Haunting. What if you were living in a fascist state, and you were frightened beyond belief that they would come and take away everything you love, take YOU away for the very act of remembering it. But the man you love tells you that love is enough; the memory of it means it still exists, after all. But for you, it doesn’t exist. And it isn’t enough. Those last three paragraphs are still echoing in my brain.
All of this book was a delightful, seasonally appropriate gift to read, but the last 2 chapters elevated it and made it really special to me. It would’ve been too easy to make this like many other children’s books, but the twinge of bittersweetness at the end made the coming-of-age narrative feel all the more real.
A twisty, engaging mystery with a killer twist that had me actually screaming at the pages. The ending felt a tad rushed, but the journey there was so good I can’t mind too much.
I really enjoyed this book, although the abrupt writing made it difficult to care as much about the later generations as I did about Sunja and her mother in the beginning. Clearly done by design, with a great amount of care and research done, and yet the book shone so brightly in the pre- and brief post-war eras.
Definitely my favourite of the series so far! Loved all the characters, although I am once again griping about the plot being deliberately hard to follow.
A doorstopper of a book, but one which I loved almost all the way through. Upsides: Shadow being divinely unflappable, Undead Laura, the gods themselves, Mr Wednesday being the max, tricksy bastard that he is. Downsides: Gaiman Being Weird About Women, the only two major female gods being different strains of fertility goddess, and of course, the fact that THERE IS NO GODDAMN WAR. I get subverting expectations — in fact I was kind of expecting it — but COME ON! Honestly, I kind of feel like the best parts — or at least the parts which shone the most — were the interludes of Shadow’s time in Lakeside. It reminded me of the best of Gaiman’s short stories, down to the twist at the end.
Holy shit, that ending. This was going to be a 3 star review, but the sheer balls of ending it that way — when up until the final ten pages, you think that perhaps things will work out differently — bumps this thriller up a whole star.
The characters are, if universally shallow, at least clearly well-drawn — although none so much as Lemoine, who isn’t burdened by having to be a moral agent. It would be glib to call this ‘Leftist Infighting: The Novel’, and yet it’s so easy to see the well-worn treads of online arguments reflected back up at you from the pages of this book — not just in the fight at the cafe in the beginning, but throughout Mira and Shelley’s power struggles, and the quiet tragedy of Tony’s journalistic ambitions.
More than anything else, this makes me want to reread The Luminaries, to get a greater appreciation of Catton’s work with adult eyes.
Absolutely masterful start to finish. The rabbit-lore of El-Ahrairah and his many adventures was so wonderfully atmospheric, combined with the thought and care that went into the language and inferiority of the rabbits — to say nothing of the plot itself. An absolute classic that I can’t believe I never read before now.
I’m in the unique position of having read an early draft of this book, many years ago, and getting to see it in its final form is so, so special.
I really enjoyed this book — the love story is sweet, the slow pace and atmosphere pitch-perfect. I’m a sucker for Canadians describing the deep impact the natural world has on their protagonists, and Jean’s remote cottage and bustling village life felt so real and vivid. Although the language barrier between Jean and Muirin does result in a slightly awkward ‘lore drop’ chapter towards the end of the book, it’s worth it to see a character otherwise made voiceless (both by the language barrier and her material circumstances) make her side of the story perfectly clear.
This is a perfect balm to a retelling of the same legend I read several years ago, which sided with the Tobias of its own story. Animal brides, and selkies specifically, are a favourite folk tale of mine, and I was so happy to see one with a queer twist; and multiple queer characters, at that! Is the epilogue a tad overdrawn with how happy it is? Perhaps, but with everything the girls went through and the historical setting, I really don’t find myself getting to annoyed at it. They certainly earned their happy ending.
In conclusion: I am proud to be the number one Tobias hater, and it’s memorialised forever in the author’s note. 🐐🦭🦊🌊