This review contains spoilers for the previous book, so if you have not read it please do not look beneath the spoiler tag!
In the previous book, the Stranger Times team had a lot of close calls, and as they attempt to put it all behind them, the universe has other ideas. As Stella tries to get to grips with University, her place on a journalism course courtesy of Bancroft’s guilt, a man falls from the sky in front of her. Moments before his death, he was seen floating, which is odd even for the Stranger Times team. As the newspaper of weird news, they’re already on the case, but it becomes even more important that they find out what happened when The Founders think that Stella was involved. After everything that has happened, they’re just itching for an excuse to get their hands on her, and no one will let that happen.
Of course, nothing ever goes smoothly for the gang, and Bancroft’s past has come back to haunt him, quite literally. While Simon forgave the editor for his role in the desecration of his spirit, it seems that other powers are less than charitable. Those who watch over the dead have decided to give him one more chance to atone. With just a name to go on and very little time to identify the problem and fix it, Bancroft sets the team on it with only Hannah knowing how dire the situation truly is.
As the title suggests, Relight My Fire has a healthy dish of musical nostalgia as C.K. McDonnell also throws in an indie rock singer from Hannah’s teenage years. He perfectly captures the embarrassing moment of coming face to face with the idol of teenage adoration that was postered all over her bedroom wall and used more than once to practise kissing on. I’m sure I won’t be the only one who felt seen when Hannah word-vomited spectacularly.
I wasn’t sure how this book would be, considering a lot happened in the last one to wrap up various sub-plots. It didn’t just see us finding out the truth about Bancroft’s wife, it also in a roundabout way finally settled Hannah in as assistant editor. Up until that point, she wasn’t quite sure if the Stranger Times was where she belonged, and her secret mission with Mrs Hawnforth gave her a much-needed boost of confidence. There was a noticeable change in her in this book, and while she had her normal flustered moments, it was great to see her talking to Stella about university in a big sisterly way without needlessly putting herself down.
Compared to the previous books, this one is a four-star for me, and that’s not to say it was bad in any way, it just didn’t quite hit all the points that the others have. In a way, Love Will Tear Us Apart felt like the equivalent of a TV mid-season finale and in Relight My Fire McDonnell starts to lay the ground for new sub-plots. There’s still plenty of chaos and action, including an incredible battle scene that I won’t ever forget, however, I felt that character development was more the aim of the game here. Again, not a bad thing, it was just slightly different and promises wonderful chaos and danger for the team in the next book.
Once again, McDonnell introduced some wonderful new characters, and I am hoping that they reappear again. Toni is too glorious not to be seen ever again. I adored her, and the dressing down she gave to the complaining customer was one of my favourite scenes in the book. Plus, how could I not love a character who introduces themselves as “That’s Toni with an I […] because I will insist on making a disability into a brand.”? I loved that McDonnell created a character that used their trauma and resulting disability in such a positive way.
It seems as though one of them at least looks to be a new permanent fixture, and I can’t wait to see more of Brian. He is exactly the type of character I would expect to find in a Stranger Times novel.
I realised while reading Relight My Fire that The Stranger Times series has become a comfort read for me. Sadly, I read so quickly that the new novel is done, and I’m stuck waiting for the next one all over again. With the way this one ended, I’ve got a lot to think about between now and the next book!
This book contains scenes of death, blood, gore, violence, kidnapping, experimentation, desecration of corpses, graverobbing, drug use, vomit, and cannibalism.
The corpses of various undead celebrities and famous people appear. The choice of individuals as well as how they appear in the book may appear as insensitive to some readers. Keep in mind that this is a comedy novel.
There is a scene that discusses an attempted sexual assault (off page), physical assault and transphobia (off page). There is also a brief mention of a character’s childhood bullying.
With a cover with a rune-inscribed skeleton and a dragon peeking out between the ribs, I could hardly pass up on To Cage a God by Elizabeth May.
This multi-narrative high fantasy novel follows the story of two orphaned girls who are tied together by horrific circumstances. Ruled by the alurea, a class who have captured the immense power of the gods in their bodies, the Faithless rebel against their oppression and brutality in any way they can. But how do you fight the power of the gods? You become a god.
Sera and Galina’s mother, Irina, the late leader of the Faithless, uncovered the ancient research that first gave the alurea their power. Through experimentation, they found that it only worked on children. Irina didn’t hesitate to experiment on her daughter Sera, however, she made a mistake, leaving Sera with a violent and angry god trapped inside her that is only placated with blood. Convincing an orphaned girl to take up her cause, Irina succeeded with Galina, filling her with the power of godfire, the very power that the Empress had used to massacre her village. The power that left scars on her body.
Now adults, the two sisters have been in hiding for many years, their mother long dead, executed by the Empress. When the new rebel leader assassinates the Emperor, their current home is attacked by a rival kingdom, sparking war again. This time, the sisters decide not to flee into hiding. When war happens, the commoners are the ones who end up suffering the most, and they are the only ones who have the power to stop the alurea once and for all.
But it means implementing a dangerous plan that puts Galina right under the Empress’ nose, where she could be exposed at any moment. Likewise, returning to their old home brings Sera face to face with the new leader of the Faithless who is intent on blowing every alurea to pieces, including Galina. He just so happens to be her ex-lover.
As both women play a game of cat and mouse with danger, the stakes couldn’t be higher as the Empress raises the stakes trying to root out the Faithless, and she doesn’t care how many commoners get hurt in the process.
I’ve seen several reviews suggesting that To Cage a God is nothing more than a retelling of Russian history. While the book definitely does take inspiration from Slavic cultures, I can’t remember seeing anything by the author to suggest that intention, nor am I familiar enough with Russian history to comment on it. What I will say is that I came here for the fantasy.
The world-building is wonderfully refreshing. It’s gloriously dark and is everything that the cover promised, wrapped up with complicated and realistic characters that spoke to me. Characters with divine powers, channelling the powers of the gods is nothing new, however, having a god trapped inside their rune-inscribed bones? That is some dark creativity that stands out to me.
It took a while for some of them to get to me, specifically Sera and Vitaly. In contrast, Galina, Anya and Katya got there pretty quickly and Vasilisa stole my heart from the first moment. I didn’t just adore her because she was a disabled character, it was her wicked streak and sarcasm that flew in the face of decorum. I was not expecting her in any way and deeply appreciated the chronic pain representation that was very accurate, and the eugenics storyline.
A rather nasty review of To Cage a God reduced it to a bunch of stereotypes, and to be frank, some reviewers need to learn the difference between stereotypes and archetypes. As with all fantasy books, this one has familiar archetypes. These characters are not stereotypical, and in particular, I found the relationships to be the opposite of stereotypical. Sera and Vitaly’s relationship troubled me at first, as it appeared to be quite toxic, and there are certainly some moments that are not healthy. However, no relationship is perfect, and it’s always nice to see that portrayed in a book.
This is a solid four and a half stars for me, and the only reason it’s not higher for me is that it’s just a wee bit dark for me. This is a very trauma-heavy book, and that’s not a bad thing; May handles it sensitively and not as a plot device (unlike other books I’ve read). It just was a bit darker than I like my fantasy, especially as someone with PTSD. Be sure to check the content warnings for this one.
Listed by the author:
To Cage A God depicts violence and the impacts of imperialism against the backdrop of a budding war and revolution. The ruling class in this book is ruthless, ableist, and openly practices eugenics. There is frank reference to grim eugenics practices. One character manages chronic pain and disability and is forced to keep her illness invisible because of this.
In addition, another character is bonded to a god that demands self-harm, so please be aware of this if cutting is a trigger for you.
List of additional CWs:
Violence: murder, immolation, explosions, injuries, gore, death
Self-harm: alcoholism, suicide, stabbing (self-inflicted and not), cutting
Abuse: emotional abuse, manipulative relationships (parental)
MISC: self-medication, eugenics, frank depictions of living with chronic pain, PTSD
I’ve read many great books in the last year, however, it has been a while since one has left me as emotionally wrecked as So Let Them Burn by Kamilah Cole did. This is a book that I have been waiting to read for a very long time, and it did not disappoint.
Faron Vincent is the Child Empyrean, a human who prayed to the gods when she was twelve during a war to ask them to save her people. They responded by giving her the ability to channel their power and the task of finding the heir to the throne. Five years later, Faron is seventeen, a revered hero who uses her divine powers to win street races. She has lots of power and no cause to fight, especially when the Iryan Queen, her former fellow rebel fighter, is holding a peace summit with the very people, the dragon-riding Langley Empire, who they were fighting not long ago.
As the infamous Child Empyrean, she’s expected to attend, and she’s even angrier when she’s forced to attend early because the Langley Empire used a loophole to bring extra dragons with them. It’s already a tense atmosphere, and then protesters meet them at the site of the Summit. Queen Aveline is questioning her decision, while at the same time recognising that another war would devastate her queendom.
Everyone is watching the Langley Empire even more closely, especially with the extra dragons and their riders in attendance. When one starts to attack the peace summit, Faron feels vindicated in her fury – until she realises her sister Elara isn’t just involved, she’s bound to the dragon. An Iryan bonded to a dragon has never been heard of, and as if this didn’t make things complicated enough, the Commander of the Langley Empire informs them that the attack was the result of a complicated illness that is affecting their dragons and riders. A Fury that takes over both, resulting in destruction.
The only time it didn’t was at the peace summit when Faron stopped it. The Langley Empire want her help to stop it before tragedy strikes, but the problem is Faron has no idea how she did it the first time. To make matters worse, they want to take her sister into the heart of their lands to learn how to ride a dragon, a creature that symbolises Iryan trauma.
Pulled apart for the first time in their life, Faron and Elara must try to survive as they decide who to trust, work out what’s real and whether their former oppressors truly want peace or up to something nefarious.
Where do I even start?! Cole has created an incredible book that is powerful, explosive and stunning to behold. Every word is laced with emotion, and this one will leave you emotionally wrecked. Just when you think you know how things are going to go down, Cole rips the reader’s complacency out from under them.
We get two stories for the price of one, as Cole drops details of the war and Faron and Elara’s traumatic childhood throughout the narrative. She does it in such a way that it adds to the story rather than information dumping in large clumps, helping the reader to see through the character’s eyes and recognise the significance of current events. I much preferred this method of storytelling rather than having to read through a first book dedicated to the sisters’ childhood. I’ve always been interested in the idea of what happens to the chosen one after their save-the-day moment is over, and that is the story Cole is telling us in So Let Them Burn.
I liked that there were moments in So Let Them Burn that I knew were coming; they were comforting amongst the chaos, and there is a lot of chaos in this book. There are tropes, but there are also some tropes that Cole turns on their head, and one was of particular interest to me as a disabled reader. I can’t say anything specific as it’s a major spoiler point, so you’ll need to just trust me on this one.
Fantasy novels with dragons and dragon-riding seem to be back in fashion, and a certain novel is a comp for So Let Them Burn. Personally, I wasn’t a huge fan of that one and if you’re beginning to get a bit fed up with dragons don’t let it put you off reading this one. While dragons and dragon-riding are a part of So Let Them Burn, consider them to be just one ingredient in a much larger recipe. This book is so much more than just a book about dragons.
It’s a book about race, culture, conquest, oppression and war and the trauma caused by them. How does someone begin to heal from that trauma when the cause of that trauma is still present in their life? That question is at the heart of So Let Them Burn, and please seek out reviews by readers of colour who can talk more about the specific type of trauma and related topics present in this book, as it’s not my place to do so.
All of Cole’s characters are brilliantly written, and her action scenes will leave your heart pumping. It did not surprise me that I bonded with Elara quickly, the rule-following sister being similar to myself. However, I was pleasantly surprised that I felt the same way about Faron who is nothing like me. That is always the sign of a skilful writer to me, someone who can create a character and embody them fully to the point that you feel them that strongly when you read their book.
There was a point in So Let Them Burn where Faron is told to just do her best, and it’s the first time that she’s not held to any obligation since becoming the Child Empyrean. She’s not expected to be a weapon, an all-powerful hero or a saint. She just needs to do her best, and I felt that deep in my chest because the feeling of obligation is something we’ve all felt at some point.
In case I’ve been too subtle; So Let Them Burn is the dragon fantasy book that you need to be adding to your reading list ASAP.
Taken from the author’s website:
Explicit language, depictions of PTSD (nightmares, unwanted memories/flashbacks, dissociation, anxiety, mistrust, hypervigilance, self-destructive behavior), explicit descriptions of war, blood, and corpses, grief (expressed in healthy and unhealthy ways), racism (challenged), minor character deaths, a near-fatal beating, and stolen body/mind autonomy.
Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
4.0
Set in 1905, Boys in the Valley by Philip Fracassi tells the story of a group of boys at an orphanage in Delaware County, Pennsylvania in 1905. Under the care of a group of priests, the boys at St. Vincent’s Orphanage live a life of farm work and religious teaching. Underneath this seemingly peaceful pastoral setting, there is something much darker at play. The boys are physically and emotionally abused by their caretakers, suffering painful punishments and neglect when they fail to obey.
It’s more trauma on top of what many of the boys have already experienced, with many of them living in or facing dire circumstances before being brought to the orphanage. That’s especially true for Peter, who watched his father kill his mother before committing suicide in front of him. Peter barely escaped their burning house alive, and now as he nears adulthood, he is torn between life as a priest and life with the pretty girl at a nearby farm.
Peter’s plans for the future are irrevocably changed when a group of men brings a mysterious stranger to the orphanage one night. The men are the local sheriff and his deputies, and their prisoner who has committed heinous crimes is acting strange enough that the sheriff is seeking the aid of a priest.
Despite every attempt to save him, the prisoner dies. Upon death something is released, something old and evil, and the boys of St Vincent’s are completely unprepared for it. It takes root in some of them and lines are drawn in the sand very quickly as the boys split into groups; them and us.
As things start to turn violent, Peter and the next eldest boy, David, must look after the other boys when a horrific attack on the adults leaves them as the only defence from evil like nothing they’ve seen before.
Can a group of young boys survive an ancient evil that even the priests couldn’t stop?
Boys in the Valley is a brilliant horror book that pushes all the right buttons and will hold your attention throughout. I worried at the start of the book when Fracassi introduced the setting and characters that this was going to be a very slow-paced book. Thankfully, it was just him setting the scene with a thoroughness that would add to the tension later on. I stuck with the book, and I am so glad that I did because it is one of the best horror stories I have read.
For me, a horror story needs to have a great story along with the right amount of blood, gore and violence. I’m reading a book, not watching a horror movie or playing a hack-and-slash video game; there needs to be something more than just blood and gore. I also need to feel the horror, not to the point where it freaks me out, and I’ll have nightmares. I just want to feel the creepiness, the darkness that the author is trying to sell me. Theological horror has always been a favourite of mine, and this ticked all the boxes for me.
Not only that, but I knew Boys in the Valley was a winner when I was reading a scene where one of the characters turns to look at the evil boys, realising that they aren’t just acting weird and that something is very wrong, that his life might be in danger – and caught myself holding my breath in sync with the character in anticipation of their actions.
Boys in the Valley is a dark horror novel that capitalises on the idea of the innocence of children and juxtaposes it with extreme violence. The two are not supposed to mix, and the wrongness of the situation just adds to the horror as events unfold. Please be aware that while this works towards the atmosphere of the book, there are scenes that are quite disturbing, and it’s worth checking the content warnings to be on the safe side before picking this one up.
As to be expected with a horror novel, this book includes a lot of death, violence, blood and gore. Death scenes include the murder of a mother by a father who then takes his own life and this is witnessed by their young son, and vicious murders committed by children of adults and other children. There is also a detailed discussion of the ritual sacrifice of a toddler (off page) and murder of a baby (off page).
There are scenes depicting and discussing the physical and emotional abuse of boys by their caretakers. The boys are neglected, and barely fed. If they do not pass inspection for mealtimes or are late they are starved, and other boys are punished if they try to give food to them. Some boys have permanent scars and disfigurements from punishments received when they were younger. There is also a flashback scene to an adult’s childhood abuse where his mother locked him inside a closet as punishment.
The most extreme punishment inspired by a form of torture a former prisoner once experienced is an underground cell outside where the boys are left for a day or more no matter how extreme the weather is at the time. In the book, this happens during the middle of a winter storm.
This book also includes scenes of exorcism, torture, crucifixion, self-cannibalism, animal death, burning and disfigurement.
Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
4.0
That Self-Same Metal by Brittany N. Williams is a historical fantasy set in Jacobean London and focuses on the life of Joan Sands, a sixteen-year-old who works with a playing troupe called the King’s Men. While women are prohibited from taking the stage, they can work behind the scenes and Joan’s job is to teach the players how to perform sword fights. It’s not always an easy task, but it is one that brings Joan great joy and lets her use her skill with weapons.
Joan would much rather be working with her father as an apprentice in his workshop, crafting metal with her hands, however, that isn’t considered acceptable work for a woman. It’s even harder for her to watch her father’s untalented apprentice make a hash of things when metal is in her blood, calling to her. Like her entire family, she’s Orisha-blessed, a human who can perform magic due to a blessing by a deity known as an Orisha. Joan has been blessed by the head Orisha, Ogun, the Orisha of Iron and as a result, she can control metal.
She is still learning how to use her powers and is constantly being reminded by her parents and mentor Baba Ben that her spiritual relationship with Ogun needs a lot of work. Joan and her mentor are the only living children of Ogun, so when he goes missing right before the Pact between humans and Fae needs to be renewed by a child of Ogun, Joan’s world is thrown into chaos – especially when neither Joan nor her twin brother James has never even heard of the Pact!
At first, the race is on to find Baba Ben to prevent the Pact from failing, and when that proves to be impossible Joan and James find themselves surrounded by Fae the like they’ve never seen before. While some are obviously foes, others seem to be offering help, but can a Fae ever be trusted?
There were so many parts of the synopsis of That Self-Same Metal that drew me in, as well as the gorgeous cover art that just begged me to learn more about the lead character, and Williams did not disappoint in the slightest. The world-building was very interesting, and it was very clear that Williams had not just done a lot of research, but that she was writing about topics that she was passionate about. I felt that this book was a passion project as much as it was an author bringing their story to life, and that enthusiasm shines through in the characters, especially Joan.
Williams has written a nuanced story that takes into account the prejudices of the time, and she gives voice to Joan’s anguish and fury as she endures racist behaviour in such a powerful way. It was also fantastic to read an openly bisexual character, and I liked the way that Williams chose to write the romance subplot (that’s all I can say without spoiling anything!). Joan is confused about how she feels about Rose and Nick, however, she’s not confused about her sexuality, which is how sexuality is so often written in young adult novels.
In between the chapters, there are small interludes that are mini-tales of what is happening around London as the Fae emerge back into the world, and these were great. Sometimes they connected with the main story, and other times they were just random stories that gave greater context.
It didn’t occur to me until I was reading the acknowledgements that Williams isn’t British. Normally I notice when a non-British author is writing British dialogue, even if there are no issues. It was very much appreciated that Williams took the time to contact a fellow author to ensure that, as she put it, her “Brits were British-ing appropriately”. That the author was Cavan Scott, one of my favourite authors, made that even better.
I enjoyed That Self-Same Metal a lot and if you’re looking for a book that approaches Fae from a new perspective then you will love this one. I can’t wait to follow the adventures of Joan and her companions in the next book!
This book contains scenes of violence, death, blood, gore, and cannibalism. There are scenes of racism, these include the use of slurs (“Negro”, “Neress”, “abomination”) and scenes that dehumanise black people. In one particular scene, a black female character is given a cushion to sit on at the feet of a socially powerful white woman, and she endures petting, racist comments and verbal abuse from multiple white women. One of the plays featured in the book uses blackface, and darker-skinned actors use paint to whiten their skin to play white characters in the same play.
As fitting with the historical period, there are scenes of misogyny, classism and religious tyranny. Additionally, there are scenes of blackmail, threats, bear-baiting, animal death and the mention of baby loss and miscarriage.
The Charmed by Kylie Fennell is set in 1851 the year of The Great Exhibition, the infamous Crystal Palace so named by the glass building designed by Joseph Paxton. Organised by Queen Victoria’s consort, Prince Albert and Henry Cole, The Great Exhibition was an international exhibition that housed exhibits from all over the world. The Crystal Palace is a place of wonder, and it is everything that Lady Alice Hyde could ever dream of, filled with inventions and offers her access to a world that will be closed to her soon.
She’s engaged to be married, and her dreams of travelling to the countries exhibited in The Great Exhibition are disappearing before her eyes. Little does Alice expect to have her world turned upside down while visiting The Great Exhibition. Witnessing the murder of a woman she knows, Alice is drawn into the world of the mysterious fae as she works with Cyan Symond, the Exhibition’s caretaker, to find the culprit. As Alice soon learns, there’s much more going on, and she’s right in the middle of it.
I wanted to like The Charmed, however, there were so many issues that I couldn’t ignore. Fennell’s world-building was interesting at times, and for me personally, the setting of The Great Exhibition was a selling point as it’s my hometown’s local history. Unfortunately, the interesting points were let down by stereotypical characters, weak plot points and huge over-reaching in the world-building.
Let’s start with the characters. Alice is the stereotypical clever and nosey female Victorian character who infuriates the male character, and ultimately they fall for each other. That trope doesn’t bother me so much. What did bother me was that as soon as they slept together, she turned into a completely different person who was fawning over him every second to the point where she couldn’t even finish a sentence. If this was one of those books where fae had a natural sexual attraction, pheromones or anything to explain such a reaction, then fair enough. However, there was nothing to explain this sudden change.
The other characters in the book can all be fixed to a trope. There wasn’t an original character at all in The Charmed, and the big reveals of the book were also huge tropes. The overall plot felt weak due to this. At the start of the book, there appears to be anxiety representation. Alice’s Uncle, the Viscount, struggles with anxiety and obsessive-compulsive thoughts about germs. Later in the book it is revealed that Fennell has not written a character with anxiety or OCD representation, instead, she has just used mental health as a plot device.
While I found Fennell’s interpretation of fae interesting, she has chosen to mix time travelling with her world-building. On some levels, this works and adds interesting components to the story, but Fennell has over-reached at times. For example, bringing technology from the future into the Victorian era and completely ignoring the consequences of doing so. She has just thrown time travel into the mix and brushed any actual technicalities about it under the rug. I also kid you not that one of these items was called a “ray gun”.
Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
3.0
In Daughter of Darkness, Katharine and Elizabeth Corr have created a world based on Greek mythology. Deina is a Theodesmioi, a human who has been marked by a god and has the ability to channel some of their power. Despite their abilities, the Theodesmioi are not all powerful, rather they are slaves who earn their freedom by performing rites. Every increment of time earned off their indenture time is marked on their flesh in the form of rite-seals. They are bound to their workplace, whether a city or ship, by a collar that prevents them from leaving.
It’s a life that Deina is desperate to escape from, and when a lucrative offer from the tyrant king Orpheus appears to give her that chance, she can’t volunteer fast enough. Of course, any offer of freedom and a huge chest of gold isn’t going to come without strings attached. Along with several other Theodesmioi from her House, Deina is given the task of heading into the Underworld to retrieve Orpheus’ dead wife Eurydice and return her to the king.
As Theodesmioi of Hades, Deina and her companions are known as Soul Severers and spend a lot of time around death. But that doesn’t normally involve going into the Underworld. It’s unheard of, and it’s dangerous. To complicate matters, the only way to complete the task and survive to claim her freedom is to work with the Severers going with her. Deina isn’t a team player at the best of times, especially not when her team includes her former childhood friend who betrayed her and a misogynist who believes women are weak and useless.
Heading into the Underworld, Deina is as prepared for a difficult journey as she can be… or so she believes.
Daughter of Darkness is one of those books that I’d heard a lot about, and yet it failed to make a big impact on me. I found the story and characters to be predictable, and a big part of that was the book’s title. It gave away the biggest reveal of the whole novel in my opinion, and honestly, I spent the entire time just waiting for what was already on the cover to be officially confirmed. There was only one reveal in the book that came as a surprise, and that was because the authors only hinted at it briefly. Everything else just felt overly spoon-fed, as though the reader wasn’t smart enough to pick up on any clues.
I enjoyed aspects of the world-building that the Corr sisters had created, such as the concept of Soul Severers. I liked the idea of having a job in society that existed to save people pain when they were nearing death, or in accidents. In Daughter of Darkness, it’s mentioned that one of the Severers helps lead a young child to the Underworld when they are fatally injured in an accident, saving them from a painful death and letting them die painlessly.
At first, I thought that the entire book was misogynistic, but a little research shows that the authors have in fact based their rights of women in their book on how they were in Ancient Greece. That being said, I felt that their version of the pantheon was overly focused on male deities. The only Houses of Theodesmioi mentioned are for male gods, and female goddesses are mostly named in passing. The only one specifically named is Hecate, as Deina prays to her multiple times. I don’t know whether they were intentionally missed out and therefore, only male gods have marked Theodesmioi or they just were not mentioned in this book.
Either way, it bothered me because while Ancient Greece might not have given women many rights, when it came to mythology their pantheon is filled with many prominent goddesses. It felt very odd to me not to have them included in a book based on Greek mythology.
I didn’t dislike Daughter of Darkness, and it’s a solid three stars for me, but I’ve got to be honest; when it comes to trips to the Underworld there’s only one author for me and that’s Rick Riordan. It’s going to take quite a lot to beat The House of Hades, the fourth book in The Heroes of Olympus series. This one ended on a cliffhanger that promises a lot more drama to come in the next book, and I’m hoping it will deliver with less predictability.
This book contains scenes of death, blood, violence, gore, human sacrifice, slavery, tyranny, misogyny, and forced captivity. There is a scene where someone is being eaten alive by undead creatures and another character kills them to end their suffering. There’s an emotionally abusive relationship between a husband and wife which includes obsession, control and manipulation. In one scene a female character is groped and threatened with sexual assault but nothing further happens on page.
I was really looking forward to The Chalice of the Gods by Rick Riordan, however, I just didn’t enjoy this one as much as previous Percy Jackson and the Olympians books. I loved having Percy, Annabeth and Grover back together again, and as usual, Riordan’s writing was fantastic. I think what didn’t work for me was that the focus of The Chalice of the Gods was different. On the one hand, I’m happy to see the character’s lives move on and watch them grow up. But I don’t read these books to read all about the characters’ lives in the city, walking around getting drinks and food. I read them for the mythology, the heroes and the monsters.
It just didn’t feel like there was as much of that in The Chalice of the Gods. I also felt like the pacing of this one was a bit off, and I was about 80% through the book before I realised that this wasn’t going to be a standalone book, which is what I thought it was. This didn’t put me off Riordan’s work in the slightest, and I’m eager to read the next book, I just didn’t enjoy it as much as the previous ones.
Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
3.0
When it comes to overly popular books, I don’t tend to be swayed by popular opinion. I read books based on my interests. I have heard so many mixed responses to Fourth Wing by Rebecca Yarros that normally I would avoid it. However, it has Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome (EDS) representation which is so rare in fiction, especially science fiction and fantasy, that I wanted to check this one out for myself. I would have checked Fourth Wing out as I like to review books with disability and neurodivergent representation to provide reviews for members of our community anyway, but this representation is particularly relevant for me as I have hypermobile EDS (hEDS). There are currently thirteen types of EDS, hEDS being one of them, and for those who know about the condition, please visit the Ehlers-Danlos Society website for more information.
Fourth Wing tells the story of a twenty-year-old woman who had prepared all her life to become a scribe. On the day that Violet is about to enter the Scribe Quadrant and begin her studies, her life is turned upside down by her mother’s decision that she will be joining the elite dragon riders instead. Her mother is a General and the commander of the Basgiath War College where dragon riders are trained. Violet’s choice doesn’t matter; no one will go against her mother’s wishes, and she wants her daughter to follow in her siblings’ footsteps.
The problem is that Violet’s body isn’t like everyone else’s; it’s weaker and injures easily. Her joints dislocate and sublux (partially dislocate or displace) and the War College is a dangerous enough place without being at such a physical disadvantage. It’s a death sentence, and her chances of even surviving the harsh crossing to even reach the College are slim.
When she makes it over the parapet, Violet finds herself in an environment that’s hostile in multiple ways. It’s not just the training, it’s the other riders who think she’s a liability for being weak, who hate her for her mother’s past actions and then there are the dragons themselves. Powerful creatures who are more likely to incinerate her on the spot than bond with a “fragile” human.
Will Violet survive the harsh life of Basgiath and become a dragon rider like her family before her, or will her body fail her?
The first thing I noticed about Fourth Wing was how utterly blasé Yarros was about death from the onset. The danger of Basgiath, especially for someone as “weak” as Violet, was implied over and over again and backed up by the constant deaths of characters. It made it impossible for me to become emotionally attached to any character in the book because Yarros did not discriminate. It didn’t matter if they were a minor character, an unnamed NPC or a main character; everyone was fair game.
Not being able to become attached to a character was not the only issue I had with Yarros’ constant obsession with killing characters off. It was one of several major plot holes that I came across in Fourth Wing. The dragon riders are elite warriors and their training is intense, to the point that they are killed during it. Got it. However, that makes no sense when you think about it. The whole concept of the world that Yarros has built is that the dragons bond with riders to keep the realm safe from a serious threat. How does killing off hundreds of students help achieve that? It’s counterintuitive and extremely wasteful of potential warriors who could train in other fields and still help protect the land.
Especially when you take in how they “train” and I use that term extremely loosely as there appears to be no physical training. The only physical training takes place in the form of sparring matches, and there is no directed learning. During these sparring matches, the rules are extremely loose, with one particularly violent student killing another through excessive force.
The students do not learn fighting styles, their skills primarily come from the knowledge that they bring with them before entering Basgiath, which they refine during the sparring matches. The dog-eat-dog environment pits students against each other, preventing them from learning from each other. After all, you don’t want your competition to have an upper hand.
While that all makes for good drama, again, it makes little sense for a military academy. It often feels that at every turn in Fourth Wing, Yarros is determined to handicap her characters rather than give them the tools to help them survive. This harsh and violent setting fuels a trope that I feel is the foundation of Fourth Wing; the chosen one.
Yarros reminds us at every turn that Violet is weak, that she’s fragile, and uses the constant barrage of death to drive the point home that we’re just one page away from our heroine failing. Of course, as the protagonist, we all know that is never going to happen because otherwise, it will be a very short book, which is what makes the constant commentary from Yarros even more ridiculous. It actually becomes offensive, and ableist because it honestly feels as though the author herself doesn’t believe that her heroine, a disabled woman, can do anything.
But she’s weak, she has a chronic illness, I hear you cry! Yes, that means she’s at a disadvantage, and yet other authors writing characters with chronic illnesses and disabilities somehow manage not to write a book where they are putting their character down on almost every page. It reeks of internal ableism, and I’m not talking about Violet’s. This is what bothered me the most about Fourth Wing, the constant implication that someone who is clearly not weak and is surviving while her stronger classmates are dying around her is weak and fragile JUST because she has a disability.
If Yarros had simply gone with Violet, managing the difficult task of surviving and excelling, then that would have been one thing. Instead, Violet is the ‘chosen one’, who continuously defies the odds. With one year of physical training, she manages to survive the obstacle course, while another character who has been training on them since childhood fails. She manages the impossible, doing something that has never been done in the history of dragon riders. It was also incredibly obvious from the moment that something rare was mentioned that it was going to end up involving Violet.
Concerning EDS representation, I felt that there wasn’t much of it. As with every book I’ve read so far that has EDS representation in it, Fourth Wing as someone who has hEDS I did not feel that the book represented the full variety of symptoms well. Specifically just how painful and all-encompassing Violet’s condition actually is. EDS affects every moving part of a person’s body which includes joints, ligaments, muscles, and tendons. So imagine just how much damage Violet was doing to hers while training.
I think that the lack of understanding of her condition is extremely noticeable by the number of readers who downplay her disability in their reviews or appear to not even notice it. Ableism accounts for some of this, but I think the way that Yarros has chosen to focus on Violet’s being weak rather than taking the time to describe Violet’s symptoms and EDS-related injuries (she gives them a sentence or two at most) plays a large part.
Of course, Fourth Wing is a fantasy novel and Violet’s condition is not given a specific name. We only know it is based on EDS from Yarros’ telling us this, but as she has the condition herself, I would have liked to have seen better representation.
Only twice in Fourth Wing does Violet use her hypermobile body to her advantage, and yes, being hypermobile has advantages. It isn’t all about pain, weakness and fragile joints, despite what Yarros would make you believe. For example, having loose joints means that people with EDS can bend in ways that normal people can’t (reaching the middle of your back is very handy!). As such, that should have given Violet an advantage in many sparring matches. Only one time does Yarros seem to remember this and have Violet twist out of a hold in a fight. During a big fight scene, Violet uses her intimate knowledge of joints and their weaknesses to injure an opponent. This made me chuckle because people with chronic illnesses do have a much better understanding of bodies and their weak points due to our lived experience.
Ella T Holmes wrote about toxic perseverance in her guest post Fly Or Die: The Ableist Narrative of Toxic Perseverance for GeekDis 2023, an annual event I run about disability representation (it has been wonderful to see so many reviews linking to this, so thank you!). As Ella points out many of Violet’s activities are high impact and that wording is deliberate. When I was first diagnosed as a teenager I was told to avoid high-impact activities at school as they could damage my joints – I was thrilled, I hated sports so I had essentially been given a legitimate excuse to avoid doing them. Yet Yarros has written a book where everything her protagonist does is high impact and yet she’s still surviving.
While Yarros offers explanations for Violet avoiding treatment at every turn, we have to remember that she is the author and could have quite as easily done the opposite. Every time I found myself scratching my head at Yarros’ authorial decisions in this book more than I have in any other book, and that includes the ones I’ve DNFed.
On top of all this, we also have Dain, Violet’s childhood friend who spends his every waking moment trying to convince Violet to quit and become a scribe. His every action is toxic, and there are so many red flags.
Despite all these reservations I’ve given Fourth Wing by Rebecca Yarros three stars. It’s not the worst book I’ve ever read, and beneath the plot holes and issues I have with the representation, there were parts that I enjoyed. Essentially the parts with the dragons. If I could have skipped out all constant deaths and just got to the part with the dragons, then I’d have been good. The conversations with Violet and her dragon were hilarious; who doesn’t love a grumpy old dragon?
One final thing I do need to say is that I’m not quite sure why people say this book is so steamy. I went into expecting sex scenes galore and was very surprised with how little there was. There is a lot of sexual tension but not that much action compared to other books I’ve read.
Will I read the next book? I don’t know. If my library gets it in then I might, but I’m not going to go looking for it.
This book contains scenes of blood, gore, violence, death, war, torture, creature death, genocide, suicide ideation, and bullying. There are scenes of physical and emotional abuse, including gaslighting. Death of parents and family members (off page) are discussed on page at various points throughout the book. The children of rebels are branded (off page) and are forced into indentured servitude at the War College, essentially giving them a death sentence.
The Gauntlet and the Broken Chain by Ian Green is the final book in a trilogy that has been gripping from start to finish. Green has created a world that is dark, hostile and bleak, where characters are constantly fighting to survive against difficult odds. Unlike other fantasy series, it’s believable, with realistic consequences for their actions.
It is those consequences that Floré and her companions face in The Gauntlet and the Broken Chain. In the previous book, Tomas’ decisions led to the legendary immortal mage Tullen One-Eye breaking the chains placed upon him by god-bear Anshuka. The first thing that Tullen did was to take out the only mage powerful enough to stop him; Floré husband the salt mage, Janos. Believed to be dead, everyone (including the reader!) was shocked to find that Janos had not indeed died as previously believed and had been kept alive by a malicious organisation. His reunion with Floré was short-lived when he tried to stop the newly unchained Tullen in an extraordinary battle and instead lost his life.
Reeling from losing Janos for a second time, Floré has no time to grieve as she and her companions find their way back from the island they were abandoned on. Her daughter Marta is ill, dying from the powerful skein-magic inherited from her father. Once again, Floré’s duties are split. As a mother she wants to find her daughter more than anything, but as Commander she knows that if they don’t stop Tullen from getting his revenge and killing the god-bear Anshuka then no one will ever be safe, including Marta. It’s a race against time as the group splits to accomplish the impossible; stop the man who cannot be killed.
Once again, Green has served up a thrilling no-holds barred fight for survival. After the events of the previous book it was clear going into The Gauntlet and the Broken Chain that anything could happen, and from the start of this trilogy Green made it quite clear that there will be casualties. Despite the obvious dire circumstances, there is a lot more happening than just the final battle. As seen in the previous book, the chains that were holding Tullen captive were tied deeply with the entire world and when they broke they had repercussions felt deeply. In the main story and in interludes Green explores these repercussions, while also exploring theological concepts about belief and gods.
The final battle was well written and, as I’ve come to expect from Green’s writing over the course of The Rotstorm trilogy, original while still grounded in epic fantasy conventions. The Gauntlet and the Broken Chain is an epic conclusion to a trilogy that is a must-read for fantasy fans, especially those who like their fantasy dark and unique.