Review: The Burning God (The Poppy War #3)

3 stars. Oh god, summarizing this is going to be impossible. Ermm, okay. Freshly recovered (sort of) from the betrayal, heartbreak and violence of her failed tour with the Dragon Republic, Rin faces ... well, more betrayal, heartbreak and violence on her quest to unite the Nikara Empire against threats both foreign and domestic (heh). Unsure who to trust or where to go, she utilizes the intense power of the original shaman rulers, the blind obedience of the people from her Southern home and her own hungry, vengeful, trauma-laden instincts to ensure survival for herself and for her people.

Don't hate me. It is what it is. I absolutely adore R.F. Kuang and hold her in the highest regard. Her writing is spectacular and she's so talented - her intellect is obviously very high and I can't wait to read what she does next. I admire what she's done here - channeled buckets of Chinese history and lore and context into a story for readers like myself who shamefully know so little about it. She's carved a space for herself in an impossibly small and impossibly male group of military fantasy writers. She has unlocked so much about what the standard trilogy could look like. She's wonderful.

But for most of this book I lost a level of investment in reading and felt ... almost ... bored? I mean for all the battles and bloody mysteries and character revelations, I dragged my feet to pick it up. Which I think came down to this: Why? And after surviving multiple wars, calling a god, committing genocide, and switching allegiances multiple times, what exactly does Rin want? Does she want to rule? Does she REALLY? Does she really want to forge peace? She wants to be part of the action, of course, but I had a hard time following her true, long-term motives. She's always being sent here or carried there or going somewhere on an episodic rescue mission. Her loyalties always seem to be to people, or power, or petty "sides" that are ultimately arbitrary. Never goals or even, like, an end game. An end to the journey.

And maybe that's partly the point. Maybe I missed my cues due to lack of focus and energy because, lol, 2021. Maybe she's meant to be a little untethered, a little destined to make bad choices. Maybe she can't see beyond a single day of survival for herself and her friends because she's walking around with so much trauma and baggage. Maybe I'm reading this with a decidedly Western perspective. And also she's what, 20 years old? I get that she's meant to be an unlikeable, untraditional, impulsive, blood-driven, power-hungry, brutal protagonist. But for most of The Burning God I was totally adrift with her, and not in a good way. I just ... burned out. No pun intended. I truly expected to want to live and breathe these characters for one final act. Instead I basically skimmed, wondering - again - why and also get on with it.

So, only a 3-star read for me.

A couple of other things:

• The ending was perfect in premise, abrupt in execution.

• I really missed in The Burning God the deep exploration of the gods and the pantheon and shamanism in general. This was prevalent in the first book, a subplot in the second, and barely part of the third. The only part where I really perked up is when Rin trained the new shamans.

• I really loved this: amateurs obsess over strategy, professionals obsess over logistics.

• Kuang asks a lot of her readers (IMHO) in terms of the various multiple names for people and places. I relied on the map a ton and am still a little unclear on who is who in the Trifecta and that whole history.

• The Hesperians storyline is brilliant. Kuang demonstrates a unique if not super unveiled way of writing about colonialism, and for the most part it's successful. Petra's ending was ... delicious.

• This is going to make an absolutely excellent TV series. It's practically ready for adaptation. I'm in. All the way.

The Burning God on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: The Dragon Republic (The Poppy War #2)

4 stars. Really, really impressed with this as a follow-up to The Poppy War. Not that she needs to hear it from me, but R.F. Kuang has officially burned down what fantasy should and could be and replaced it with something intellectual, entertaining, brutal and beautiful. This trilogy (final opinion pending) is a must-read for a wide audience and deserves the title of Epic in every definition of the word.

The Dragon Republic opens after battle, but for Rin the war is far from over. She is a shaman, and she is heartbroken by the loss of her kin, and she turns to drugs to cope. Lost in her personal trauma, she and her fellow shaman warriors side with the Dragon Warlord in an attempt to find purpose again, to bring stability to Nikan, and for revenge. They ride to conquest but she soon realizes that almost everything she thought she knew - about magic, about war, about politics, about her god - is far more complicated than she realized.

Unlike The Poppy War, which has two clearly defined narrative arcs, The Dragon Republic is essentially a collection of episodes. Rin goes through so many ups and downs it's almost hard to keep track; thankfully, each experience and revelation informs her character and moves the big plot forward. She does not bounce back so easily, mentally, which is refreshing and I appreciate her understandable mistakes. As the lens widens, so too does her confusion about context and what is good vs evil. Rin's identity and sense of self is central to this story's spiral and I look forward to unwinding it further.

Speaking of the widening lens - the worldbuilding, which happens almost literally as the landscape in question is open for grabs - is incredible here. Not just complex in all the right ways, but complex in a way that is within reach. That's part of what makes military fantasy successful, IMHO - letting the reader see the map. There are so many components to this story but I never felt overwhelmed.

I would say too that this could've been shorter, though I understand why Kuang wrote it the way she did. There's a lot of arguing about politics, and some threads that perhaps did not need to be pulled, which is why I docked a star. But the third book could change my mind. It probably will.

Fuck me up, Kuang. You know you want to.

The Dragon Republic on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: The Good Lord Bird

4 stars. Wow, this was a lot. In a good way. James McBride is so, so talented and clever and focused in a way I haven't seen in historical fiction recently. I really look forward to reflecting on the story and the characters as they are memorable and interesting and admirable in totally misguided ways.

I hate and love that history is so fickle and yet also the guidebook by which we should move forward. History is muddled and vague and written by the winners and therefore we as a species will never truly learn from it. So we should use tools like contemporary, perspective-shifting books like this to educate us and show us the way.

The Good Lord Bird is about a young boy named Henry, who in 1857 is kidnapped by the infamous abolitionist John Brown after the death of his father. Brown mistakes Henry to be a girl, and Henry rolls with it to survive. He accompanies Brown on many journeys and supports his quest to eradicate slavery in his own way, experiencing several adventures - or misadventures - until Brown's doomed raid on Harper's Ferry ends the journey.

It's a classic "famous story told by the unfamous tagalong" book, this time rightly weighted with a deep emphasis on racism, slavery, and power in pre-Civil War America. How do we fully acknowledge the cruel trauma of our own history? How do we acknowledge that we argued over this undeniable crime? How do we acknowledge the motives and complexities of behavior and pure mistakes exhibited on both sides? How do we acknowledge good intentions when they are wielded by someone wrong for the job? How do we acknowledge that, in this story and many others, there are rarely winners or losers and only survivors or victims?

These questions plus many others are wrapped in this book's witty, enticing narrative. The writing is quick and sharp, laugh-out-loud funny at some moments and truly heart wrenching in others. I hope it is widely read by individuals and in classrooms and book clubs, because this is the type of book that should be taught, examined and discussed at length. Entertaining, impressive, important.

The Good Lord Bird on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: Flyaway

3 stars. A tasty mix of Shirley Jackson with a pinch of Elmet. This story feels timeless - and by that I mean the time period is rarely marked. You feel like you could be reading about something that happened yesterday or eighty years ago. The uncanny sensation is just one component of this eerie stew of folklore and gothic imagery, a patchwork puzzle about one young woman's quest to capture even a slight impression of her true identity.

To summarize would be difficult and spoilery, so I'll just say that Flyaway is about Bettina Scott, a 19-year-old outcast, who lives with her proper mother in a small town in Queensland. She receives a letter from her missing brother that triggers something deep down under what we know to be a subdued and stifled personality. Unable to shake the implications of the letter and the mystery of her core identity, Bettina ... well ... dives into a rabbit hole and finds some monsters there instead.

It's a fever dream of a short book; a collection of strong scary stories that almost seem familiar, containing fairy tale elements with a cautionary edge. I'm fascinated by the perspective - at times it feels like we are looking at a very, very small corner of a giant tapestry. Questions and answers seem irrelevant and action rarely has the consequences we expect. It's trippy and confusing and absolutely gorgeous in its own way.

Unfortunately I just wasn't in the mood today. I had trouble concentrating and keeping a grip on the thread. The disjointed narrative felt jarring in a confusing way versus a subversive or interesting way. And I didn't feel a strong connection to any character or element of the story, leading to a 3-star rating. That being said, fans of horror, literary fiction and gothic literature should ABSOLUTELY read this. It's spectacular, just not a good fit for me (right now). Can't wait to see where this talented author goes next.

Flyaway on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: A Deadly Education (The Scholomance #1)

2 stars. Hahahahaha. Okay. An education INDEED. I am honestly so sorry - I tried to like this. I really did. I had heard that it's supposed to be like a sort of warped HP from Hermione's perspective with a lot more violence and death. And it was, I guess. But this damn book seemed designed for me to hate - full of a bunch of personal pet peeves that I just couldn’t get over.

But first: The Controversy. I did some research before starting to read, trying to get some clarity on the accusations and the reasons why it's being called racist. And I think I understand. Some of the language choices in this book come across as clinical and forced and ignorant. I'll be the first to cry "depiction is not endorsement," (or in other words - the character thinks this, but does the author?) but to be honest I don't even feel like I should weigh in. Please know that I tried to read this with a critical eye and an open mind and a determination to use it as an opportunity to learn - if not on what to do, at the very least on what not to do. I see why readers were offended. I also see why the author made the choices she did.

Okay. A Deadly Education is about a teenage girl named Galadriel, a student at a violent and terrifying magical school called the Scholomance. The Scholomance houses and teaches magic-wiedling young people how to hone their craft while being threatened - constantly and to the death - by evil monsters lurking in the walls and the dark corners of their home. El gets a bit tangled up socially with the school hero, Orion Lake, and has to navigate the typical minefields of being an adolescent (puberty, cafeteria politics, academic competition) while, well, trying to stay alive in an environment that's trying to kill her before graduation.

Oh, man. Okay. Again, I apologize. I really did try. But when I hit 86% and I found myself skimming?! Forget about it. I can tell Naomi Novik really, really loved her own idea and dug deep. I get it. But I feel like I have to catalogue why this didn't work for me, even though it feels kind of gross to do so, because I just know there are readers out there who have the same cringe triggers as me (if they aren't put off by all the well-deserved dramatic conversation surrounding this book in the first place):

First - the British slang and mannerisms. It's a bit difficult to explain, but they didn't fit right here. Every time I came across one ("git" "scanner" etc.) they seemed cute-in-a-bad-way, out-of-place, and forced.

Second - Orion. I am on a lifelong quest to find a well-written teenage boy - or at the very least, a teenage boy character that resembles even just one of the teenage boys I have actually known in real life. My quest continues.

Third - the use of the name Galadriel and the LOTR references. This is a personal thing for me (I told you these were pet peeves!). LOTR is so sacred to me it honestly felt ... weird. When El started randomly referencing her name and the movies and ... something about this just seemed really off. Like a wink or a nod that was TOTALLY unnecessary.

Fourth - the exposition! The info dumping! ARGHHHH! I initially thought the first chapter would be the heaviest - full of explanations and terminology and rule-dropping - but NO! This type of writing - "educating the reader as we go along with the story" - continues for the rest of the damn. book. I'm talking about a new character/concept (the valedictorian thing) in the FINAL PAGES OF THE BOOK. The action itself, if we removed all the lecturing, would probably be about five pages long. I'M SERIOUS. If you are in the mood to be TAUGHT a CONCEPT, rather than READ a STORY, this book might be for you.

Fifth - wayyyy too much emphasis on cafeteria tables. I went through that in middle school and I have no desire to enter into any intense consideration of that sort of thing ever, ever, ever again in my life.

I will say: it's a fascinating, complex concept. And Naomi Novik does a great job of subverting tropes and creating delightfully stubborn, fierce, powerful female protagonist. El's overall feistiness was truly appreciated. I'll give her that. I also think more books - especially YA books - should so blatantly explore and address issues like inequality and economic status quo. I know it's a hot topic word, but there is a lot about privilege and its advantages.

I'm bummed though, dude. I really am. It was just a 2-star read for me.

A Deadly Education on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: The Ruins

5 stars. FUCKING BRUTAL. And I fucking loved it. I have to say, this is an absolutely brilliant piece of horror. To develop the idea for this story, plot it out, and then fall into the right headspace to write it must have been absolute torture. Sure there's a level of predictability, but it's employed really well, like the meta moments strewn throughout the tropes. It's deeply disturbing and I am in awe.

The Ruins is about two couples who, while vacationing in Mexico, decide as a sort of adventure to help a new German friend find his missing brother. Accompanied by another new friend (a Greek man who speaks no English), the group ventures deep into the jungle to find the guy with varying levels of enthusiasm. It's hot, it's buggy, it's muddy, and by the time they reach what appears to be their destination, a sense of dread and discomfort permeates the group. Something is very wrong in this part of the jungle, and now the locals won't let them leave.

I've seen this book described as survival horror, but I'm not sure it fits so squarely under that umbrella. Ultimately it is about survival, and there are enough anxious parts about finding water and food rationing to satisfy even the most academic reader. But there is another evil central to the story - an unnatural, malevolent force - that threatens them in sadistic, horrifying, almost playful ways. That's true horror right there. That's a monster. To have this force play with and off of the natural attempts to survive exposure is breathtaking. No complaints about the villain.

Along the lines of survival: I have to say, I've read (and watched) horror all my life and I've never really contemplated my own mortality in ways that this book inspired. I think it's mostly due to context (2020, heavily associated with death) and some recent news that sent me spinning a bit, and maybe my own experiences traveling, but man, some of these passages punched me right in the existential feels. You’ve been warned. But for me, no complaints about the triggers.

I have seen other reviews touch on the fact that these characters may or may not be one-dimensional, idiotic, not worth rooting for; may or may not even be likeable. Did I feel annoyed with them, at times? OH MY GOD YES. Did I want to yell at them? PUT DOWN THAT WATER, AMY. Did I want a little more complexity beneath all the hand-wringing and tequila slinging? I FEEL LIKE MATHIAS WAS HOT. HE WAS HOT, RIGHT? But at the end of the day it didn't matter, it didn't impact my reading experience negatively. I thought each character's arc was actually really well-planned and well-written. And so, no complaints about the characters.

I know I fucking drone on about Stephen King all the time and I'm constantly comparing other authors to him and blah blah blah. I'm sorry! I can't help it. But trust me when I say this: The Ruins will appeal to readers who enjoy King. It's that good and Scott Smith is that talented. I can see why it's considered a classic.

And now I'm going to go take a big ol’ shower.

The Ruins on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: Piranesi

5 stars. All the stars. Favorite read of 2020. Piranesi will be etched in my mind forever as a book that feels written For Me. Beautiful, strange, special. Those are the words that come to mind but there's so much to think about and so much to unpack - how on earth can I process it all?! I checked it out from the library but will be buying it immediately so I can return to the Halls as often as possible. Daily, maybe. For comfort.

Piranesi is a collection of journal entries written by an unknown and unnamed narrator who inhabits a labyrinthian world of connected classical buildings full of statues. He shares this world with no other people - just the ocean, amiable flocks of birds, and the remains of those who traveled there before him. He seeks to catalogue the world, tracking the tides of the ocean and mapping the halls and their statues. He receives regular visits from another man he calls the Other - a man who seeks a Great Knowledge within the world. And he begins to realize, slowly, that there is more beyond his world. More than he ever could have possibly imagined.

I keep considering Annihilation as a suitable comparison - both feature deeply academic minds (systematic thinkers) as protagonists, both feature mindbending, metaphysical mysteries, both have become infinitely special to me. I appreciate books about people who must work hard to fit; people who try and try to fit and don't and eventually discover that the fact that they don’t allows them to navigate impossible - and I mean impossible - situations. I love these characters. They are my tribe.

Clarke's aesthetics, her visuals and imagery and descriptions of the statues, were shots straight to my art-starved heart. I certainly didn't expect to miss museums so much during the Terrors of 2020 - not just the museums themselves, but the specific experiences and memories of visiting them, walking around, feeling weightless and soothed by the art around me (ex-art history student, lol). I realize Piranesi's world is NOT a museum, exactly, but the sisterly concept made my soul ache all the same. Some of the passages about how the narrator turns to the statues for comfort, knowledge, protection, with so much reverence and respect ... are absolutely lovely.

Are there lessons here? Probably - definitely. For such a little book, Piranesi explores big stuff like identity, academic pursuit, ego, humanity, survival, resilience, fear, deception, friendship, memory and kindness. Moments, such as when Piranesi sacrifices three days of fuel to help an albatross build a nest, will stick with me forever. The contrast between the interactions Piranesi has with the Other and then with 16 (trying to avoid spoilers) says so much about intention and empathy. It hurts but it feels good.

So much about me!! Ugh. This is turning into a response/reaction, not a review. Plot-wise, story-wise though, Piranesi is a work of genius. We as readers are dropped into something so strange it should be too much - but it isn't. Clarke never, ever asks too much of the reader, and the way she drops little hints and clues and glimpses of the bigger picture is brilliant. The pacing is perfect. The unspooling of this thread is incredible. This should be studied. Which it will, by me. A lot.

Piranesi on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: The Queen of Nothing (The Folk of the Air #3)

3 stars. I KNOW! KILL ME! But before I go further I feel like I should expand on a couple of things: first, I don't like endings. I naturally dislike them. I don't know why! I just prefer beginnings. Second, I don't like it when sexual tension is ... well ... resolved. There's a reason I started hating The Office when Pam and Jim got together. I like banter! I like angst! I'll take a cruel bully over a lovesick puppy! (What is wrong with me?) So I'm giving this a lower rating because honestly - it would have never been my favorite to begin with. It's a me thing, not an author thing, not a story thing, not a writing thing.

That being said, more objectively, this may have been a little weaker by way of plot. I missed the fierce excitement of the first two, and I missed the nastiness. There wasn't enough bite. I loved the icky cliffhanger of the second book - actually, I'm not going to summarize because I want to avoid spoilers - but I was hoping that it would take a bit more rock'n'roll for Jude to get herself out of that one. Cardan's transformation over these three books seemed a little too smooth for my taste. And the ending?! Would you like some crackers with that cheese?!

Otherwise, WOW. What an accomplishment! This series is awesome, compelling, addictive, well-written, and FUN. Holly Black wrapped things up super suitably, throwing out credible and interesting character developments like confetti. I really, really loved the way Jude learned her lessons without sacrificing the core of her identity. I can see why so many readers connected with her and stand behind her - in fact, I can see why this series inspired such a passionate fanbase (which says a lot, coming from someone who is mostly disgruntled about fanbases).

Worth the time and the effort and then some. And I managed to finish another series just before the end of the year, per my mostly-failed reading challenge. Go me.

The Queen of Nothing on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: The Wicked King (The Folk of the Air #2)

4 stars. Delighted to find that Holly Black really settled into the storytelling in this book. It's more sophisticated than the first and brilliant as a trilogy bridge. There's more self-awareness from the writing and from the characters themselves. Happy to say I really enjoyed my return visit to Trope City. There's more faerie politics! More intrigue! More romance! More murder! So fun.

The Wicked King picks up where The Cruel Prince left off, with Cardan on the throne and Jude by his side as his "counselor," aka, ruler of the kingdom (not a spoiler). But, like, there's so much trouble afoot - family drama, and upcoming wedding, threats from old villains seeking revenge, and dangerous alliances that could lead to outright war.

One of my favorite aspects of Jude's character and her journey is her struggle with herself - her regret, her guilt, her awareness of her own poor decision-making - the arrogant and power-hungry aspects of her identity. In fact, I loved the level of self-loathing among a few of the characters. I also really appreciate her relationship with her guardian/second father, which is complicated and messy and blurs the line between love and hate (it's a thing, okay?! And no, I don't mean "hate-to-love," lol).

Also worth noting: Jude's appearance is barely described. It's not how she measures her self-worth, nor how she is judged. These books are unapologetic about things like sex and nudity - focusing less on moral judgments and more on advancement of character. It's a fascinating way to write YA and is clearly done well here, so I hope there's more books like this to come!

Immersive and captivating don't even begin to cover it. More sophisticated than the first and just as entertaining.

The Wicked King on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: The Cruel Prince (The Folk of the Air #1)

4 stars. Okay, I can see why readers love this series. I haven't picked up a YA fantasy in ages and I have to say, the dress (described in exquisite detail, of course, typically pastel or ombre with delicate embellishments that compliment my eyes), still fits. I really enjoyed it. Perfect? Far from it. But it read nicely and was utterly compelling from a sugary, just-one-more-bite kind of way.

For those of you on Goodreads who have miraculously missed the prevalence of this book, The Cruel Prince is about a mortal girl named Jude, who, after the brutal murder of her parents (not a spoiler), is raised in the land of faeries. Her guardian is a war general for the king, who plans to abdicate and crown one of his sons. As the coronation approaches, Jude gets super tangled in faerie court politics in the messy way only feisty YA protagonists can, which is to say, pick up your sword and outsmart them all, girl. Spill some blood in between the hot kissing.

I really enjoyed the fact that Holly Black makes this a modern story while sticking - for the most part - to the original faerie canon. There's so much lore to revel in, like bargains and truth-telling and magic and changelings and revelry and enchantment and twinkly lights and sweet wine and dangerous fruit. I loved that aspect and hope she leans into it in future books.

Otherwise, well, listen. It's a trope city up in here. But I still loved it. This book reminded me of a sensation I used to feel while reading - something that's largely lost as an adult, or maybe because of the books I read these days. And that sensation is possibility. These are the types of books that are arguably ridiculous, obvious fantasy. But you can't help but feel a little inkling of hope that maybe somewhere, for someone, it's real.

I'll take one Cardan to go, please.

The Cruel Prince on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads