Review: The Hacienda

3 stars. There is some really great stuff here, especially for a debut. I believe it achieves what it sets out to do. I read it in two days, which says a lot about how compelling and concise it is. And, as so many others have mentioned, I would highly recommend it for fans of Rebecca and other gothic horrors of the like. Ultimately I think it lacks sharp edges, for me - or rather, its edges are too dull - but still. I liked it.

Young Beatriz, following the tragic destruction of her family amidst political unrest - finds a way out: marriage. She and her new husband travel to his home, Hacienda San Isidro, and she is determined to claim ownership of her new household and carve out a new life. Unfortunately, the Hacienda resists. Instead, Beatriz spends the nights terrified as the house threatens her with its destructive and horrifying secrets. 

My clumsy summary leaves out that this is really a sort of horror romance, not straight up horror. I loved its historical socio-political themes, and its depiction of Hacienda communities and the generational lore of the land, but there is also so. much. angst, which is not really my favorite (unless I'm reading romance). I also couldn't really distinguish either POV, and the twists were very predictable. 

Regardless, there should be more books like this. I really, really enjoyed Beatriz as a character - fierce AF. I enjoyed the spooky moments a LOT. I enjoyed the level of detail and apparent research that went into it. I enjoyed the very clear and obvious homages to various beloved gothic ghost stories. I do recommend it. 

The Hacienda on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: O Caledonia

5 stars. I hardly know what to say. Unusual, dark and deeply entertaining, O Caledonia needs to be more widely read and studied. It's one of those books that speaks loudly and deliberately about being a young woman - one of those books that offers many profound moments but few profound answers. A lot like life itself. I loved it. Would call it an after dinner drink to Jane Eyre, a cleanser to The Awakening, a complement to Rebecca.

Beginning and ending with her death, this book weaves together the childhood and adolescence of young Janet, woefully misunderstood in the Scottish countryside. Unable to embrace - and utterly repulsed by - the expectations of young women at the time, she finds comfort in solitude, animals and books. Though we are shown her clumsy coming-of-age and eventual demise with no mercy, the story itself is darkly funny, amusing and clever.

It's wonderful. I have so many questions. I would've loved to take a class on this and I hope it'll be added to every lit syllabus out there. Anyone need an idea for a term paper? I would've loved to dive into: her depth and intelligence as a supposed misfit; not just the nature of, not just the perpetrator of, but also the timing of her death (in her case, does falling in love = her fall of grace?); her family (odd, certainly not innocent, certainly as worthy of judgment at times as she is); her many classical references; her passions; her rejection of humanity; her gifts and failings and self-awareness... there are infinite avenues to explore, especially in a character study like this one.

The writing itself is brilliant. It's the perfect length. It's also well-paced, and full of entertaining episodes, all of them straight and to the point. I've seen a few others complain about an abrupt ending, but I found it appropriate. It's ironic at times, nasty at times, beautiful at others. Highly, highly recommend.

O Caledonia on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: Speaks the Nightbird (Matthew Corbett #1)

5 stars, but I would give this 10 if I could. This is by far one of the best books I've ever read. Most well-written, most enjoyable, most entertaining, most impressive, most well-plotted... it really tops the lists for all of those categories. It'll be in my best of the year list, and also my forever favorites. This is a must-read for fans of horror, historical fiction and immersive mysteries. It will keep even the most well-seasoned reader guessing and glued to the story. I cannot say enough good things. It bought me so much joy. 

Speaks the Nightbird takes place at the very end of the 1600s. The New World has been colonized but not conquered, as many new settlements struggle to prosper with so many threats: the climate, the soil, wild beasts, Indians... and most recently, the work of the devil. Fount Royal, the southernmost colony in the Carolinas, seems doomed to fail thanks to the curse of a witch, who allegedly murdered her husband (plus the town's reverend) and committed a few other delightfully unspeakable acts.

Having accused and jailed the witch but aware she is by law innocent until proven guilty, the town's founder sends for a magistrate from the nearby Charles Town to judge the case and provide sentencing, who arrives under somewhat unsteady circumstances with his trusted clerk, Matthew Corbett. And so we are off. 

Off on an investigation so twisty, so dark, so intense that maybe, like me, you'll need to put together a list of suspects on your phone and obsess over the details so you won't miss a single clue (“has a mysterious sack in his barn” really played out in a fun way eh?). Maybe you'll be compelled to discuss it at length with those around you because you can't stop thinking about the characters or the world or the answers to the many questions. Maybe you'll get a few things right, but likely you won't. It's genius in that way.

Matthew Corbett is a great, if somewhat unlucky, hero. Sort of... a Sherlock Holmes type with all the feeeeeeelings and frustrations and follies of being young (and in this case, in love). He is not perfect, nor is he your typical romantic alpha. And yet watching him basically fumble his way through this mystery was a wonderfully rich and sometimes humorous experience, because even as things went wrong at every turn, he stayed true to himself. I really look forward to continuing his journey.

I can't say I've ever, as an adult, been so transported by a book. It is written as though the author literally saw the events unfold before him and he transcribed them so smoothly and vividly I felt like I was there watching with him. (Speaking of, why??? how??? has this not been adapted yet?? HBO?!?!) It's a particular type of sustenance to the soul: like brain food, like a soak in a hot tub, like a hike or a drive when the leaves peak in Autumn, like a sip of expensive whiskey (or apple beer). This book made me fall in love with reading all over again.

Speaks the Nightbird on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: Ariadne

3 stars. I'm all over the place - I'm sure I enjoyed this book, and I big time appreciate the effort and the importance of twisting and retelling myths to reflect more inclusive perspectives. But I couldn't help but think almost immediately after starting Ariadne that this is a Madeline Miller wannabe, or a publisher's bid to capitalize on the success of her books.

Don't mistake me: this story is successful in its own right. The author is a tremendous writer, and I would compare her rich, flowery language to Miller's as a complete compliment. But Miller's stories have a point to them (beyond retelling with a twist) that felt missing here. While a story like this could only be inevitably bleak, any takeaways weren't crunchy or interesting enough for me. Women suffer at the hands of men. We know this and experience this and feel this in our souls every day. So I wouldn't agree with marketing this is a "feminist retelling." Her voice, as it is presented, isn't enough.

All that being said, this is a lush, captivating read. Great for fans of the myths or those who aren't as familiar. The descriptions of Crete, Athens, the Underworld, Naxos... the gods and goddesses are brought to life in really fun ways. I loved the focus on sisterhood - in all its beautiful, complicated, chaotic, painful glory. I loved that both Ariadne and Phaedra were intelligent and made independent choices despite truly having almost none, back then. The depiction of each of them as capable of both good and messy gave everything a refreshing flavor as it was meant to and may have been the point. Each of them had very different experiences and relationships with motherhood, another element reminiscent of Miller.

I liked it enough to try again with this author. There's nothing bad about it, it just didn't quite get there, for me. TWs for animal death, btw... not something I'd normally include but it's vivid enough here that I sort of have to. Also, I didn't realize how much season 2 of True Blood pulls from the lore, lol. Marianne was totally on that island at some point.

Ariadne on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: The Golden Wolf (The Golden Wolf Saga #3)

5 stars. This is officially one of my favorite trilogies of all time. I'm definitely, you know, into Vikings (and I've come at them from a couple different angles), but you wouldn't have to be to enjoy this intense, captivating story. These characters read as so real and layered and warm and earnest they feel like family. The women, especially, are wonderfully distinct from one another - mysterious and complex and intelligent and flawed as the women I've known in real life. (And the men... well, you know, are men lol.)

This is one of those stories that includes the big - the battles, the betrayals, the epic journeys - and the small - everyday chores, concerns, homely details. Don't go into it expecting a fight scene in every chapter; it's so much fuller and richer than that. You can definitely expect relationships to thicken and thin as time goes by, and a lot of time has gone by since Ragnvald became half-drowned. I think we all knew where this story was headed, but that makes it no less heartbreaking.

I have to say this might be my least favorite of the three, only because I hate goodbyes, and I never quite felt fully accustomed to new characters like Freydis and Einar. I almost felt more affection for Harald, who is so powerfully constant... and constantly powerful. Even Svanhild, though, who was my favorite character in the series, felt a little wrong here... stubborn in the wrong ways, I think. But I completely trust in the author's choices and admire the way she concluded these people's stories so much.

Oh man... I just love her writing so much. I hope she's working on a Part 2 or an equally immersive work of historical fiction. These books provided true escapes during truly hard times and I can't believe they're finished.

The Golden Wolf on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: Matrix

4 stars. Wow. What a gorgeous, breathtaking, handsome novel. Matrix is short but packs a huge, hefty punch. I thought Fates and Furies was just okay, although I noted in my review that I looked - still look - forward to seeing how it'll be studied for years to come. I liked this one much more. Lauren Groff braids three things - her incredible mastery of language, detail-rich research and an ability to articulate the squeezing, painful reality of being female - into one captivating strand of a story. She has written something akin to the Wolf Hall trilogy, but with no men; a sophisticated, emotional, accessible form of historical fiction that will enthrall and inspire readers... mothers and daughters and sisters especially. Again, no men. There isn't room for men in this story. It is full and rich and clean enough already without a dick spoiling the pot.

Matrix tells the story of Marie de France, unwanted child of royalty in the 12th century - as ungainly and awkward as she is intelligent and fierce. Sent by Queen Eleanor of Acquitane from France to an abbey in England, Marie must accept her new home, impoverished and uncomfortable as it is, and as acceptance takes hold, so too does ambition, and hunger, and interest, and a desire to improve not only her situation but the situation of those around her. As prioress she transforms the abbey not only into a powerful, groundbreaking institution but also a home for herself and others lost - a safe haven for women who otherwise would have no agency in a society designed to suppress them. Following her visions and desires, Marie finds love and success and above all a sense of identity and purpose rarely allowed for or wielded by women in history.

I found this to be a deeply moving, elegant story. Groff's research only elevated it, in my opinion - there's no showing off here, no distractions; only a graceful weaving of details that made things more interesting. Marie's character arc was masterfully done and believable, as were the arcs of her sisters. On a personal note, I could not be less religious, but I've found myself really attracted to convent life on more than one occasion (the routine, the simplicity, the hard work, the discipline, the common purpose) and this did nothing to dissuade me. That type of life, when chosen by the right person (emphasis on chosen) seems beautiful. I am of course looking at it through a distinctly modern lens... actually, let's avoid relativism for now. I'll argue with myself later.

A surprising page turner, considering its length. I highly recommend it. You know, being a woman... well, alive today, is desperately shitty. This book didn't make it any less shitty. But it added colors and layers to my lifelong quest to figure out what it means and how to live with it and how to manage the unbearable. Beyond worthwhile, for me.

Matrix on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: The North Water

5 stars. Fucking siiiiiiiccccckkkkkkkkkk. I was SO READY FOR THIS and it was SO READY FOR ME. The North Water is The Terror's shorter, dirtier, less detailed little brother (with fewer exhaustive lists of remaining supplies, I mean, but more whales), about a bunch of foolish men heading into the brutal north only to be devastated by nature in all its forms, including the natural proclivities of the men themselves. It's a survival story with threats of all shapes and sizes, external and internal, all of which feel interesting and inevitable. Nature always wins against the illusion of the advanced.

Our main character is Patrick Sumner, an Irish surgeon who was recently forced to leave the military after witnessing and experiencing some truly horrifying and violent events in India. Haunted by his past, addicted to opium and ultimately directionless, he decides to join a crew of whalers and serve as ship surgeon for the Volunteer. But not all is as it seems on this voyage, from the route to the cargo to the men who crew it. As the weather and conditions deteriorate, so does his hold on civilization itself.

I'M SO EXCITED TO TALK ABOUT THIS BOOK. Okay, first of all - this is about as gritty, dark and depressing as they come. From the premise to the details to the word choice ("khaki phlegm" comes to mind, as does "squirts of shit" and "unspeakable rectal oozings of a human corpse..." yummy), The North Water is absolutely relentless with the violence, gore and bodily fluids. I could put a trigger warning on every page, and animal lovers should especially be warned.

But it's not ONLY blood, guts and shit... there are also a lot of subtle and not-so-subtle philosophical musings and conversations about instinct, morals, ambition, action, obligation, and man's place in the world. Sumner spends most of the book reacting to the extreme evil he experiences and witnesses firsthand, trying and failing to reconcile it with the world and the life he expected for himself. It's frightening and heartbreaking and ultimately really beautiful, in the way his story turns out.

“It is a grave mistake to think too much, he reminds himself, a grave mistake. Life will not be puzzled out, or blathered into submission; it must be lived through, survived, in whatever fashion a man can manage."

And then there's Henry Drax, who has only a little bit of page time but enough stage presence to chew up everyone else entirely. He is not scary because he is a murderer, exactly, it's more because he is truly feral - he exists in a space without morals or laws or consideration. He just floats on his dark instincts and tendencies, with no thought for consequence other than the hunt, delivering pain, and self-preservation. He doesn't even go to any lengths to hide his crimes, like Ted Bundy on his final spree. Away with the charm and the sidesteps and the denials, onward with causing as much destruction as humanly possible.

I was especially blown away by the ending. I was really holding my breath, there, as everything came to a head, and I'm happy to say I could let it out with absolute satisfaction after reading the final line. Men and animals, indeed. All in all, an incredible read for fans of gritlit and horror and books in which Women Are Not a Thing lol. Very excited to check out the adaptation soon.

The North Water on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: The Vanishing Half

3 stars. What can I say about this that hasn't already been said, more eloquently than I ever could? The Vanishing Half is another must-read from this author, a compelling study of race, family, and identity. Twins Stella and Desiree were born in a small town meant for light-skinned black people, and both of them carry this with them through their upbringing, adolescence, and eventual adulthood, veering in opposite directions until separate from each other, forging different lives. Their daughters, born into different worlds, bounce around each other through happenstance, tightening the tapestry's weave until a full and colorful picture emerges. It's thought-provoking, beautiful, and interesting.

I love Brit Bennett's writing. She takes these huge, thorny themes and writes about them with such ease. The Vanishing Half is so smooth, so flowy, it's almost a trick. I really rooted for her true and distinct characters, occasionally insufferable in understandable ways, as we all are. The way she writes about place, too, felt absolutely crucial to the story's success, from sunny L.A. to cold New York to the small town vibes in Mallard, Louisiana. These details and others, like the glimpses into drag shows and musical theater and medical school, make the snapshots of each arc even more vivid and bright.

Books like this are truly humbling and important. It's probable that I'm deeply underread, but I don't think I've encountered a book that so clearly and plainly explores the ties between race and family. Bennett is certainly not the first - and there were times I honestly felt like The Vanishing Half was a little referential - but that's where she stuck the pin for this one, and it really worked. I have my own thoughts about blood ties, kin, family, however you want to say it, but there's no doubt it does shape your identity, stamping you visibly or invisibly in ways that will never wear off.

So, why 3 stars? I loved the subject matter, the plot, the characters, the ending, the writing style ... but for me, it really came down to my personal reading experience. I dragged my heels a bit, losing interest halfway through. Bennett also tip-toes around using a device she used in The Mothers, writing as a sort of collective voice on behalf of a small town. That sort of thing is not for me, as a preference. I want to be clear though that I'm RECOMMENDING THIS, because it is masterful and worth studying and worth considering long after you finish it.

The Vanishing Half on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: Plain Bad Heroines

3 stars. Inn-turr-ess-tinggg. I'm thrown. I didn't hate this, don't worry, but something about it was, well, excruciatingly annoying to me. Between the quirky footnotes, the flashbacks, the lack of horror, the sheer wordiness of it all... plus, character access felt shallow; toe-deep, and the viewfinder felt off-kilter, like we could only see one corner of the full picture, or we could only look at it sideways.

The whole thing just didn't come together in the right way, for me. And it's very possible that it all just went over my head, too.

Story 1: Present. Three young women, two actresses and an author, are brought together to make a movie about Story 2.

Story 2: Early 1900s. Three young women die under mysterious circumstances (two stung by a swarm of yellow jackets; one ate poisonous flowers) at a school for girls in Rhode Island, and the principal must deal with the aftermath.

Our questions: did something sinister lead to their deaths? Why do strange and unusual things still happen on the school's land? How will they make a movie about its hauntings, despite its hauntings? And WTF does Mary MacLane have to do with it, other than connecting all the main characters and being kind of an original badass herself?

And also, in addition to being about all that, it's about women in love with each other and the many different colors of being queer. Which is wonderful.

But back to that sideways viewfinder. Maybe it was sideways, maybe it was foggy. I just couldn’t bring it into focus. I just couldn’t figure out what I was looking at. Carefully built momentum took me nowhere. Deep dives seemed pointless. The author led us down rabbit holes that didn't seem relevant or resolved. It's full of excellent moments, for sure, but the connective tissue just wasn't strong enough, for me. I hate to say it, because this mood board has almost everything I love on it - it's just, when I step back and look at it as a whole, it's a mess.

And back to that shallow character access. Especially in Story 1, I never really got to know the three girls. For real, deep down. The narrator (anonymous? Did I miss something?) tells - it's very tell-y - a lot about their actions and thoughts but they somehow still seemed so ... flat.

Finally, though this is marketed as horror, it doesn't really hit in a scary way. There are creepy moments, and a lot of meta-exposition on the academia of horror (which I admittedly loved), but no true frightening moments. I couldn't even really tell if the stakes were that high, honestly. And the climax proved, unfortunately, that they weren't, canceling any delicious dread I felt as the mystery unfolded.

So there it is. No regrets, truthfully, because I was absolutely picking up what it was putting down about queerness and queer history and I loved the gothic tropes and the themes. And I can't rate this any lower because it is truly impressive and ambitious and like I said above, it's possible it just went right over my head. I would LOVE for someone to convince me what I missed and what it’s all about and why I should LOVE it. But here we are. Thanks for listening, anyway.

Plain Bad Heroines on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: The Sea Queen (The Golden Wolf Saga #2)

5 stars. A very worthy sequel / trilogy bridge that took me for.ever. to read because ... well, everything. But I didn't give up and I'm so, so incredibly glad for that. This type of writing - the language of this story - is so unique and crunchy I think I'll miss it and return in the future. I mentioned this in my review of the first book, but there is true escapism here, even if it offers escape into a super brutal, ugly world full of pain and death and bloodshed.

In The Sea Queen we continue to watch the rise of Harald Fairhair, conqueror of Norway, through the eyes of his capable sworn warrior Ragnvald and his headstrong sister Svanhild. The quest for a unified land is complicated, however, by growing political and martial threats, throwing confusion and pressure onto seemingly strong alliances. It's a story both vast and vastly personal that offers a unique and emotional window into a very interesting, and very treacherous, time in Scandinavian history.

What makes this series so refreshing:

- Characters second guess themselves and change their minds all the time based on shifting circumstances and revelations. This makes their actions much more believable and grounded.

- The interconnected webs of romance and sex. This story has positive depictions of non-monogamy all over the place; women who experience desire and are direct about it; men and women who circle around each other and recognize that lust comes and goes. The different types of lust, even. Lust as power and lust as comfort and lust as distraction. The phases.

“It was pleasant, to be desired by this beautiful giant, and when they tired of each other, she would have wealth, and every freedom except taking another man to her bed.”

I don't know much about what social sex was like during Viking times, but I know a little about human nature, and this stuff (especially the stuff from Svanhild’s perspective) rang true to me - told so directly and matter-of-factly because the author's setting allows it (especially compared to, say, a contemporary setting). This isn't a romance, don't worry, even though in an interview the author expressed her interest in exploring different types of long term relationships. It's just strange sometimes what aspects of a book stand out even when it's truly not the point of the book at all.

- Impressive details, but not too many details. Irish whiskey makes an appearance, as a little treat, but it is not the point of the scene nor is it there to prove the author's ability to research and write with accuracy. The accuracy is apparent in her storytelling, not her info dumping or lack thereof.

- A badass, fierce, believable female action hero.

I believe I mentioned this in my review of The Half-Drowned King, but I think it's worth saying again that the comp titles here are a bit off. This is an epic trilogy of historical fiction but it is NOT ASOIAF, nor is it the Outlander books, nor would it be for fans of action-packed military fantasies, though I love those myself. This is for readers interested in something deeper and warmer and slower, something super immersive and thorough and focused on the intimacy and dialogue of politics. It's totally its own thing, and for that reason these stories will live in a special place in my heart for years to come.

On to the final chapter (with dread).

The Sea Queen on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads