just_one_more_paige's reviews
1504 reviews

The Ministry of Time by Kaliane Bradley

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adventurous emotional mysterious reflective tense medium-paced
  • Plot- or character-driven? A mix
  • Strong character development? Yes
  • Loveable characters? Yes
  • Diverse cast of characters? Yes
  • Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated

4.0

 
This one made a lot of (early) end-of-year lists, and was recommended to me by a coworker, and (above all) just looked really up my alley. Science fiction and romance and spy thriller and workplace comedy all mashed together?! Yes, please. I am always here for a genre-bending read. 
 
In London, in the near future, a government worker gets a top secret job. She'll be working as a "bridge," essentially a guide/caseworker for an "expat" newly arrived from a historical time. Time travel has just been...found...and the Ministry of Time is trying to figure out whether it's actually possible (both physically, for the body, and metaphysically, for the fabric of space-time). Our (unnamed) narrator's assignee is Graham Gore, brought to the future from 1847, one of the members of Sir John Franklin's ill-fated (everyone died, of starvation and exposure, and there was probably cannibalism involved) 1845 Arctic exploration team. As the two spend all their time together, with Graham adjusting to all aspects of modern life (household appliances, streaming music, world wars, etc.), our MC finds herself falling for his self-assured and suave ways. And they both make friends with the cast of (mostly) charming and uniquely-voiced fellow "expats" and their bridges. When the full scope of the Ministry's time travel project/plans start coming to light, our MC, Graham, and the other expats/bridges find their lives in danger, with threats of moles, spies and conspiracies coming at them from (from within the Ministry) across time. 
 
This definitely delivered on the genre mix-match in the blurb. The time travel aspects were some hardcore scifi...to the extent that as a few points, I did my normal "zone out and just go with it" on the details because I was super into the plot but didn't care as much about the specifics of how it was working. Personal preference. But do know that, if you are someone that does care about those details, you may have to pay some very real attention. The romance piece was slowwwwww burn and I was here for it. Such a fantastic build in connection, the heat was hot, and, when the betrayal hit as part of the plot (spoiler-ish, but also the foreshadowing throughout was strong, so it's not really a surprise), it was just right. PLus, an ending of promise and distant, but possible, hope. Yes, yes. The tension build and spy thriller pieces also had a slower build (which I was ready for, when it hit, but glad for the delay on, because it allowed for a great depth of character build prior to its introduction), and came on strong at the end. To be honest, this was perhaps the most uneven part. There were a few hints that were dropped or that the MC figured out, that were so vaguely addressed/explained, that I didn't quite catch them. It all came together in the end, but it was the weakest written part, IMO. 
 
I have a ton of other things I want to say. Because, despite some of the confusing/less clear things, I really liked this book. First of all, I was captivated by the narrative as the MC and Gore’s relationship grows. Even though nothing really happens, for a long time, it was so compelling. And I mean, I have read my fair share of time travel (like Kindred and Outlander), but this is such a theoretical/philosophical perspective of it. Really thoughtful. Relatedly, the insights into humanity, with some moral and scientific musings (reminiscent of Real Americans, a bit), and cultural and social critique added a lot of depth to the story, but all of it is delivered with a dryly humorous edge (like an older Victorian or classic lit vibe, Austen-esque, which also fits the vibes of the expat characters well). 
 
Speaking of the expats, the character development, relationally and internally, was just fantastic. Each expat's voice was so unique. There was such emotional depth across such a range of experiences. And the diversity of takes on the ways people might adjust across time, based on changes in gender and racial and sexuality equality and how it’s different nowadays than in previous eras, plus what jobs/roles they had and how those equate to existences in the present day (what skills/identities are useful/transferable and what makes people feel obsolete) was so fully explored. As far as the bridges, there was an interesting moral dilemma...as part of their job was to track and report on the expats, yet (especially with our narrator) the emotional connections (and hints about more nefarious purposes for the work) were in opposition to the job requirements. So, how do you navigate that? What’s for a person's safety and what is a transgression? Just really, character development was a hugeeee highlight for me. 
 
I also appreciated some of the heavier thematic pieces. This look at refugee reality, through a sci-fi out-of-time look, is so original, but still has the familiar, clear and present (but not overhanded) truth of the parallels with the geographical version of refugees as we understand them. Similarly, what a fascinating exploration of the interplay of racial understanding and political correctness now versus in history. I always appreciate when an author can take a step back from something so recognizable, everyday, "normal," as see/describe it as an outsider would. Bradley does so in a spellbinding way (the Austen-esque vibes of the social writing hit well here too). And, the questions: Do we hope/work for change for the future or despair? And what route do we take to achieve whichever end we want? They hit pretty hard at the end.       
 
Finally, I loved the focus on the small people, the relationships that history forgets or doesn’t care about, the way that their stories can be altered, be made better...because the larger story of history will not change even if they get their happier endings, because history is written by those with power, who will continue to not care about those individuals and their loves and lives. Those small people are us and we see ourselves in them. What a message, what feelings for the reader. 
 
Phew, this was some real mind bending conceptualization of time travel, wrapped in a spy thriller, slow burn romance, character development piece.  What scope. What an undertaking. I’m so impressed it was all that and a page-turner. 
 
“I’d sat with the term "internally displaced person" until I'd broken it down semantically. I was wrestling with a ghost meaning: a person whose interiority was at odds with their exteriority, who was internally (in themselves) displaced.” 
 
“One of the many hypotheses coagulating in these early days of time-travel was that language informed experience - that we did not simply describe but create our world through language..." 
 
“History is not a series of causes and effects which may be changed like switching trains on a track. It is a narrative agreement about what has happened and what is happening. [...] History is what we need to happen. You talk about changing history, but you're trying to change the future. It's an important semantic differentiation in this field.” 
 
“Ah, love, life’s greatest catastrophe.” 
 
“This was one of my first lessons in how you make the future: moment by moment, you seal the doors of possibility behind you.” 
 
“It was so hard not to treat the expats like blank slates onto which I might write my opinions. […] There was something hauntingly young about all of them, a scarcity of cultural context that felt teenaged, and I didn’t know if my fascination with it was maternal or predatory.” 
 
“Her reasons were bad, half-veiled. Then again, whose upper management am I not describing? Who trusts their workplace? Who thinks their job is on the side of right? They fed us all poison from a bottle marked “prestige,” and we developed a high tolerance for bitterness.” 
 
***“You can’t trauma-proof life, and you can’t hurt-proof your relationships. You have to accept you will cause harm to yourself and others. But you can also fuck up, really badly, and not learn anything from it except that you fucked up. It’s the same with oppression. You don’t gain any special knowledge from being marginalized. But you do gain something from stepping outside your hurt and examining the scaffolding of your oppression.” 
 
“People liked him and so they imagined that he agreed with them - all likable people know how to be a flattering mirror…” 
 
“What was it like growing up with that? […] I don’t know […] What was it like growing up without it?” (so much exploration of the concept of how can we possibly, ever, understand/conceptualize another’s experiences) 
 
“Everything that has ever been could have been prevented, and none of it was. The only thing you can mend is the future.” (I mean, hot damn, this is hitting so hard.) 
 
“…after all, the things that happen between lovers are lost to the work of history anyway.” 
 
“I had always thought of joy as a shouting…know what to do.” 
 
“When something changes you constitutionally, you say: ‘The earth moved.’ But the earth stays the same. It’s your relationship with the ground that shifts.” 
 
“I don’t mean to sound pessimistic. I only do because I can see how wrong my choices were. Don’t do it like this. Don’t enter believing yourself a node in a grand undertaking, that your past and your trauma will define your future, that individuals don’t matter. The most radical thing I ever did was love him, and I wasn’t even the first person in this story to do that. But you can get it right, if you try. You will have hope, and you have been forgiven. Forgiveness, which takes you back to the person you were and lets you reset them. Hope, which exists in a future in which you are new. Forgiveness and hope are miracles. They let you change your life. They are time-travel.” 
 

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Most Ardently: A Pride & Prejudice Remix by Gabe Cole Novoa

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emotional hopeful lighthearted fast-paced
  • Plot- or character-driven? A mix
  • Strong character development? Yes
  • Loveable characters? Yes
  • Diverse cast of characters? Yes
  • Flaws of characters a main focus? No

4.0

 
Ahhhhh, Pride & Prejudice. My ultimate and always comfort story. I will always be down for a retelling (especially a queer one, especially one that pulls such a monumental quote for the title). Also, a word: #team2005 movie version. 
 
No need to give a summary of the story. If you don't know it already...that's on you. Lol. But in this case, our retelling has a wonderful and heartwarming trans spin. Oliver Bennet is our MC, the second oldest Bennet sibling, and yet to come out to anyone other than his older sister, Jane (ever the sweetest and most understanding Bennet family member) and bestie, Charlotte (who has a queer secret of her own). Oliver and Darcy's first interactions are, as expected, less than stellar (not at all helped by the fact that Oliver was dressed up as Elizabeth, since it was a public event and that's who most people think he is). But when Oliver runs into Darcy out and dressed as himself, the two seem to really get along. And Oliver finds himself daydreaming about getting to know Darcy more. As the suitors coming to the Bennet's get more numerous (and bolder, and even threatening - that Wickham is even more horrible here than in the original) and Oliver spends more time as himself, he realizes that the time is coming when he'll have to tell everyone who he really is or find himself trapped and living his entire life as someone he isn't.    
 
Y'all, this retelling was just wonderful. The parallels to the original, with the “remix” additions/changes, are balanced well. It’s honestly a very true to origins retelling, and every aspect that is new or adjusted for Oliver is so smoothly shifted (including the queer shifts around that, particularly Charlotte and Darcy). One of my favorite things was the general lining up of the characters here, and their personalities in the original, to how accepting they are of Oliver's identity. For example, Jane and Mr. Bennet, as the closest to Elizabeth in Austen's version, are the first to "see" Oliver, and most vehemently/lovingly supportive of him. (As I am a simp for good sibling relationships, the way Jane supports Oliver had my heart in a chokehold.) Lydia, Kitty and Mary remain mostly unaware of anything. Wickham, ever the terrible human, was obviously still terrible. The sneaky blackmail situation he tries is a great twist on what he pulls in the original, and actually is even icker, really just pure evil, here. That he pulls Collins into it is absolutely not a surprise; he's easily preyed on because he has no backbone of his own, and that fits him as well. Finally, Mrs. Bennet. I have always been a bit annoyed by her character, sensical though her personality is under the circumstances. And I was both curious and worried about how things would play out when Oliver comes out to her. Small spoiler incoming... While it's fully the most hopeful possible outcome (which is how the orginal goes too, so, that fits as well), it also really made sense to me. True to form, her children marrying and being settled/cared for was her primary concern, and she would do anything/use any connections/ approve any matches that made that possible. That that showed itself as full love and acceptance of Oliver in the end is so much the better. What a heartwarming finale. 
 
Tangential to the retelling itself, I was appreciative of the author's note at the end, in which Novoa speaks, a bit, to the historical reality of trans and queer people in regency England (as far as we know/can tell). He talks a bit about how that informed his writing of the queer aspects of this novel, and where some of his writing veered more into speculation and guesswork on that front. With the non-existence of birth certificates and paperwork the way we know them now, less widely available “scientific” knowledge, a different social outlook, and probably other factors as well, the exercise of considering how many trans people may simply have passed and we never knew/never will know, with a similar consideration for queerness hidden by external “straight” relationships (but existing - strongly - under the surface), is uplifting in an unexpected way. Of course, this only works for people and relationships able to pass, but it definitely had me interested and makes me want to read more about it. 
 
All in all, this was just a really tender and hopeful retelling, with the exact balance of homage to the original and new twists of its own. I loved it. 
 
 “It was a special thing, to have one’s reflection in harmony with who they were.” 
 
“He wanted an openness with someone without fear, without worry. He wanted that ease, but it all seemed impossible.” 
 
“Whisper-thin space between them, under the moon and the stars, infinite possibilities laid out ahead of them.” 
 
“No one wants to deny themselves happiness, Oliver […] But many of us have to choose a middle ground if we hope to survive.” 
 
“He wished it could be like this all the time. More than anything else, this was what he wanted. To be himself, in the open, unabashedly. It could be so easy, but the world made it so difficult.” 

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The Mango Tree: A Memoir of Fruit, Florida, and Felony by Annabelle Tometich

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emotional funny reflective medium-paced

4.0

 
In a random coincidence of events, this was an ALC from libro.fm not long ago that I went for, because it looked interesting. And then, as I was browsing a used bookstore not a few weeks later, there it was, on the shelf! That seemed like a sign from the universe that I should read it. So, I bought it, and here I am. 
 
The Mango Tree is a memoir of, as the subtitle indicates, of fruit, Florida, and a felony. Though, while the book opens and closes with the felony aspect, the majority of it really is about the author's life in Florida, growing up as the daughter of a Filipina mother - an immigrant to the US as a young adult - and (for nine years) a white father who was a bit of an uneven presence in her life. And, of course, the fruit: her mentally unwell mother's pride and passion, as a connection to a homeland she left behind. Tometich was moved to write this memoir after receiving a call that her mother was in jail, for shooting at someone (with a BB gun), who was trying to steal mangoes off her prized mango tree (which, incidentally, was located on the front lawn of her yard...private property). In this book, Tometich walks the reader though how we got to that moment, starting with her parent's histories and families, spending quite a bit of time reflecting and remembering her own tumultuous childhood alongside her younger siblings (including trips to visit family in the Philippines and her mother's attempts over the years to bring her family to join them in the US), and then transitions quickly through her college and young adult years (as she is able to leave her childhood home and find her way to becoming her own person, free of her mother's volatility) and finishing with a sort of full circle moment, as her mother completes her probation and Tometich is able to visit the Philippines with her again, this time with her own children. 
 
This ended up being a really interesting memoir, for me. Tometich's writing is clear, precise, and so personable. I just felt really comfortable, almost like she was telling me the stories herself, in conversation, as I was reading. In particular, the way she writes the “normal”/nothing special things of growing up (universal experiences of family deaths, intra-family dramas, new homes and making friends and school, cultural traditions…and even the, hopefully less universal but probably more common than we’d like ones, like domestic abuse, child neglect-abuse and racist grandparents) and makes it fascinating to see the inner workings. The way that each family is the same and unique simultaneously is communicated so well in this memoir. Relatedly, her view of herself as a “nothing” person/family, and still finding in that a story worth telling/sharing in this way, is unexpectedly inspiring.     
 
I was really impressed with the detailed level of the memories Tometich retains from childhood. They are so coherent and authentic in the small things and snagged/replay aspects, like number significance and counting and syllables. I am always so curious about how memory works like that, because I think that if I were to try to remember that much specificity from my own childhood, I wouldn't be able to. It makes me feel like I've lost so much. But I appreciate being able to experience others' details in this way. 
 
A major theme, throughout, was the progression of Tometich's mother's mental health spirals, from when she and her siblings were too young to get her help through their whole lives, as she remains  unready to accept or be open to any hlep they could give. It's a difficult cycle to watch, as their relationship/communication ebbs and flows along with her mother's mental health. In the final sections of the memoir, Tometich gets much more reflective and philosophical. This affects the pacing, as far as skipping chunks of "not as relevant" time passing, as opposed to the more basic memory sharing/story telling of the earlier sections, which set up all the background experiences we need to know, in order to understand the coming of age realizations. And it also plays out in those coming of age realizations themselves. Specifically, we watch Tometich looking back as an adult, recognizing and acknowledging the cyclical patterns of trauma/violence and abuse/temper/family roles and responsibilities, that she (and her mother before her) had lived through. It was a thoughtful circling back within a well-developed framework. 
 
In fact, the entire transformation Tometich goes on as she "grows up," and chooses to share with the reader, is a lovely literary lexical and introspective journey. From her beginnings as a "nobody" and growth into "somebody" (not alone, following her own goals), and further her transition into anybody and everybody (as the anonymous restaurant critic) was striking. It really hits, in a very relatable and yet fully individual, way. And alongside her evolution of views on "normality," makes for a very striking memoir.  
 
 
“We siblings are not three points on a line. We are three far-flung points in a giant triangle. If you squish the situation just right, sometimes two of us will come together. But getting all three of us aligned has proved impossible.” 
 
“They made me realize the fallacy of normality. That abnormal is the norm, and it's something to be treasured. Our abnormalities don't have to define us, but they do shape us. They rough up our edges and give us texture.” 
 
“As a kid raising kids, is it your fault if they fuck up? [...] How do you stop these cycles from repeating?” 
 
“…maybe it’s that we as daughters, as children, tend to flatten our parents, compressing them into the characters we need them to be. We reduce them to the sidekicks, the villains, the kooky court jesters of our life stories. In some cases, we do this because we have to. Because parents are capable of serious soul-crushing harm, and we must minimize that to survive. But in doing so, we forget they have life stories of their own. They have reasons for their actions. Not always justifiable ones, but ones that should at least be considered.” 
 
“Perhaps the US brings out the worst in my mom because that’s the only way she knows how to be taken seriously in this country.” 
 
“I’ve been so afraid of becoming my mother, I’ve failed to recognize  her many strengths.” 

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Things We Didn't Talk About When I Was a Girl by Jeannie Vanasco

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challenging emotional reflective medium-paced

5.0

 
I’ve had my eye on this one for a while – thanks to @allisonreadsdc for originally putting it on my radar. And I’ve passed by it a number of times on the shelf at work without checking it out. But I don’t know…just recently, the time felt right. 
 
In this memoir, Vanasco recalls being sexually assaulted – raped, as she gets used to calling it through these pages – by a close friend in college. While comparing it to a number of other instances in which she was sexually harassed, assaulted, and raped over her lifetime (which, take a moment to just sit with how horrible it is that that’s a reality that she just has had to…live with), this one stands out to her. In this case, she felt that the friendship she had with her rapist, prior to that incident, was affecting the way she saw it, affecting her ability to really be angry about it (like she felt like she should be, like she was about the other times), and she wondered if they were, in fact, the friends she thought they were, if he was able to do something like that to her. So, she decides to reach out to him, to ask, to see if his recollections of their relationship match hers, to see what reasons/excuses he has for his actions. After years of no communication, she reaches out to ask him if he’s ok being interviewed for this memoir. And she records it all, along with her process and reactions, in this book.  
 
Let me just start by saying, this was an absolutely stunning reading experience. First, the writing. Vanasco opens and closes with her own memories, process and how she arrived at deciding to write this, and how she imagines things going. Then, she produces exact transcriptions of her phone conversations and in-person meetings with her rapist (pseudonym: Mark), with breaks throughout for her to add in her reflections/remembrances/responses and conversations with friends and mentors about the process and transcriptions, etc. Those sections are written in a sort of a unique poetic prose, with shades of a novel written in verse, but not quite to that extent. The style allows for a cutting to the core of things - the jumbled, scattered, conflicting feelings and reactions - in a way that feels real and to the point, cutting out unnecessary words and transitions. It makes every line hit that much harder. And it was already a hard-hitting read. There so many passages and reflections that I highlighted and noted…you’ll get a taste for it throughout the review and at the end, when my “pull quotes” section hits and there are many examples. Just, phew.  
 
As far as my personal thoughts and reactions while reading…they were legion. I took many breaks while reading to process and take notes on that. It was a really intense and reflective reading experience for me. I want to keep them all together here, for posterity and revisiting, so I am going to just reproduce them all here in a list format. If you are interested, please keep reading! If you aren’t…skip to the end and just know that I really recommend reading this yourself. 
 
-          There were so many key insights into what makes a telling of sexual assault/rape. Vanasco wants to make it unique and believable and worth telling, but she also questions – profoundly – why it’s necessary to meet all those expectations in the first place. Who gets to tell the story and who decides that and to what effect is it told? 
-          The way that Vanasco explores how language and perspective matter is really insightful. She speaks about sexual assault or, as definitions change, a rape…and how regardless of the definitions and language used, the act, and its after affects, remain the same. But she is somehow not confident calling her sexual assault a rape, in this case. That difficulty is refreshing in its openness and self-examination, and comforting in its recognizability (which I’m as uncomfortable admitting as she clearly was to communicate it to begin with). 
-          “We need to hear stories about guys who aren’t be try powerful.” I mean…what a message! Sexual assault is clearly happening at rates high enough that many ‘regular’ people (mostly guys) are perpetrators, but with the airtime celebrities get when their stories come out, are we conditioned to not bother about the regular guys? And are they getting away with more because of it? 
-          “What stories do the men tell themselves?”  This is a perspective we have never really gotten (What rapist/abuser would write a memoir of this on their own?). It’s breaking silences I didn’t even realize were there in a way that is so emotionally complex and reflective and, while perhaps without answers, still quite enlightening. 
-          I am found the power dynamics introspection fascinating. I can’t get over it – when Mark had the power, he used it and assaulted Vanasco. Now that she has the power, she’s trying so hard not to abuse it (and is almost angrier at herself about not using it more, about how careful she’s being about his feelings, than she is at him for abusing it in the first place). And yet, she continues softly anyways – an observation, not a criticism, that was fascinating. 
-          The aspect of friendships with other women that come to the forefront, as Vanasco processes the writing of this memoir with them, is a surprise theme that is so tender and really filled me up. 
-          Vanasco’s empathy being sparked by her need to prove that their friendship meant something, and his showing remorse, makes it harder to be angry at Mark than a developmentally flat “big bad” guy. But does that history of friendship and/or having remorse make it more ok for him to get away with what he did? 
-          The way thinking about this one event of rape opens the memory to so many more violations of a sexual nature, “larger” and “smaller,” suffered and survived and forgotten as a matter of course over the years (for self-preservation or due to of the sheer number of and impossibility of remembering them all) is absolutely infuriating. 
-          The repetitiveness of their conversations is interesting. Is that due to tiptoeing around the sensitivity and guilt and embarrassment of the topic or part of the nature of qualitative/interview based research? Or both? 
-          “It’s so much work to come forward. And yet a lot of people blame the victims for not reporting sexual assault, as if it’s entirely their responsibility to rid the world of rapists.” / “We end up identifying with the aggressor. We’ll get angry with the victims because she’s not doing the work of coming forward.” And that includes like, not telling the rapist’s family/friends, so they ‘get away’ clean. But when the only option to avoid that is to do so much work on your own end, after being the victim in the first place…like, of course its underreported and no one wants to deal with that. Also, a great simile about it being the same as when someone has to do all the work to recover from an injury caused by a wreck that was someone else’s fault. Even going after that person for damages doesn’t change how much healing work the victim must do.  
 
I cannot put my finger on how, exactly, but this reminds me of Febos’ writing in Girlhood a bit. Or, at least, the reading experience – a deeply resonant and impactful one – was very similar for me. I’d recommend them as comp reads. It’s captivating, the complexities and nuances and contradictions and perspectives that Vanasco delves into. Her growth, but unresolved “end,” of this memoir is perfectly authentic. Overall, this is an incredibly emotional reading experience. More women than not will find a level of relatability in these pages, yet it is simultaneously specifically one person’s complicated journey. And just…wow. What a stirring book. 
 
“I want this to be artful, but the artistry can’t interfere with the honesty. I’m not sure how to do this, but I want to know how to do this.” 
 
“Sometimes I question whether my feelings are too big for the crime. […] …but I want to be honest here - because I doubt I’m the only woman sexually assaulted by a friend and confused about her feelings.” 
 
“Don’t let them twist what you know is true.” 
 
“I treated men how I treated literature: I feared misinterpreting their intentions.” 
 
“The best I can figure: duplicity, intentional or not, is part of the human experience.” 
 
“I want him to become beside the point. I want him in the past. I want the reader to reappropriate her own narrative. I want her to stop listening to him and recognize that in giving him so much voice, it's a reenactment, in a way, of the rape. Where he talks more than she does.” 
 
“He smiles, and I see where a friend once was.” 
 
 “That it’s easier for the guilty person to move on, or at least to pretend it didn’t happen. It’s harder for the innocent person.” 
 
“But that’s why I’m interested in the project. Because I can’t work out my feelings.” 

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The Truth According to Ember by Danica Nava

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emotional funny hopeful lighthearted medium-paced
  • Plot- or character-driven? A mix
  • Strong character development? It's complicated
  • Loveable characters? Yes
  • Diverse cast of characters? Yes
  • Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated

3.0

 
I always have a romance or two on hand for traveling - they are just great for escapist reading that also doesn't take a lot of concentration (perfect for plane rides and airports and quick pick-up/put-down situations). This was my most recent choice for that exact situation, courtesy of NetGalley. 
 
Ember has been turned down from a lot of jobs, so...she decides to get a little creative with her experience and race/ethnicity. And it works - she lands a perfect job. But after a meet cute with the hot IT guy, Danuwoa, she realizes that maintaining those "lies," while also trying to develop a real relationship, is a bit fraught. And then...between a coworker catching the two in a compromising position and using that to blackmail Ember, family problems (her troublesome brother is back and just can't seem to get his life together), and trying to figure out how to compromise her own life/personal goals with some of the "untruth" pickles she's gotten herself into, things are really about to come to a head for Ember. Can she handle all that and manage to save her relationship with Danuwoa (the one very true thing she's got right now)? 
 
Ok, let me just get this out of the way first. If I'm being honest, lying as a plot point stresses me. Like, a lot. To the point where I usually steer clear of it. However, I had seen good reviews and wanted to give this a go. So, it's a tough sell for me from that start, just to set expectations here at the beginning. That being said, the stress of this plot, the corporate blackmail and lying, truly is soooo stressful. And it's not just the external stuff. The author parallels it (nicely, as far as writing and character development), with Ember lying to herself too. It applies to her interactions with both her brother and what the actuality is of the feelings between her and Danuwoa. And it extends, deeply, into her work thinking too. She keeps saying “just this one more thing and it’ll go away” to herself and I just...how does she not see that eventually she’s crossed so many work legal/ethic lines that being fired for dating a coworker would actually be the better outcome?? Like some of the stuff she's doing has legit legal consequences, not just a workplace HR issue. I know she felt like she was between a rock and a hard place, but it was just difficult to swallow. On that note, I just don’t love the extremity of her “I don’t need to ask for help” - not just in her, but really in any characters that have this trait to an extreme - because there were multiple people she could have gone to for help, not even all with power imbalances to overcome either, and she chose to just dig herself deeper and hope it would go away. Overall, not my favorite type of character. 
 
And yet...I didn't dislike Ember herself. I actually found her "hot and cold" on Danuwoa, her (low key deserved) grudge holding her back from forgiving her brother, the general direction and situation of her life/job, etc. was all super relatable. She’s prickly and unsure, but her heart is in the right place and her frustrations are all based in very real unfair life situations, and that’s so real. Ember's entire storyline was a really unique coming of age. One that highlights taking life one step at a time, making (and being proud of) achievable goals, and remembering you have a community around you (even if that hurts/has tough memories sometimes too), so you don’t have to do everything alone. It's accessible and, again, super relatable, in a way that not all romcom leads' stories are. For real, the 'learning to ask for help' piece alone was really impactful, and an important lesson for many to learn. I thought her general arc was fantastic. On the other hand, our male MC, Danuwoa, was a bit flat. Maybe too easy? He's a cinnamon roll, which I love, but he could have used maybe just a bit more depth? There wasn't anything wrong, necessarily, I just felt like, for how good Ember's character development was (and really, her brother Sage's as well), his was lacking something.  
 
Last couple thoughts. There was an absolutely hilarious poking at corporate and professional culture BS. Like, how degrees and connections are required for basic level jobs that with reasonable training, literally anyone can competently do (even without the degrees and definitely without the connections). Lolz. Also, the authors note at the end is stunning. Seeing where Nava pulled from her own experiences to craft this story, and seeing where the fire and heart and fight for a happy ending that Ember had was crafted out of, adds such power to the messages in the narrative you just finished. The messages were already strong and necessary, so the added emphasis and strength was extra in the best, intense, way. 
 
I'm coming away from this a fan of Nava's writing and definitely interested in more! While some tropes/plot devices weren't my personal favorite, the effect of the whole overcame that (which possibly makes it even more impressive).   
 
"I was just Ember Lee Cardinal, a sometimes liar, but mostly an overall good person." 
 
"I wanted to feel bad about the lying, but really, I was more worried about getting caught in the lies. It was hard to feel bad about gaming a system that was designed to put people like me down." 
 
"That was the problem with hope. It created expectations, and when they weren't met, you were left feeling crushed." 
 
"That's the way it was for women. We had to suck it up and accept misogyny and sexism so we could get through our business." 
 
"I want you to have all my ugly truths." 

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She Who Became the Sun by Shelley Parker-Chan

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adventurous dark reflective slow-paced
  • Plot- or character-driven? A mix
  • Strong character development? Yes
  • Loveable characters? It's complicated
  • Diverse cast of characters? Yes
  • Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated

4.0

 
This duology - a queer magical historical fantasy compared to Mulan - is one I've absolutely had on my TBR for awhile now. You know I can basically recite that movie word for word. Classic. Plus, since its publication, it has won, or been a finalist for, so many awards. And its moment, for me, is now. 
 
Blurb supplied by Goodreads: " In a famine-stricken village on a dusty yellow plain, two children are given two fates. A boy, greatness. A girl, nothingness…  In 1345, China lies under harsh Mongol rule. For the starving peasants of the Central Plains, greatness is something found only in stories. When the Zhu family’s eighth-born son, Zhu Chongba, is given a fate of greatness, everyone is mystified as to how it will come to pass. The fate of nothingness received by the family’s clever and capable second daughter, on the other hand, is only as expected. When a bandit attack orphans the two children, though, it is Zhu Chongba who succumbs to despair and dies. Desperate to escape her own fated death, the girl uses her brother's identity to enter a monastery as a young male novice. There, propelled by her burning desire to survive, Zhu learns she is capable of doing whatever it takes, no matter how callous, to stay hidden from her fate. After her sanctuary is destroyed for supporting the rebellion against Mongol rule, Zhu takes the chance to claim another future her brother's abandoned greatness." 
 
Well, this was absolutely as epic and superbly wrought as promised. The writing is expert level. The details are so, so good. In particular, the descriptions of the small things, which are the things that really make a realistic rendition of a setting/situation, are phenomenally observed and conveyed. And the politics are incredibly complex. Like, damn. It's clear in every moment how much care Parker-Chan put into the crafting of this story. I mean, the depth of research it must have taken to have this level of conception of the rise to power of the Ming Dynasty's founding emperor, and the preceding struggle against the Mongol empire...extraordinary. And even more so because Parker-Chan is not only able to tell this tale convincingly, rivetingly, with pacing that is a solid pacing balance of slower intrigue/character build (it does lean towards this aspect a bit, heads up) and moments of shock and action (there is definitely no holding back on the violence of war and the violations that come from abuses of power/trying to access power...brutal and brutally accurate). But they also do so while deftly adding magical and gender-bending aspects of this retelling, without a single perceivable loss of grounding in the "truth" of the history. 
 
The other major thing I want to note in this review is the finely tuned way in which Parker-Chan writes about Zhu's experiences with gender. And the way, in the development of their characters, Ouyang plays a counter perspective/experience of gender and its performance. Zhu uses her gender to her advantage, the authority/respect given to someone outwardly a man, and the internal experience of womanhood to connect with allies that need a different touch. She wields both without mercy, and finds power in the fluidity of that. A power that slowly starts to also include a sense of greater comfort, personally, as she has some time/space to explore and come to terms with her own body and her own relationship with it (helped greatly, it should be added, by having one external person who accepts/knows her fully). I loved every bit of it, especially when, by having this equanimity about her identity, she is able to overcome what, in another body's experience, would have been...its end. Oh, and I also loved the way Zhu's presentation as a man, and the power/opportunity that gave her, that a (externally) woman could never achieve, combined with her ability to "tap into a woman’s desires," as it were, allowed her to create the space for other women to recognize what they really wanted, and to reach for that, and become more. And isn’t that SUCH a meaningful example of what male allyship *could* look like, IRL, with just a *little* effort?! Anyways, it's all written with deep emotion, in the uncertainty of it and in the joy...deep in the way that feels personal, and I can only assume reflects, at least in parts, the author's own emotional journey with gender. On the other hand we have Ouyang. Absolutely mired in shame and self-disgust because a societally important aspect of his own gender has been taken from him, and that affects so much of his existence, from his internal understanding of himself to his external treatment. What a juxtaposition. What an exploration of what makes a person who/how they are. Literary excellence.       
 
Just, an incredible first installation of an epic historical (retelling) fantasy, intertwined with a profound coming of age and identity. 
 
“The body became used to exercise, particular sounds and sensations, or even physical pain. But it was strange how shame was something you never became inured to: each time hurt just as much as the first.” 
 
“What someone is means nothing about what kind of person they are. Truth is in actions.” 
 
“But if everything in your life was as preordained as your fate, what point was there in wanting?” 
 
“I thought monks teach that desire is the cause of all suffering. / It is. [...] But you know what's worse than suffering? Not suffering, because you're not alive to feel it.” 
 
“…he had always believed revenge would change something. It was only in having done it that he understood that what had been lost was still lost forever...” 
 
“Not-wanting is a desire too; it yields suffering just as much as wanting.” 
 
“…she saw someone who seemed neither male nor female, but another substance entirely: something wholly and powerfully of its own kind. The promise of difference, made real. With a sensation of vertiginous terror, Ma felt the rigid pattern of her future falling away, until all that was left was the blankness of pure possibility. [...] She was yielding to it, being consumed by it, and it was the most beautiful and frightening thing she'd ever felt. She wanted. She wanted everything Zhu was offering with that promise of difference. Freedom, and desire, and her life to make her own. And if the price of all of that was suffering, why did it matter when she would suffer no matter what she chose?” 
 
“There was no regaining the past.” 

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The Lightning Bottles by Marissa Stapley

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dark emotional mysterious medium-paced
  • Plot- or character-driven? A mix
  • Strong character development? Yes
  • Loveable characters? It's complicated
  • Diverse cast of characters? No
  • Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated

5.0

 
I've had great experiences with music themed book previously (The Final Revival of Opal & Nev and Daisy Jones and The Six, as examples), so I was inclined to give this one a go based on that history and the book blurb alone. But after reading the letter from Stapley about why she wanted to write this novel, the yearning to show artist-activists as real people, getting to own their own story instead of it being thrust upon them, and a strong hint of millennial alt/angry female musical nostalgia (like, is that cover not perfect for the promised vibe), I was ALL IN.  
 
I'm still so, so behind on reviews, and there's a lot to pack into a blurb for this novel, so I'm leaning on Goodreads again: "Jane Pyre was once one half of one of the most famous rock ‘n’ roll duos in the world, The Lightning Bottles. Years later, she’s perhaps the most hated (and least understood) woman in music. She was never as popular with fans as her bandmate (and soulmate) Elijah—even if Jane was the one who wrote the songs that catapulted The Lightning Bottles to instant, dizzying fame, first in the Seattle grunge scene, and then around the world. But then Elijah disappeared and everything came crashing down. Even now, years after Elijah vanished, Jane is universally blamed and reviled by the public. In an attempt to get some peace and quiet, Jane rents a house in a remote part of Germany where she knows she won’t be disturbed. But on the day she arrives, she’s confronted by her new next-door neighbor, a sullen teenaged girl named Hen who just so happens to be a Lightning Bottles superfan—and who claims to have a piece of information that might solve the mystery of what happened to Elijah, and whether he is, in fact, still alive and leaving messages for Jane after all these years. A cross-continent road trip about two misunderstood outsiders brought together by their shared love of music, interwoven with flashbacks to the beginnings of Jane and Elijah’s love story and meteoric rise, The Lightning Bottles is a love story, a celebration of rock ‘n’ roll, and a searing portrait of the cost of fame." 
 
The first note I made after I started reading, and it remained true AF throughout, was "my god this is a nostalgia dump for alt millennials and I am loving every second." I was so emotionally IN for this entire reading experience. I was hooked; it got me. There’s romance and mystery and music and a yearning that is so intense and on point that honestly it’s like that’s what Stapley captured in the titular bottles, instead of lighting.  
 
Let's talk about what I loved. Each character was so humanly flawed, many of them difficult and prickly in their own ways. Really impressive, gritty writing on the ugly/dramatic sides of music and fame, and its effects on/interpretations by the characters, but never to a point that felt gratuitous. They were so real that I sometimes felt like, if I googled them, the exploits would pop up in real articles/blogs. Of course, there were many not at all subtle nods to IRL musicians and the stories/tabloids about them. It could easily have felt like it was tooeasy. BUT, that’s what was promised and why it was written (in the note from Stapley herself): to tell the side of these familiar stories that we don’t see(or don't want to see). To that end, this reclaiming of female punk artists' personas was especially impactful. This is something that has long (always?) been defined by the male musicians around them and/or the harshness of public opinion (that is, of course, more powerfully assuming/condescending/ignoring of and towards women). To see some of the characters in this book, Jane in particular, deal with that, and work towards a reclamation for themselves, on their own terms - rising out of the tragedies/anguish that defined their reputations and legacies - its' something I’d truly wish for them all, in real life. I know why, and see what, Stapley wanted to write with this book. And hats off to her for it. 
 
In looking at Jane and Elijah together, their romance is one that touched my heart. It started out of such a sweet and pure connection, and grew gorgeously in that. It was so hard to read how fame and life in the judgemental public eye broke a relationship that had so much promise. And of course, the seeds of "unhealthy" were definitely there already (in such a realistic way - really well written development of that), but fame as a catalyst for its disintegration was clear. But then, while the steps taken to this end were dramatic, there was also so much internal investment in the success of the relationship in the long run, that each did what they felt they must to reach a healthier future. Re: the press, though. This was just a really phenomenal look at how media makes a person a character, not real in the eyes of an audience, and even when confronted with direct evidence to the contrary, people believe what they want, to the detriment (often) of the “character” they believe it about. Like, even when Elijah tried so hard to be more equal, to tell the truth, that only made things worse. The public had already judged and would not be dissuaded. Heartbreaking. Similarly heartbreaking: how we had to watch the unfolding juxtaposition of people getting into this [rock 'n' roll]  life for the love of music/art (and, sure, in some cases, an interest in fame) with the price of fame, as it overtakes everything until that original love of music is no longer what is used to be, and definitely not what you dreamed/wanted it to be. 
 
The "road trip" piece of this story, the slightly weird but uniquely healing, relationship that formed between Jane and Hen was prickly and tender in a totally different way. Sort of unorthodox, but more compelling for it. What they did for each other's growth was unexpected and so soft, for all its hard edges, as they each learned some vulnerability and opening. They were the highlight of the variety of coming of ages that happened throughout the novel. The plot was straightforward, but I did think that the scavenger hunt was a fun twist to frame the story with. And it allowed for a gorgeous way to promise and hope for and provide a happy ending in the way one always wants, but in stories like this (IRL), doesn’t usually get. 
 
This novel may not have been perfect. And maybe there was a bit of generational, scene-based, fan service. But that's why I picked it up. And Stapley delivered. And the promise in the ending, while maybe not totally realistic, is full of the hope I want to have. So. I'm not at all mad about it. Color this (unexpectedly, and niche though it may be), a dark horse, low key favorite of mine for the year.   
 
 
"Some great songs make it feel like a spell is being cast..." 
 
"Can songs be magic spells, or curses, or both? If I've ever felt rapture in my life, or like a miracle could be possible, it didn't happen in a church, it happened in my room, when I was hiding under my duvet, listening to a new song on my Walkman or the radio." 
 
"She didn't come from somewhere that was all bad, it just hadn't been the right place for her. She could come back someday, and she'd be a different person." 
 
"What good is lightning if all you do is keep it in a bottle?" / "He is the lightning, but you are the bottle." 
 
"She could feel it like a tattoo. Bitch. So damning. It could become a brand so easily. All you had to do was defend yourself, hold back a smile, not laugh at the right joke." 
 
"Now you really are immortal. Isn't that the very point of art? You will be gone, and this will be here - unless someone paints it over, but even then, there will always be traces, until this building is dust. Until the world is dust." 
 
"They're just characters to her. She just found out something distasteful about a man she has revered - but she is able to cast it aside and keep on believing the story she tells herself about him. The entire point of celebrity is for people to be able to project their hopes, their dreams, their fantasies, onto canvases. Their unrequited love, their rabid hatred. Celebrities aren't real people. Jane knows this, because she is one." 
 
"Fame is such a curse. it's the price that must be paid for doing something we love this much, but still. Sometimes that price feels a little too high, doesn't it?" 
 
"Isn't that the irony? Sometimes the best part of a dream is dreaming it." 
 
"...legends were just stories people made up to make the world seem better. More interesting and magical than it really was." 
 
"In the silence, she imagines two heartbeats in the room. They're afraid but certain, brave but terrified. They know that the shape of love has velvet-soft contours and piercing thorns, and that this is okay." 
 
"Nothing is forever. / Except us." 

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All Systems Red by Martha Wells

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adventurous funny lighthearted fast-paced
  • Plot- or character-driven? A mix
  • Strong character development? It's complicated
  • Loveable characters? Yes
  • Diverse cast of characters? Yes
  • Flaws of characters a main focus? No

4.0

 
“I don’t know what I want. I said that at some point, I think. But it isn’t that, it’s that I don’t want anyone to tell me what I want, or to make decisions for me.” 
 
This is one of those books/series that it seems like everyone has read, and loved, and most of that everyone has recommended it to me. And I knew (now: know) that I would love it too. But I was just slow in picking it up. Because, reasons. But I packed it last-minute for a recent trip. (It's so small, I didn't even feel guilty about bringing another book. Lol) And once I picked it up. I powered right through it all on a single flight leg! 
 
On a faraway planet in the distant future, a team of scientists is conducting tests (What kind? Who knows? Who cares? ...not Murderbot.) Along on this mission is the titular Murderbot, a Company-supplied SecUnit, a droid, who has managed to hack its own governor module and is now self-aware (and gave itself the name “Murderbot,” thank you). Scornful of humans and their jobs and squabbles, all Murderbot wants to do is be left alone, watch its serials, and hopefully ride under the radar so no one figures out its "rogue."  However, when another mission on the other side of the planet goes dark, the scientists, and now apparently Murderbot (who likes this group better than most human groups, he supposes), to find the truth (and not die in the process). 
 
Well, everyone was right. This was an absolute joy to read. It was an escapist, fun sci-fi adventure that felt really fresh and totally entertaining. Also, the narrator was so original, snort-laugh levels of funny, and honestly very relatable in its reactions to being around humans.  
 
Some of the world-building is super quick, because of the novella length. And a few things, you just have to accept partially getting it and move forwards. Eventually, the details click into place enough to understand the greater story, and the parts that stay fuzzy don't matter enough to matter (if you know what I mean). This feels pretty classic "epic sci-fi" to me, so I’m used to that on a grander scale and it didn’t bother me. Plot-wise, things were basic (because they have to be, see the length) but action-packed and fast-paced and well-developed. 
 
Final comment: there was some hilarious low key commentary on the money-hungry operating procedures of large corporations. And that is something I can always get behind. 
 
Yup. A snarky and awkward narrator, a delightful plot, some classic sci-fi aspects, and a one-sitting escapist read (knowing it's a series and Murderbot's adventures can continue in more fun, episodic novellas to come). Yes, please.  

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A Sorceress Comes to Call by T. Kingfisher

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dark funny tense medium-paced
  • Plot- or character-driven? A mix
  • Strong character development? It's complicated
  • Loveable characters? It's complicated
  • Diverse cast of characters? No
  • Flaws of characters a main focus? No

4.0

 
Oh, y'all. Kingfisher is fast becoming a favorite author of mine (though through personal preference, I'm careful in selecting away from some of her heavier horror pieces). Anyways, I was very excited to see this Grimm's Goose Girl retelling pop up on my NetGalley homepage, and even more excited when my request was approved. 
 
Cordelia's mother is a sorceress. An evil one. One who refuses to let her have privacy, friends (other than their horse, Falada), and sometimes enchants, taking over her body and forcing her to obey. When her mother sets her sights on marrying the wealthy lord of a remote country manor, Cordelia is uprooted from the only life she's ever known. They're now living at said lord's house and Cordelia's life is opening up in ways she never expected. She's found friends (and a mentor) in the lord's unmarried sister, Hester, and her society friends. Hester can tell that something is off with Cordelia, the way she shrinks away from her mother. And Cordelia is realizing that she cares about these new people and doesn't want them to fall prey to her mother's scheming. Between them, they'll have to come up with a plan that saves them all from the sorceress' powers. 
 
Phew, Kingfisher is always crushing it with the very real-life-adjacent creepy factor. This “obedience” thing is the stuff of nightmares. Body controlled by someone else while your mind is still in there and knows it? No thank you. Along with that particular horrific feature, the magic aspects in general are all really well done. It's subtle magic, nothing big and flashy, and all sort of "understood" or in connection with the earth/nature, in ways that Kingfisher doesn't spend too much time explaining. If you prefer more explicit magic systems, just be aware of that. The only aspect that felt a little like it didn't fit, to me, was the part with the ghost (when she - no spoilers on who she is - starts speaking to Cordelia). It's definitely creepy, which fits the vibes, but I wasn't as sure if it fit the story.    
 
Plot-wise, there is really smart story building throughout. It’s small scale and simple, but so elegantly done. The tension build, as everyone starts to realize how much power Cordelia's mother actually has, and the horror she can bring (and does bring - phew, there is some real bloody violence in these pages), as they race against time (and without many resources) to stop her is fantastic. I felt it in my body while reading. And yet, Kingfisher balances that tension and horror with some fantastic general flippancy, impropriety, and irreverence (especially in Hester and Penelope and Imogene's characters - loveeeed them!). And the dialogue is sooooo dryly humorous, that it really softens the horror to perfection. 
 
Speaking of the dialogue. I must say more about it. The dialogue everywhere, between everyone (especially when Hester is involved…but also Alice, Evermore, Penelope Green), was all so good. It was packed with nuance and double meaning and wry humor. Magnificent. Also, the small details, like the consistency of Hester’s nagging knee pain, are done so well (often enough that they’re realistic, but never dragging down the narrative). Plus, ayyyyy I saw that reference to Nettle & Bone as they searched Evermore's library. Oh! And the title was perfect. Kingfisher is just a spectacular writer. 
 
A last note, about Cordelia and her mother (Evangeline). Cordelia’s actions, her responses to her mother...oooof, the abuse is terrible and heartbreaking and it is upsetting to read. Evangeline is a wayyyyyy toooo real a big bad. I do, though, wish we had more insight into Evangeline’s goals/purpose and mindset - her WHY - and background. It seemed flimsy? Perhaps a chance for a spinoff?! Regardless, I was *very* ready for the comeuppance piece of the story, and it was cathartic when we got it. A super good, creepy, fitting finale to the tale for Evangeline. And some softer, more tender, and well-deserved endings for everyone else involved as well. 
 
While there were a few small aspects that I would have wanted a little more from, overall this was a great read.  
 
"Like many men not overly encumbered by intelligence, he had a great deal of cunning in avoiding personal unpleasantness." 
 
"Such is the problem of beauty. Once it is imperfect, the admiration it has won you is at an end." 
 
"But you can never count on people to die just because it would make your life easier." 
 
"And suddenly she was calm. It was the calm of a burned-out house or a ravaged field, the calm that comes where there is no longer anything to lose. It was almost like being invincible." 
 
"Let him reflect on the reagent that is his: the salt that comes of earth, the water that is borne on the swift stream, and the wine that is made of growing grapes and the art of man. For salt bars the entry of the shadowed ones; water fills the space it is given and washed away that which is impure; and wine binds the space between the seen and unseen, even as it binds the bargains struck between men." 

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The New Camelot by Robyn Schneider

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adventurous emotional funny lighthearted medium-paced
  • Plot- or character-driven? A mix
  • Strong character development? Yes
  • Loveable characters? Yes
  • Diverse cast of characters? Yes
  • Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated

4.0

 
Y'all, I have been waitingggggg for this finale. This trilogy has been the hilarious queer magical YA King Aruthur retelling escapism of my dreams and I was so ready for this last book. 
 
The Goodreads blurb: "Everything is finally going right for Emry Merlin. Now that Arthur is the king and her wayward magic is under control, she’s enjoying life as Camelot’s official court wizard—and as Arthur’s girlfriend. But when an unexpected visitor arrives at court, Emry finds her hard-won position threatened. And Arthur is torn between listening to his advisors and following his heart. Even more troubling, war is on the horizon, with King Yurien’s access to dark magic ensuring Camelot’s doom. That is, unless Emry, Arthur, and Lance can find a way to defeat the evil sorceress Bellicent with magic from her own world. But undertaking a quest to Anwen is perilous business, and our young heroes will face many obstacles on their journey—from dangerous beasts to suspicious nobles to cursed maidens determined to find someone to marry.Can Emry and Arthur save their kingdom and fix their relationship, or will they have to choose between their future and Camelot’s?" 
 
Well, let me get the iffy thing out of the way first. If I'm being honest, the writing is pretty choppy, bouncing from scene to scene and chapter to chapter with less smoothness than in the last two. It's not bad writing, it's more like, bad cuts between scenes? Like there is so much to get into this final book that it's almost rushed. And there were lots of great elements! For real, there were maybe too many of them. I do feel like the flow started settling by about a third of the way in (or perhaps I just got accustomed to the choppiness by then). But the pacing remained just a little off throughout (in particular, the journey to Anwin in this one felt...slow, and maybe unnecessary, to me?). Overall, solid, but just lower quality writing and pacing than the previous. 
 
Character-wise, SChneider continued to crush it with this YA cast. Oh, the Arthur-Emry angst is so real! Guin is awesome (and really comes into her own here) and the juxtaposition of her and Emmett happily trading "traditional" gender roles is a favorite aspect of mine. I love love Gawain. Like, I legit forgot how much I love this rewriting of his character. And speaking of rewritings, I love the remake Lance gets as well. They all kept their personalities and joking fun, balanced with increasing responsibility and stress that comes with age. The newest addition in this last book, Sir Tor, plays a phenomenal quiet, outside-the-institution, different-POV, advisor role that does a gorgeous job illustrating the importance of even just one trusted adult in a young person’s and the effect that can have on their life/mental health/resilience. Even the "bad guys," like Morgana and Mordred got really creative remade character arcs. I thought they were dynamic and fresh and I liked them a lot. 
 
On the other hand, I'm going to be honest here, I just hated Emry’s dad so much. Every part he was in gave me UGH feels. He was the worst as a parent and role model. While he was written in well, and it gave space in the narrative for a really mature development in parent child-relationships (the younger realizing the older will not change, the older accepting the younger has surpassed them in many ways, and both working towards acceptance of that), I just wished he wasn't there. I felt like his presence really took away from some of the lightheartedness of the first two books and wished he could have stayed disappeared and Emry/Emmett could still have had coming of age arcs in other ways. Personal preference. 
 
Anyways, despite my hatred of the elder Merlin, there were overall fantastic character growth and story arcs. All the realizations and growing-ups that happened were spectacular. Plot-wise, I wasn’t sure how this was going to be to wrap (the ending isn’t really a happy one in the traditional tales), but it was so perfect! Some magical pieces that were "convenient," of course, but the mix of original and predictable was done well. And the ultimate finale was an absolutely hilarious twist on the most famous quest in western history! Loved that. Way to keep the fun vibes to close the series. 
 
In the end, this series was just SO much fun, so good. It was lively and diverting and entertaining from start to finish. 
 
 “She could feel herself becoming smaller. Lesser. [...] The negative space in relation to powerful men, rather than her own person.” 
 
“They both held themselves arrogantly, like men who had the kind of power that couldn;t be taken away. Like men who expected the whole world to respect them, and bend to their will. The worst part was, it too often did.” (it’s not subtle, but it’s YA...and it’s not wrong
 
“He’d just have to learn. He was good at learning. Besides, no one was born knowing how to do a job they’d never had.” 
 
“How will we learn from our mistakes if we don’t make any?” 
 
“You defend those who cannot defend themselves. And you inspire others to do the same. This world you dream of, where anyone can earn their place regardless of gender, or station, or whom they love is one that I would very much like to help you build.” 
 
“He should have decided sooner that he didn’t care what people thought. It wasn’t worth exhausting himself trying to live up to everyone else’s impossible and exacting standards.” 
 
“I’m saying that whatever is haunting you isn't you. It's just your fears. And you can be fearful and brave at the same time. You don't have to be only one thing.” 

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