Review: In the House in the Dark of the Woods

3 stars. Not what I was expecting at all, even though I knew to expect something strange and far out there! As best as a summary as I can manage: a woman heads into the forest to pick berries for her family, gets lost, goes missing. She then has a long series of very unusual, enchanting, mysterious, almost magical encounters with those who dwell in the woods and finds herself trapped - or perhaps flings herself willingly - into a cycle where her choices will impact far more than her quest to return home.

1 star for slaying a style of writing I've never really encountered before: not only was it very different and unusual, but it was good and beautiful and refreshing. Not different for the sake of being different. Different because it lent to the setting, the voice, the tone, the narrative itself. It further distinguished the book as its own thing - see below. 

1 star for the setting. I'm such a sucker for Colonial horror, especially with witches and crackling fires and magic herbs and fouled wells and berries with cream and bonnets and religious fervor and the decidedly male determination to conquer what is wild and shouldn't be tamed. Take the movie The Witch, turn it inside out, then tip it sideways and then zoom out - this is the type of story you'll find.

1 star for being completely untethered. I considered docking a star for this, but I've so rarely encountered a story that doesn't really reference, or connect, to anything familiar (and boy oh boy did my brain try - over and over again to grasp at whatever it could) that I can't help but admire it. Aside from the most prival (primeval) tropes, like the evil in the woods, and maybe a few lessons about consequences and making promises, this is truly its own thing.

I think maybe I'll remember this story by its moments - by its individual threads versus the whole tapestry. The blurb uses the word "ingenious" and I don't think that's wrong... but it's maybe a little too ingenious, for me. Reminds me of something almost academic. But I truly respect it. And I would like to read more by this author. I might even re-read this one, if I feel like a rabbit hole again.

In the House of the Dark of the Woods on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: The Pale Blue Eye

5 stars. WOW WOW WOW. Believe it or not, this was a re-read. I specifically remember pulling it off the shelf at the library when I must have been - oh, maybe 15 (?!). I was a huge fan of mysteries and of Poe, already reading way above YA-level, so I must've been interested, until I apparently read it, immediately forgot all of it, and then randomly rated it 2 stars on GR years later. A bit ironic, considering I'd now call it unforgettable.

In the early days of West Point Academy, when even the existence of America's military fluctuates based on politics and opinion, a tragedy has occurred: the death of a cadet. Retired constable Gus Landor is pulled away from his isolated farm to investigate the horrific mutilation of the body, and must enlist the services of a cadet - a young poet named Edgar Allen Poe - for assistance. With few leads and many suspects, the two forge a strong friendship despite, or because of, the strange darkness of the crimes they seek to solve.

This is a deeply engrossing, atmospheric, Gothic-adjacent piece of historical fiction. I was immediately charmed by its tone of voice - both tones of voice - and the wry humor threading its way through the suspense and intrigue. It was easy going, because I was very interested, but it also had me flexing some muscles I gained as an English Lit major I haven't used in a long time. Speaking of which, this book should absolutely be studied.

I should mention that my opinion of this around the 75% mark was different. I thought everything was a bit too obvious, the villain too predictable, the second half draggy, and that our detective didn't even do that much, well, detecting. But I shouldn't have doubted: the storyteller lands the plane with an incredibly satisfying, thrilling, thump to the ground. I am a little bit in awe.

Is it perfect? Of course not. Every now and then I found myself laughing, unsure if I was laughing with the author or at him. That wry humor could've easily veered into an obnoxious pretentiousness - Bayard is obviously incredibly talented, and knows it. And yes, I think maybe the twist will piss off some readers, if they make it there. Cartoonish? It's something. But I, going on gut alone, think Poe would have approved. Does it all make sense? Does it track perfectly? Does it matter?

I would've liked to spend more time with Landor and Poe. They felt like family, by the end... forgivable of their flaws, perhaps even honorable because of them. But there couldn't, or shouldn't, be a second team-up, it would be impossible and cheaply composed and contrary to the corner of this story that is tragic. Another re-read, then, in the future, when I've again forgotten the twists and turns - or maybe when I haven't, and can read it with a sneakier eye. 

The Pale Blue Eye on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: Company of Liars

4 stars. I hate to say it, but this book should also be classified as horror. It's one of the most bleak, disturbing pieces of historical fiction I've ever encountered. I truly did enjoy myself - I was completely transported - but damn. I'm not sure what sort of ending I was expecting, but I didn't think its final wink would be so sinister. Chilled my bones.

It's been years since I've read Chaucer's Tales, but apparently this is a "reimagining" - go in expecting a noisy party full of distinct characters, dramatic episodes and dark fairy tales. Quite a bit of research went into this, the resulting details of which I appreciated very much. It takes place during England's Plague Years and the setting is illustrated accordingly. Nine travelers, whether by fate or circumstance, come together and embark on a journey to escape the pestilence, and perhaps also escape the consequences of certain actions. 

From a technical standpoint, this book has some clumsy exposition. Minor, random characters who give oddly long speeches just to add some context or worldbuilding, stuff like that. Primary characters who also give oddly long speeches only to reiterate what has already been shown, or told, to us as readers. 

Along those lines, this book is very, very long. I truly can't decide if it needs editing or if it successfully paints the quiet moments as well as the loud ones. Still, it takes its sweet time and meanders a bit in places. Clearly the author adores her characters and relishes every single visit with them... and expects the reader to do the same. What's the word I'm looking for? Self-indulgent, though that seems a little harsh. 

This book also telegraphs its punches. I am legitimately unsure if the various twists, turns and secrets were meant to be predictable or not. The clues are very obvious but the reveals (except for the final one) are treated with such surprise vibes! Coupled with the meandering length, this did give me slight "get on with it" vibes.

All that aside, I highly, highly, highly recommend. This is a thought-provoking tale with a lot to unpack. There's a heavy, heavy sense of dread related to the plague, to which I think we can all relate at this point, and also related to... individual morality, mortality, personal justice, desire, conformity, penance, sin, shame, regret, impulse, righteousness, greed, God, man, the sanctity of the soul... the world is a very dark place and we make it darker for ourselves. We fight many, many battles during life but the hardest are the ones we fight against, and within, ourselves. 

Bleak, I warned you! However, while there may not be hope for humanity as a whole (as emphasized explicitly by this book), we can find evidence of warmth, kindness and contentment in tiny moments every now and then. Maybe in a warm meal or a cold beer. Maybe in songs or stories like this one. I encourage anyone interested to check out as many reviews as possible, as many readers more intelligent than I have written about this book from wiser perspectives. FWIW, I'll probably return to it again in the future.

Company of Liars on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

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