Scan barcode
jennieartemis's reviews
317 reviews
Across the Green Grass Fields by Seanan McGuire
adventurous
reflective
medium-paced
3.25
TL;DR: Thoughtful horse girl tale that feels a bit misplaced in the larger series
In complete isolation, Across the Green Grass Fields is a sweet if simple portal fantasy. It is clearly focused around an obvious but compelling tale of accepting difference, and truly reads like a classic fable or fairy tale. I do like that we see intersex representation, although I am again questioning whether this representation has been thoroughly thought through: having the "better world" where Regan comes to term with herself being one where the society segregates entirely on biological sex is a rather bizarre choice, and honestly I don't think her being intersex gets enough thematic attention in general (nothing against casual representation, but in such a clearly moral tale, it feels bizarre not to really embrace intersex pride). But as a Wayward Children book, I can't help wondering what this instalment brings. It skews far younger than the rest of the series, but couldn't realistically be given to a MG reader on its own (not least with the downbeat and inconclusive ending). And I just don't know that it brings any thematic or conceptual depth to the series that another book hasn't; if anything, it only continues to muddle what children finding doors even represents. If I focus entirely on Regan's tale, I am surprisingly satisfied, but I don't get what this series is even trying to do now.
5/10 in personal rating system
In complete isolation, Across the Green Grass Fields is a sweet if simple portal fantasy. It is clearly focused around an obvious but compelling tale of accepting difference, and truly reads like a classic fable or fairy tale. I do like that we see intersex representation, although I am again questioning whether this representation has been thoroughly thought through: having the "better world" where Regan comes to term with herself being one where the society segregates entirely on biological sex is a rather bizarre choice, and honestly I don't think her being intersex gets enough thematic attention in general (nothing against casual representation, but in such a clearly moral tale, it feels bizarre not to really embrace intersex pride). But as a Wayward Children book, I can't help wondering what this instalment brings. It skews far younger than the rest of the series, but couldn't realistically be given to a MG reader on its own (not least with the downbeat and inconclusive ending). And I just don't know that it brings any thematic or conceptual depth to the series that another book hasn't; if anything, it only continues to muddle what children finding doors even represents. If I focus entirely on Regan's tale, I am surprisingly satisfied, but I don't get what this series is even trying to do now.
5/10 in personal rating system
Come Tumbling Down by Seanan McGuire
adventurous
fast-paced
3.0
TL;DR: More of the "plot-over-theme" Wayward Children material, which has the same conceptual issues I've struggle with through all the books
Come Tumbling Down is another round of my least favourite aspects of the Wayward Children, even if it's still an easy read. This is far more plotty than thematic, with the majority of the book being things happening one after the other, and quick introductions to more of the world. I talk about my issues with the central metaphor of "otherworlds as perfect belonging" in pretty much every review, but it genuinely is such a sore point for me: with the Moors, it feels particularly hard to buy into the idea that this is a world that suits some people, despite its absolute cruelty and unfairness (I think framing these different worlds as just "cultural differences" is a bit disingenuous). All the plot points regarding resurrection do take so much of the punch out of previous books, and give this one a real sense of predictability. And what should be the heart of the book, the character interactions, falls flat for me: most bits of dialogue seem to be either attempts at humour, or the characters making "A Point TM", without much genuine relationship-building. And I know it's nitpicky, but when this book is both short and sold on its diversity, little niggles about representation are going to stand out: Jack's OCD feels very real, but it being paired with Jack's unabashed monstrousness is uncomfortable; Alexis's condition is framed really inconsistently in terms of disability, both as just casual and accepted part of her life and as great tragedy that sidelines her and would be horrifying for anyone else; the body-swapping element is linked to dysphoria, which I do think is an interesting idea, but, for me, the liberation of being trans is realising you can make the body you don't like into one you do, not a fatalistic "I cannot live in this body". I like that these are books I can blast through in a sitting, but I don't love that I leave every one with half a dozen troubling thoughts.
4/10 in personal rating system
Come Tumbling Down is another round of my least favourite aspects of the Wayward Children, even if it's still an easy read. This is far more plotty than thematic, with the majority of the book being things happening one after the other, and quick introductions to more of the world. I talk about my issues with the central metaphor of "otherworlds as perfect belonging" in pretty much every review, but it genuinely is such a sore point for me: with the Moors, it feels particularly hard to buy into the idea that this is a world that suits some people, despite its absolute cruelty and unfairness (I think framing these different worlds as just "cultural differences" is a bit disingenuous). All the plot points regarding resurrection do take so much of the punch out of previous books, and give this one a real sense of predictability. And what should be the heart of the book, the character interactions, falls flat for me: most bits of dialogue seem to be either attempts at humour, or the characters making "A Point TM", without much genuine relationship-building. And I know it's nitpicky, but when this book is both short and sold on its diversity, little niggles about representation are going to stand out: Jack's OCD feels very real, but it being paired with Jack's unabashed monstrousness is uncomfortable; Alexis's condition is framed really inconsistently in terms of disability, both as just casual and accepted part of her life and as great tragedy that sidelines her and would be horrifying for anyone else; the body-swapping element is linked to dysphoria, which I do think is an interesting idea, but, for me, the liberation of being trans is realising you can make the body you don't like into one you do, not a fatalistic "I cannot live in this body". I like that these are books I can blast through in a sitting, but I don't love that I leave every one with half a dozen troubling thoughts.
4/10 in personal rating system
In an Absent Dream by Seanan McGuire
adventurous
reflective
3.75
TL;DR: Poignant and focused portal fantasy slightly hindered by the thematic direction of the whole series
In an Absent Dream feels like the most cohesive Wayward Children book I've read so far, and is stronger for it. The narrative is clearly plotted and paced around Lundy's development, and her relationship with both worlds, and manages to pass time effectively (although I cannot fathom why some really important moments happen off-page). The Goblin Market is a very imaginative take on the trope, really making the most of the concept of fair value. My problem with the book is the same as the whole series: theming. While the narrative really tries to convince you the Market is positive for Lundy, I still cannot help but read it (as with cases in the other books) as a child leaving one restrictive/abusive environment for another one, merely appearing better, which is such a classic pattern of real world abuse, and I don't get the sense that the book grasps that. And as a whole, I have to ask what this book is really about, thematically. As a prequel, it had its end set, and I'm not sure that it actually made for the best ending to how this story had turned out: there is a vague but unconvincing attempt at a moral. I still quite enjoyed reading this, and definitely found Lundy compelling, but my qualms with the messaging of this series are still making it hard to recommend.
6/10 in personal rating system
In an Absent Dream feels like the most cohesive Wayward Children book I've read so far, and is stronger for it. The narrative is clearly plotted and paced around Lundy's development, and her relationship with both worlds, and manages to pass time effectively (although I cannot fathom why some really important moments happen off-page). The Goblin Market is a very imaginative take on the trope, really making the most of the concept of fair value. My problem with the book is the same as the whole series: theming. While the narrative really tries to convince you the Market is positive for Lundy, I still cannot help but read it (as with cases in the other books) as a child leaving one restrictive/abusive environment for another one, merely appearing better, which is such a classic pattern of real world abuse, and I don't get the sense that the book grasps that. And as a whole, I have to ask what this book is really about, thematically. As a prequel, it had its end set, and I'm not sure that it actually made for the best ending to how this story had turned out: there is a vague but unconvincing attempt at a moral. I still quite enjoyed reading this, and definitely found Lundy compelling, but my qualms with the messaging of this series are still making it hard to recommend.
6/10 in personal rating system
The Atlas Paradox by Olivie Blake
dark
informative
reflective
slow-paced
2.75
TL;DR: Dark academia so bogged down in misery and miscellany that it's hard to care (but something about the characters makes you anyway)
(eARC provided by Netgalley)
The Atlas Paradox is a book I simply didn't enjoy . . . and yet it still has a bit of a hold on me. I think the pacing and structuring of this book is so off, with it often feeling long and self-indulgent. Atlas Six's premise (six people in, five people out) made the slow pace and the fractious relationships incredibly tense, but here it feels so aimless. The constant sniping of characters against each other is honestly wearying - I get that they are flawed characters and relationships, but I just think there are not enough moments of genuine human connection amidst all the snark, explaining, and philosophising. The antagonists and side characters also feel at best sidelined, and at worst really mishandled (I have particular issues with one new character's arc). It's difficult to know what the narrative is going for ideologically, with so much resting on book 3. Despite all these grievances, however, I was shocked that as the finale ramped up, I genuinely cared - there is just something about this cast which is irresistible. Although I'm not sure I look forward to the final instalment, it feels like a necessary inevitability to see how this comes together (if it can).
3/10 in personal rating system
(eARC provided by Netgalley)
The Atlas Paradox is a book I simply didn't enjoy . . . and yet it still has a bit of a hold on me. I think the pacing and structuring of this book is so off, with it often feeling long and self-indulgent. Atlas Six's premise (six people in, five people out) made the slow pace and the fractious relationships incredibly tense, but here it feels so aimless. The constant sniping of characters against each other is honestly wearying - I get that they are flawed characters and relationships, but I just think there are not enough moments of genuine human connection amidst all the snark, explaining, and philosophising. The antagonists and side characters also feel at best sidelined, and at worst really mishandled (I have particular issues with one new character's arc). It's difficult to know what the narrative is going for ideologically, with so much resting on book 3. Despite all these grievances, however, I was shocked that as the finale ramped up, I genuinely cared - there is just something about this cast which is irresistible. Although I'm not sure I look forward to the final instalment, it feels like a necessary inevitability to see how this comes together (if it can).
3/10 in personal rating system
The World We Make by N.K. Jemisin
reflective
tense
medium-paced
4.0
Review coming closer to publication
(eARC provided by Netgalley)
7/10 in personal rating system
(eARC provided by Netgalley)
7/10 in personal rating system
A Restless Truth by Freya Marske
hopeful
reflective
tense
slow-paced
4.0
TL;DR: Complex and compelling love story about authenticity and pretence that can feel stifled by the actual magical plot ongoing
(eARC provided by Netgalley)
The romance of A Restless Truth clicked with me in a way its predecessor's didn't, and I don't think it's just because it's sapphic (although obviously I love that). I find the characters so complex and believable, particularly Violet, who is such a fascinating figure - although a part of me wonders if it'd have been even better if we didn't have her POV so we could be as confused and doubtful as Maud. Their relationship feels appropriate to the short timescale of the book, while also having real depth as they both work through what they want, with no easy answers. Even if I am not a huge fan of sex scenes, I do think these ones were compelling, realistic, and acted as clear points of development in the characters' arcs. My problem is that I wish this was just a fantasy romance (or even a non-fantasy romance): to me, the Last Contract plot is more hindrance than hook, and it makes this book so much longer than it needs to be. The villains can feel quite flat compared to the main cast, and I didn't love every time a new development happened which seemed only to prolong the plot. Half its length, and centred on the thematically and emotionally resonant tales of Maud and Violet, I think this could have been truly special; as it is though, I did like it more than I expected and I greatly respect the things it did well.
7/10 in personal rating system
(eARC provided by Netgalley)
The romance of A Restless Truth clicked with me in a way its predecessor's didn't, and I don't think it's just because it's sapphic (although obviously I love that). I find the characters so complex and believable, particularly Violet, who is such a fascinating figure - although a part of me wonders if it'd have been even better if we didn't have her POV so we could be as confused and doubtful as Maud. Their relationship feels appropriate to the short timescale of the book, while also having real depth as they both work through what they want, with no easy answers. Even if I am not a huge fan of sex scenes, I do think these ones were compelling, realistic, and acted as clear points of development in the characters' arcs. My problem is that I wish this was just a fantasy romance (or even a non-fantasy romance): to me, the Last Contract plot is more hindrance than hook, and it makes this book so much longer than it needs to be. The villains can feel quite flat compared to the main cast, and I didn't love every time a new development happened which seemed only to prolong the plot. Half its length, and centred on the thematically and emotionally resonant tales of Maud and Violet, I think this could have been truly special; as it is though, I did like it more than I expected and I greatly respect the things it did well.
7/10 in personal rating system
The Laws of Magic by M. Ullrich
tense
fast-paced
2.25
TL;DR: Not an entirely unpleasant fantasy romance, but definitely an insubstantial one with some real questionable choices
(eARC provided by Netgalley)
The Laws of Magic was an easy read, but I can't say it was a satisfying one. Rather than blending together urban fantasy and romance, it more felt like you couldn't be sure what genre you were in from scene to scene (which flew past, both strength and weakness). And unfortunately I really didn't like the main couple's dynamic, either on an interpersonal level or with regard to the broader narrative. With some actively dubious elements thrown in (the exoticism of the dark skinned succubus, some strangeness in the circumstances of the sex scene, and some real mixed messaging regarding assimilation), I simply cannot recommend this, even if, for me, it was a bit of a palate cleanser from heavier fare.
2/10 in personal rating system
(eARC provided by Netgalley)
The Laws of Magic was an easy read, but I can't say it was a satisfying one. Rather than blending together urban fantasy and romance, it more felt like you couldn't be sure what genre you were in from scene to scene (which flew past, both strength and weakness). And unfortunately I really didn't like the main couple's dynamic, either on an interpersonal level or with regard to the broader narrative. With some actively dubious elements thrown in (the exoticism of the dark skinned succubus, some strangeness in the circumstances of the sex scene, and some real mixed messaging regarding assimilation), I simply cannot recommend this, even if, for me, it was a bit of a palate cleanser from heavier fare.
2/10 in personal rating system
Babel: An Arcane History by R.F. Kuang
dark
emotional
informative
slow-paced
3.25
TL;DR: [I shan't try to summarise my thoughts in this case - read on if you are interested]
It truly hurts not to like Babel, because I am so in love with the idea of this book; a postcolonial deconstruction of Oxford focused on translation and diaspora is pure genius. And certainly the emotional core of this book, with Robin and his relationships with Lovell, Griffin, his friends, Canton, and Oxford, is the best part, with a suitably powerful ending (I do also find Letty's arc really interesting, although I agree with other reviewers that something feels a little off in the framing of her). But unfortunately I had such fundamental issues with the other choices here, including stylistic, narrative, and thematic, that I just could not enjoy the book.
I was a little shocked by the lack of distinct voice or style in this book (except for the occasional dry comment), and while I don't inherently mind modern language being used, I agree with other reviewers that it feels a little contradictory to the message of the book. This was really compounded by the constant factoids which really disrupted the flow of things and felt, to me at least, unnecessary (this particularly goes for the footnotes, which I just didn't find justified). It's not helped by the fact that I have studied etymology myself, and so either knew a lot of it, or, even worse, could see that some of it was just wrong - but even if I didn't have that basis, this kind of story-as-essay is not for me.
I initially thought the idea of magical silver which captures meaning lost in translation was absolutely genius, but the further I got in, the more it sat wrong with me. Firstly, I just wasn't convinced by the examples given, which could feel particularly contrived and sometimes even contradictory. But more importantly, I was concerned by what this said about translation: the idea of some concrete meaning that is only ever lost (with not a lot of attention to what is gained or changed) feels remarkably shallow. This wouldn't matter if this book wasn't trying so hard to be intellectual. And, coupled with the fact that I wasn't sold on how the magic shaped this alternate Britain, I just found the magic to be a weakness of the plot rather than a strength.
And this massively impacts its thematic depiction of Oxford. I'll be clear up front that I am entirely here for a critique of the institution and city that highlights its racism, privilege, and elitism - thus my excitement for the book. But the silver element turned Oxford into the equivalent of an industrial city, literally supplying tools of the empire. Not only did I struggle to suspend my disbelief (a handful of academics doing essentially manual labour for an entire empire didn't seem like how an empire would operate), but it renders most commentary on real-world Oxford (and especially modern Oxford) meaninglesss. There is no single concrete method of exploiting workers and producing power: Oxford's connections to empire, nationalism, and white supremacy are far more insidious and wide-ranging. Silver works as a good symbol of imperial exploitation of colonies, but it really can't say a lot about the mechanisms of influence, wealth, and nepotism that affect educational institutions like this. We end up with a far flatter read that can (at some, but not all points) suggest that if only Oxford was more inclusive and didn't supply the literal weapons of empire, it would be a lovely place.
This review is substantially longer than what I usually do, and I hope that shows that I care deeply about books like this and the issues they portray. There is an extent to which this is affected by own experiences and perspective, but I do also think this book doesn't hold up under a critical lens. And although I do hate calling books pretentious, there is something about the way this book uses the veneer of intellectualism to obscure flawed or shallow critical work, that really rubs me the wrong way - it is, after all, one of the very things that Oxford and academia does.
5/10 in personal rating system
It truly hurts not to like Babel, because I am so in love with the idea of this book; a postcolonial deconstruction of Oxford focused on translation and diaspora is pure genius. And certainly the emotional core of this book, with Robin and his relationships with Lovell, Griffin, his friends, Canton, and Oxford, is the best part, with a suitably powerful ending (I do also find Letty's arc really interesting, although I agree with other reviewers that something feels a little off in the framing of her). But unfortunately I had such fundamental issues with the other choices here, including stylistic, narrative, and thematic, that I just could not enjoy the book.
I was a little shocked by the lack of distinct voice or style in this book (except for the occasional dry comment), and while I don't inherently mind modern language being used, I agree with other reviewers that it feels a little contradictory to the message of the book. This was really compounded by the constant factoids which really disrupted the flow of things and felt, to me at least, unnecessary (this particularly goes for the footnotes, which I just didn't find justified). It's not helped by the fact that I have studied etymology myself, and so either knew a lot of it, or, even worse, could see that some of it was just wrong - but even if I didn't have that basis, this kind of story-as-essay is not for me.
I initially thought the idea of magical silver which captures meaning lost in translation was absolutely genius, but the further I got in, the more it sat wrong with me. Firstly, I just wasn't convinced by the examples given, which could feel particularly contrived and sometimes even contradictory. But more importantly, I was concerned by what this said about translation: the idea of some concrete meaning that is only ever lost (with not a lot of attention to what is gained or changed) feels remarkably shallow. This wouldn't matter if this book wasn't trying so hard to be intellectual. And, coupled with the fact that I wasn't sold on how the magic shaped this alternate Britain, I just found the magic to be a weakness of the plot rather than a strength.
And this massively impacts its thematic depiction of Oxford. I'll be clear up front that I am entirely here for a critique of the institution and city that highlights its racism, privilege, and elitism - thus my excitement for the book. But the silver element turned Oxford into the equivalent of an industrial city, literally supplying tools of the empire. Not only did I struggle to suspend my disbelief (a handful of academics doing essentially manual labour for an entire empire didn't seem like how an empire would operate), but it renders most commentary on real-world Oxford (and especially modern Oxford) meaninglesss. There is no single concrete method of exploiting workers and producing power: Oxford's connections to empire, nationalism, and white supremacy are far more insidious and wide-ranging. Silver works as a good symbol of imperial exploitation of colonies, but it really can't say a lot about the mechanisms of influence, wealth, and nepotism that affect educational institutions like this. We end up with a far flatter read that can (at some, but not all points) suggest that if only Oxford was more inclusive and didn't supply the literal weapons of empire, it would be a lovely place.
This review is substantially longer than what I usually do, and I hope that shows that I care deeply about books like this and the issues they portray. There is an extent to which this is affected by own experiences and perspective, but I do also think this book doesn't hold up under a critical lens. And although I do hate calling books pretentious, there is something about the way this book uses the veneer of intellectualism to obscure flawed or shallow critical work, that really rubs me the wrong way - it is, after all, one of the very things that Oxford and academia does.
5/10 in personal rating system
A Marvellous Light by Freya Marske
adventurous
mysterious
slow-paced
3.0
TL;DR: Combo of fantasy and romance features, but unfortunately the wrong ones for me
A Marvellous Light is, at its core, a straightforward and competently written mixture of fantasy and romance, and so I feel bad for really not liking it. There is an intriguing premise there - I was genuinely so up for an office odd couple romance with a civil servant accidentally sucked into a magic world, but that really isn't this book. Instead, we have a fairly unremarkable and quite slow quest that doesn't do that much with the setting and period. The way it all played out felt weirdly contrived and yet also insubstantial (this book ends rather unresolved, even for the first book of a trilogy). I think the romance was due to be the heart of this, but it is unfortunately not for me: while they end up in a good place, the romance starts so unpleasantly that I couldn't get invested, and the sex scenes feel like the feature passages of the book, which would be fine in an out-and-out romance (and for a reader more inclined towards them than me), but is a strange juxtaposition to everything else. The nail in the coffin is the ideological feel, as all the main characters are rich and privileged with minimal critique (in fact, there is a case to be made that the plot quietly supports power staying in the "right hands"). This is just not a book for me, but not because the concept was bad - truly a case where the execution took it further and further away from my own wants and expectations - maybe the f/f sequel will be more my speed, but I am definitely concerned.
4/10 in personal rating system
A Marvellous Light is, at its core, a straightforward and competently written mixture of fantasy and romance, and so I feel bad for really not liking it. There is an intriguing premise there - I was genuinely so up for an office odd couple romance with a civil servant accidentally sucked into a magic world, but that really isn't this book. Instead, we have a fairly unremarkable and quite slow quest that doesn't do that much with the setting and period. The way it all played out felt weirdly contrived and yet also insubstantial (this book ends rather unresolved, even for the first book of a trilogy). I think the romance was due to be the heart of this, but it is unfortunately not for me: while they end up in a good place, the romance starts so unpleasantly that I couldn't get invested, and the sex scenes feel like the feature passages of the book, which would be fine in an out-and-out romance (and for a reader more inclined towards them than me), but is a strange juxtaposition to everything else. The nail in the coffin is the ideological feel, as all the main characters are rich and privileged with minimal critique (in fact, there is a case to be made that the plot quietly supports power staying in the "right hands"). This is just not a book for me, but not because the concept was bad - truly a case where the execution took it further and further away from my own wants and expectations - maybe the f/f sequel will be more my speed, but I am definitely concerned.
4/10 in personal rating system
Tread of Angels by Rebecca Roanhorse
dark
emotional
reflective
tense
fast-paced
4.25
TL;DR: Sharp and incisive fantasy novella as much about our own corrupt world as this fantastical one
(eARC provided by Edelweiss)
Tread of Angels is a swift little work that nonetheless leaves quite an impact. The angel/devil Western setting would've been fun enough, but I appreciate how this book goes further to home in on issues in justice and race relations. It is cutting and does not pull its punches with some brave directions to take the plot. I generally thought it was paced well, although the ending was perhaps a bit too quick, with a lot to process in a short span. There were also a few beats that didn't work for me as much as others, and how the world actually works is not especially clear. But I loved that this novella made some real bold choices in a relatively constrained and very readable plot.
8/10 in personal rating system
(eARC provided by Edelweiss)
Tread of Angels is a swift little work that nonetheless leaves quite an impact. The angel/devil Western setting would've been fun enough, but I appreciate how this book goes further to home in on issues in justice and race relations. It is cutting and does not pull its punches with some brave directions to take the plot. I generally thought it was paced well, although the ending was perhaps a bit too quick, with a lot to process in a short span. There were also a few beats that didn't work for me as much as others, and how the world actually works is not especially clear. But I loved that this novella made some real bold choices in a relatively constrained and very readable plot.
8/10 in personal rating system