I mean. Was there any doubt this book was going to be fantastic? Reader, nope, there was not.
Susan Lazarus, Victorian street urchin turned lady detectI mean. Was there any doubt this book was going to be fantastic? Reader, nope, there was not.
Susan Lazarus, Victorian street urchin turned lady detective, who takes no prisoners, suffers no fools, and gives no fucks, is as uncompromisingly and furiously magnificent as previous books set her up to be. Templeton Lane a.k.a. James Vane, aristocrat turned jewel thief, who treads lightly, snarks cheerfully, allows himself to be vulnerable, and treats consent and equality as the matter of course they ought to be, is her perfect foil. Their second-chance romance, deliciously intertwined with a bittersweet past and a long laundry list of betrayals and deceit, delivers all the feels. And naturally, there's murders and schemes and shenanigans, just in case you get bored. (You won't get bored.)
Characters from previous books aid and delight and lend plot support and sarcastic commentary (hi Jerry!) where needed, without ever holding up the action to play awkward catch-up, which is frankly a masterful achievement given that this book ties into not just its own, but two previous series populated by a veritable multitude of beloved pairings.
Also, we learn why James is obsessed with opals; let me just say I was not prepared.
PS: A word on the way that KJ Charles does inclusivity, which I find so appealing. I normally don't read m/f romance these days; not because I dislike it, but because I read oodles of it decades ago, when that was pretty much all the romance genre was: One woman, one man, usually both white, blah blah, drama, toxic masculinity and OTT misunderstandings until the second-to-last page, ILU, The End. I understand the genre has come a long way since then, but unless it's an author I really love, I don't bother with m/f anymore because I've had plenty of it and I'm more interested in stories that reflect a more inclusive spectrum. Case in point: Between the Lilywhite Boys, Sins of the Cities, and Society of Gentlemen series, all of which tie into this book, the variety of characters includes POC, gay, bi, pan, trans, non-binary, ace, non-neurotypical, various disabilities, and probably others I'm forgetting, with the added bonus that these are historicals, which for far too long were written in a tradition of pretending those things didn't exist in days of yore. More importantly, these characters are people, not lecture props; I never once got the feeling that the author sat up importantly, put on her teaching hat, and declared "I am going to do A Diversity!" They are just folks, being who they are, because that's what diversity is. I find it really refreshing, in that context, to have this cis m/f pairing included, not as the default and not as an afterthought, merely as one configuration among many. I wish more people wrote like that, but then I wish reality did too.
Merged review:
I mean. Was there any doubt this book was going to be fantastic? Reader, nope, there was not.
Susan Lazarus, Victorian street urchin turned lady detective, who takes no prisoners, suffers no fools, and gives no fucks, is as uncompromisingly and furiously magnificent as previous books set her up to be. Templeton Lane a.k.a. James Vane, aristocrat turned jewel thief, who treads lightly, snarks cheerfully, allows himself to be vulnerable, and treats consent and equality as the matter of course they ought to be, is her perfect foil. Their second-chance romance, deliciously intertwined with a bittersweet past and a long laundry list of betrayals and deceit, delivers all the feels. And naturally, there's murders and schemes and shenanigans, just in case you get bored. (You won't get bored.)
Characters from previous books aid and delight and lend plot support and sarcastic commentary (hi Jerry!) where needed, without ever holding up the action to play awkward catch-up, which is frankly a masterful achievement given that this book ties into not just its own, but two previous series populated by a veritable multitude of beloved pairings.
Also, we learn why James is obsessed with opals; let me just say I was not prepared.
PS: A word on the way that KJ Charles does inclusivity, which I find so appealing. I normally don't read m/f romance these days; not because I dislike it, but because I read oodles of it decades ago, when that was pretty much all the romance genre was: One woman, one man, usually both white, blah blah, drama, toxic masculinity and OTT misunderstandings until the second-to-last page, ILU, The End. I understand the genre has come a long way since then, but unless it's an author I really love, I don't bother with m/f anymore because I've had plenty of it and I'm more interested in stories that reflect a more inclusive spectrum. Case in point: Between the Lilywhite Boys, Sins of the Cities, and Society of Gentlemen series, all of which tie into this book, the variety of characters includes POC, gay, bi, pan, trans, non-binary, ace, non-neurotypical, various disabilities, and probably others I'm forgetting, with the added bonus that these are historicals, which for far too long were written in a tradition of pretending those things didn't exist in days of yore. More importantly, these characters are people, not lecture props; I never once got the feeling that the author sat up importantly, put on her teaching hat, and declared "I am going to do A Diversity!" They are just folks, being who they are, because that's what diversity is. I find it really refreshing, in that context, to have this cis m/f pairing included, not as the default and not as an afterthought, merely as one configuration among many. I wish more people wrote like that, but then I wish reality did too....more
Ich hatte bis vor kurzem überhaupt keine Ahnung von der Existenz der zwei Nachfolgewerke zu “Im Westen nichts Neues” – höchste Zeit, diese BildungslücIch hatte bis vor kurzem überhaupt keine Ahnung von der Existenz der zwei Nachfolgewerke zu “Im Westen nichts Neues” – höchste Zeit, diese Bildungslücke zu stopfen! Ich fand, dass “Der Weg zurück” das Fortsetzungs-Label (und damit das Schicksal, automatisch im Schatten des bekannteren Romans zu stehen) gar nicht verdient hatte, denn es steht durchaus auf eigenen Füßen. Zwar gleicht die Stimme des Erzählers Ernst sehr der von Paul Bäumer, was allerdings nichts Negatives ist, denn in beiden Romanen geht es weniger um die persönliche Entwicklung des Einzelnen und mehr um die Erfahrungen einer Generation. Die Geschichte von Ernst kann also entweder für sich genommen werden oder bietet eine Art ergänzendes Kontraststück zu der von Paul – einer überlebt den Krieg, einer nicht, von der Politik und der Gesellschaft betrogen sind beide, sowie auch all ihre Freunde und Gegner. Die Stimmen der Figuren sind je nach Bedarf anklagend, galgenhumorig, verzweifelt, wütend oder nachdenklich, und hindurch zieht sich ein Faden von Sehnsucht und Poesie und ab und zu ein zarter Hauch von Hoffnung. In jeder Hinsicht eindrucksvoll....more
I enjoyed this more than its predecessor – the pacing is much tighter, the plot romps along nicely, there’s some nifty fairy magic of the “be careful I enjoyed this more than its predecessor – the pacing is much tighter, the plot romps along nicely, there’s some nifty fairy magic of the “be careful what you wish for” variety, and I liked the characters and relationships. Also, that cover is absolutely scrumptious!
My main gripe remains, however, and isn’t much ameliorated by knowing it was coming: the choice of narrator. Puck, or Robin Goodfellow, once again liberally throws around sneery asides, anachronistic language, tedious explanations on his disguises, location changes, and wilful omission of information, myriad observations on his own greatness and callousness, etc. etc. ad nauseam, making it really bloody difficult to actually connect to the characters or the story being told.
Reader, I cannot stand that charmless hack. It’s only the voice of the whole book, so yeah, that’s a problem. As with the first book, the narrative framework creates a massive emotional remove, and I just find this type of aggressive whimsy exhausting. YMMV.
Thank you to Netgalley and Hachette Australia & New Zealand for providing me with an ARC in exchange for an honest review....more
Another very moreish offering from Kate Quinn, this time set in 1950s Washington DC and thus heavily featuring McCarthyism, horrid treatment of women,Another very moreish offering from Kate Quinn, this time set in 1950s Washington DC and thus heavily featuring McCarthyism, horrid treatment of women, and whatever Americans were passing off as actual, edible food at the time (I don’t exactly ~regret~ googling “Candle Salad” because I did absolutely need proof that that shit wasn’t made up, but also that’s a thing I can never unsee now).
The setting is Briarwood House, a boarding house for women, and as the story unspools, we learn more about each of the boarders who slowly grow closer through a weekly dinner club (scene of the above-mentioned culinary crimes) organised by new arrival Grace. The whole thing is tied together by a murder (always a good time) but the real glue are the complex relationships between the seven women and their extended orbit.
The character-centric chapters made for some lovely, poignant character studies – they initially felt more like loosely connected short stories than part of a novel, but the overall arc did end up coming together really nicely. There’s a strong focus on friendship and found family (one of my favourite things), and despite the murder framing device and the dreadful political and social climate of the time, the vibes are warm and cosy. I suspected the big twist early on, but it was still a fun and engaging read.
As usual, Kate Quinn tries to shake things up a bit with narrative structure and timelines, which worked pretty well. There were a few things, like the sentient house and the recipes, that I thought were kind of unnecessary flourishes and a bit too twee (also, the recipes were incomplete in this ARC but I assume that’ll have been fixed for the final version), but on the whole, I enjoyed this a lot.
PS: Oh, and Beth from The Rose Code is mentioned, which was a neat surprise!
Thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for providing me with an ARC in exchange for an honest review....more
I had to sit with this one for a bit. It’s powerful stuff but I think I did the book no favours by 1) attaching skewed expectations to the “black lesbI had to sit with this one for a bit. It’s powerful stuff but I think I did the book no favours by 1) attaching skewed expectations to the “black lesbian vampire story” label, which in hindsight feels reductive; and 2) reading this shortly after finishing season 2 of Interview With the Vampire and its cheerfully amoral Gay Vamps With Issues themes, lol.
This is barely a vampire story (in fact, the term “vampire” is used less than a handful of times throughout the book); it’s a story about systemic/generational trauma, activism and Black community and sure, it’s done through the lens of immortality and being sustained by blood, but it’s really so, so different from the usual vampire narrative frameworks.
I did find the mythology very interesting – these immortals view the taking of blood as an obligation to not only leave the blood provider alive and unaware, but also give them something in exchange: an idea, a nudge towards positive change, a bit of much-needed inspiration. Killing is abhorred unless in extreme self-defence. Throughout her long life against the changing backdrop of the US, starting with her escape from slavery in the 1850s, Guilda struggles to find her place in the world, forever striving towards meaningful relationships and the building of communities. Turning others is strictly consent-based, which was nice, although I had some questions about where the consent’s at in the casual manipulation of mortals, however benevolent. That’s the thing, though, the morals are very much grey-shaded and in flux here, with Gilda and her co-immortals constantly questing and debating (and occasionally clashing on) which uses of their power are acceptable.
It's a fascinating premise for sure. I think for me the execution hampered it quite a bit. I found the dialogue quite stilted, the frequent head-hopping hectic and distracting, and the episodic nature of the separate sections gave it all a fleeting and surface-level feel. There was an emotional remove to the way the story was told, as well; something hard to define, but I never felt deeply invested in the characters. The 2050 section felt quite different and out of place, which made a bit more sense once I found out it had been added for this anniversary edition.
It has the feel of a lingering book, though, flaws and all; I feel like I’ll keep thinking about it for a while....more
A well-crafted, warm-hearted story about two sweet, lonely people who’ve been told off for being who they are (one for not taking up enough space in tA well-crafted, warm-hearted story about two sweet, lonely people who’ve been told off for being who they are (one for not taking up enough space in the world, one for daring to take up any at all) by everyone in their orbit all their lives, and who slowly discover the joy of being appreciated exactly as they are by the right person. Naturally, there’s absolute heaps of external conflict – this is, after all, the first time KJ Charles has sighingly tackled writing a Duke, and she basically nails it, like anything she turns her hand to; so there’s plenty of drama and heartache and painful backstories woven in. (There’s also a certain amount of suspension of disbelief required regarding the likelihood of running into exactly the right (or wrong) people all over the coach routes of England.) But overall, this is an absolute cinnamon roll of a book and a subtle master class in how to write an introvert/extrovert romance. Just lovely.
I couldn’t quite tell if Martin is being set up as a potential MC for a future book but I would absolutely love it, please and thank you....more
2.5, rounded up for the pretty writing. Historical fantasy sort of thing, set in 1491 in the Alhambra, shortly before Ferdinand and Isabella’s take-ov2.5, rounded up for the pretty writing. Historical fantasy sort of thing, set in 1491 in the Alhambra, shortly before Ferdinand and Isabella’s take-over of Granada, the last Muslim stronghold in Spain. The MC is Fatima, the failing sultan’s concubine, whose best friend Hassan is a queer mapmaker who can draw places into and out of existence. To save her BFF from torture and death at the hands of the Spanish Inquisition for his evil gay sorcerous ways, she flees the Alhambra with Hassan, aided by Vikram, a delightfully sarcastic jinn type, and they set out on a quest for the mythological island of Qaf/Antillia, ruled by the equally mythological King of the Birds. Many chase scenes ensue, I Wikipedia’d some interesting stuff about the Emirate of Granada and the history of the mystical island, and I guess the real Bird King was the friends we made along the way…?
It's a weird book. The set-up was intriguing and the narrative starts out promising. For a heroine with plenty of agency and a decidedly self-interested slant to her personality, Fatima ends up breaking down crying and having to be rescued a whole lot, but also she is only seventeen and has grown up incredibly sheltered, so her involuntary damselling didn’t bother me as much as it might have. Luz was a fascinating antagonist as well, although I have severe doubts that the Inquisition would have employed nuns to lead armed forces to hunt down sorcerers and do the torturing with her own saintly hands, but she made a delightful/infuriating villain.
Actually all the characters were really well-drawn - I guess my main issue was that the magic elements, and the convenient ways in which they were used, really diluted the strengths of the human elements, in a way. There were just so many scenes where magic ex-machina-ed the characters’ way out of an unescapable situation, and it really exploded into just mushroom-trip-level weirdness towards the very end. The writing’s quite lovely and the descriptions beautiful, but the whole thing definitely didn’t quite come together for me. ...more
I’d already read two of these stories in separate editions, so I’m glad I got this from the library and didn’t buy it. The art was fantastic as usual I’d already read two of these stories in separate editions, so I’m glad I got this from the library and didn’t buy it. The art was fantastic as usual and some of this particular Locke family’s dynamics were very moving. The WW1 story was the strongest by far, some really gutting stuff in there. I wasn’t hugely impressed with the Sandman crossover – it was fine but had a lot of familiar elements (not just the world, which was a given, but the plot as well). I guess I’m a little biased as by now I tend to be more resistant to Joe Hill playing in other people’s sandboxes (he does it too damn much). The twist with Hell’s key was nifty, though. ...more
Oh dear. I feel like a callous cow because everyone else seems to have adored this, and I was just. So. Bored. It took me ages to finish and I was genOh dear. I feel like a callous cow because everyone else seems to have adored this, and I was just. So. Bored. It took me ages to finish and I was genuinely tempted to DNF around 90% because I just didn’t care. I’m not even conclusively sure why; the writing’s fine, the story’s fine, but I felt nothing for these people. I found Crispin a crashing bore – judgemental, humourless, constantly jumping to conclusions, lacking profile. Billy was ok but honestly deserved better? IDEK. Perhaps it’s just time to finally admit that I don’t seem to gel with pirate stories. Technically, they should be right up my alley and I think I’ve subconsciously tried to make myself love them for a long time but something doesn’t work. (Our Flag Means Death? It’s fine but tbh I don’t really get the hype. Black Sails? Loved the characters and relationship arcs but was largely indifferent to the setting.) Maybe it’s the fact that – unlike with plenty of other historicals – I can never quite suspend disbelief for physical realities aboard ships. Maybe I just don’t like ships, period? Maybe it’s simpler than that and Robin Hobb broke the mould with The Liveship Traders Trilogy, ruining me for any pirate story ever after. Whatever it is, I look forward to forgetting this immediately....more
This was such a gorgeous book, and I am very pleased to be continuing last year’s theme of absolutely devastating World War One reads. I’ve known sincThis was such a gorgeous book, and I am very pleased to be continuing last year’s theme of absolutely devastating World War One reads. I’ve known since her Winternight trilogy that Katherine Arden is an exceptionally skilful writer, but the way everything about this story came together – the characters, the historical setting as a crucial pivot point (or rather, unbridgeable gap) between two eras, the eerie atmosphere, the folklore/fantasy elements – was masterful. She is so good at sketching characters in very quick strokes, then letting their actions and internal landscapes show you who they are (rather than telling you outright), and within pages you’re deeply invested in these people.
I’m not usually a massive fan of magical realism (and I’m not sure if this strictly counts, to be perfectly honest) but I loved how the ideas of mythological evil were interwoven with the actual, day-to-day horrors of the trenches, and what choices people make when faced with those evils. A haunting, breathtaking read. ...more
I stalled hard on this book at about the halfway mark, came back to it after a hiatus of several months, and finished the second half in one sitting, I stalled hard on this book at about the halfway mark, came back to it after a hiatus of several months, and finished the second half in one sitting, so my impressions of it are a bit scattered. I think the main reason I struggled to stick with it is that In Memoriam set a high bar for queer romance in WW1 and even months after I finished it, it was a hard act to follow.
These Old Lies has great bones: a compelling story with memorable characters and strong emotions, it also makes good use of its multiple timelines, following its main characters and the meandering path of their love story through the decades. There are elements that reminded me of other books set in this era (yes, In Memoriam, but KJ Charles’s Will Darling Adventures also came to mind), but it does, in the end, succeed in distinguishing itself as its own thing. It’s tender and gutting, it plays with gender roles and cross-dressing in a way that I really enjoyed, it doesn’t shy away from meaty conflict, and the way the four timelines were cross-stitched back and forth in meaningful ways was unique and impactful.
It also very much reads like an early draft. I blinked when the author thanked their editor in the Acknowledgements, because honestly, this book reads like no editor came within a mile of it. There are so many typos, omissions, and errors on a line-editing level – that kind of thing just makes me stroppy, because it’s distracting and so easy to fix – and the writing, while heartfelt, could’ve really done with some editing polish. It reads like the kind of book that is wonderfully promising and moving even in its early draft but could be incredible once it’s… you know, finished. As it is, I spent most of the reading experience being distracted by daft errors and uneven writing quality. Basically, it’s a mixed bag, but I think it really didn’t have to be, which is a shame....more
I absolutely adored this – strong continuation of the plot from the first book, wonderful, complex characters, humour and magic, a whole bunch of tensI absolutely adored this – strong continuation of the plot from the first book, wonderful, complex characters, humour and magic, a whole bunch of tense drama and some smoking hot girl-on-girl action… basically everything I wanted from this book and more.
The main characters were a delight, especially Maud, who mostly got to play the role of annoying little sister in the first book, and here really gets a chance to shine. I think it’s quite tricky to pull off a character like this, who’s very young, bubbly, stubborn and eager for a chance to prove herself, someone determined to do good, with a tendency to fling themselves into the midst of danger, and not have them come off even marginally annoying; but the author really did so well with her, especially when it came to the wounds and long-term baggage both she and Robin have from their parents’ treatment, and how it’s shaped their characters and outlook. I freaking loved her.
And Violet was an absolute delight. Again, plenty of layers, plenty of edges, but also so much FUN. And they were delightful together. I am annoyingly picky about f/f so the rare times I come across a pairing like this, with genuine chemistry and rapport, are such a breath of fresh air. (No curious exploring of each other’s centres followed by a crashing wave here, lol – these girls fuck and it’s sizzling hot!)
The ensemble cast (small though it is) was so fantastic, as well – some of my favourite scenes were probably just the lot of them sitting in someone’s cabin and plotting, or arguing, or (memorably) acting out smutty books. There was such a vibrant, entertaining spark about it all, and I can’t express how pleased I am with my timing on discovering these books, because I can’t WAIT for Hawthorn and Alan’s book and I’m SO glad it’s coming out in less than a month.
The entire book is set aboard a White Star Line passenger ship, and the author’s clearly done her homework regarding its layout (many Titanic moments were had, presumably intentionally), as well as the pop culture of the era in general, with enough little side mentions (loved the mentions of Maude Adams and how maybe some journalist is thinking about writing a book about a Parisian opera ghost) to make the period feel lived in. The magic system and surrounding shenanigans continue to play out in satisfyingly plotty, well-paced ways and I’m looking forward to seeing all these threads come together.
The writing is very, very good, to the point where once again, the over-abundance of similes annoyed me because it would have been SUCH an easy fix – just chop a bunch of these to the point where they’re no longer distracting! You could go through the whole book searching for bits starting with “like”, delete half literally at random (they’re all good, just too many, so whichever remained would still be lovely) and be done inside of fifteen minutes. Some editor did a fail.
Eleventy-thousand stars, nghhh, I’m incoherent with emotion.
Perfect conclusion, kinda tempted to go right back to the start and reread, tbh. I’ve beenEleventy-thousand stars, nghhh, I’m incoherent with emotion.
Perfect conclusion, kinda tempted to go right back to the start and reread, tbh. I’ve been hankering hard for Alan and Jack’s story since the end of the second book (again, I am VERY glad for my timing with reading these, I would've hated to wait longer), and it was everything that I wanted – complicated, fraught, entertaining, smoking hot, with a believable and exquisite emotional progression. But I’m almost as obsessed with the other relationships among this small group of characters – the little subsets of friendships and sibling-like connections that spring up between various combinations, the glimpses we get of the romantic pairings through the eyes of people who love them, the various forms of love and loyalty and betrayal and generosity. It’s found family at its best, and thus my kryptonite. All the side characters continue to be fully fleshed out and delightful as well.
I also loved the conclusion to the overarching plot, and continue to enjoy the way the author develops the magic system of this world, its history and implications; it’s unique but grounded and largely plausible.
Didn’t notice the same issue with simile overuse in this one that the previous two books had, so perhaps she’s toned those down. The writing just flowed, lyrical when warranted but not over the top; the story was dramatic and fun, the emotional punches landed exactly in the right places, and I didn’t want the damn thing to end. I need my little sextet of inverts to open a detective agency, or a pornographic bookshop, or a library, or a magic academy, or a combination thereof, and for Freya Marske to write twenty-seven more books about them, please and thank you. I’m gonna have the worst book hangover after this. Brava....more
2.5 stars rated up. I loved the beginning of this: a compelling main character, strong writing, good set-up for an epic story. Everything about that f2.5 stars rated up. I loved the beginning of this: a compelling main character, strong writing, good set-up for an epic story. Everything about that first part of the story was gripping and emotionally engaging, and I could not wait for Hannah to find a way to claw her way out of all that injustice and misery. I loved her bitterness and anger and I was rooting hard for her. When Annie came along, I really REALLY wanted to root for that relationship as well – I adore sapphic historicals and there aren’t enough good ones. I didn’t get a strong chemistry vibe from them and Annie’s appeal was basically summed up as “she blonde” and “she wore pants that one time” but it had potential.
Alas, it all kind of fizzled out for me somewhere in that interminable middle part, where the girls bounce back and forth between the same institutions about five times, the plot gets mired in the minutiae of the author’s research, and Hannah and Annie’s relationship goes from One True Love to “eh, I was over her” to half-arsed reconnection attempts and falling apart again. I’d been looking forward to the Australian leg of the story, but when we finally get there, it was like a different book, and possibly a different main character altogether. (view spoiler)[Somewhere we lose at least five years in a timeline that doesn’t make sense, the main character (previously pretty decisively written as queer) falls in love with and marries a dude, and the final few chapters become a charity rescue of her former girlfriend, which, I was kinda hoping from the framing device it would at least head towards polyamory, but nope. (hide spoiler)] It was full of unexpected turns, but… not in a good way?
So… lots of potential, but I was bored with the direction it took. It’s apparently based on real events and unfortunately that shows – “unfortunately” because of that common problem with fictionalising real life: real life doesn’t make narrative sense [insert Crazy Ex-Girlfriend song here]. In real life, people stumble aimlessly through life, things happen randomly and with no sense of pacing, people drop in and out of your life without having a story-driven purpose.
I thought the book’s strongest suit was its focus on female relationships throughout – Hannah’s bond with her mum, with Annie, with friends at the Refuge, with the quaker ladies and various side characters. Annie remained somewhat opaque throughout the narrative, more of an outline of a love interest rather than a real person, which was a shame, as her and Hannah’s connection was clearly meant to be a strong central pillar of the story, but I never really felt it.
Basically, I wanted to like this a whole lot more than I did. The author clearly did a ton of research and poured a lot of love into this; she’s also a good writer. I just kinda wish she’d gone full fiction because this didn’t really work for me as a novel. ...more
Incandescent, stupidly good, all the stars; devastating, I am devastated.
This is where my uneven reading response tendencies trip me up: When I have tIncandescent, stupidly good, all the stars; devastating, I am devastated.
This is where my uneven reading response tendencies trip me up: When I have things to criticise about a book, I can bang on and on and ON in far too much detail, but when it’s something I 100% adored, I’m mostly not capable of anything much more intelligent than delighted and/or agonised otter squeaks.
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Apparently my perfect reading vibe this year lives near the intersection of “fraught, slow-burn, complicated queer romance” and “absolutely devastating, authentic portrayal of all the ways in which war shatters people’s bodies, minds and souls.” I have no complaints. I am here for this vibe.
This is gorgeous; I don’t know who gave Alice Winn permission to totally knock it out of the park with a debut?? (Normally I don’t quite get the big deal about debuts because, you know, generally the first book you ever publish is not going to be your best.) Well-paced with careful, complex, beautiful characterisation, brutally astute about the day-to-day realities and the mental health impact of trench warfare, and threading through all that you’ve got this agonising, tender love story that just shattered me into a thousand pieces. (Yes, all this hyperbole is highly necessary.)
No notes, just more incoherent noises. (Oh, and Maud – I adore Maud. I need Maud to get her own book, please and thank you.)
So yeah, read this? If you’re considering it primarily for the romance and are concerned whether Kill Your Gays enters into this, given the setting, spoilers here: (view spoiler)[When I first heard “queer love story” and “WW1,” my primary concern was “yeah, so, I just need the MCs to live, that’s all that matters.” Welp, this is an exercise in “be careful what you wish for.” They live, and reunite, but the author pulls no punches when it comes to accurate portrayal of shell shock/PTSD and the ways it affects the characters’ personalities and relationship. It ends on a healing/hopeful/lovely note, but it is very bittersweet. (hide spoiler)]
TW: Lots of liquefying trench corpses. Lots of emotional torture. Yay!
Die Sternchenbewertung mag nicht ganz fair sein, weil das Buch ziemlich genau in meine “Nicht-mein-Ding”-Kategorie fällt, und das wiederum, weil ich nDie Sternchenbewertung mag nicht ganz fair sein, weil das Buch ziemlich genau in meine “Nicht-mein-Ding”-Kategorie fällt, und das wiederum, weil ich nicht im Voraus gecheckt habe, wie viel Autobiographisches in den Roman eingeflossen ist. Die Geschichte der Großmutter und die Darstellung des österreichischen Landlebens zu dieser Zeit fand ich treffend und interessant; hingegen konnte ich mit dem (bewusst) chaotischen Schreibstil und den ständigen langatmigen Flash-Forwards in das Leben der Autorin und der verschiedenen Verwandten wenig anfangen und langweilte mich eher dabei. ...more
It's not like I NEED an excuse to reread The Rat-Catcher's Daughter and A Queer Trade, but I'll happily take it anyway! Wonderful to finally have thesIt's not like I NEED an excuse to reread The Rat-Catcher's Daughter and A Queer Trade, but I'll happily take it anyway! Wonderful to finally have these shorter stories in print. However, I'm not super-impressed with the book-binding on this, as a couple of pages fell out as soon as I opened the book. Oy....more
Sweet, magical Christmas story, though I have to say I ended up WAY more interested in some of the side characters hurriedly introduced to fix all theSweet, magical Christmas story, though I have to say I ended up WAY more interested in some of the side characters hurriedly introduced to fix all the MCs' problems - especially the Lesbians Ex Machina (give me THEIR story!) and the Bletchley Park girls - than I did the MCs and their fairy-curse-related issues....more
My Kindle informs me I've read this before but I have zero recollection of it. Sometimes it's incredibly useful having a complete sieve-brain! Anyway,My Kindle informs me I've read this before but I have zero recollection of it. Sometimes it's incredibly useful having a complete sieve-brain! Anyway, picked it up because I'm craving all things medieval at the moment. It's not bad, but you can tell it's an earlier work, and the plot was a little flimsy. (Also these days I get very stroppy when fictional medieval people reek of piss and are caked in dirt up to their eyebrows [except the MCs of course for some reason]- it makes me want to yell "MYTH! PEOPLE WASHED!" at the book, lol). I was also sort of amused/annoyed at how little of a role Elaine played in it, although rescuing her is essentially the whole plot. She didn't even get any lines until about three quarters in.
I'm still making up my mind about the vignette-style epilogue. I'm not usually a fan of protracted epilogues but in this case I think I actually liked it - it's hard to create a credible queer HEA in the 14th century and I felt the glimpses we got of their lives (view spoiler)[and their ends (hide spoiler)] rang true to the period and to the kind of happiness they could have built....more
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