uncertain stakes. Because there was nothing here we could really root for! There was no real end goal!
Without any understanding behind this “curse” or the circumstances these characters are in, we have absolutely nowhere to go. There is no wrong to be righted, because the provided information about this supposed “wrong” is minimal at best, and there is no known way to “right” it. (There’s one that’s implied, but it's really confusing and the characters never actually take major strides to fulfilling it.) And it’s not even clear what the punishment or consequence for the “wrong” is, because it just seemed like it’s reincarnation, which doesn’t seem all that bad.
(Sidebar! It’s officially now time for me to bring in THE quote. The quote that this book is being marketed around. Because this quote makes absolutely no sense with this story, and it is a great example as to how this book confuses itself with its logic.
“What if I told you that the feeling we call love is actually the feeling of metaphysical recognition, when your soul remembers someone from a previous life?”
So let’s begin counting the things that make no sense with this quote! Problem 1: If these characters’ reincarnation loop is something they’re doomed into, why is the feeling of reincarnation being equated to love, which is something we’re supposed to view as a positive? Problem 2: If the characters are in love and therefore want to be together, why would we stop the reincarnation, which is supposedly what is giving them the feeling of love?)
Now let’s talk about this book’s only real obstacle: a third character who gets between our main characters.
I absolutely hate this third character. He essentially rapes one of the main characters over multiple timelines, and yet his relationship to the two main characters seems to be narratively framed as a love V, his role being to keep a character torn between loyalty and lust. So he never quite works as a villain because he’s also set up as a love interest, but never works as a love interest because he is a controlling rapist. I didn’t know what to make of him and his presence in the story really put me off. There's also like two or three chapters in which the characters spend nearly the whole scene scheming about killing this guy off and then there's never any actual attempt, ever? Fully just forgotten.
(Quickly back to the quote! Problem 3: If love is the feeling of metaphysical recognition, and this other character is reincarnating with the main two, shouldn’t the main two characters both be in love with this character? Wouldn’t they all three be amorously in love after living hundreds of lifetimes in orbit?)
In general, I’m not a fan of the erotica in this book. I really don’t mind explicit sexual content, and I had been warned ahead of time about the amount of sexual content in this book, but I found myself SO uncomfortable. I think this is primarily because there are good sex scenes, neutral sex scenes, and bad sex scenes, and then there are consensual sex scenes, dubious sex scenes, and nonconsensual sex scenes, with little to no correlation between those different factors. The story seems to have no invested interest in consent when it comes to sexual content. Until there is one attempted rape scene in one of the timelines, when it is clear the audience is meant to be thinking: “oh no, he’s going to rape him, that’s bad!” But this doesn’t hold any actual weight because so many of the other sexual scenes are nonconsensual or dubious and are treated as normal or even kind of sexy by the narrative.
The language of these scenes is also just… so cringey? I was confused by the combination of explicit description of sexual acts and the coy substitution of certain sexual words and body parts. I just could not take “influence” and “pink plum” seriously. If you’re going to be that explicit with the sexual actions of your characters, and you’re not trying create some profound metaphorical imagery, then stop using code words! It was cute the first time and then it got annoying!
Anyways, back to the reincarnation issues because AGAIN, the world-building in regards to the rules of this don’t make any sense. To recap: we’re initially told that only the two characters are doomed in a loop because of the “curse.” (And also because they’re in love? Unclear.) And then, of course, we find out that this third character is also reincarnating with them.
But actually, the story also suggests that there are more people reincarnating along with these other characters. At some points in the novel, a character in one timeline is clearly hinted at in another, but these connections are never expanded upon beyond that.
(Problem 4: How can their romance be epic because they keep reincarnating and therefore creating this growing feeling of true love, when potentially everyone around them is someone they know from previous lives?)
And you know what? I’m actually VERY down for an ensemble cast. I think this book would have flourished so much more if this was fleshed out. It would have created a clearer arc between the three POVs and maybe even would have helped craft a better and more constant rhetoric about love and community.
(If it weren’t for that dastardly curse that literally contradicts everything, what the fuck is that?)
But truly, the most frustrating thing about this book is that it doesn’t seem that these characters are actually… in love. I’m concerned that Huang doesn’t know the difference between romantic attraction, sexual attraction, and love. We’re told A LOT that these two men have some “special feeling” between them that transcends lifetimes, and that that feeling is “true love,” but the only thing we’re really shown between them is some really great sex.
In fact, the greatest examples of love I can point to in the book are shown by side characters in the modern timeline–characters, who don’t as far as I’m aware, have any parallels between timelines.
(Problem 5: If love is metaphysical recognition, does this only count for romantic and/or sexual love? Problem 6: If the answer to problem 5 even is yes, one of the side characters has romantic AND sexual AND platonic love for one of the main characters, but doesn’t seem to appear in other timelines, so is he not actually feeling love? Problem 7: Is no one able to feel love for someone they aren’t reincarnated with? Problem 8: If this side character is feeling unrequited love, does that mean he was reincarnated with the main character, but the main character was not reincarnated with him? How does that make sense? Problem 9: By the time it rolls around to the modern timeline, we never see these characters in love, just very sexually attracted to each other, while other characters show their love through genuine compassion and support and patience, but their love is not as valued by the main character, so is love just the feeling of finding someone really hot? Problem 10: If they’re trapped by this curse of reincarnation, and metaphysical recognition is love, how could they have fallen in love in their first life time? Check. mate.)
Now, it’s possible there is some sort of commentary here about the way we define love, and how we should be looking to the people who support us rather than staying caught up in the cycles of the past, but… I’m not sure that the book really supports this. It seems, above all, to value undying loyalty.
By the final chapters (without spoiling it, I promise), the book practically falls apart, all its final choices undermining every message this story initially sets out to portray without any shift of perspective. It constantly contradicts itself, leaving a muddied, frustrating, and inconclusive messaging. We lose the plot line of the curse entirely, there’s still barely any narrative distance covered across any of the three timelines, and the romance is just…??? It lacks closure, and I really love an open ending but there isn’t even a final beat or question for us to ponder on that carries us off and away from this book.
At the end of it all, I think this book just has no clue what it is trying to say. There is no guiding hand, leaving the audience to saunter aimlessly through this garden of ideas.
I don’t know where the blame for this issues lie, with the author or the editor or both or neither, but wow was this one a disappointment. When you have a narrative brimming with this much potential, you need to make sure you have a strong grip on it. A shaky hand only causes spillage, making a mess of the story and your reader.
Thank you to the publisher for sending me an ARC in exchange for an honest review!
CW: sexual content (including dubious and nonconsensual content), drug use, drugging, alcohol, animal death, homophobia, death, mind control, gun violence, blood, death of father (past), death by cancer (past), infidelity (mention), alcoholism (mention), suicide (mention), fatphobic comment
Across various lifetimes, THE EMPEROR AND THE ENDLESS PALACE tells the tale of reincarnated lovers stuck in an endless loop, their romance forever star-crossed as fate tangles them together time and again.
My favorite types of stories are the kind that transcend their singular telling, which is why I’m so drawn to reincarnation-based plots. I’m nothing if not a sucker for stories that say “love (not always romantic!!!) conquers all” or that celebrate the interconnectedness of culture and humanity. They always make me feel a part of something larger than myself and/or bring me some comforting sense of hope. And this book sets itself up to be one of these stories: one that discusses love, romance, and human relationships across distant lands and time.
Which is why it was so disappointing.
The story starts out promising, its scope wide but its strokes confident, painting a canvas full of folkloric imagery and setting up the bones of something stuffed with yearning, queerness, and transformation. While reading the first chapter, I vividly remember thinking: “oh. I’m going to love this.” But this command begins and ends with that first chapter, the rest of the book featuring mere glimpses into this level of storytelling.
The majority of this book’s journey is oddly timid and disjointed. Its folkloric and fantastical elements are scattered, isolated to mere moments without any profound impact on the world-building or the story as a whole. The prose feels the same, as the story sometimes halts to insert moments of lovely meaningful writing sandwiched between tentative plot points.
Despite the book’s claim to tell some grand story that transcends time and space, it struggles to hold an overarching narrative, functioning through individual moments. This book isn’t one story told across separate timelines or even three stories told simultaneously, but rather is three fractions of a story on rotation, with minimal narrative distance covered by any of the individual timelines. It reminds me of those children’s stereoscopes I played with growing up, clicking through reels of scenes only connected by their shared concept.
This book tells us that these characters are trapped in a cycle of reincarnation spanning thousands of years and hundreds of lifetimes, so the fact that this book only provides some inconsequential sliver of insight into three (THREE!) of them was baffling to me. I desperately wanted even the slightest peek into another lifetime to help understand the magnitude of this supposed epic, transcendent romance. The story would have been served so much better with interludes between chapters that share even vague glimpses into other lifetimes. Or it needs to express why these three lifetimes are significant turning points at the absolute least. It desperately needed some tangible portrayal of the weight of these thousands of years.
There isn’t even that much interconnectivity between the three portrayed timelines, and the connections that are present feel more like wink wink nudge nudges rather than any tangible links. It reads as though nothing really changes in this relationship over lifetimes, and I’m not sure if anything IS actually changing in this relationship over lifetimes! Which makes me ask, why reincarnation then?
Because you’re telling me that you have lived hundreds of lifetimes, thousands of years, and you… what? have sex and then reincarnate again? There is just literally nothing greater going on between them. Not a singular piece of ground, over thousands of years, has been covered in progressing… what, exactly?
Which, let’s get into that, shall we? As we find out later on in the story, there’s supposedly some curse that’s tied to a specific object that one of the main characters is trying to track down in the modern timeline. And we don’t even really know what this curse is, who placed it or why, or how to break it. There’s just… a “curse”. It’s all very noncommittal. This explanation feels literally just dropped in there to justify their reincarnation, but actually has no real impression on the nonexistent plot.
As you can probably surmise from my description so far, the rules of the world are just vague. Not in any kind of an interesting way, but in a way that felt like the author was just hesitant to touch world-building or logic, which resulted in fragmented, confusing connections between elements and uncertain stakes. Because there was nothing here we could really root for! There was no real end goal!
Without any understanding behind this “curse” or the circumstances these characters are in, we have absolutely nowhere to go. There is no wrong to be righted, because the provided information about this supposed “wrong” is minimal at best, and there is no known way to “right” it. (There’s one that’s implied, but it's really confusing and the characters never actually take major strides to fulfilling it.) And it’s not even clear what the punishment or consequence for the “wrong” is, because it just seemed like it’s reincarnation, which doesn’t seem all that bad.
(Sidebar! It’s officially now time for me to bring in THE quote. The quote that this book is being marketed around. Because this quote makes absolutely no sense with this story, and it is a great example as to how this book confuses itself with its logic.
“What if I told you that the feeling we call love is actually the feeling of metaphysical recognition, when your soul remembers someone from a previous life?”
So let’s begin counting the things that make no sense with this quote! Problem 1: If these characters’ reincarnation loop is something they’re doomed into, why is the feeling of reincarnation being equated to love, which is something we’re supposed to view as a positive? Problem 2: If the characters are in love and therefore want to be together, why would we stop the reincarnation, which is supposedly what is giving them the feeling of love?)
Now let’s talk about this book’s only real obstacle: a third character who gets between our main characters.
I absolutely hate this third character. He essentially rapes one of the main characters over multiple timelines, and yet his relationship to the two main characters seems to be narratively framed as a love V, his role being to keep a character torn between loyalty and lust. So he never quite works as a villain because he’s also set up as a love interest, but never works as a love interest because he is a controlling rapist. I didn’t know what to make of him and his presence in the story really put me off. There's also like two or three chapters in which the characters spend nearly the whole scene scheming about killing this guy off and then there's never any actual attempt, ever? Fully just forgotten.
(Quickly back to the quote! Problem 3: If love is the feeling of metaphysical recognition, and this other character is reincarnating with the main two, shouldn’t the main two characters both be in love with this character? Wouldn’t they all three be amorously in love after living hundreds of lifetimes in orbit?)
In general, I’m not a fan of the erotica in this book. I really don’t mind explicit sexual content, and I had been warned ahead of time about the amount of sexual content in this book, but I found myself SO uncomfortable. I think this is primarily because there are good sex scenes, neutral sex scenes, and bad sex scenes, and then there are consensual sex scenes, dubious sex scenes, and nonconsensual sex scenes, with little to no correlation between those different factors. The story seems to have no invested interest in consent when it comes to sexual content. Until there is one attempted rape scene in one of the timelines, when it is clear the audience is meant to be thinking: “oh no, he’s going to rape him, that’s bad!” But this doesn’t hold any actual weight because so many of the other sexual scenes are nonconsensual or dubious and are treated as normal or even kind of sexy by the narrative.
The language of these scenes is also just… so cringey? I was confused by the combination of explicit description of sexual acts and the coy substitution of certain sexual words and body parts. I just could not take “influence” and “pink plum” seriously. If you’re going to be that explicit with the sexual actions of your characters, and you’re not trying create some profound metaphorical imagery, then stop using code words! It was cute the first time and then it got annoying!
Anyways, back to the reincarnation issues because AGAIN, the world-building in regards to the rules of this don’t make any sense. To recap: we’re initially told that only the two characters are doomed in a loop because of the “curse.” (And also because they’re in love? Unclear.) And then, of course, we find out that this third character is also reincarnating with them.
But actually, the story also suggests that there are more people reincarnating along with these other characters. At some points in the novel, a character in one timeline is clearly hinted at in another, but these connections are never expanded upon beyond that.
(Problem 4: How can their romance be epic because they keep reincarnating and therefore creating this growing feeling of true love, when potentially everyone around them is someone they know from previous lives?)
And you know what? I’m actually VERY down for an ensemble cast. I think this book would have flourished so much more if this was fleshed out. It would have created a clearer arc between the three POVs and maybe even would have helped craft a better and more constant rhetoric about love and community.
(If it weren’t for that dastardly curse that literally contradicts everything, what the fuck is that?)
But truly, the most frustrating thing about this book is that it doesn’t seem that these characters are actually… in love. I’m concerned that Huang doesn’t know the difference between romantic attraction, sexual attraction, and love. We’re told A LOT that these two men have some “special feeling” between them that transcends lifetimes, and that that feeling is “true love,” but the only thing we’re really shown between them is some really great sex.
In fact, the greatest examples of love I can point to in the book are shown by side characters in the modern timeline–characters, who don’t as far as I’m aware, have any parallels between timelines.
(Problem 5: If love is metaphysical recognition, does this only count for romantic and/or sexual love? Problem 6: If the answer to problem 5 even is yes, one of the side characters has romantic AND sexual AND platonic love for one of the main characters, but doesn’t seem to appear in other timelines, so is he not actually feeling love? Problem 7: Is no one able to feel love for someone they aren’t reincarnated with? Problem 8: If this side character is feeling unrequited love, does that mean he was reincarnated with the main character, but the main character was not reincarnated with him? How does that make sense? Problem 9: By the time it rolls around to the modern timeline, we never see these characters in love, just very sexually attracted to each other, while other characters show their love through genuine compassion and support and patience, but their love is not as valued by the main character, so is love just the feeling of finding someone really hot? Problem 10: If they’re trapped by this curse of reincarnation, and metaphysical recognition is love, how could they have fallen in love in their first life time? Check. mate.)
Now, it’s possible there is some sort of commentary here about the way we define love, and how we should be looking to the people who support us rather than staying caught up in the cycles of the past, but… I’m not sure that the book really supports this. It seems, above all, to value undying loyalty.
By the final chapters (without spoiling it, I promise), the book practically falls apart, all its final choices undermining every message this story initially sets out to portray without any shift of perspective. It constantly contradicts itself, leaving a muddied, frustrating, and inconclusive messaging. We lose the plot line of the curse entirely, there’s still barely any narrative distance covered across any of the three timelines, and the romance is just…??? It lacks closure, and I really love an open ending but there isn’t even a final beat or question for us to ponder on that carries us off and away from this book.
At the end of it all, I think this book just has no clue what it is trying to say. There is no guiding hand, leaving the audience to saunter aimlessly through this garden of ideas.
I don’t know where the blame for this issues lie, with the author or the editor or both or neither, but wow was this one a disappointment. When you have a narrative brimming with this much potential, you need to make sure you have a strong grip on it. A shaky hand only causes spillage, making a mess of the story and your reader.
Thank you to the publisher for sending me an ARC in exchange for an honest review!
CW: sexual content (including dubious and nonconsensual content), drug use, drugging, alcohol, animal death, homophobia, death, mind control, gun violence, blood, death of father (past), death by cancer (past), infidelity (mention), alcoholism (mention), suicide (mention), fatphobic comment
The Death I Gave Him by Em X. Liu
And then we have one more POV in this book: Felicia. Felicia’s narrative format, rather than memory data, is featured through interviews and writing of her own, discussing the events in retrospect. This provides a really interesting relationship between her POV and that of Hayden’s and Horatio’s. Theirs are told in third person present tense, offering a sense of distance to the reader but an immediacy and intimacy to the circumstance, while Felicia’s is told in first person past tense, providing the audience with the feeling of being close to the narrator, but distance from the circumstance.
Felicia is a really brilliant Ophelia. Liu takes the bare bones of Shakespeare’s character and adds so much meat to them. This Ophelia holds so much agency, adds a really crucial perspective to this chaotic environment, and truly balances out this world and this cast. And on top of her characterization, her POV being through her own chosen words and through a more traditional format grounds the reader, adding a sense of relatability in this high-stakes futuristic environment.
Now, here is where I do have a bit of a gripe. While this book’s strengths lie in its choices, its weaknesses lie in the utilization of them. Liu meticulously carved themselves a literary tool belt of pure narrative gold, but sometimes used a chisel when a mallet would’ve covered more ground. It wasn’t that they used a less effective tool, as all their tools were highly effective and well-prepped, but that they just struggled to know which tool to use at what time in order to optimize their craft.
Because when I explain these different POVs, you would likely think that Horatio’s POV–as the sentient setting of the story and famously being titled The Storyteller of Hamlet, therefore being in the best position to be narrator both in terms of the retelling and in terms of the story at hand–would dominate the text, with Hayden and Felicia’s POVs to flesh the narrative out when necessary. Because one of the characters is literally a sentient security system who can read the mind and feelings of one of your other characters, so why would you not try to get as much mileage out of that as physically possible? Plus, since there are parts of the building Horatio couldn’t see into, it would make those moments outside of his POV feel all the more impactful. But that is tragically not the case.
In fact, this book doesn’t even have equal balance of the three narrators. I’d actually estimate that about 2/3 of the book is from Felicia’s POV, gaining frequency as the story goes on. Which is SO infuriating. Because though she is a great character, I unfortunately became sick of her, especially with her textual format being the least interesting conceptually of the three. Not that her POV is bad by any means, but it is set up to be–as I said–a great grounding element, something to bring us readers back down to earth. But her reflective tone, her distance from the core conflict, and her lack of a relationship to surveillance, inherently makes her less useful as a dominating narration. Being in her POV limits our access to the absolutely scrumptious elements at play, so I didn’t understand why she is our primary voice. I found myself groaning when I saw her name at the top of chapters, starving for an insight into Hayden’s ever-shifting mood or begging for a crumb of the delicious nectar of Horatio’s POV (again, GAY SENTIENT SECURITY SYSTEM OCCUPYING ANOTHER CHARACTER’S MIND). This didn’t ruin the story for me by any means, but as I think back on this book, this grumbling of frustration sits deep in my stomach, and I think it is the book’s biggest failure.
This issue also comes into play with the use of the setting. Again, absolute raw genius on Liu’s part in dreaming this up. What better playground for Hamlet to take place in than a scientific lab focused on the manipulation of life and death, a lab built by a dead man, a treasure trove of secrets and power. And then of course, putting that space into lockdown, creating an urgency and constraint to the story. I will say, I feel like this book uses the claustrophobic elements of this setting to its benefit, but not so much the secretive elements. There are a few rooms that had been previously unknown to the characters left among these halls (including Horatio) until the start of the book, but those rooms are explored fairly early on and everything is divulged to the audience quite quickly. I think there were a few different ways these elements could have been elevated. Some of the events that take place in these rooms could have been held from the audience until the end, or the rooms could have been used more like escape room obstacles with the characters needing to find information to get inside, and one could have been really hard to get into until the very end of the book. It was just such a delicious and well-crafted environment that it felt almost wasteful to use it as this story did.
I also felt like at some point, we lose the thread of Hayden’s dad, Graham. With his death being the inciting incident of the story and his looming presence functioning as a driving force for so much of the book, it was odd to have his influence peter off at the end. There are a couple of moments where he “haunts” the characters towards the beginning, and I would have loved some return of this somehow at the end of the story. I do think there is some meaningful strength to be found in a growing absence, but with the entire book taking place in a building made of his dreams, secrets, and fears, I wished for just one more narrative punch from him (beyond the grave), even thematically, to carry out the end of the book.
The last thing I’ll mention about this struggle of tool usage is in relation to the frame of the story. Again, a REALLY cool idea. I loved the idea of this being a work written by an external party, cataloguing bits of information. There are scattered footnotes that add an extra textural layer of sci-fi world-building, and I would have liked some more context at the end of the story to help tie this all together, giving us some understanding of the impact of these events on the world and the scientific community. So much is teased through these footnotes without actually adding anything.
Lastly, I feel mixed about the ending. I won’t spoil anything, of course, and I’m running out of space here so I’ll keep it short. I like the commentary it left the story with. It thematically holds the right notes and is narratively satisfying, but I felt like there is more it could do in conversation with the source text. There are some stunning parallels I anticipated that never end up playing out, and maybe that’s just me being set up for disappointment by my own imagination, but it did partially let me down in that way. That aside, I found it to be an unexpected and interesting ending, one with a lot of loss but also a lot of hope, and it works really well for the narrative at hand.
Overall, despite my gripe and its manifestations, I actually really recommend this book. I don’t rate books often, but this would likely sit near a 4-star for me. At the end of the day, it is a great read, a riveting and unique Hamlet retelling, a profound story about self-actualization and mental health, and I could not put it down. And I’ll say it again: despite them not necessarily always being utilized to the greatest benefit, every single choice made was nothing short of PURE. FUCKING. GENIUS.
Anyway, if you made it all the way through this review, comment what star sign you think Hamlet would be, because he was a Scorpio in this. I say Sagittarius, Aries, or Aquarius.
Thank you to the publisher for sending me an ARC of this book in exchange for an honest review!
Members of The Library of Arden get early access to my full-length reviews!
CW: blood and gore, death, death of father, dead body, suicidal ideation, suicide (mention), anxiety/panic attacks, needles, medical content, self-harm (CW on-page), gun violence
THE DEATH I GAVE HIM is a bold, unique Hamlet retelling that emphasizes its source text’s insular and intimate environment through the form of a locked-room thriller and hinges itself on themes of mortality and mental illness.
The book itself takes the form of a fictional novel written by an unnamed third party attempting to organize public documentation and private speculations into a cohesive tale recounting one particularly tragic and terrible night.
Open on Elsinore, a place of myth and speculation. A place where two men, father and son, play God behind closed doors to achieve miracles that defy life as we know it. A place with as many secrets as the man who founded it.
And that man is now dead. But how, and why?
Enter the suspects, the only other human beings left in Elsinore this quiet night: Hayden Lichfield, the scientist’s son, who would do just about anything to escape death. Charles, the scientist’s brother and Hayden’s uncle. Paul Xia, Charles’ right hand man. Felicia, Paul’s daughter and Hayden’s ex-girlfriend, who happens to be shadowing her father on this particular evening. Gabriel Rasmussen, a young, dutiful security guard. And watching over them all is Elsinore’s advanced AI security system and data interface: Horatio.
The choice to make Horatio the literal sentient security system of this story’s location is maybe my favorite choice I’ve ever seen made in a retelling of anything, ever.
Hamlet is no stranger to surveillance-heavy adaptations. Famously, Hamlet (2009) directed by Gregory Doran and starring David Tennant as well as Hamlet (2018) directed by Robert Icke and starring Andrew Scott, utilize security footage to cast a shadow of scrutiny over the play’s events. Modern adaptations may gravitate towards security systems as a storytelling mode because of how easily they translate into the world of Hamlet, a play riddled with discussions of private knowledge vs public knowledge, a constant occupation with eavesdropping as well as bearing witness, and perhaps mostly: immense amounts of interrogation.
THE DEATH I GAVE HIM, through a surveillance-driven lens, inherently places itself in a difficult position: in company with those two previously mentioned, beloved adaptations. But I think Liu brings the right perspective to this conversation. While these two other adaptations use surveillance mostly to add a contemporary understanding of political, public, and private pressure on Hamlet’s behavior, THE DEATH I GAVE HIM takes this surveillance a step further. It does of course add that atmosphere of claustrophobia, but this version also asks: what if the surveillance is not solely a constraint, but an aid?
As anyone will learn in any kind of academic introduction to Hamlet, Horatio’s role is one of great importance: the storyteller. It is his job, throughout the whole play, to bear witness. In Hamlet’s words, Horatio “hast been As one in suffering all that suffers nothing, A man that Fortunes’s buffets and rewards Hast ta’en with equal thanks.” That is to say, a man unaffected. He is not, as the others are, “passion’s slave,” but is rather an innocent witnessing party. His main (and perhaps only) investment is in Hamlet’s wellbeing as his lover dear friend. And at the end of the play, he is the only one left standing, burdened with the task of conveying the events as they played out.
So translating Horatio into this story as not only a sentient building–as the home for the story itself–but also as a data interface and therefore a literal vessel of memory and information, is no less than absolutely fucking genius.
Throughout the story, Horatio’s POV is expressed in a couple of formats, mostly video surveillance and an AI data system log. The data system log is transcribed as a consistent narration, a train of thought replicating that of a human’s, giving him a uniquely biased and yet theoretically objective viewpoint. Who knew AIs could be filled with such queer yearning?
At the beginning of the story, Horatio finds Hayden with his father’s body. Scared, grieving, and uncertain, Hayden decides he needs an ally in his investigation into his father’s death. He needs someone to steady him, but he also needs insurance. Fortunately, his father set up a memory upload system in Horatio years ago, something Hayden had connection to but never turned on, until now. Once activated, this system achieves two things:
The book itself takes the form of a fictional novel written by an unnamed third party attempting to organize public documentation and private speculations into a cohesive tale recounting one particularly tragic and terrible night.
Open on Elsinore, a place of myth and speculation. A place where two men, father and son, play God behind closed doors to achieve miracles that defy life as we know it. A place with as many secrets as the man who founded it.
And that man is now dead. But how, and why?
Enter the suspects, the only other human beings left in Elsinore this quiet night: Hayden Lichfield, the scientist’s son, who would do just about anything to escape death. Charles, the scientist’s brother and Hayden’s uncle. Paul Xia, Charles’ right hand man. Felicia, Paul’s daughter and Hayden’s ex-girlfriend, who happens to be shadowing her father on this particular evening. Gabriel Rasmussen, a young, dutiful security guard. And watching over them all is Elsinore’s advanced AI security system and data interface: Horatio.
The choice to make Horatio the literal sentient security system of this story’s location is maybe my favorite choice I’ve ever seen made in a retelling of anything, ever.
Hamlet is no stranger to surveillance-heavy adaptations. Famously, Hamlet (2009) directed by Gregory Doran and starring David Tennant as well as Hamlet (2018) directed by Robert Icke and starring Andrew Scott, utilize security footage to cast a shadow of scrutiny over the play’s events. Modern adaptations may gravitate towards security systems as a storytelling mode because of how easily they translate into the world of Hamlet, a play riddled with discussions of private knowledge vs public knowledge, a constant occupation with eavesdropping as well as bearing witness, and perhaps mostly: immense amounts of interrogation.
THE DEATH I GAVE HIM, through a surveillance-driven lens, inherently places itself in a difficult position: in company with those two previously mentioned, beloved adaptations. But I think Liu brings the right perspective to this conversation. While these two other adaptations use surveillance mostly to add a contemporary understanding of political, public, and private pressure on Hamlet’s behavior, THE DEATH I GAVE HIM takes this surveillance a step further. It does of course add that atmosphere of claustrophobia, but this version also asks: what if the surveillance is not solely a constraint, but an aid?
As anyone will learn in any kind of academic introduction to Hamlet, Horatio’s role is one of great importance: the storyteller. It is his job, throughout the whole play, to bear witness. In Hamlet’s words, Horatio “hast been As one in suffering all that suffers nothing, A man that Fortunes’s buffets and rewards Hast ta’en with equal thanks.” That is to say, a man unaffected. He is not, as the others are, “passion’s slave,” but is rather an innocent witnessing party. His main (and perhaps only) investment is in Hamlet’s wellbeing as his lover dear friend. And at the end of the play, he is the only one left standing, burdened with the task of conveying the events as they played out.
So translating Horatio into this story as not only a sentient building–as the home for the story itself–but also as a data interface and therefore a literal vessel of memory and information, is no less than absolutely fucking genius.
Throughout the story, Horatio’s POV is expressed in a couple of formats, mostly video surveillance and an AI data system log. The data system log is transcribed as a consistent narration, a train of thought replicating that of a human’s, giving him a uniquely biased and yet theoretically objective viewpoint. Who knew AIs could be filled with such queer yearning?
At the beginning of the story, Horatio finds Hayden with his father’s body. Scared, grieving, and uncertain, Hayden decides he needs an ally in his investigation into his father’s death. He needs someone to steady him, but he also needs insurance. Fortunately, his father set up a memory upload system in Horatio years ago, something Hayden had connection to but never turned on, until now. Once activated, this system achieves two things:
- Hayden’s memory is now uploaded into Horatio’s data system. This allows Hayden a narrative POV, his thoughts and experiences transcribed similarly to that of Horatio’s.
And Hayden is a fascinating character and a truly brilliant interpretation of Hamlet. As I mentioned earlier, Hayden’s foundational character trait is his desperate fear of death, to an irrational point. He is constantly spiraling down rabbit holes about bodily deterioration, regularly checks his pulse to ensure he’s still alive, and has spent years working incredibly hard on a formula to eradicate death altogether.
But fascinatingly, at the same time, Hayden does not want to live. He spends much of the book fairly suicidal (which is probably unsurprising to anyone who knows anything about Hamlet, the “to be or not to be” soliloquy being literally just Hamlet philosophizing over whether or not he should kill himself). I can not give enough praise to Liu in creating such a juicy character conflict: desperately not wanting to live but endlessly haunted with a phobia of dying. It allows Hayden to feel full of friction and narrative tension even in stillness, an ever-swirling storm. But, it, more than anything, perfectly represents these core pillars of Hamlet as a character, though put through a pressure cooker. Hamlet may be preoccupied with the memento mori, but Hayden becomes memento mori, straddling life and death in every constant moment. - Now connected to Hayden through his nervous system, Horatio is actually able to… occupy that system.
This, of course, meaning that Horatio can read Hayden’s mind, so that they’re able to communicate through thoughts alone.
For many, many reasons, Hamlet and Horatio’s relationship is one of my favorite parts of Hamlet. We see this concept of bodily occupation and ownership between Hamlet and Horatio in the text of Hamlet itself: “I will wear him. In my heart's core, ay, in my heart of heart, As I do thee.” Hayden may not literally wear AI Horatio in his heart’s core, but he certainly does wear him in his mind.
And Liu’s tangible representation of their intertwined hearts, minds, and beings is so well done. Having Hayden inside Horatio and Horatio inside of Hayden produces an inherent eroticism as tenants of each others’ bodies, and a constant intimacy to their relationship despite the distance created by the epistolary format. And this of course, helps the queer romantic element of the book to really pay off. I won’t go into too much detail, but I was not expecting this book to get remotely as spicy as it did. (I would’ve loved some eroticism with the surveillance elements and the fact that Horatio’s body is the building, but I did really like what was done on page!)
And then we have one more POV in this book: Felicia. Felicia’s narrative format, rather than memory data, is featured through interviews and writing of her own, discussing the events in retrospect. This provides a really interesting relationship between her POV and that of Hayden’s and Horatio’s. Theirs are told in third person present tense, offering a sense of distance to the reader but an immediacy and intimacy to the circumstance, while Felicia’s is told in first person past tense, providing the audience with the feeling of being close to the narrator, but distance from the circumstance.
Felicia is a really brilliant Ophelia. Liu takes the bare bones of Shakespeare’s character and adds so much meat to them. This Ophelia holds so much agency, adds a really crucial perspective to this chaotic environment, and truly balances out this world and this cast. And on top of her characterization, her POV being through her own chosen words and through a more traditional format grounds the reader, adding a sense of relatability in this high-stakes futuristic environment.
Now, here is where I do have a bit of a gripe. While this book’s strengths lie in its choices, its weaknesses lie in the utilization of them. Liu meticulously carved themselves a literary tool belt of pure narrative gold, but sometimes used a chisel when a mallet would’ve covered more ground. It wasn’t that they used a less effective tool, as all their tools were highly effective and well-prepped, but that they just struggled to know which tool to use at what time in order to optimize their craft.
Because when I explain these different POVs, you would likely think that Horatio’s POV–as the sentient setting of the story and famously being titled The Storyteller of Hamlet, therefore being in the best position to be narrator both in terms of the retelling and in terms of the story at hand–would dominate the text, with Hayden and Felicia’s POVs to flesh the narrative out when necessary. Because one of the characters is literally a sentient security system who can read the mind and feelings of one of your other characters, so why would you not try to get as much mileage out of that as physically possible? Plus, since there are parts of the building Horatio couldn’t see into, it would make those moments outside of his POV feel all the more impactful. But that is tragically not the case.
In fact, this book doesn’t even have equal balance of the three narrators. I’d actually estimate that about 2/3 of the book is from Felicia’s POV, gaining frequency as the story goes on. Which is SO infuriating. Because though she is a great character, I unfortunately became sick of her, especially with her textual format being the least interesting conceptually of the three. Not that her POV is bad by any means, but it is set up to be–as I said–a great grounding element, something to bring us readers back down to earth. But her reflective tone, her distance from the core conflict, and her lack of a relationship to surveillance, inherently makes her less useful as a dominating narration. Being in her POV limits our access to the absolutely scrumptious elements at play, so I didn’t understand why she is our primary voice. I found myself groaning when I saw her name at the top of chapters, starving for an insight into Hayden’s ever-shifting mood or begging for a crumb of the delicious nectar of Horatio’s POV (again, GAY SENTIENT SECURITY SYSTEM OCCUPYING ANOTHER CHARACTER’S MIND). This didn’t ruin the story for me by any means, but as I think back on this book, this grumbling of frustration sits deep in my stomach, and I think it is the book’s biggest failure.
This issue also comes into play with the use of the setting. Again, absolute raw genius on Liu’s part in dreaming this up. What better playground for Hamlet to take place in than a scientific lab focused on the manipulation of life and death, a lab built by a dead man, a treasure trove of secrets and power. And then of course, putting that space into lockdown, creating an urgency and constraint to the story. I will say, I feel like this book uses the claustrophobic elements of this setting to its benefit, but not so much the secretive elements. There are a few rooms that had been previously unknown to the characters left among these halls (including Horatio) until the start of the book, but those rooms are explored fairly early on and everything is divulged to the audience quite quickly. I think there were a few different ways these elements could have been elevated. Some of the events that take place in these rooms could have been held from the audience until the end, or the rooms could have been used more like escape room obstacles with the characters needing to find information to get inside, and one could have been really hard to get into until the very end of the book. It was just such a delicious and well-crafted environment that it felt almost wasteful to use it as this story did.
I also felt like at some point, we lose the thread of Hayden’s dad, Graham. With his death being the inciting incident of the story and his looming presence functioning as a driving force for so much of the book, it was odd to have his influence peter off at the end. There are a couple of moments where he “haunts” the characters towards the beginning, and I would have loved some return of this somehow at the end of the story. I do think there is some meaningful strength to be found in a growing absence, but with the entire book taking place in a building made of his dreams, secrets, and fears, I wished for just one more narrative punch from him (beyond the grave), even thematically, to carry out the end of the book.
The last thing I’ll mention about this struggle of tool usage is in relation to the frame of the story. Again, a REALLY cool idea. I loved the idea of this being a work written by an external party, cataloguing bits of information. There are scattered footnotes that add an extra textural layer of sci-fi world-building, and I would have liked some more context at the end of the story to help tie this all together, giving us some understanding of the impact of these events on the world and the scientific community. So much is teased through these footnotes without actually adding anything.
Lastly, I feel mixed about the ending. I won’t spoil anything, of course, and I’m running out of space here so I’ll keep it short. I like the commentary it left the story with. It thematically holds the right notes and is narratively satisfying, but I felt like there is more it could do in conversation with the source text. There are some stunning parallels I anticipated that never end up playing out, and maybe that’s just me being set up for disappointment by my own imagination, but it did partially let me down in that way. That aside, I found it to be an unexpected and interesting ending, one with a lot of loss but also a lot of hope, and it works really well for the narrative at hand.
Overall, despite my gripe and its manifestations, I actually really recommend this book. I don’t rate books often, but this would likely sit near a 4-star for me. At the end of the day, it is a great read, a riveting and unique Hamlet retelling, a profound story about self-actualization and mental health, and I could not put it down. And I’ll say it again: despite them not necessarily always being utilized to the greatest benefit, every single choice made was nothing short of PURE. FUCKING. GENIUS.
Anyway, if you made it all the way through this review, comment what star sign you think Hamlet would be, because he was a Scorpio in this. I say Sagittarius, Aries, or Aquarius.
Thank you to the publisher for sending me an ARC of this book in exchange for an honest review!
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CW: blood and gore, death, death of father, dead body, suicidal ideation, suicide (mention), anxiety/panic attacks, needles, medical content, self-harm (CW on-page), gun violence