Showing posts with label fairy tales. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fairy tales. Show all posts

Sunday, September 15, 2024

A Sorceress Comes to Call, by T. Kingfisher

T. Kingfisher has written a Regency romance! Well, sort of. As she says in her Afterword, it "isn't technically a Regency, but it's in the same ballpark, right?" Though most Regencies have "fewer reanimated dead horses."

What she's actually done is a complete reimagining of The Goose Girl—which is such an interesting fairy tale! There have been so many versions, from Shannon Hale's The Goose Girl to Intisar Khanani's Thorn, but there seems always to be something new to say about it, and whoo, boy, does Kingfisher find new things to say!

I don't want to say too much about this novel's relationship to the fairy tale, because part of the fun of reading was figuring out which characters were which and how she transformed some core elements to fit into her "Regency" setting. The juxtaposition of rather terrifying sorcery with ladies taking tea was at times hilarious and at times deeply disturbing!

(Kingfisher likes horror, and she seems to be playing a lot more with it these days. I can't read her novels that are actually horror; this one was fine for me, but be warned, it's serious when it says dark. Not YA, or, at least, not for younger or sensitive readers.)

The ladies taking tea: possibly my favourite part of the story was the friendship between Hester, Penelope and Imogene. Three middle-aged women forging three different paths to independence through the ridiculousness of social mores (and, yeah, Kingfisher is no doubt doing something with the three Fates or whatever, but I was just so delighted to have three completely different characters with important plot roles, none of whom played into any of the older woman stereotypes of the genre, that I didn't care if they symbolized anything!) They were so much fun! (There isn't a female version of the word "avuncular" and there should be: these were aunties of the best sort—and they weren't even defined by their relationship to the young protagonist.) 

Hester is a protagonist in her own right, and isn't that another interesting thing: a fairy tale/Regency romance (sort of) with a young woman protagonist and an older woman with equal protagonismos. Hester has a brother who needs rescuing, and she calls in her friends who come at once, no questions asked. And when they realize that Cordelia (the young protagonist) needs rescuing, there is no hesitation from any of them despite the danger. I love these women!

The sorceress of the title is a heartless villain and Cordelia's mother. Great, great opening scene that defines their relationship and the mother's villainy and creates this undercurrent of fear that runs through the whole book. This isn't a villain who can be defied with impunity. (Have I repeated the word villain too many times? Because she's a doozy of one, just saying!) She's also vain, shallow and greedy, and the juxtaposition of her power with her petty desires is, well, terrifying. (IMHO she didn't need any kind of nuanced backstory: she's what you'd get if all of those conspiring side-characters in Regency romances had vast sorcerous power. Shudder!)

Cordelia could be compared easily to the eponymous heroine of Thorn: she is rendered helpless by her circumstances but she finds tiny ways to fight back, especially when she realizes who else is going to suffer from her mother's all-encompassing selfishness. It's lovely to see her recognize selflessness in others and trust in her own empathy as a power that might be greater than sorcery.

Is there romance? There is, in fact, and it's sweet and lovely and not at all the point of the story. The ending is satisfying on many levels, and the romance is sort of the cherry on top!

No one is as wonderfully weird as T. Kingfisher (well, Ursula Vernon probably is, but she manages to rein it in for her younger audiences!) This one is weird, wonderful, terrifying and hilarious, and you will never look at geese (or horses) the same way again!

Tuesday, February 14, 2023

Cybils Winners! The Mirrorwood, by Deva Fagan

Happy Valentine's Day! For those whose greatest love may be books, it is more than appropriate that the winners of the Children's and Young Adult Book Lovers Literary Awards are announced today! Time to update your TBRs!

I'm excited that I finally get to talk about the winner in the Elementary/Midde-grade Speculative Fiction category: The Mirrorwood, by Deva Fagan.

Every one of the judges was impressed by the compelling writing and the imaginative world-building in this one. It starts with a girl who has been cursed with a blight: she has no face of her own, and has to borrow faces from people she touches. What an interesting curse, full of metaphorical possibilities! Appearance, identity, how our relationships with others define us—all the deep stuff!

Our heroine, Fable, escapes from blight hunters through a wall of thorns into an enchanted kingdom caught in time with a sleeping prince in a tower in a castle. 

People, it's a gender-reversed spin on Sleeping Beauty!

This was just such a fun story. Whimsical, likeable characters, a vivid, colourful world with interesting magic, and a lot of examination of fairy tale tropes: fairy godmothers, curses, demons and monsters, quests. Before Fable can end the blight and save the kingdom, she has to figure out who the good guys are, and just what, exactly, the curse is.

Also there's a great talking cat, and the annoyingly loquacious skull of a bad poet! So much to enjoy!

If I were to pick a food analogy for The Mirrorwood, I think I would go with the amazing chocolate chunk salted caramel cookies my sister and brother make, with chunks of Belgian chocolate and homemade caramel in a meal-sized cookie. Sweet and salty deliciousness with hidden depths and a different combination of flavours in every bite.

I will post reviews of the rest of the short-listed books over the next few Mondays, for Marvelous Midde-Grade Monday. Some very cool stories, and I'm excited to share them with you!

Tuesday, July 5, 2022

Kelly Barnhill, new Victoria Goddard, and a few other things I've been reading

It's been three months since my last post: I'm not sure if that's because I've lost interest in blogging, or I haven't read much that made me excited to talk about, or life has just gotten really busy with other interesting things to occupy my mind and time. Or a combination of all three. But I'm not ready to call it quits yet, so here are a few short reviews of a few things!

The Girl Who Drank the Moon was on everyone's blog for a while when it came out, and I finally read it, and it's as awesome as everyone said! Very original: lots of folk-tale elements and the narration has a fairy-tale feeling to it, but there's a modern sensibility behind everything—there are no unexamined tropes here. Very pointed critiques of human behaviour and society. Interesting, complex characters; unusual in that the adult characters are more prominent than the titular girl, and we get lots of different POVs, so I don't know how that will work for younger readers. Felt similar to some of T. Kingfisher's not-exactly-for-young-people novels, like A Wizard's Guide to Defensive Baking and Minor Mage. Whimsical and hopeful while unflinching about the damage people can do to each other. Beautiful writing.

The Troubled Girls of Dragomir Academy, by Anne Ursu, is another middle-grade novel that's been widely raved about that I finally got around to reading. I love Ursu's writing, and this one didn't disappoint. Similar themes to Girl Who Drank the Moon, actually: standing up against evil that persists because of false beliefs deliberately perpetuated by those in power to make sure they stay in power. (Hmm. That doesn't ever happen in the real world; I see no relevance to our current state of affairs. Ahem.) Girl power and friendship. Pretty dark story, actually—misogyny isn't fun to read about—but I promise it has a happy ending!

The Redoubtable Pali Avramapul is the next installment in Victoria Goddard's hugely epic Nine Worlds series of series, and I loved it! My second favourite after Hands of the Emperor, I think. It made me go back and reread The Return of Fitzroy Angursell, and with this book (and Petty Treasons, a novella) I have fallen completely in love with Fitzroy. Also Pali! Full review on Goodreads , but the TL;DR is go read this book! (After you read Hands and Return, though.)

And speaking of Victoria Goddard, I also thoroughly enjoyed Portrait of a Wide Seas Islander, which is an event in Hands of the Emperor told from Buru Tovo's point of view.


Nettle and Bone is T. Kingfisher's latest, and it is her trademark dark, funny, weird, folk-tale-ish story of unlikely heroines defeating evil with cleverness, unexpected magic and sheer stubbornness. This one is definitely adult fairytale—trigger warning for abuse—but not horror. (I can't read her horror!) I'm never disappointed in anything this woman writes.

I also read a couple of new novels in Rachel Neumeier's Tuyo world: Keraunani, which is a fun romantic adventure starring Esau, and Suelen, set right after the events of Tuyo and introducing a new character and a new, fascinating magic: the surgeon-dedicate. (I love the covers for this series!) 

Oh, and I don't seem to have mentioned her newest Death's Lady series on my blog (how is she so prolific?? the woman is a writing machine!). It's reverse-portal fantasy starring a psychiatrist and a woman warrior, and it's every bit as good as Tuyo with a different vibe. (My Goodreads reviews here and here.)The latest in that series, Shines Now, and Heretofore is a fun exploration of one of the minor characters in the main trilogy (I love the way she does this in her series: returning to the world we loved and seeing a new perspective on it.)

You may notice that I haven't been very adventurous in my reading: I've been mostly sticking to authors I love. Maybe I'll start exploring outside my box now: is there anything you think I should read that I might not otherwise try?


Sunday, September 5, 2021

Thorn, by Intisar Khanani

What a remarkable book! I'm sitting here a little stunned, feeling as though I've been punched with a velvet-gloved fist. There is so much in this book and it's handled so well!

Thorn is a retelling of the Goose Girl fairy tale, in which a princess is forced to switch places with her maid while journeying to wed a neighbouring prince. There's a greedy goose boy, a talking horse and a clever king, just like in the original. But what Khanani does with this story blew me away.

Princess Alyrra, or Thorn, as she becomes, is kind and courageous like a typical fairy tale heroine, but so, so much more. I love that for Alyrra, the spell switching her with her lady-in-waiting is an almost welcome way out from a future she didn't choose and greatly fears. She would actually be happy staying a goose girl, except that there are dangers and injustices and people she comes to care about, and she can't just stay silent and let everyone get hurt.

Oooh, silence, and words, and the power therein! There's a spell preventing her from revealing what happened to her, and I love the marvelous conversations in which Thorn decides what truths she can tell—given the constraints of the spell, yes, but also how much she trusts her questioner. And we learn so much about the other characters by how much they figure out from what she says! So interesting and clever!

But it goes deeper: silence is one thing Alyrra has mastered, because she is a victim of both neglect and abuse. The spell becomes a metaphor for the power of telling someone the truth about what happened—and then the narrative turns it around again, and Thorn's choice to tell someone about an abuser—and the strength and support she gets from that choice—makes her realize she needs to reveal the truth about the spell. (I hope this is confusing enough that it isn't too spoilery!) I'm just in awe of how Khanani weaves her material back and forth in such a compelling way. (Don't worry, there are lots of cool things I'm not spoiling!)

This is a story of someone put in a position of powerlessness who realizes that she still has choices. It's a story of finding allies and of being an ally. It's a story of justice and vengeance and the difference between them. It's a story of hurt and forgiveness and trust. It's got one of the most original and astonishing heroine vs evil villain climaxes I've ever read.

The writing is beautiful, lyrical but precise. (I'm reminded of "float like a butterfly, sting like a bee"). This is how and why you use first-person present tense: we are in Thorn's head, in the moment with her, trapped and frustrated by her circumstances, shaking with her fear. Khanani is very careful about how she describes violence and abuse—never graphic or shocking—but she writes with power. So, yeah, trigger warnings. This book reminded me of Robin McKinley's Deerskin, which is one I return to surprisingly often (there are just certain sections I don't reread)(Thorn is not remotely as graphic as Deerskin nor does it dwell in the same way on the aftermath of the abuse.) What I love about both of these novels is the strength, resilience and love that transform the character's pain into something victorious. I had tears in my eyes several times, but they were tears of amazement at characters' courage and kindness and wisdom.  Thorn also reminds me of Spinning Silver; I was blown away by that one, too.

I want to spend more time in the world and in the hands of this writer, so I'm picking up the companion novel The Theft of Sunlight (first of a companion duology, apparently, and with a notorious cliffhanger, so I may not start reading it yet!)

Lemon ginger cardamom cheesecake. Subtle, complex, eye-rollingly delicious. My daughter and I sort of made this up when I was visiting her and I'm trying to recreate it tonight. (We really should have written down the amounts of things, but we didn't really measure them at the time ...)

Saturday, February 23, 2019

Spinning Silver, by Naomi Novik

Spinning Silver astonished me. It astonished me more with every page I turned, and the ending floored me—if I hadn't been sitting down I would have collapsed. It was just so utterly perfect.

The whole book is plotted like an intricate puzzle jewel box, the kind you have to know the trick to open, with little pieces moving in seemingly random ways to make other little pieces able to move, and when it falls open in your hands you don't know how she did it. It is entirely original in its mythology, but drawn so expertly from all the folktales we know and don't know that every new revelation of magic feels inevitable and true.

Novik starts with a kernel from the story of Rumplestilskin, plants it deep into Russian tales like Vasilisa the Brave, and fertilizes it liberally with the history of Jews in Eastern Europe. The tree that grows from these roots has three heroines (shush! I know my metaphor is falling apart!)—three girls representing the narrow possibilities their society would allow them, girls made wise and cold by the necessity of their circumstances.

Miryam is the daughter of a moneylender who is too kind to be any good at it. Wanda is the daughter of a drunkard who beats her and wants to marry her off for whatever dowry he can get. Irina is the daughter of a duke, who doesn't beat her, but wants to marry her off for whatever dowry he can get, despite her disappointing lack of beauty.

I loved that this is a story about their choices. They are not given agency but they take it anyway, and their choice to stand up and exercise it transforms their world. I love the courage they each forge in different ways from their desperation, the various moments when they say "No!" because nothing could be worse than what they are saying no to. And the power they get from that realization.

I love that Miryam's power to transform silver into gold is economic: she's smart and knows how to value things and how to invest. It's a magic as potent as the magic of reading and figuring that she teaches Wanda. Knowledge is power; knowledge transforms. All kinds of transformations going on, in all the characters, in their perceptions, in the readers' perception of them and their perceptions of each other. The power of perception.

The themes in this book! I absolutely loved the way she started with a moneylender and blossomed off into an examination of promises and debt, honour and generosity, justice versus fairness. Value: who gives it? Where does a person get their value from? Power. Ooooh, all kinds of angles of looking at power: male power, female power, political power, magical power, the power of promises. Bonds, covenants, bargains. Fascinating! I've never found bookkeeping to be so emotionally resonant.

It was also a brilliant illumination of faith. Miryam is Jewish—I don't know if Naomi Novik is Jewish, but she certainly depicted that religion as if she understood it in her bones—and the concept of religion, of faith, the purpose of it, is lovingly represented by Judaism.
I had not known that I was strong enough to do any of those things until they were over and I had done them. I had to do the work first, not knowing.
... high magic: magic that came only when you made some larger version of yourself with words and promises, and then stepped inside and somehow grew to fill it.
Somewhere I hope someone is writing a PhD thesis about this book, because there's just so much going on in it! But you don't need to analyze it: you just need to let Novik's writing carry you away into a magical, entirely real land, full of heart-stoppingly lovable characters.

Miryam, Wanda and Irene are each fierce and clever and brave on their own, but it is unutterably wonderful when they reach across what divides them and come together to help each other. In the words of a Goodread reviewer (whose name I can't tell you because it's written in Arabic, sorry!): "I love this book so much—the kind of love that is peculiar to inhabiting the perspective of young women with agency and the relationships they form when relying on each other." (Her whole review is wonderful and says everything I want to say, but it tells you a lot more of the plot than I'm willing to—I don't want you to have too many expectations going in!)

I'm a bit late reading this book, so you all probably know how wonderful it is already, but if you don't: stop everything, swipe off your TBR and read this book!

This has to be something with layers: lots of different layers of flavours and textures that highlight and complement each other, so when you taste it you taste each individual thing but also something greater than the sum of all the parts. I'm making myself hungry and I don't even know what food I'm thinking of! Is there a Russian version of lasagne? Or maybe Black Forest Cake, or some Russian variant thereof. Mmm, going to eat lunch now!

Tuesday, October 31, 2017

Spindle, by E.K. Johnston

Hey, all. I've been taking a bit of a blog hiatus, but I had a good excuse: I was in Nepal for most of October. Very cool place. When I'm finished sorting through the 1700-odd photos I took, I might post a few of them!

I probably won't be posting much in November, either, since I've decided to participate in NaNoWriMo. It always seemed like a rather ridiculous thing to do (as in: there's no way I could ever do that!), but I'm at the stage in my WIP where a clearly defined writing goal will be a good thing. Right? This is going to work for me. I have confidence. Ahem.

I didn't get as much reading done in Nepal as I thought I would (and I was reading more non-fiction than fiction), but I did finish E.K. Johnston's companion novel to A Thousand Nights, and it was every bit as good. My only complaint was that it ended too soon!

Spindle is set generations after the events of A Thousand Nights, and you don't have to have read the first book before you read Spindle (Spindle does spoil A Thousand Nights, though). Spindle is another transformative reinterpretation of a fairy tale, this time (as you might guess) Sleeping Beauty.

I love me a good fairy-tale retelling.

Spindle's narrator and protagonist is Yashaa, the son of one of the spinners who are out of a job (and exiled from the kingdom) after a demon curses the Little Rose. I love, love, love, that Johnston explores the realistic, economic implications of ending an entire industry. "And then they burnt all the spindles in the land." That's going to have consequences, people!

The curse itself is fascinating and complex (and an important part of the plot, so I can't tell you about it without spoilers). Yashaa and his three friends (also impacted by the above economic consequences) go on a quest to end the curse which is destroying not just their lives but the entire kingdom. I love, love, love that this is a buddy story: Yashaa, Arwa, Tariq and Saoud are all flawed, lovable characters in their own right, and their bond of friendship and loyalty is a treat to watch. There's a sweet little romance, but it's not the focus.

The demon is also an interesting character; Johnston almost gets us to sympathize with her. She's got a long-term, carefully planned out scheme to regain the power stolen from her people, and she just has to be patient a little longer before it all pays off, if those stupid meddling kids don't mess everything up! I really enjoyed the scenes from her point of view.

The magic creatures are lovely and magical, and I wanted more of them. I also wanted more of the ending: Johnston could have written another hundred pages and I would have gladly read them. (A warning of sorts: Johnston's endings always take a left turn from where you think they're going. It's as though you think you're reading a certain kind of story that's going to have a certain kind of ending, but really she was writing a different story all along, and the ending you were expecting is more of an afterthought. Those of you who've read it, what did you think of the ending?)

Spindle was delicious and multi-layered and resonant with magic. Backlava, I think, oozing honey and crunchy nuttiness. I sure love E.K. Johnston's writing!

Thursday, April 20, 2017

Summer in Orcus, by T. Kingfisher

This book is simply wonderful.  You know you've found a special book when the way a plot comes together makes you cry, it's just so perfect. And you were already crying because of the character development (because you care so much about her and look what she's finding out about herself), and what's actually happening in the plot is making you cry (not necessarily because it's sad, but because it's so beautiful), and you end up in a blubbering mess even though it's a perfectly respectable happy ending. (Not that I'm saying this one is; wouldn't want to spoil it for you!)

There aren't many books like that, and Ursula Vernon (who is T. Kingfisher when she's writing less easily categorizable books) has written quite a few of them now. The T. Kingfisher stories are often fairy tale retellings, or stories that sound like they could be folk tales. Summer in Orcus is a portal fantasy, but it starts out with Baba Yaga's hut appearing in Summer's back alleyway, so the folk-tale roots are deep and resonant. (And, much like Every Heart a Doorway, but in a different way, Vernon is re-writing the paradigm of the portal fantasy.)

Summer in Orcus might start out seeming like a middle-grade book, but it gets darker and deeper as it goes on, and it's just not quite written like a middle-grade book. (Vernon explains why in her very interesting afterword. She was going for a more realistic depiction of what would happen if a 12-year-old was sent into a fantasy world on a quest.) A very sophisticated younger reader could handle it. A reader who understands who Baba Yaga is, and why Summer should be quite afraid of her but can probably trust her. At least, in certain particular instances. (Antelope women, however, are not to be trusted.)

So original, so vividly imagined. I don't want to spoil any of the surprises; some of her ideas made me laugh out loud, they were so weird and funny and yet, perfect. I keep wanting to use that word, because even though this story seems a hodge-podge of crazy fantasy ideas, everything works together into a cohesive, perfect whole. It reminds me of A Face Like Glass, by Frances Hardinge, which is also full of crazy imaginative ideas, but none of them are throwaway; they all end up being important, somehow. Writers who have that kind of vision are really impressive. Also, writers with the knack for humour as truth-telling are infinitely rare and valuable. (She's up there with Terry Pratchett.)

And Summer is a wonderful heroine; incredibly realistic and sympathetic. She's not a hero, but she chooses her path and keeps going even when she really, really wants to go home. She has the weaknesses and strengths of a 12-year-old who might be a little wiser than her years, but doesn't quite know it yet. “It would be a good day for the world if I could not find a child who knew terrible adult things. But I will be a great deal older before that day comes, I think.”

I stayed up late to finish this, and then couldn't sleep, it moved me so strongly. Ursula Vernon is a well-known and acclaimed author, but more people need to discover what she's doing when she's T. Kingfisher.

Creamy chorizo pasta (saute onions and peppers and sliced cured chorizo, add spinach or kale, chopped tomatoes or a bit of tomato paste, pour in cream, serve over a substantial pasta shape like rotini). Delicious comfort food with bite.

Monday, November 28, 2016

MMGM: What I'm getting my nieces for Christmas

I'm late for Marvelous Middle-Grade Monday, and I don't have a whole review for you, but I thought I could share what I'm getting my two bright, spunky nieces (ages 7 and 5) for Christmas, in case you have a bright, spunky girl on your list and she doesn't already own these must-have books.

I haven't even read the sequels to Harriet the Invincible, Hamster Princess, (I've got Of Mice and Magic on hold at the library), but I know they're going to be awesome, so I'm getting all three currently published volumes for the girls. The first one turns Sleeping Beauty on its head (my review is here (along with some other books that would also make great gifts)), the second one updates the Twelve Dancing Princesses, and the third is clearly a redo of Rapunzle (can't wait to see what she does with it!).














I got the girls the first Princess in Black book last Christmas, and it was a big hit, so I have to catch them up on that series. They've already got books 2 and 3, so I'll just get them The Princess in Black Takes a Vacation. Haven't read it yet, but, again, I have every confidence that Shannon Hale will give us another really fun story about the princess with a secret identity.

I finally got around to reading the first of the Hilda graphic novels, by Luke Pearson, and the entire series immediately made it onto my must-buy-for-the-nieces-plus-another-copy-of-the-whole-set-for me list. I didn't think anyone could outdo Harriet in the smart, spunky adventuress department, but quiet, idiosyncratic Hilda is now my favourite character ever. And the sly, clever humour of the story is my favourite kind of humour. (It also helps that it reminds me ever so slightly of the Moominland books, which I love. Something about the cozy but also existential whimsy of it, and the art style.)

Here's my niece; you can see why she needs books about brave adventuring girls!

Wednesday, July 6, 2016

Fave Books so far in 2016

June was a reading slump for me: lots of DNFs, or finished but wasn't raving excitedly so what's the point of a blog post (FBWRESWTPOABP)(another acronym that's sure to catch on!). So maybe listing the books that stood out for me in the first half of this year will remind me of why I started blogging in the first place. (I just noticed that this is the third year in a row I haven't posted anything in June. Hmm. Must break this curse somehow!)

Unlike you more organized folks, I don't have a convenient list of the books I've read, but I can cobble something together from my library's Borrowing History (great idea, btw, if your library's website doesn't already do it),  Goodreads and my kindle.

And now that I've done that, I am greatly encouraged. Look at all these awesome books! In no particular order:

The Raven King, by Maggie Stiefvater. Loved this series; loved that I got to reread the first three before reading this one; loved this conclusion. I will write a full review of this, I promise!

T. Kingfisher, AKA Ursula Vernon. I rave about Castle Hangnail and her short adult fiction here; I've since read Bryony and Roses which is a wonderful Beauty and the Beast adaptation (my favourite one yet, I think, though I haven't reread MacKinley's Beauty in a while), and The Seventh Bride, which is a creepy sort of Bluebeard story.

The Future Falls, by Tanya Huff. Third book of an adult urban fantasy trilogy—funny, weird, crazy magic, really enjoyable. Yes, there are dragons. And pie.

Escape from Mr. Lemoncello's Library, by Chris Grabenstein. This deserves an MMGM post. Fun adventure in a library we all wish were real, in the spirit of The Mysterious Benedict Society and The Westing Game.

Sorcerer to the Crown, by Zen Cho. Lots of you have raved about this one and I agree—Regency romance with magic. What's not to love? Although I almost put it down after the first couple of chapters; then Prunella showed up and I had no chance after that!

Kat Incorrigible, by Stephanie Burgis. Like a middle-grade version of Sorcerer to the Crown, actually. Great fun; definitely try it if you like Patricia C. Wrede's work.

Ambassador and Nomad, by William Alexander. My review here. Great middle-grade sci-fi duology.

The Adventures of Superhero Girl, by Faith Erin Hicks. Very funny comic strip collected into a book.














An Inheritance of Ashes, by Leah Bobet. My review here. Stunning, original aftermath fantasy.

Mars Evacuees, by Sophie McDougall. Another Cybils nominee and I promised I would review it and I will, because it's great middle-grade sci-fi and we need more girls on Mars. There's a sequel coming out that I have to get my hands on: Space Hostages. (But Mars Evacuees can stand on its own; no cliffhanger ending.)

A Thousand Nights, by E. K. Johnston. My review here. Sheherezade retelling but far, far more. And now there's a companion novel coming out in Dec! Called Spindle—I'm guessing it's Sleeping Beauty? Very excited! (Love the covers on these.)

Karen Memery, by Elizabeth Bear. My review here. Steampunk western set in a Seattle brothel. Great fun all the way through.


Rebel of the Sands, by Alwyn Hamilton. My review here. Promising start to a western/middle-eastern epic fantasy.

The Steerswoman series, by Rosmary Kirstein.  My review here. I gobbled up these genre-bending fantasies with awesome characters in a fascinating world.

Oh, and I have to mention a fantastic non-fiction book I just finished. (I need to read more non-fiction, and I certainly would if they were all as good as this one!) It has the best title ever: The Bad-ass Librarians of Timbuktu. You know you have to read it now, don't you!

Monday, April 11, 2016

MMGM: Castle Hangnail, and other awesome stuff by Ursula Vernon (who is also T. Kingfisher)

I said I would review the rest of the Cybil's Middle-Grade Spec Fic shortlist, and then I got distracted by other books (there are always other books, aren't there!). But I just read a novella by T. Kingfisher, who, it turns out, is actually Ursula Vernon, when she's writing for adults. Which I didn't know she did. Which is very exciting, because she's an awesome writer! So I decided I needed to do a fangirly squee post about Ursula Vernon. Which will include a review of Castle Hangnail!

Ursula Vernon has definitely inherited the mantle of Eva Ibbotson. Castle Hangnail will thrill anyone who loved Which Witch: it's pretty much a remake of that story (in fact, there are several elements of homage, if you're looking for them, including the bat in Molly's hair): there's a gloomy castle full of quirky minions in need of a wicked master, and a young witch who has the right boots but might not otherwise be as qualified for the position as she claims. I think Ibbotson would be pleased at the way Molly sabotages the evil developer (just the sort of small-minded antagonist Ibbotson loved to defeat) and would cheer the way she gets the bullying sorceress Eudaimonia to defeat herself.

I think Vernon's heroine is a little more complicated and interesting than Ibbotson's straightforward good guys, and her secondary characters are marvelously well-rounded, each with their own little character arc. There's also a significantly darker streak to the magic and the plot—dare I say there's some Diana Wynne Jones going on here, too?

The humour is lovely and multi-layered, as you would expect from the author of Harriet the Invincible (and I've got to read the Dragonbreath books: they look equally brilliant). I'm at the point where I'll buy anything Ursula Vernon publishes: she can draw, she can write wonderful middle-grade novels, she can write humour …

And she does brilliant adult fairy-tale reworkings! Under the name T. Kingfisher (a name she calls "vaguely absurd"!), she has published a number of short stories and several novels. I highly recommend the short stories, which you can find here. Some of them are quite disturbing, some of them are just lovely, and all of them are fascinating and thoughtful, and will change the way you read everything else. ("Elegant and Fine" is the story of Susan from the Narnia chronicles, and it's . . . eye-opening. I liked it a lot.) I particularly loved "The Tomato Thief" (and "Jackalope Wives," which you have to read first).

The novella that I read is Nine Goblins. It started out very fun and spoofy, and then turned into something quite deep. Reviewers have compared it to Terry Pratchett's Discworld stories, and they're not wrong. (Gosh, how many amazing authors can we compare Vernon to?!) I am looking forward to getting my hands on Bryony and Roses—her Beauty and the Beast retelling—, and The Raven and the Reindeer, which is The Snow Queen.

Every Monday you can find more Middle-grade recommendations on Shannon Messenger's blog; there's always something new to discover!

Thursday, January 21, 2016

A Thousand Nights, by E. K. Johnson

E. K. Johnston is a unique voice in YA fantasy. When I heard she was doing a retelling of the story of Scheherazade I knew she was just the writer to attempt it. It's a story that pretty much demands compelling prose—prose that could save someone's life.

A Thousand Nights is a beautiful book. The writing glows. The voice resonates like a legend; it reminds me of Robin McKinley's early writing, that sort of fairy-tale cadence that lifts every-day actions into greater significance:
Lo-Melkhiin killed three hundred girls before he came to my village looking for a wife.
She that he chose of us would be a hero. She would give the others life. ... She that he chose would give hope of a future, of love, to those of us who stayed behind.
She would be a smallgod for her own people, certainly, in the time after her leaving. She would go out from us, but we would hold on to a piece of her spirit, and nurture it with the power of our memories.

In the hands of a lesser writer, this kind of narration gets old rather quickly. But right after that opening passage, just when I might have rolled my eyes and put the book down, we learn that
parents would bring sweet-water flowers, even in the height of the desert wilt, and pickled gage-root to leave as offerings. She that he chose of us would never be forgotten.
She would still be dead.
Johnson gives us the little details that bring a world to life (what on earth is pickled gage-root? but I can imagine what it tastes like), plus a glimpse into the narrator's attitude that convinced me her story would be worth following. She's a determined young woman who knows her own worth, and her story is vibrant with detail about the world she loves.

She's never named. No character other than Lo-Melkhiin is given a name. People are referred to as "Lady Mother," "Daughter of my heart," "Sister of mine," and I thought this was beautiful and in keeping with the tone of the narration. It's also thematically significant, as the protagonist's relationships with her family and community are what give her strength.

I loved the notion of becoming a smallgod. I have lots of things I could say about the way A Thousand Nights explores the nature of power, but what I loved was the way our heroine gained her magic from little, every-day tasks, unnoticed, discounted by the villain. Women's work. The love and care that hold a community together. This is what saves her. And everything described in such evocative prose that even though I've never spun or woven I could feel the thread beneath my fingers, and completely believe that magic could arise from it.

This is not a book to read for plot. There's hardly any action, and the conflict plays out straightforwardly, no twists or sudden revelations. This is a book to savour for its descriptions, for the  sensory world it builds. I delighted in the sisterhood and the friendships, and I was compelled by the heroine's quiet defiance, her determination to live, and her pleasure in the power that Lo-Melkhiin doesn't understand.

Very dark, smooth chocolate, possibly with an unusual spice like cardamon, or maybe ginger. Eaten one square at a time, with the flavour lingering on your tongue for the rest of the evening.

Sunday, January 10, 2016

Wrap-up of Recent Books Read: WURBR*

I'm busy reading the seven books on the Middle Grade Spec-Fic Cybil's shortlist, and I'm not allowed to talk about them until we decide on a winner. So in the meantime, some quick reviews of my holiday reading: light, fun, adventurous YA fantasy.

Winter, by Marissa Meyer. The conclusion to the sci-fi fairy-tale Cinder series has all the rousing escapes and battles and turning tables and stirring speeches and noble sacrifices and facing-off with villains you could possibly want from it. Plus spaceships and androids and mind-control and experiments with wolf-people and weird Moon fashions. And romance. Everything, really. Cinder is Cinderella, of course, (and I still get a kick out of the fact that she left her cyborg foot behind at the ball) Scarlet is Red Riding Hood, with her soldier Wolf, Cress is Rapunzel, rescued from her spy satellite, and now we get to meet Winter, a wonderful, broken but fiercely good Snow White, slowly going mad because she refuses to use her mind manipulation powers. All four kick-ass heroines converge on the Moon to defeat Queen Levana and save Earth from the Lunar armies. It's a little unwieldy to have so many protagonists, but they all get their fist-pumping moments, and the pace is nice and breathless all the way through. Meyer even made me believe in all four romances. (And I liked that everyone's happily-ever-after was more complicated than they had imagined.) I think my favourite character of them all is Iko, the artificial intelligence who gets several different forms through the series. She's just a hoot!

Fairest is a novella that "bridges" between Cress and Winter. It's a character study of Levana, giving interesting insight into her motivations and her relationship with Winter and with Cinder. It's the strength of Meyer's characters that make this whole series work for me. The plot and setting are a little silly (in a very enjoyable way), but the story is grounded by people with real needs and flaws who grow into trusting each other—or not.

Madly, by Amy Alward is a light-hearted adventure/romance in which an alchemist has to save a princess from a love potion. The fun twist is that it's a modern society with cell-phones and airplanes. (Think Harry Potter world except the Muggles know all about magic.) The Talented are the elite, the celebrities, particularly the royal family, of course. But magic screws up potion ingredients, so an alchemist has to be un-Talented. Samantha comes from a famous line of alchemists fallen on hard times, and saving the princess could save their family's fortunes. She has to get ingredients from all over the world (like yeti hair), so there are lots of adventures as she races against the other alchemist families—particularly her family's worst enemy the Asters. Too bad Zain Aster is so good-looking . . . I wasn't actually sold on the romance (it seemed to rely entirely on Zain's good looks, on Sam's side, and Zain was far too nice to be an arch-rival), but I really liked the world, and the focus on alchemy was fun. A fast read; if she writes more in this world I'd read it.

(Amy Alward is the Amy McCulloch who wrote The Oathbreaker's Shadow. And she's Canadian!**)


Jeweled Fire, by Sharon Shinn, is the third book set in the world of Elemental Blessings. Shinn's books are ultimate comfort reads for me. I love her storytelling, and I love this world—everyone is divided into earth, air, water, fire and wood personalities, with their associated magic, and there's an interesting interplay between fate and free will everytime people draw random blessings for themselves.  I really enjoy the way each book so far has explored the world from a different perspective: a water character, an air character, and now a fire character. Corene came across as a bit of a brat in the first two novels, and I liked the way Shinn got her out of Welce so she could recreate herself, figure out how to use her assertiveness and temper to work with people instead of against them. We also get a new kingdom to explore, with lots of intrigue and conspiracy. The romance was predictable, but sweet; the female characters were all strong and interesting, and developed believable friendships with each other. There was less interesting magic in this book; it turned out to be more of a murder mystery. This was an excellent plane read: light and enjoyable.

*So what do you think: WURBR. Is it one of those amazing acronyms that's going to catch on like wildfire? 'Cause that's what I was going for!

**This is my 10th of 13 in this year's challenge. For more awesome Canadian writers (because the world needs more Canada, am I right?), head to John Mutford's patriotic blog.

Wednesday, August 19, 2015

Uprooted, by Naomi Novik

I kept my expectations low when starting this one, because so many people were raving about it and I didn't want to be disappointed. No danger of that: Uprooted deserves every bit of praise and more. It takes all the best elements of your favourite fairy tales and fantasy and weaves them into an original, deeply layered, coming-into-one's-magic-and-saving-the-world story.

It's a story that feels familiar and comforting; you've read it before; you think you know where it's going. Then it makes a left turn into yet another story that you're sure you recognize from somewhere. Every time you think you've gotten your bearings, off it goes in a new direction. It's Howl's Moving Castle. No, it's Crown Duel. No, it's The Blue Sword. No, it's The Riddlemaster of Hed.

And isn't that exactly what we all want from a story? That it's the same as all the ones we loved, but still completely new and surprising? I can confidently say that if you like Diana Wynne Jones, Sherwood Smith, Robyn McKinley, Patricia McKillip, Ursula Le Guin, Juliet Marillier . . . you will like Uprooted.

Things I loved: 

The magic. At first I was disappointed, because other people had commented on how wonderful the magic was, and it isn't, at first. But that's all part of the plan, and you have no idea what I mean because I refuse to be the least bit spoilery. Just, be patient for a few chapters, that's all.

The Polish influences: names, landscapes, food and fairy tale references were a fresh twist on the Medieval European fantasy landscape. Familiar, but not.

The characters: all of them. All complex and understandable, people you recognize ("the people that you meet when you're walking down your street"), people you can care about. Even the villains. Even the really, really evil villains.

The romance. See above, re: characters. It was a real, believable relationship; it didn't dominate the book but it spiced it up; there were some really great scenes. And if you're like me, and the slightly spoilery things people were saying about this being a Beauty and the Beast story make you worry about whether it's a healthy romance, it's okay: Nieshka totally owns it.

Nieshka: because she's thrown out of her element so many times, and she's terrified, and she has no idea how she's going to cope, but then she womans up and does what she knows she has to do. Her character growth is painful and frustrating, and she rocks it. Lots of "you go girl" moments.

The Wood: seriously creepy and evil. Wow. *Shudder*

The writing: I had to take my copy back to the library so I can't quote for you, but the language is beautiful, worth savoring. Plus, lots of humour. Great dialog.

I'm probably the last person on the block who hadn't read this, but if you happen to have not read it yet, you're in for a treat!

I'm not very familiar with Polish food, so I'm going to go with goulash: spicy, rich, meaty, with big doughy dumplings. 


Friday, October 4, 2013

Princess of the Midnight Ball, by Jessica Day George

I'm always up for another fairy tale retelling, and the story of the Twelve Dancing Princesses has always been one of my favourites. Maybe it's the little details, like the worn out slippers, or the snap of a branch that almost gives away the invisible soldier. Maybe it's the old soldier himself, such a departure from typical fairy-tale heroes, and the youngest princess who is perceptive enough to recognize his value.

In Princess of the Midnight Ball, Jessica Day George takes everything I like about this fairy tale and makes it better! Galen, the soldier, is completely swoon-worthy. He's not so old, but he started young so he has lots of soldierly experience and the world-weariness that comes of it. He's capable, but humble, but stands up for himself. He's funny. And he knits! (George points out in an afterword that knitting used to be an exclusively male activity: who knew?!)

The princesses in this version of the story have a realistic age range from seventeen to seven years old, so we get some nice family dynamics, and it's Rose, the oldest, who has the burden of dealing with all her sisters and the curse they are under. So it's Rose that Galen feels impelled to cheer up, and it's Rose he's willing to risk his life for to solve the mystery that's tearing the kingdom apart.

Great characters, intriguing explanation for the dancing, some nice plot twists thrown in to up the stakes--a thoroughly satisfying read. I'm going to look for the next two Princess books from George.

Like chewy homemade condensed-milk caramels: sweet but with substance.

Friday, April 26, 2013

I promised you sequels: Cinder and Scarlet

What on earth happened to April? Yikes! Almost an entire month ago I said I'd get to the sequels I read over Spring Break soon. I guess three weeks counts as soon in Dead Houseplant Land. I'd better quickly get caught up!

I didn't read everything I said I was going to, and I read some things I wasn't planning to, but I did re-read Cinder and then read Scarlet, by Marissa Meyer.

Here's my Goodread's review of Cinder, just to bring you up to speed if you haven't read it yet:

A steampunk Cinderella? With a believably-realized world of human cyborgs and plagues and moon people? Too fun! I was willing to buy the book for the joke of Cinderella losing her foot rather than her shoe, but I was completely won over by the characters, the romance, the suspense, the fascinating world. Eagerly awaiting the second book.

I enjoyed Cinder just as much on rereading. It's not one of the books I'll go back to again and again, but it's certainly entertaining. And I found Scarlet a very satisfying second book. We still get to see quite a bit of Cinder (not too much of Prince Kai, unfortunately), and I loved the new characters: feisty Scarlet, mysterious Wolf, and disreputable Thorne. There's plenty of action, and we learn a bit more about those strange Lunar people and their scary queen. Apparently the next book will have Rapunzel in it. Light, fun, intriguing--and with awesome covers: I'll probably buy Cress in hardcover too.

Milk chocolate-covered nuts, or pretzels, or little fruit nuggets, whatever you like covered in chocolate: tasty and a little bit addictive.

Keeping it short: I'll save my Canadian sequel for the next post (which won't take me another month, I promise!)

Monday, March 26, 2012

Marvelous Middle-Grade Monday: Breadcrumbs, by Anne Ursu

Here's one more Marvelous Middle-Grade Monday entry. I actually had this ready for last Monday, but I was flat on my back with the flu, so I didn't get it posted. Clearly, having this external deadline for posting is good for my post regularity. (Rather like high-fibre cereal.)(Never mind, not going there.) This will be my last consecutive (relatively) MMGM--I will do more in future, but I'll mix it up a bit in the meantime. Though obviously I like middle-grade fiction! (Really, it's just a boring, categorizing name for Children's Literature, right?)


I was excited to read Breadcrumbs because I liked Anne Ursu's Chronus Chronicles so much. Well, The Chronus Chronicles were good*. But Breadcrumbs is really, really good! It's poetry and folklore and true, true story, and it feels just like an ice shard being drawn out of your heart.

It"s a retelling of the Snow Queen, which I've always found a beautifully uncomfortable tale, and Breadcrumbs nails it. It's one of those stories about stories, but it's nowhere near as simple as that. It reminds me of The Life of Pi, in the way that fantasy could actually just be all in your head but is no less real because of it. Breadcrumbs is a fairy tale, several, in fact, but it is also a problem novel about friendship and family and fitting in. Hazel's relationship with Jack is exquisitely drawn. Her loneliness at school is a character in itself. And the overlap between the real world and the magical wood is painfully realistic. The story of the matchgirl brought me to tears.

I'm going to have to reread my Hans Christian Anderson. His stories have always bothered me: even the ones with happy endings are still so sad. Anne Ursu gets Hans Christian Anderson. Someone (not me!) is going to write a thesis on what she does with his characters and themes. I'll just say that Ursu gets why someone would go with the White Witch into the wood, and she gets the price to set him free.

Beautiful writing, beautiful story. And if there were Academy Awards for authors, Ursu would get the one for best use of allusions to favourite kids' books!

Breadcrumbs is the taste of fresh snow when you've been cross-country skiing through the woods and you're hot and thirsty and the snow is so white and fluffy and it tastes cleaner than anything and it's so cold it hurts your heart when you swallow.

Be sure to check out the origin of MMGM: Shannon Messenger's blog, where she links to all the other MMGMers with their excellent recommendations.

*And I just discovered a weird sort of symmetry: Kate Coombs liked the Chronus Chronicles so much that she commented on my review of them, which led me to discover her blog, which led to me reading her book The Runaway Princess, which I just reviewed last week. (The blogosphere is a strange, spiraling galaxy of a virtual place!)